Balance, Comfort Zones, New Things. It's All Related.

Just a little glimpse into what my life looked like last week. This is typical of my weeks when I don't have the boys. A co-worker commented to me yesterday after I shared all this with him that I may need a little balance in my life. My response was, "I do nothing at all (but hang with my boys) for one week, and then I go out and socialize every night for the next one. Then the process repeats itself. That is balance." Isn't it?

Saturday, May 5:
7:00am - departure time. This week Tim and I climb in 11 Mile Canyon. I fall in love with it.
6:00pm - Home from climbing. Usually I do nothing after a day of climbing because I'm exhausted. (And often we're home around 9:00 or so anyway, which, after a day of climbing, is too late for me to want to do anything else). But this past week John* invited me to a friend's house to make/eat sushi. Completely out of my comfort zone to join a friend I barely know and friends of his I don't know at all. But this new life is all about pushing myself out of that comfort zone. And every time I do, I'm so glad. Had a great time. 

Sunday:
All day - Hole up and focus on school until evening. Every other Sunday when I don't have my boys I spend the day planning lessons for the next two weeks of school. And it does take all day. Four core subjects (social studies, science, math, and language arts) x 5 days a week x two weeks. Plus any grading that has to be done. Plus I'm writing all my math curriculum right now.

Last Sunday I took it up a notch. I decided that if I was going to be in the apartment all day doing lesson plans, I might as well get some baking done. I whipped out one batch of granola, two batches of cookies (Rosemary and Honey cookies and Peanut Butter cookies), waffles, muffins and a good-sized batch of cauliflower, potato, and egg curry made.
5:30pm - John* and I head out for a ten mile bike ride. I don't die. This equals success.

Monday:
5:30am - Up for work.
8:00am - Another great day of teaching begins. 
4:00pm - Done with another great day of teaching.
6:00pm - Tim comes over and helps me finish up my cauliflower curry.

Tuesday:
Work all day.
5:30pm - I meet John* and some kee-razy friends of his at Old Chicago. And laugh for three hours. And lose my voice. Completely. For days.
                                                                                          (this is John)

Wednesday:
I can't talk, so I teach all day by typing everything onto the computer, which is projected onto the screen in the front of my classroom (this repeats itself on Thursday and most of Friday).
7:00pm - Meet the kids at Chuck E. Cheese, where their dad took them to celebrate Little Guy's 7th birthday. Whisper to them for an hour and then head home.

Friday:
5:30am - Up for work.
8:00am - Another great day of teaching begins. 
4:00pm - Done with another great day of teaching.
4:30 pm - Head up the mountain after work to hang out/dine with Brent.** Though still programmed into my phone as Brent Nomad since the day I met him, I think I'm going to have to change it to Brent Gourmet. Appetizer of bread dipped in olive oil and sun dried tomatoes, Kung Pao and rice, and blueberries in coconut milk for dessert.

a.ma.ZING! 

Saturday, May 12:
11:00am - run errands with the kiddos.
12:00pm - Take pictures of my Little Guy. It's tradition that on their birthdays I take pictures of them in one of their Papa's old button-downs. Except I don't have access to them anymore, so I purchased one to keep on hand for this occasion.
5:00pm - John* and I and my boys and his daughter head to the birthday party of one of the guys*** we had dinner with at Old Chicago on Tuesday. Four more hours of laughter, on a voice just barely recovering, but life's too short to worry about stuff like that.

(This year's photos above, past years below)

*John and I just met a few months ago, although he grew up right up the street from me. For years we lived within a few minutes' walk of each other, but I never knew him. He's six years younger than I am, and that's a big age gap at that age (I was 16 when he was in 4th grade).

**I think Brent is my favorite person to hang out with. Not only do I really enjoy his company, but there's a heck of a lot of substance to that guy, which makes his company quite enticing.

***Every time Butch introduced us to people at his party he would say, "This is John, and his fiancee, Beth." (I said above that John's friends are kee-razy). John and I were shocked at first and that showed on our faces, so people knew Butch was joking. But by the end of the night we were entertaining ourselves (and others) by playing along. People would congratulate us and we would just smile and say thank you. And then start arguing about whether or not we were going to have a bounce house at the reception.

