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| Tue, 10-02-2007 - 7:53am |
I thought I'd update.
It's been two weeks since the man I was in love with left our relationship unexpectedly.
After a brief, respectful e-mail exchange negotiating avoiding one another for the next couple months at some mutual haunts, we've maintained NC throughout. I've increased my commitment to counseling sessions and allowing myself to grieve our planned future, our happy memories, those things about him I miss, and his wonderful family. I've let myself talk/feel whenever I need to with people who were safe, loving, and affirming.
Yesterday I had my first day since the break-up of utter serenity.
I have never dealt with a break-up so well in my life, and this board and the guidance I found here were a big part of that. Also...just knowing I was not alone. Some people get very angry at their former partner and think horrible, horrible things about them...sometimes even unspeakable things. I was thinking those things about myself. Coming here, I could see that I wasn't alone or unusual, and in that way, I could see that someday I would feel something else (contentment, happiness) again.
I am close to acceptance. Things I am working on: my self-esteem and my fear of running into him and dealing with those feelings (anticipatory anxiety).
Yesterday, I spent a lot of time aware of the present, thinking not about fear of the future or sadness about the past, but very deeply about where I am right now...the feel of the warm and cool autumn air, the security of a good friend at my side, my illness-thin body, strong and reliable throughout.
There is a quote my yoga teacher read to us during our final relaxation many months ago. It is a favorite of mine (I like to substitute the word "practice" for "life"), and rings true for me. These are my favorite lines (full text at end of post):
"We come to see the present as a refuge from the pain of our imaginations. We come to see that the present is a place where love lives"
I read this, and I think of my pain and where it comes from: memories (imagination), fantasies about the future (imagination), thoughts of him touching or being with me now (imagination). When I think of running into him and what I might do/feel/think, I feel pain. Again, there is my imagination. Holding onto these brings more than pain...it blooms into true suffering. But feeling them, acknowledging their depth and effect on me, and releasing as I am able is healing. What I find left is the present. NOW is where true love is. I think of love, and I think of him. Habit. But in the present (the reality of the moment), the relationship is over. Thinking of him as my source of love, again, is imagination. True, fulfilling love is the friend by my side, the sun on my face, the care I give myself. The present is the place where love lives. And healing. And moving on. When I am present, I don't suffer.
I'm stepping up my meditation practice, focusing on remaining calm and present. I am doing so well with this break-up, but I know there is still more for me to go through before I am healed, and I am clear, now, on the way.
This is a post I came back to again and again here: The Zen of Doing Nothing
I'm grateful to those who give support here, and those who share the pain, process, and progress.
Wish me continued strength.
Claudia
Shavasana
"Throughout our practice, our mind wanders, we
become distracted, we feel fatigued, and then we
remember and we begin again. We come into the
now. We feel and hear our breathing, we feel the
air on our skin, our attention opens to encompass
the experience of our entire body, we see what we
are looking at, we are conscious of our heartbeat
slowing, we are practicing asana. Then our mind
wanders, we fatigue, we remember, and we begin
again.
"Over time we come to associate a distracted mind
with fatigue, anger, desire, resentment, and
sorrow. We come to see the present as a refuge
from the pain of our imaginations. We come to see
that the present is a place where love lives. We
develop the habit of a restful, focused mind. At
the end of our practice we take this restful mind
to a deeper level. In shavasana we practice
profound stillness. Using the same patient
willingness to begin again, we deepen our ability
to rest. We do not differentiate between rest and
work, we are still in action, alert in rest."
It's been two weeks since the man I was in love with left our relationship unexpectedly.
After a brief, respectful e-mail exchange negotiating avoiding one another for the next couple months at some mutual haunts, we've maintained NC throughout. I've increased my commitment to counseling sessions and allowing myself to grieve our planned future, our happy memories, those things about him I miss, and his wonderful family. I've let myself talk/feel whenever I need to with people who were safe, loving, and affirming.
Yesterday I had my first day since the break-up of utter serenity.
I have never dealt with a break-up so well in my life, and this board and the guidance I found here were a big part of that. Also...just knowing I was not alone. Some people get very angry at their former partner and think horrible, horrible things about them...sometimes even unspeakable things. I was thinking those things about myself. Coming here, I could see that I wasn't alone or unusual, and in that way, I could see that someday I would feel something else (contentment, happiness) again.
I am close to acceptance. Things I am working on: my self-esteem and my fear of running into him and dealing with those feelings (anticipatory anxiety).
Yesterday, I spent a lot of time aware of the present, thinking not about fear of the future or sadness about the past, but very deeply about where I am right now...the feel of the warm and cool autumn air, the security of a good friend at my side, my illness-thin body, strong and reliable throughout.
There is a quote my yoga teacher read to us during our final relaxation many months ago. It is a favorite of mine (I like to substitute the word "practice" for "life"), and rings true for me. These are my favorite lines (full text at end of post):
"We come to see the present as a refuge from the pain of our imaginations. We come to see that the present is a place where love lives"
I read this, and I think of my pain and where it comes from: memories (imagination), fantasies about the future (imagination), thoughts of him touching or being with me now (imagination). When I think of running into him and what I might do/feel/think, I feel pain. Again, there is my imagination. Holding onto these brings more than pain...it blooms into true suffering. But feeling them, acknowledging their depth and effect on me, and releasing as I am able is healing. What I find left is the present. NOW is where true love is. I think of love, and I think of him. Habit. But in the present (the reality of the moment), the relationship is over. Thinking of him as my source of love, again, is imagination. True, fulfilling love is the friend by my side, the sun on my face, the care I give myself. The present is the place where love lives. And healing. And moving on. When I am present, I don't suffer.
