Hurt so good

An interesting observation was made about me the other day that really got me thinking. I was told that I seem to have the opposite kind of trust issue than the majority of people. Rather than having a difficult time trusting others, I have the ability to trust, very quickly and very completely, in the people I let into my heart. Heck, maybe the last part of that sentence needn't even be there, seeing as how I've chosen to write a blog wherein I share stories of a most personal nature, the stories of my heart, with whoever happens to be reading. Regarding my blog, the way I see it, I don't expect any sort of adverse reaction or negative consequence to come from sharing and trusting so freely. Quite simply, it is a cathartic and creative process for me, and my little band of followers seems to enjoy what I have to say, so win-win. As for trusting the people in my life, I operate under the assumption that anyone who I have connected with is there as part of a Divine plan, and I take an "innocent until proven guilty" approach. I strive to find a way to embrace whatever and whoever comes my way, anticipating the best and not wasting my precious time and energy worrying about what harm might befall me by being so trusting.

Naturally, I get hurt.

By being so trusting I expose a very real and sensitive vulnerability to those close to me. I let them in, and for the ones who really matter, I actually hand over a little piece of my heart. I trust them to cradle it gently, but they're only human and sometimes they crush it; sometimes they crush me. It isn't intentional. It isn't malicious. It's life. It's love. We are all guilty of this. I can't think of one person, even revered saints and sages, who has not caused some sort of emotional harm to another human being. It is our nature. We can't help ourselves. Many times, the hurt comes about, at least in part, because of circumstances beyond either party's direct control. While trying to do right in one area, we cause harm in another. By trying to alleviate our own suffering, we provoke suffering for the ones we love. It is part of the human condition.

Last week was a trying one for me. My heart was already raw and aching from the end of my relationship, and much of my inner strength was going toward healing in a healthy way. Inwardly, I was two steps away from tears falling at just about any moment and caught up in processing a lot of different emotions. Outwardly, I was doing my best to own my decision and surround myself with the love, light and laughter of my friends, and as much yoga as I could fit into my schedule, so as not to fall apart. And then not one but two of my closest, most trusted friends dealt me enough of a blow to break the shell wide open. The tears fell for sure. Neither one of them did it on purpose. Neither one of them would have chosen to cause me any sort of harm if they could have helped it. They were both trying to make what they believed to be the best choice in a challenging situation, and it just happened that their decisions led to some suffering for me.

In the face of this turn of events, I had to ask myself whether what transpired was really so egregious, or if it was my own expectations of these individuals, the trust and love that I'd placed in them, that was the real cause of my pain. Had I not opened myself up to A. or to these two friends, could they have ever hurt me? This kind of thinking is how I imagine people begin to develop the more mainstream kind of trust issues. It seems like a very dangerous downward spiral from there, in my opinion. Instead of getting onboard for that particular ride, I found a different perspective to consider. Thanks to loving and trusting all of these people, I got to face some of my own crap and engage in the process of healing and growing. And since I was a little too in control of my post-breakup hurt feelings, the situations with my girlfriends ended up providing me what I needed most: release. I needed to cry big time. I needed to just let down my guard so I could feel the pain, sadness, disappointment and grief fully in order to begin the process of moving on. As I do, I become even more aware and appreciative of how incredible each one of the people in my life is, how much they bring me, how much I want to keep loving and trusting them, hopefully for our mutual benefit.

I could never live my life as an untrusting person. I'd be too afraid to miss the opportunity to feel, to connect, to experience all the juicy, messy, fantastic, wild goodness that opening your heart brings. I know living this way means I will get hurt from time to time, and I accept that. I accept that because it means I will love, and be loved, in ways far more powerful than the hurt could ever be. To me, that is more than worth it.

It's only a number

I've been a busy lady these last several weeks with lots of events, travel, connections and reconnections taking place. When I sat down to think about how they all tie together and what I should build this blog entry about, numbers popped into my mind. Numbers. Numbers? Yes, numbers.