 

Umm, yeah, pretty much every day.

A Place of Discovery

Through tunnels and around bends...

There is a place where the river meets the rocks.

Fly-fishermen occupy the former. Climbers, the latter.

In the dog days of summer, the two meet, as climbers, hot from the exertion of reaching (and often surpassing) the birds...

Take to the water to cool off.

Not this day, though.
Early May is too early, the water too cold. Instead, we are content to bask in the beauty of the nature...
(some still)...

(some rushing)...

 All around us, and content ourselves with just a dip of the toes.

And although at lower altitude the Aspen trees are full, here in the mountains, the trees, too, seem just a little hesitant to unfurl in the chill that the higher elevation brings.

 

The leaves are tiny, the foliage not yet concealing the deeper recesses of the forest. 

This canyon is not far from where I grew up, yet I don't remember ever going there. I'm grateful for that, because sometimes, when you grow up familiar with something, you take it for granted. I certainly didn't with this place. I was able, instead, to look at it with the eyes of someone wanting to discover.

And like the river, revealing its beauty secrets upon closer inspection...

Or the forest, prodding you to look past the grove and see the details...

So there were mysteries set in stone, routes in this rocky playground waiting to be solved. A lot of looking at the rock, trying to decipher what it was saying. A lot of moving my fingers in all directions as far as I could reach, searching for holds so small they were invisible until I touched them. Like reading a good mystery novel and trying, with each page, to figure out the twist at the end, the rock held back and made me do the sleuthing.

I discovered more than beauty that May day at Eleven Mile. I discovered that due to all the mantling, which I love more than any other move, it is my favorite place to climb to date.

I also uncovered another piece to the puzzle of why I so enjoy climbing with Tim. It's because he knows (pretty intuitively, I might add), how to respond to me. "I hate this part!" I cried down to him at a difficult point of a climb. "Oh, no you don't." he said back, quite matter-of-factly. Like we were talking about the weather or fruit flies or something equally mundane. And I started to laugh. Really, really laugh. Because he was right. I don't hate any of it. I get frustrated sometimes with the lack of direction the rock is willing to hand out, and complaining - and then climbing through it - is my way of getting even with the rock. Tim knows that's how I tick; he has gotten it from day one. He encourages me in exactly the way I respond best to. Instead of saying, "Ok, then, let's do something else," he knows exactly when I'm all just talk.

My day of climbing in Eleven Mile Canyon also marks another milestone. It was the first time I led, anchored in, and set up my own rappel without Tim up there with me.

Indescribable, it is, this thrill of so much discovery.

Can't wait to get back to where the river meets the rock.

What Else We Do Outside

 Play in the sandbox and Nana and Gramps' house:

Hair cuts.

Here's the crazy before, in desperate need of one.

And the much better after. 

He loves his little tail, which is really quite long but curls like a pig's tail, so you'd never know. 

Whittle. 

Little Guy got a knife from his Gramps this week and is in heaven. 

Now both boys have one. 

Let's just hope there's no mutual stabbing going on.

And in other news, Little Guy finished his first piano book today. Proud boy. 

Proud Mama. That book was my first piano book, too, when I was his age. 

(That was only 34 years ago).

I tried a new recipe for dinner tonight. I got it from my friend Brent, who lives in his van in my hometown. Yes, he makes this in his van. His lifestyle amazes and inspires me. I think I say that every time I write about him. Anyway, this is eggplant (first time I've ever made it) topped with quinoa (keen-wah. And it's extremely healthy as well as delicious!). I mixed avocado, red onion, and tomatoes, and spread that over it. Then there's a cranberry chutney on top that I made with real cranberries (not canned, nosiree), honey, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil. Then I topped it all with walnuts. It was sooo good.

 

At least, my mom and I thought so. None of the men in the family really liked it. But she and I are really enjoying eating way less meat than we used to. And I'm trying, for the month of May, to eat {almost} nothing but produce and grains. So far I've done pretty good. Oh, and no sugar. Which is hard, because I'm such an addict. Especially when it comes to ice cream. But I'm on day three, and only wanting to give in a dozen or so times a day, so that's pretty good, right?  The first week is always the hardest...

