I think I am back to blogging.  At least, I’m trying it out.  I’ve been having a significant urge to express myself through the written word, to share my message, and while I can dream about someday writing a children’s book, or a self-help guide, or the great American novel, I actually can post to my blog now, today, and as often as I want.  So here I go.

To catch up any former readers (yay for RSS feeds that never get cleaned up), and set context for new readers, here’s the brief synopsis of my last 5 years:

•  My husband died suddenly and unexpectedly in his sleep in April of 2008, at the age of 48.  Probable cause: heart arrhythmia.  I was 45 and our daughter was 21 months.  Sucked Big Time.
• I grieved, I learned, I grew, I integrated my loss.  I am still doing so.  Gets old sometimes.
•   I am a peer counselor at our local grief support organization, and I get a huge amount of fulfillment from contributing in this way.  If my experience can ease the way for just one other person, it will be pain well spent.
• I left my high-tech Silicon Valley job in the spring of 2011 to do something that held more meaning for me.  Hardest and best thing I ever did.
•  I launched a coaching business in the fall of 2011, which continues to grow and evolve.  I will receive my CPCC and ACC certifications in the next month or so.  WOOHOO!
• I sold our marital home in early 2012 and downsized to a townhouse half the size in the same city. Great decision, great timing, absolutely no regrets.
• I have dated a handful of nice men, but haven’t found The (next) One.  I’m somewhat fixated on remarrying, though when I examine my life and opportunities, I wonder why.  It’s all so good the way it is!  But bottom line, I’m lonely.  I yearn for intimacy, to belong to someone and have someone belong to me.

So that’s the latest.  I’m excited to be putting pen to paper (fingers to keyboard) again, and look forward to restarting the journey of discovery that writing launches.

Do you believe in magic?

I'll tell you about the magic, it'll free your soul

but it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll

-- John Sebastian

It's been magic around here lately. I put my big house on the market in February, after a fair amount of work to get it polished and perfect. My real estate agent and I planned for the most advantageous timing; I moved out so the house could be staged. I stated my intentions regarding price and ease of the transaction, then trusted it would all work out. And it did! Exactly as I had hoped, with an even better price that I had imagined. WOW.

The apartment we moved in to has been perfect. Three bedrooms, nice little patio, quiet location in the complex, very close to the old house and the kids' schools. All my furniture fit and a talented decorator friend helped me make it beautiful. I requested a six-month lease, which will be up at the end of May.

Yesterday I put an offer on a townhouse. It's in a tranquil, serene setting, with beautiful old trees and lots of open space. The unit itself is gorgeous, with high-end appliances, soaring ceilings and a detached two-car garage. It's close to B's new school, still in the town I've lived in since 1995. There were two other offers expected, per the seller's agent, so my agent and I decided on a pretty aggressive price. A price that made me a little nervous. Just in case the other offers didn't come through, though, we had a more modestly priced offer as Plan B. And darned if the other two potential buyers didn't back out! Plan B was accepted last night, and as of May 11th I'll be a homeowner again. WOW! And not only that, but the timing allows me to move us out of the apartment when the lease is up. Just like I planned! MAGIC. It feels like I'm in the cosmic flow, following my heart and stepping up to a bigger life. And the universe is stepping up to meet me!

Grief Landmine

Yes, things are going really, really well. I have hope and excitement for the future, energy and passion for today, and gratitude for the wonderful memories of the past. And I am still grieving.

I am exploring the world of life transition coaching: immersing myself in training, coaching and being coached. Yesterday I went to a coaching workshop, and as always occurs in these workshops, I was coached by some very talented people. Finding my next life partner is always a hot topic with me, and by the end of the day I was wrung out, exhausted, and sadder than I have been in a very long time. I felt overwhelmed by the burdens of living and parenting alone; making decisions about schooling and housing without an invested partner seemed more than I could bear. It was less about missing T directly and more about missing the state of being married to someone I love who loves me, but wow, I guess I forgot about how painful the missing and longing is.

Thankfully, I'm feeling much more stable today. I mean, I have this great life! But holy cow, will the yearning for a life partner ever wane?

