Friday, October 21, 2011

Obtaining indifference


“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.” ~Elie Wiesel

You can start a love with good intentions. Make no mistake, that’s exactly what I did.

I was just a kid out to prove the world didn’t drop off flat at the edge of my small town’s city limits. I had dreams as big as the sky and a belief all people were good and kind. Especially the man I brought home and called my very own.

It’s an accurate and true statement to say my marriage was not only lived, but survived. As day turned to night and the years passed, soon the babies came. An avid romance novel reader, I used to lay awake at night and secretly wonder to myself how the reality of my life could be so far from the romantic fiction of the pages I poured over. Even a tinge of romance would’ve kept the spark of hope alive for me. Right? No. But it might have made the inevitable prolongment more livable.

This young wife and mother grew up really quickly. I learned how to balance the unbalanceable. I righted wrongs that never should have been. And, I believed in my heart the opposite of love was in fact, hate.

Pure raw hate coursed through my veins. I felt sadness, anger and rage. I could not believe I had allowed my life to come to this. My children deserved fairytale parents. They deserved a world of fluff and fancy. Where their biggest concerns were not cemented in the tragedy of a crumbling family. I hated that I was part of a failing marriage and a failed love. I quickly came to believe sometimes love isn’t enough.

It wasn’t until the beginning of the end that I became awakened to the lesson of indifference. In learning how to truly live, survive and finally even experience real love – I learned how to learn to let go. To stop fixating on the failure. The anger. The ‘what should have, could have been.’

I have become a work in progress. There are still times when the facts of my life will bring me to my knees and the trigger reaction is to hate what has happened. To us.

It’s in those moments, I think of him and all he has taught me. And I think of the daisy. For when faced with adversity, the easiest thing in the world to do is give up. Hatred breaks you down. Makes you weak. If it hadn’t been for my before, I wouldn’t have the knowledge that I owe my life. And these experiences made me stronger. More determined to embrace life with eyes wide open.

I heard on the radio these song lyrics: "The best thing I finally learned about me was finding faith in ways, way beyond me... but I'm letting go and holding close to all the things that mean the most." ~Gloriana
  
Yes. I’m letting go. And I’m holding close, as tight as I can, all the things that mean the most.

Daisies bend. Not break. And the opposite of that former love, is finally indifference. 

Dance with me, 
~Daisy


Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The curbside prophet


“Love is like light and there are two kinds. The bursting fireworks of the moment and the solid, fixed stars that sometimes become obscured in the heavens, but are always there, year after year, for a lifetime. You must experience the first to appreciate the second. But be careful with the fireworks. They burn out quickly. And if you get too close, they can hurt.” ~Ann Rinaldi

If I had known then what I know now, I would have paid closer attention to the signs. As ‘they’ say in all ‘their’ infinite wisdom, hindsight is 20/20. At the time, I was so wrapped up in being a career wife and mother, meeting deadlines and making meals – I had no idea the message that was handed to me. Until it hit me with extreme clairvoyance.

I met Rudi a decent handful of months before the beginning of the end of my marriage. Under traditional circumstances, we may have become friends. Our children could’ve easily attended the same schools; our dogs could’ve fetched the same stick in the same dog park. But that intersection of fate wasn’t meant to be. Instead, Rudi was sent to teach me the difference between fireworks and stars.

Rudi is a curbside prophet. He entered my life only briefly, but his message will remain with me all my days. For, he gave me the knowledge of the daisy.

We hit it off famously. He dissected my personality in moments. He analyzed my sadness and offered hope for a brighter tomorrow. And he read my future like a fortune in the palm of his hand.

What he predicted for my heaven-on-earth could only be believed by the clinically insane. I never told anyone what transpired between us or Rudi’s prophesy. And, he left my life as quickly as he came.

It took me months to not feel his void. I would long for his guidance, as my life became very difficult, very quickly. It was right about then, my children and I packed up our few belongings and moved out to find a different course in the world.

Before he was gone for good, Rudi gave me this picture as a symbol of my future:

He once called me Daisy May.
As this story of love and life unfolded over time, I would soon come to understand why. 

Dance with me, 
~Daisy

Monday, October 17, 2011

The beginning of the end


“The only thing more unthinkable than leaving was staying; the only thing more impossible than staying was leaving.” ~Elizabeth Gilbert

My professional training dictates when the story reads negatively, it’s time to change the story.

In my personal life, this was easier said than done.

As someone’s wife for the best part of the last decade – I gave the best part of me…to him.

It’s a lesson in reality when you wake up next to someone and realize just because you took some vows and you took some chances, you don’t add up. You don’t make sense. Truth be told, we never did.

When bad became worse, the proverbial line was drawn in the sand. And, one year ago became the beginning of the end. The ‘before’ to my pursuit of happily everafter.

The hardest part for me was admitting to myself I was finally ready to call it quits. Afterall, I was no quitter. I took my marriage vows seriously and there was an expectation to last the long haul.

And then there was the house. Our house. I wanted to raise my children in this glorious home with its banisters and beams. I wanted to have 60 years of memories come flooding back to me on a porch swing one fine spring day in my golden years.

But, the line was drawn in the sand. I drew it. And I had to answer to myself if I let the waves wash it away, again. So, I got up and walked out of my reality. Never looked back. 

I just spent the last 12 months ‘getting dissolved.’

Little did I know waiting for me along my path was a symbol of innocence and purity. Planted just for me in perfect bloom. Loyalty and love. The symbol became a daisy.

The remarkable thing about a daisy – strength. They stay steadfast and strong. Bending when others would break. Hanging in there in perfect cadence.

Maya Angelou says, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” My survival is tied to the story of the daisy.

And this story I owe my life. I can’t wait to write it for it needs to be told.


Dance with me, 
~Daisy