Good morning. Yes, morning came. It snowed last night, about two inches, which is beautiful and soothing.
Today, I'm looking at what it means to be ambulatory. I pulled myself out of bed this morning at 8 because while all I wanted to do was hide and sleep and sleep, there is a part of me that says, "Well, that's just ridiculous. You still have things to do even if you are heartbroken."
I looked at myself a little quizzically this morning. Really? Not even one morning's indulgence of lie in and cry? I suppose I've done enough crying in the last two weeks to fill the tear bank. Does anyone know the story of Tear Water Tea? I filled my pot.
I don't feel like it would be healthy to say, "Well, whatever!" and get on with it, that's not the place I'm in right now. I feel all of this in all the cells of my body, and the tears still come before I even realize I'm crying.
But I think that's just part of experiencing life. It hurts when love ends. The one feeling that I'm looking forward to having end is not the sadness, or the loss, I know those will move through me over time, and it will take a while, as this love was a big love, a sustaining, nourishing love, and its not just one person, there were four people that I loved, and love deeply, and now we need to shuffle those feelings, re organize them.
The feeling that I'm not super excited about is that since Tuesday, I've been feeling feint. My hands are shaky, and sweaty, I'm a little nauseous, my heart thumps in my chest, and I have to sit down. I'm really dizzy, like you feel right when you come to after passing out. I'm not able to eat much, although I'm aware that I need to eat, the only things that I feel okay about putting in my body are grapes and tea right now. This is probably contributing.
I talked to the school counselor today, and Bodhi is not doing well. He is crying and having anxiety. Bodhi, who feels like he grows out of my heart, is hurting. I'm not there to hold him in my arms, he's not here to crawl into my lap. This makes me feel desperately sad, although my mom is on her way and will be there tomorrow night, and she feels a lot like me, so I hope this will help him.
I know that I have to push through here, because I'm here, on the brink of having a career that pays me enough to take care of my kids and live a life that feels fulfilling. I know that I need to have Bodhi and Ethan by my side, and I know that I can't do that from Montana. I just don't make enough money, and there is no room to grow in my career.
On another note, I went out one last time on Tuesday night and had a couple of beers with my friends, (they were trying to cheer me up the night the story changed again), and effectively marking the end of the "celebration" era as I enter training and put aside anything that might distract from me honing my skills this year. I expected to not feel so good the next day, but I'm realizing that I don't think it was the beer at the Belly Up so much as I think my heart is taxed to its max.
And I did have the thought that I might go get it checked out at the Dr's office today, but while I think that what I really need is a break from the stress, I also know that I have landed here in the arms of my Aspen family, and that I have a job to do. I need to continue walking, one foot in front of the other, because the most important thing is that I'm ready when my kids can come. I'm established in my new place, I'm making enough money to buy groceries, and I'm clear in my head. And I can't do any of those things laying around in a bed feeling sorry for myself.
This morning, Rebecca, who manages the ranch, came over, and I paid my rent (thanks for buying the secretaries, Uncle Charlie and Auntie Annie), and signed my lease. She gave me the most wonderful hug, and told me my favorite fable of the Chinese Farmer. I've posted it here several times, you remember it, Good Luck, Bad Luck? I smiled at her. "This is what I tell people!"
"Yes, Kate, and this morning, I get to tell it to you. Here is your fable, hold it in your heart, take the good that came from this beautiful family you got to experience over the summer, and let it soothe you. Find the gift and keep walking." And she's right.
So I'm breathing. I'm getting dressed. I'm printing out pages on how to change a starter in a 93 Ford Bronco, because my truck won't start unless I hit the sellanoid with a hammer. (Yeah, last night I drove to Glennwood Springs again and bought a rebuilt one. And had that wonderful panic-y moment when my check wouldn't go through because of a hold on the deposit... now what? I got it solved via ATM at the last second...)
Today I have my first private massage client, a workout on the Vibragym at the Aspen Club, and laundry. And while I do laundry, I'm going to write a story for Ethan, which I'll read to him on Skype tonight.
1 comment:
Maybe it will make you feel a tiny bit better to know that I'm giving my short talk about you tonight. It's written, and while basic, I think it will convey my message - that there are ways to take this sport, or really anything else that matters, to the limit of your faith in yourself.
Take it easy, Kate. Stress is an insidious thing, creepsand creeps until it races. I know - yours has been racing anyway, so take care of yourself.
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