Tending to My Garden

Vulnerability.  It's scary.  How can I be vulnerable when I've been trying to cover that up for so long?  The truth is, I am vulnerable.  I am a human experiencing life, with all its ups and downs, and it affects me.  Phew, it's out.  You now know that I'm not Superwoman.  Now I can move on.  I can allow myself to feel, I can find resources to work with those feelings, and I can grow.

These last few months, maybe my whole life, I've been collecting resources to help me through this.  The biggest one I've found is in relationships.  As Hector and I have created more and more space between us, it's allowed me to find intimacy in new ways.  So often I would have tried to find intimacy in a romantic relationship.  I yoked emotional intimacy in with romantic intimacy.  When a relationship would end, I would feel emotionally betrayed, forsaken even.  In the last few months I have been fortunate enough to be a part of women's circles.  These gatherings, unlike so many meetings and workshops (which I also love), have no agenda, no set goals to achieve.  Instead, they're organically designed for us to simply support and share with each other.  Luckily, this energy is not limited to these circles.

I can't do this alone.  By "this", I mean life.  I'm learning how important relationships really are to me.  At the same time, I didn't move hundreds of miles away from those closest to me for nothing.  This is where my garden comes in.  I'm learning to get to know my internal landscape.  All those buttons my loved ones know how to push are still alive within me.  Interacting with others allowed me to see things on a grander scale.  As I step away from the human triggers, I see that I perpetuate the same patterns within my own mind, emotions, and habits.  That frustration at my own untidiness, forgetfulness, or whatever.  That's still happening.  Though someone else might have planted the seeds long ago, I have been watering these weeds for far too long.

Weeds are tricky.  They often leave roots or drop seeds, and will simply come back again.  In Permaculture we learned to read them.  Yellow dock grows where the soil is very moist, thistle where it's been disturbed.  Each weed grows there for a reason.  Part of my process involves being a counselor-detective.  Why did this weed grow in the first place?  Where is this behavior coming from?  Weed whacking isn't going to help here.  I need to bring that energy of the women's circle, full of its support and desire to help, into this yard, into myself.  With that gentle, patient, insistent love, I can work with my garden in a way that is more harmonious and in tune with who I am.  After all, I'm really looking to integrate all the parts of myself- the parts that get frustrated and the parts that just want to leave the dirty dishes in the sink.

Now I'm taking stock, and I'm taking note of all my resources.  I know what tools I have, and what folks I can reach out to for help.  Part of me wants to mow down the whole garden and start from scratch, but I know the weeds will be the first things to come back.  Instead, I'll keep the vision, and work a small section at a time.  Most importantly, I'll remember to step back every once in a while to take it all in- the weeds, the flowers, and everything in between.

Taking the Leap

This is it.  I'm jumping for it.  There's fear, but there's also excitement and hope at what lies ahead.  About a month and a half ago I left the family business, my hometown, some family and friends, and of course, Hector.  The last one is bringing tears to my eyes as I write.

For so long I was scared to express myself, I feared what others would think, I feared I wasn't OK as I am.  Now I'm speaking out, I'm being me.  I read a quote the other day, something to the effect of, "Be who you are.  Others don't have to like you.  You don't have to care."

I'm inspired by Elizabeth Gilbert, Maya Angelou, Brene Brown, Glennon Doyle Melton, and all the other women who have dared to show up fully in the world.  I'm inspired by those around me who perhaps don't have famous names, but dare to follow their dreams, one hopeful and sometimes painful step at a time.  I'm ready to acknowledge my vulnerability as a human, and to embrace the fullness of life, in all its colors.  And I'm ready now to stand up and be counted as someone who was bold enough to speak from their heart.

Over the last year I've been observing an interesting phenomenon.  All around me couples have been parting ways in a wave of conscious uncoupling.  As Hector and I started to see our relationship giving way to something new, we noticed the same happening to those around us.  There was no betrayal, no falling out of the deep human love we all had for each other.  The relationships were just becoming outdated, somehow ill-fitting now.

As I waded through the process of separation, riding the ups and downs, a friend recalled a recent dream she'd had.  Her house had burned down with everything in it.  She stood with sadness about to well up as she looked at the ashes.  A friend walked up just before a tear formed to remind her that, "We are going to build a better one."  All along the way, little nuggets of insight such as these littered my path.  To me they were signposts, reminding me I was on the right track.  As time went on, I started to hear about more and more couples starting to part ways.  I understand this may seem like a common occurrence, happening all the time, but this felt different.  This new wave was more conscious uncoupling, and less about dramatic breakups.  For Hector and I, we had just learned to lean on each other for far too long.  It was not like were were parting wounded and broken, but just a little wobbly.  Instead, we walked away hopeful and inspired to stand tall by our own merits.

And here I am, remembering what it's like to be me again, on my own two feet.  I'm working through my issues without projecting them on someone else.  I'm learning to recognize the patterns I created and continue to create in my relationships.  I'm learning how to break old cycles, and create new ones that fit who I truly want to be.  I'm learning how to rewrite my story so that "I can build a better one."