"...life may be best measured in tastes rather than meals, in minutes rather than lifetimes..."
I read this in a Yoga International article today while hanging out with children at a bookstore.
I am seeking out the tastes and reveling in the minutes right now - it's all I can do.
My relationship has taken a drastic turn, we have created our demise somewhere along the way...setting it up, and in turn ourselves, to fail.
I feel as if I have too much going on in my life right now to mourn. I have two children who have been unfairly marginalized while my attention and most of my free time went to my relationship. I have an amazing job that I love, that inspires and challenges me daily. And most recently, I have begun planning my re-entry into academia.
So I mourn in tastes, I cry in minutes because I still believe my life is golden - I have been moved from my center by the demands of a relationship that ultimately broke my heart with my spirit.
I thought she was my future...thought she was the rocking chair beside mine on the porch of our later life, the mother of our 'one day' child, the home and haven for my fears, dreams, hopes, loves and wonders...I thought she was the end of my search.
I listened to a Jason Mraz song earlier..."Plane" and he sings with such a love, an adoration for the woman he sings for...it hit me last night, as she screamed at me, face red from fury, she doesn't even like me.
This realization is the only thing I have right now as my bulwark.
So I walk with my children and talk with my children, finding pockets - pockets of peace, pockets of pain...pockets of experience so that it all becomes manageable until I can stand again.
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