Normally I'm not a fan. Math was always my least favorite subject and my first fall from straight-A grace in grade school. If it weren't for a calculator and my slightly beyond basic knowledge of MS Excel, I'd be hard pressed to produce an ROI analysis for any of my clients. My finances are in order simply because I've learned to live within my means and avoid credit like the plague, not because I'm some budget whiz kid. I stopped wearing a watch years ago and there isn't much that I "keep tabs" on because I'm just not all that concerned with numbers in any which way. Think again, Jess. Numbers have recently revealed themselves to me in a new and definitely more interesting and meaningful capacity.

Last week I bore witness to the fact that the number of years that you know someone really can have a profound impact on the quality of your relationship. As a person who makes fast friends with great ease, I've never been particularly concerned or impressed by the length of any given relationship as an indicator of its strength or significance. But watching my mother with two of her very best friends, part of a group of women who have known each other for more than 40 years and have known me since I was in utero, I saw firsthand the magic of that kind of bond. Then a saw another nuance added to the mix when they were joined by a friend who they have known for just as long but have only recently reconnected with. It was spectacular. They were surrounded by a glowing energy that was palpable. I haven't seen my mom this happy in a long time, and I can't find words to properly tell you what that means to me. I, along with another daughter of the group, felt a complete and immediate sense of connectedness and familiarity as well, even though she and I were meeting for the first time and were not directly linked to this long standing bond. Why?

The why is in the numbers. The years of history that these women share. The sheer number of stories and experiences in their lives that the others feature in as main characters. The countless tears that spilled and laughter that erupted from their hearts. Not time nor distance can subtract from all that they have accumulated over the years, and it makes for a sum total of incredible, enduring sisterhood. It was inspirational to witness, and I feel blessed to be part of the next generation that gets to share in this bond.

Numbers have featured into my current story in another way recently. Age. Truly, in my humble opinion that I get to shamelessly flaunt since I'm the one writing the blog, age is one of the most insignificant numbers there is. This becomes particularly true as an adult. There is a big difference between a 12- and 22-year-old, but not necessarily between a 30- and 40-year-old. Now, don't get all bent out of shape just yet, "older" members of the audience! What I am getting at is that the number of years any one of us has spent inhabiting this planet in this particular life is not an indicator of our maturity, our emotional intelligence or our ability to connect and relate to people of different ages. Some of my best, closest, most trusted friends are 10 and 20 years older than me, and believe me when I say I relate to them far better than half of the 29-year-olds that I know. I do have some amazing friends my own age, but I have always been very comfortable in the company of people who's physical age is greater than mine. This has proven true in friendships and intimate connections.

Thanks to these last few weeks, I have a new appreciation for numbers. I honor long-standing relationships that have endured and flourished, new ones that have sent my heart spinning and soaring to unknown heights, friends that share the same birth year as me and the ones who are from a different decade altogether. You are all so much more than a number to me and added together, you are the joy, inspiration and support that makes my life a beautifully balanced equation. You have my gratitude.

Family Matters

Mother. Father. Children. Throw in a couple sets of grandparents. Maybe a few aunts and uncles. Sprinkle in some cousins. Isn't that a family? That definition doesn't work for many and certainly never worked for me. Even as a child, I was pushing the boundaries of a traditional family. I instinctively knew I couldn't possibly get everything I needed and wanted from my immediate family unit. I considered my mother's best friends my aunts despite having a few biological ones as well. I felt so wholly comfortable and part of families that I had no blood connection to that I spent as much time with them and trusted them as my own relatives. It isn't to say that I didn't or don't have close relationships with my family, but we are a small group and it seems that it is in my nature to want to be part of a bigger family tree. I can't help what I was born into but I can plant my own seeds. And so I did.

I have been "adopted" into quite a number of families, sharing in the good times and bad, the birthdays, the holidays, the milestones. I love the members of these special, beautiful clans with all my heart, just as they have opened their hearts and homes to me. We've already touched on the fact that I'm nuts for kids, but there are some kids in particular, children of my dearest friends, who I love as if they were my own, and I would absolutely do anything within my power to support, protect and nurture them. While I was married I was part of a huge Latin family who's tree had so many branches I lost count, and I absolutely relished in it. All the "tias and tios", the "primos" everywhere we went. It's no wonder I'm still so drawn to that culture and their men! And there is this immense sisterhood that I am blessed to be a part of. . .a group of sensational, inspiring, beautiful women from such a diverse array of backgrounds that have come together to form a family unto ourselves. My soul sisters, and for a girl who grew up with a brother as her sole sibling, it is really an immense treat to experience!