This weekend I'm heading to climb in Eleven Mile Canyon, which will be another new area for me, even though it's not too terribly far from where I grew up. Pictures next week, when I'm back around internet service again. Until then, you know where you can find me...

Outside! Story of my {new} life.

A Little Bit of In, A Little Bit of Out

A LITTLE BIT OF "OUT"

Saturday, April 21. The girl is back in Boulder Canyon for the first time in two months, since her first outdoor climb on February 25th. This time we climbed the Avalon section. Much better (read: more challenging) than Riviera. And kinda nice to go back to the scene of the crime. ;-)

Although Eldorado Canyon is stunning, Shelf Road is diverse, and the Garden...well, it's just scary as hell to climb on the sandstone in the Garden...Boulder Canyon may be my favorite place at this point.
Maybe that's because it was my first.
Firsts are always special.
Although, if I had a nickle for every first-time I've experienced in my life lately...

Here was another first. Tyrolean crossing of the river.

We clipped onto the rope with two 'biners and quickdraws and pulled ourselves across.
Not the best for the back, I must say, but up there on the fun factor.

To get to our climbs, we don't always get to just park and climb. Usually we have to hike up and up and up to get to them.

High above Boulder Canyon. 

See this huge smile? I celebrated another huge accomplishment this day. This was at the top of Contact, a 2-pitch climb. Tim led the first pitch and I FINALLY leapfrogged with him and led the second (I say "finally" like it's taken forever. For me to do this after just two months of climbing outdoors is probably not too shabby). I onsighted it perfectly, and then, also for the first time, anchored myself in and set up the belay from the top so Tim could follow and clean the route. Amazing. Proud moment here.

Stopping for lunch. We always end up eating around 2:00. We're so into climbing we never notice when it's lunchtime. And then when we do notice the time we force ourselves to stop climbing so we can eat - and keep our strength up - so we can keep climbing. On Tim's FB page someone commented on this picture, "See how cool is climbing!!!! Who else but climbers can have picnics in places like this!!" I couldn't agree more - see the leetle cars on the road below?

I think I did 6 or 7 routes that day.  Flashed Contact. Was scared to death on the Tower (Seriously. Told Tim I'd never climb it again. And that was after climbing Gambit in Eldo). Was completely dominated by Dominator (definitely going to need to try to conquer that one another time). Enjoyed Lust. Don't remember the others...

 

Back on level ground after a day of climbing (and another Tyrolean crossing).

Sunday, April 22, we climbed in the Garden again. Did New Era in two pitches instead of three this time, now that Tim knows I can carry my weight in gear. There is a moth problem in Colorado Springs right now. Thousands of them. I don't know what that's about, but there were so many in the Garden on Sunday that the birds were out chasing them and we had to swat them away from our faces. There were times Tim placed a piece of gear or stuck his hand in a crack and swarms of them flew out. He even had to climb the last half of the first pitch with one in his shirt. We started calling the route Infestation for the afternoon. It was crazy. And then I led Potholes after that, which was nothing after having led Contact. Not even a challenge anymore. So I'm marking that one off my list.

Until two weeks ago it had been about two months since I'd been to the climbing gym, but I'm noticing some core strength development that goes on there that I don't get outside. So I've started to go back on occasion. On Monday I climbed in the gym with my friend John. He hadn't climbed in years, and didn't do very well. But I'm going biking with him next Sunday, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna die, so I won't talk about which one of us can do better at the others' sport of choice. Tim and I were going to climb in the Garden again Friday, but it rained on Thursday and you can't climb the sandstone when it's wet (it's horrid enough when it's dry), so we hit the gym again. So, four days of climbing in a week. That's a first for me. And I'm still sore. But it's a really good kind of pain! ;-) 

Brent, a friend of mine in WP, who I hiked with quite often in the winter, before I started climbing outside, wrote me after I commented that I needed to head up there to hike with him again soon, "Yeah, don't be so cold and distant. After all, you can see more when you're not glued to a big rock and wondering where you're going to clip into your next anchor." Ah, yes. If only it were that easy to pry me away from the rocks...
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A LITTLE BIT OF "IN"

One more step made toward total move-in -- pictures on the walls. Here's my hallway with a flower picture and the wood cutouts I made (here). I also hung my gold capiz shell chandelier over the hallway light. I run my fingers through it every time I walk by. I love the sound, like air fluttering through leaves.

