Holy year and how long?
In my last post I discussed how this blog needs to evolve – naturally – and asked for your suggestions (thank you by the way!)
But funny how life – and the universe – can provide the answer.
Several days after that post, the advertising industry was hit with another random tragedy and loss of a wonderful person. I knew this guy, who was robbed from this world, and all the possibilities of a beautiful life ahead – but I didn’t know him well. That didn’t change the impact of his loss or the heaviness I carried around for days. I met up with some of his close friends later that evening, and at first I questioned whether I had a place in that tight knit circle to mourn him. But you realize that the older you get, not only do you statistically know more people, and therefore are exposed to more loss – but the more blessed you feel to have the privilege of living.
His passing came, coincidentally, on the brink of my birthday. It was a big birthday. The number and the date had been beckoning for months, at some moments daunting me. I wondered how I would feel. Having been married for fourteen years, and then divorced, I didn’t predict that the picture of my life today would consist of the furnishings that now inhabit it. But of course, you can’t predict what your life will look like a year from now, or ten. We take comfort in thinking that we can (it gives us a needed illusion of control, and that’s okay). But this year, with the timing of my friend’s passing at such a young age, it underscored the preciousness of life. Of the now.
On the evening before my birthday, I was overcome by emotion. My boyfriend noticed my silence, and at first, he mistook it as sorrow. And I wasn’t sure whether his guess was accurate or not. But as the clock struck midnight (and I’m no Cinderella), as I sat beside him with a glass of wine on a porch near the beach, looking up at the stars, I realized that what I was feeling was gratitude. Gratitude for being given the privilege of experiencing this planet. And gratitude for the life that I had created for myself while on it, in the years since (and including) my marriage: my job, my love for my dog, my home life, my discovery of an inner writing life, and moreover – for the wonderful people who are an intrinsic part of it.
Are there tough times? Grievances that seem monsterous when I’m focused on them? Of course. I write about it plenty. But in moments like these, those musings seem irrelevant.
And then the Happy Birthday wishes started pouring in on Facebook. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that as they did, throughout the day, I checked my now deceased friend’s Facebook wall, filled with heart breaking lamentation. Facebook is a funny thing, isn’t it? I couldn’t help but notice the irony. The celebration of the birth of a life on one page, and mourning the end of one (like a virtual tombstone) on another – simultaneously occurring on the same app. The cycle of life imprinted on Facebook.
When I met up with my friends to grieve, we ended up talking about every detail that led up to our friend’s death. For closure, to find meaning? But all we could do was share, connect, and feel united in that moment, in the hopes that by doing so it would alleviate some of the sorrow or honor our friend’s memory. What can we take from such a thing? was a question frequently asked. We concluded, at least publically, that we could not.
But privately, it’s up to us – and not just when we celebrate the day of our birth – but every single day, when we wake up in the morning, to explore and celebrate what life means to us.
NO! (Caps intended).
It only took me six months to figure that one out. Duh.
For those of you who’ve wondered whether I’ve disappeared and gone fishin, the answer is yes. Except in a different pond.
I pulled the rod (no, not that kind) out of the online NYC dating pool, and by doing so I unconsciously hooked a very big fish. From the ex-boyfriend pool. And yes, he happens to be very big indeed (As in tall. Please get your heads out of the gutter).
My ex-boyfriend (call him Mr. Big II) reemerged on the heels of my last short-lived relationship. At the time, I thought it was merely a sign meant to spotlight the obvious things that weren’t working in the other relationship. I was skeptical to get back together with him, as most are.
I’ve heard divergent thoughts about getting back with the ex. Some people have said, “Your ex is an ex for a reason.” Others testify to the fact that a former ex can have future potential, specifically because they were your ex first. Not only because you already know eachother well when you rekindle and don’t have to go through the stressful (and perspective skewing) process of courtship, but because the act of breaking up itself fans the flames of the heart and reaffirms what it is you actually want – or had. Also, I believe that the experience of missing one another post break-up is a bonding experience in itself.
When Mr. Big II and I dated one year ago, I blogged for the duration of our relationship. I didn’t blog about him per se, but I frequently found it impossible to omit mentioning him or an incident when applicable to the post’s topic. People used to ask me (including the guy I was in the short term relationship with) how I could even reference him at all – a legitimate question. And “Short Term Guy,” after reading my blog before our second date, asked me not to even mention that I was dating him. He is a private guy, and while initially it was a jolt for me, I respected it. And so I didnt blog for the two months we dated.
I also considered that my posts over the last two years, specifically the early ones, were divorce-centric. I was still processing my divorce and in it’s aftermath, I had plenty to say (and consequently work out). Was the need to blog tied to those raw feelings I was digging through, and now that most of the pain has been mined and the learnings activated, am I officially over the divorce and therefore blogging about it?
So when Mr. Big II and I began dating again, I didn’t have the urge to blog anymore. I had also started a new book, and was pouring my creative energy into that, but I realized that was just an excuse. Taking a break made me realize the obvious (which was obvious to everyone but me):
Do I really want “the world” to be reading about my private life on a weekly basis?
If I did, I’d be writing a memoir – instead of fiction.
That said, I decided to write today because simply, frankly, I miss it. And oddly I miss my readers, invisible as you may be.
And I know Mr. Big II wouldn’t mind if I chose to blog again. He encourages me to write honestly, first and foremost, and trusts that I will respect his privacy in the process. But perhaps it’s time for a change in course. Perhaps this is an opportunity for my blog to evolve.
But into what?
I welcome your suggestions. And hope you hang with me in the process.
There is also something to be said for being okay without the assurance. For being okay with accepting and embracing where you are. For having faith in what is to come, which is beyond your control. And having faith in how you feel, and what you want.