Last night one of my sisters raised a glass of very special wine that she selected for our family in honor of the sentiment I just shared. With tears of joy and gratitude in her eyes, she spoke of the family she was born into, spread out geographically and emotionally, and how it is this family that we have all consciously chosen to create and nurture that makes her feel at home. My heart swelled because I truly understood how she felt. Another one of my sisters shared that it was only in becoming a part of our family that she truly found herself since for all her years prior she had been so strongly defined by her role in relation to the family she was born into. I get that too.

Family is what you make it, what you want it to be. We are not all born into the Leave It to Beaver family that was once the touchstone of our society. Many of us have very strained relationships or deep-seeded issues tied to the parents, siblings and relatives we grew up with, while others have truly remarkable connections to these people in their lives. One is not better than the other. It is our karma to be born into these different situations. It simply is what it is and then it becomes your choice as an individual to decide what you do with that experience. And let us not forget to look beyond our immediate line of sight and take time to honor the human family bound together by the universal energy that exists within us all. This is at the core of yogic teachings, and while it may not be the easiest lesson to grasp for some, I personally believe it to be true and strive to act accordingly.

One family. One love.

Divide and conquer

Often when a marriage ends, there are assets and liabilities to be divided. Who will take the house? What about that expensive piece of art you bought together or the mutual fund you invested in jointly? Will the kids spend evenly divided time between both parents? These are the sorts of things that come to mind when you tick down the list of what needs to be split between two people who entered into a contract to share just about every aspect of their lives with one another, only to find that it wasn't meant to be a forever thing.

My situation was a lot simpler in most regards. C. and I were able to very clearly and, for the most part, very amicably, decide where to draw the dividing line and what would end up on each of our respective sides. The hardest asset, or perhaps in some instances, liability, to divide, has been people. When you spend so many years with someone, your friends and family become the other person's friends and family too. This isn't true of every single relationship that you both hold, but it definitely happens to some extent in most.

C. and I both have maintained a degree of contact with each other's blood relatives and some very dear friends. There is a lot more distance than when we were together and there is an unspoken deference to the fact that everybody knows where everybody else's loyalty lies. One exception to this rule are the couples that C. and I met and befriended as a couple. Neither of us had pre-existing ties to these people, neither of us had more skin in the game. Some of these people I considered to be very dear friends indeed, almost like family, and it has been a challenge to determine what my relationship to them will be now that I am not part of the couple that they have known. It is hard to know that these friends still maintain their own relationships with my former love, my former other half, while I analyze and stress over how to behave in the same room as him when our paths do cross. Most of all, it is really hard not to get your feelings hurt when your mutual friends can't quite figure out what to do with the two of you now that you're not together.

It has been a year and a half since C. and I separated. In that time, there have been a handful of events at least where we were both in attendance. . . birthday parties, baptisms, going- away celebrations. It seemed that the couples that were our common friends mostly took the position of "we'll invite them both and trust them to make their own decision as to whether or not to come". That worked well for the most part. Not to say that I didn't feel alternating tension, heartache and confusion in some of these instances, but I think outwardly C. and I did a good job of not letting our situation distract from the reason why we were in the same room in the first place- someone else that we both happen to know and love.

Imagine my surprise when, at this late stage, I found out that the core group of our mutual friends got together recently for a weekend of festivities that I was neither informed of nor invited to simply because C. was. What happened to inviting us both and letting us decide? It was a giant slap in the face, after having tried so hard to not have our separation interfere with these friendships. It stung, it made tears prick my eyes, it made the breath catch in my chest and it made me wonder just how you deal with dividing up this particular asset that presently feels like a liability. Is it really possible? Can these friendships preserve the level of closeness that they had when we were all couples, evenly balanced, no dividing lines drawn? I had hoped so but now I'm not so sure.

These are the opportunities I am given to evaluate the relationships in my life, nurture those that serve me and release those that do not. I am thankful for such moments just as I am thankful for my friends who's loyalty I do not have to question. Both represent a different sort of gift and I am grateful.