Dear Old Life

Dear Old Life,

I am breaking up with you. We've had some great times, and I wouldn't change a thing, but I'm in love with My New Life. My New Life makes my heart beat faster, my spirits rise, my eyes sparkle. I am following my heart, not what I think I should do, or what I have always done in the past, or what I think others want me to do. What I Want. Wow, it's a whole new world.

There are many things I will miss about you, Old Life. The routine, the professional clothes, the sense of adding value (back when I was adding value). The big house, the luxurious vacations, the companionship and partnership. The focus, the limited need to choose, the automatic pilot.

And here are the things I won't miss: feeling stuck, feeling helpless, feeling hopeless.

There are SO MANY things I'm excited to do. My days are filled with conversation, learning, exercise, play, celebrating life. I'm starting two businesses, consulting, teaching, volunteering, reading, napping. Staying up too late. Good night!

So have I returned to wholeness? Yes, I think I have. And more. But I won't stop posting.

Tomorrow is the First Day of the Rest of My Life

I couldn’t face it anymore. Tomorrow is my first day of a leave of absence from work, and I don’t expect I’ll return. What will I do for a job, for money? I have no idea, but I know it will be fun and scary to figure it out.

What contributed to the situation? Probably not PMS or PMDD. The third anniversary of T’s death was April 24th (Easter this year), and with the focus on rebirth, renewal, re-creation of the Easter season, my stuckness probably just got too painful. A small windfall from T (stock options from T’s company that had been under water since the crash are suddenly worth something) was just enough to tip me over the edge. I had said I didn’t want to run FROM something, but rather run TO -- but I seemed incapable of making any progress on what the TO looked like while sapped of all energy and motivation.

All weekend I’ve been alternating between believing this was the best thing I’ve ever done, and panicking. What will I do for money? Can I really define a dream, go for it, and make it happen? Have I done irreparable harm to my professional chances, should I decide to go back into high tech?

It feels really strange, almost butterflies-in-my-stomach nervous-making, to know I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and not go to work. I’ll have to get B off to preschool as usual, but then … I am a free woman! A spin class, lunch with a dear friend, some reading, and perhaps a nap are on the agenda. I’m giving myself some time to de-tox before kicking the career investigation into high gear.

And then, watch out! Anything could happen!

Nevermind

OK, so what was THAT all about? Today I feel pretty much back to normal. There's a residual level of "I don't care about what I'm doing so it's hard to generate energy to actually do it", but I no longer feel like screaming and running away when I imagine doing this job for another two months or six months or whatever it ends up being. My therapist said that I wasn't "presenting symptoms of depression", and we speculated that it could in fact be PMS (or PMDD, she called it, premenstrual dysphoric disorder), or my subconscious realizing that T's birthday is coming up, or perhaps it was depression and the anti-depressant I've started taking has actually kicked in, or maybe it was the phase of the moon... Who knows? The plan is to see her again, continue with the anti-depressants, and pay attention three weeks from now when I'm premenstrual again. And not take the medical leave that had sounded so appealing last week, but seems quite unnecessary and even (dare I say) boring today. When I leave, I want it to be under my own power, as it were, if at all possible. Not, of course, that taking advantage of help, support, and a safety net is anything to be ashamed about. But only in the case of real need, and the need isn't there right now. As Emily Litella on Saturday Night Live would say, "Never mind!"

Guilt

I decided over the weekend that I felt capable enough to stick it out another four weeks. I couldn't face the thought of my co-workers hating me for disappearing, for dropping the ball on them. (I think I have an over-inflated sense of my own importance.) And I haven't told my boss yet, either ... feeling guilty for potentially gaming the system, convincing my doctor that I'm having a harder time than I really am. I mean, I manage just fine most of the time, right? No crying over the weekend, or today, for example. Or is my judgment impaired, clouded by the chemical imbalances of depression?

Tomorrow afternoon I go see my therapist, someone who helped me through an emotionally rough pregnancy, postpartum depression, and T's death. Clearly, she knows me very well and will help me sort this all out. I feel very fortunate to have such supportive professional help.