Planting New Seeds
In the interest of my sanity, and a bit of transparency, this little blog is kind of an announcement. An announcement mixed with, I’d feel weird if I didn’t mention it. I’ve learned over the years that I’m not much for keeping secrets. And I’m definitely not interested in the shame that accompanies silence, it never serves the soul to hide.
With that.
I am getting divorced. I have told a few people already, and think it’s appropriate to share, because … it’s real life. If I can post about a dog birthday party, a random walk, and my deep love of the marigolds and zinnias I plant in the front yard with my youngest child, this feels like something of note. Somehow it’s not a big deal, and it’s a really huge deal—all at once. Just like raising kids, you never really know where a path is leading until you find yourself at a destination. Planned or unplanned, there are diversions to most dreams. Edits. Dare I say it … pivots.
Some might say the hits keep coming. But I disagree. This is a good thing. A REALLY good thing. Scary AF, but full of promise. Covid brought our little family absolute chaos (in this we are not alone). There were job losses and changes, enormous amounts of stress, almost total isolation, abject fear, and much sadness. But it also gifted us the opportunity to donate $50K to food charities in 36 states. We were able to work together to keep my parents comfortable and fed without sending them to stores and on unnecessary errands. And I turned 50 in the presence of people who fully see and support me. I celebrated five marvelous decades with new friends who I managed to meet within a crazy bubble of chaos, side by side with dear friends that have known me for years, and with family who have loved me my entire life. Not everyone gets to share this much of their life with their parents. I know I am LUCKY.
So, I’m choosing to call this a good year. Someday you can “buy the book,” or tune into my TED Talk. But for now, just know if you too are living in a new space, or starting a new dream—you are not alone. I do not feel awkward sharing my dumpster fire. Because it’s not much of a dumpster fire at all. It’s part of me. And who knows, if the flames do rise, they can help keep me and my kids warm during the winter nights ahead. For me it’s important to remember that fire can also help illuminate a path.
Big hugs to all who made it this far. Adulting is … a lot.