I'm stepping up my meditation practice, focusing on remaining calm and present. I am doing so well with this break-up, but I know there is still more for me to go through before I am healed, and I am clear, now, on the way.
This is a post I came back to again and again here: The Zen of Doing Nothing
I'm grateful to those who give support here, and those who share the pain, process, and progress.
Wish me continued strength.
Claudia
Shavasana
"Throughout our practice, our mind wanders, we
become distracted, we feel fatigued, and then we
remember and we begin again. We come into the
now. We feel and hear our breathing, we feel the
air on our skin, our attention opens to encompass
the experience of our entire body, we see what we
are looking at, we are conscious of our heartbeat
slowing, we are practicing asana. Then our mind
wanders, we fatigue, we remember, and we begin
again.
"Over time we come to associate a distracted mind
with fatigue, anger, desire, resentment, and
sorrow. We come to see the present as a refuge
from the pain of our imaginations. We come to see
that the present is a place where love lives. We
develop the habit of a restful, focused mind. At
the end of our practice we take this restful mind
to a deeper level. In shavasana we practice
profound stillness. Using the same patient
willingness to begin again, we deepen our ability
to rest. We do not differentiate between rest and
work, we are still in action, alert in rest."

wow Claudia, I found you words so inspiring this morning. Thank you. I feel very similar in many way. It has been 3 weeks and I have made it my focus to move on, in a healthy and self aware way, using mindfulness.
Your words and way of relating
Hi, femcat.
Thank you for the book recommendation. It does, indeed, seem like something worth me looking at. In this period of loss, I have been naturally drawn to quotes and ideas, and the guides and methods and thoughts that have been most effective are repeatedly from Buddhist sources.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. It is affirming to hear mindfulness working strongly for someone else. I am in awe of the change in myself from past break-ups...everything I've tried...yelling, crying, begging, jumping into another relationship, denying myself relationships, trying to change me, trying to change him, blaming him, blaming me...all of it dragging me deeper and deeper into misery. But this time...I practice mindfulness, radical acceptance, universal compassion. It is like rubbing balms on my heart.
Regarding meditation, there is no mastery. Just like...you do not master life. There is only doing life, doing meditation. Growing in life, growing in meditation.
I am also undisciplined, but I did it when I did it, just a few minutes here and there over the past year, and that has been enough for me to see a change in my ability to cope with this crisis.
Thank you again for sharing the book recommendation and your experience. I am holding you in my thoughts.
Be well,
Claudia
Edited 10/2/2007 6:24 pm ET by claudia_l78
Thank you for your encouraging words, Blondegreen.
One of my big battles is my fear of running into my ex. He is a kind person, and would not intentially harm me, but I have fears anyway. I'm working through what these really are (mostly related to my self-esteem, I wager).
In my case..l feel he knows fully who I am and, as painful and sad and disappointing as his leaving the relationship is for me, I know in my heart that he made that decision from what was true and right for him. I also know that this was hard for him, and I am proud of him for following through anyway. It follows now for me to focus on the best in me...respecting, accepting, focusing on myself, and moving on.
That said...I'm still scared of how I will feel about myself when I see him.
I am thinking of you tonight!
Strength and healing to you,
Claudia
femcat -
I have been reading a book the last couple days that has been a big help, Pema Chodron's "When Things Fall Apart". It touches on a lot of the healing techniques I've been successfully using, and also the role of meditation in that healing. This part made me think of you (from Chapter 3, "This Moment is the Perfect Teacher"):
"The safest and most nurturing place to bgin working this way is during formal meditation. On the cushion, we begin to get the hang of not indulging or repressing and of what it feels like to let the energy just be there. That is why it's so good to meditate every single day and continue to make friends with our hopes and fears again and again. This sows the seeds that enable us to be more awake in the midst of everyday chaos. It's a gradual awakening, and it's cumulative, but that's actually what happens. We don't sit in meditation to become good meditators. We sit in meditation so that we'll be more awake in our lives."
"The first thing that happens in meditation is that we start to see what's happening. Even though we still run away and we still indulge, we see what we're doing clearly. One would think that our seeing it clearly would immediately make it disappear, but it doesn't. So for quite a long time, we just see it clearly. To the degree that we're willing to see our indulging and our repressing clearly, the begin to wear themselves out. Wearing out is not exactly the same as going away. Instead, a wider, more generous, more enlightened perspective arises."
It's crazy...it is working for me. ME. With my undisciplined crap meditation practice.
Grief used to feel like a roller coaster with sloooow ups and fast, fast descents. But now there is another element -- that thing that makes me suddely snap out of it and notice and be fully with the sun on my face or the friend at my side. Near the end of chapter 3, she wrote about that, too. I was so excited to read her words and know why!
"Out of nowhere, we stop struggling and relax. We stop talking to ourselves and come back to the freshness of the present moment".
In the margins, I wrote, "Yes!!! This happens!"
As you can imagine, I'm now meditating many times a day. :p