Got my sunburst mirror up in my bedroom, which I refuse to start referring to as my snowflake mirror just because everyone else does. Bah!

Minnesota lake in the kitchen...

And my absolute favorite piece hung by the front door.  Which is looking a little off-scale now that I see it in a photo. I may have to add something to that wall.

I also hung my Indian mirror up across from the front door, so it's the first thing I see when I walk in. I'm still totally in love with her. ;-)

I've also decided on my paint color. I'd been mulling over muted, dull blues, but have been hesitant to commit because of how dark the carpet is. But after bringing paint swatch after paint swatch home, taping them to the walls, and staring at them for days, I realized the answer was given to me months ago when Kim told me what color to paint my ceiling in my house in Texas. Windwood Spring (By Behr, I think) and it's going to be perfect. Painting is not on the horizon yet, because I'm going to have to wait until school's out. I really don't have the time to devote to painting while I'm teaching. But come June 9th people will have to run to get out of my way or get paint splattered all over them. Yes, I'm THAT ready to paint! Haha!

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Little Guy got all my dad's old marbles out yesterday. Earlier this week, when they were with their dad, I put them out in a vase on top of my entertainment center. It was one of the first things he played with when he came over on Saturday. Because how can an almost 7-year-old boy resist that??  ;-)

Oldest Boy brought me flowers today. Indian Paintbrushes. Oh, the memories that brings back. Hiking in the mountains of WP, plucking out and sucking on the part that holds the nectar...

And my latest DIY. Yup, green tights. I took the boys to see Wicked this afternoon (my third time in less than a year), and was just not going to go without the green tights this time. I couldn't find any (well, I also searched not.at.all because I didn't care that much), so I just dyed some white ones.

I got my share of funny looks before the performance, but by the time it was over I was getting tons of comments and compliments. Everyone loves the "Wicked" Witch of the West by the end, and then everyone wants to show their solidarity. So then I was popular (and if you know the show, then I just made another funny comment with that one!). ;-)

LIVING AND LOVING, IN AND OUT!

my perspective on my divorce

I was thinking the other day that a lot has gone on in the past seven months of my life. I've moved states, moved back "home," moved in with my parents, started working for the first time in ten years, filed for divorce, and rented my own place (for the first time ever, I might add).
But really, it hasn't been just seven months. It's been over a year.

Because it's March 12 of 2011 that I mark as the day I did the 180 of my life. It's one of those life-defining dates. You know, the day you get married, the day you have kids, the day someone dies, the day you move to such-and-such a place or start such-and-such a job or meet such-and-such a person...


                                         (Sunrise or sunset?)

March 12. The day I ignored "what I was supposed to do" (which is - gasp! - a huge thing for me) and did what I wanted to do. What I needed to do.

It came in the form of confiding something to someone - which in turn meant admitting something to myself - and it opened what a few people in my life may view as a can of worms.

They can view it as they like.
In my opinion I opened a can of, oh, roses or something.

Although I don't particularly care for roses.
So let's call it a can of orchids.

Whatever it was, it was right.

I had to fight against myself for a while, to be OK with what was happening.

Everything in me hated the idea of divorce...

Everything but the part of me that was dying.

Sometimes change is excruciating.
Sometimes it's excruciating because it happened to you and you didn't want it to and everything in you wishes it didn't happen so you didn't have to deal with things you never wanted to deal with.
Sometimes it's excruciating because you're the one making it happen and you aren't really sure it's the best decision for all involved (i.e. my children), and it means a lot of hardship in the short run at the least and the long run at the worst and you really don't know, ten years down the road, if you'll be happier because of your choice.

I don't know.

I don't know ten years down the road how I will feel.


                           (Beautiful contrast.)

I only know how I feel now.

Liberated.
Freed from a lot of things. Too many to go into.

Like Myself.
Without realizing it, I'd traded who I was for who I thought everyone else thought I was supposed to be.
I'm her again.

Lonely.
The nights when the kids are with their dad, it's hard to not think they're supposed to be with me. The apartment is quiet. But I'm learning to live with the solitude.

