Photo – Courtesy of Casa Dresden

• About This Post: Some people turn a blog into a book. We’re turning a book into a blog. The journey from “I do” to “I don’t” is complicated. 16 years ago Ray said “I don’t” and we found ourselves at the crossroad asking, “What now?” Here you’ll find pieces of that journey, shared in a “then and now” fashion, taken from my journal at that time. (Which has been published into a book.) I’m matching posting days with journal entry days (sort of a time-fusion) and focusing on what I hope will offer food for thought in your own life. Whether you do, don’t or might – Ray and I welcome you and hope you’ll come back.

MOVING DAY TREMORS

Journal, March 18, 1994 • “Last night I tore up the copy of  “The Artist’s Way” that Ray gave me. Page by page. I was so methodical. So angry … I didn’t know the woman who could do this. I couldn’t control her. Scribbled “commentaries,” in crayon, on the pages. Things I have been wanting to say to him but haven’t. I shredded the silk I bought on one of my recent artist dates. I was going to make pillows. God, that hurt … But I couldn’t stop. The paint by number kit I’d started, another artist date inspiration, was next. I loved those as a kid. Just tossed it into the garbage! I’m not letting him have any part of my artist self. I am accepting no contributions from him.”

“I packed up all our special love trinkets. The cards. The handmade gifts … Tossed “The Artist’s Way” pages on top … He can take it all with him.”

“When he got home, it upset him to see what I had done. He (more…)

Photo – Courtesy of Casa Dresden

• About This Post: Some people turn a blog into a book. We’re turning a book into a blog. The journey from “I do” to “I don’t” is complicated. 16 years ago Ray said “I don’t” and we found ourselves at the crossroad asking, “What now?” Here you’ll find pieces of that journey, shared in a “then and now” fashion, taken from my journal at that time. (Which has been published into a book.) I’m matching posting days with journal entry days (sort of a time-fusion) and focusing on what I hope will offer food for thought in your own life. Whether you do, don’t or might – Ray and I welcome you and hope you’ll come back.

HOW DARE HE 

Journal, March 6, 1994 • “I’m drinking a cup of valerian tea, hoping I can get back to sleep. Slept for two hours. The terrible burning that’s been in the pit of my stomach for the past couple of days has dissolved into a trembling between my stomach and my heart. The overlapping physical and emotional sensations are very strange. The burning feels like fear boring right through my stomach, while the trembling feels like mini-explosions threatening to shatter my heart. When I try to focus on calming my heart, fear races into a pure rage that merges so rapidly with pain, my heart feels as if it is being physically wrenched from my ribcage. I honestly feel as if it is breaking! Then the rage darts up and catches in my throat, choking me – telling me that I will soon have to find a way to give this anger, this fear a voice.”

2010: This is a tough read. I feel such compassion for the woman who wrote this … and for the man who was the catalyst. I remember this moment so clearly. I was wrestling with unadulterated rage for the first time in my life. I thought it was about Ray and the betrayal but it was about years of stuffing my anger. About my fear to feel it. About keeping busy, maintaining control, and staying one step ahead of situations that could invite it. (Not that I was ever successful.) About depression, unrecognized and expressed through starving my body anytime it (more…)