Loved.
So many people have been unconditional with it.
Very good, old friends have stood beside me and held me up when I needed it most.
And tons of new friends I've met over the last six months have stepped into "instant friend" mode.

A Little Lost.
It's not always easy finding your own way when you've been told for so many years what to do. The last time I made all of my own decisions was over 14 years ago. There's a freedom in it, sure, but it's also a little unnerving.

Light.
A huge burden has been lifted. One I didn't realize was there. One I'm disgusted was there because it was a burden of pretense. I hate pretense. I hate that I allowed it to so creep and seep into my life that I didn't even notice it was there or that I was living a lie so well.

Limited.
There's a lot to relearn. Going back to work after a full decade of stay-at-home-mom leisure. Forget the "re" - there's a lot to just plain learn. Like providing for myself. And single parenting. And balancing work and play and kids and errands. And funds.
And, and, and...
A million "ands."

You'll probably notice there's a lot of back-and-forth listed above. Good and bad.
I'm not going to sugar-coat it.
Divorce is difficult.
In some ways.
But it gets better.

Even though there are hard days, I feel that the hardest days are behind me.
Emotionally, anyway.
I had weeks and weeks back in Texas where sleep was the only time I was at peace. Every.waking.moment was difficult to get through.
Days where I had to move from hour into hour, because thinking any further ahead than that was impossible. There was just no way. My brain was in one kind of prison. My body was in another.

There is nothing worse than hopelessness.

                               
                             (Are you going up or down?)

But I haven't had a day like that since I left Texas.

There have been a lot of unknowns.
A couple menial jobs that I hated.
(Kim described them as "soul-draining." Apropos statement}.
A lot of learning to take care of things myself (you know, I'd never had to put oil in my van or air in the tires, and those are just the little things).
Some fear of the future.
Will things work out??
Will I be OK?
Will life be OK?

I'm here to say yes. Resoundingly.
Because even if things don't work out exactly how you want them to, it's still better to go through that and be true to who you are than vice versa.
For me anyway.
There's nothing better than being true to who you are.
Nothing better than putting a stop to something that was sucking all the life out of...life.
Nothing better than saying no more.
Eventually.
Finally.


                             (The rainbow or the clouds? - photo courtesy of my friend Kristin).

A pastor friend from high school, when I told him I could stay in my marriage and just survive, responded, "God didn't intend for people to just survive."
A counselor once commented, "There are different kinds of emotional abuse. There's the kind when people yell and scream at someone. Then there's the kind when they ignore them and discount everything they say. Just because you're not yelling and screaming doesn't mean it's not emotional abuse."
A friend from California mentioned, "You just haven't seemed happy the last few times I've seen you."
A former teacher - now friend - commented, "I've noticed in your Facebook posts that you are back to being the old you. The you you were in high school."

It's all part of me saying, "Enough."

There's a lot of good and a lot of bad in making major life-changing choices.
I would be lying if I said it's been easy. It hasn't.
But it HAS all been worth it.
The back-and-forth.
The give-and-take.
The step this way and then the step that way.
A dance that's a combination of joy and pain.

Yes, there's been a lot of wondering if I'm going to end up upright. If the joy is going to end up outweighing the pain.
 
                                        (Which way is upright, anyway?) 
 
It has. 
I have ended up upright.
Partly due to luck.
Partly because I am too stubborn not to.
But mostly because I decided before I did it that if I was going to turn my life upside down I was going to embrace every single aspect of it. That means the parts that are uncomfortable and scary and painful just as much as the parts that are lovely and joyful and freeing.

I recently had a long conversation with a friend. He told me he likes how, despite what I'm going through, I'm always upbeat. Although he was being generous with that compliment - because it's not completely true (he's seen me cry and has patiently listened to me vent on a couple occasions) - for the most part he's right. And it's because I made the decision at the outset of all this that I was going to be OK with my choices and the outcome of them. I refused to live in a state of depression or regret or guilt or fear.

And then he paid me one of the best compliments I've ever gotten.

"I like you," he said, "Because you're so present."


And then my oldest brings me this. Think my perspective may be contagious?

That's what the thus-far part of my journey has done for me.

I love this dance.