I
 haven’t written about The Runner lately. I told myself that is because 
everything is going so well - which it is. Yet I’ve noticed my anxiety 
increasing incrementally over the last 2 weeks. I told myself it was 
from a variety of sources - work, Stella, general life upkeep.  But it 
finally caught up with me last night - I’m scared.  Really scared.The
 vulnerability from my developing feelings for The Runner is growing at a
 fast pace.  In simpler terms, I really really like him. He is amazing, 
inside and out. And each day he says something that amazes me even more.
 He has a unique humanistic take on daily experiences that others would 
take for granted. Noticing and appreciating small things that others 
would easily overlook.  This
 week he was sick, as was I.  We talked on the phone each night, and 
each night he relayed his daily stories, pointing out the interesting, 
sweet or rarely appreciated moments that would go unnoticed to most.  As
 each day passed I felt more and more lucky to be spending time with 
him. And as each day passed that we weren’t spending time together in 
person (as it was all via phone), I became more and more insecure that 
he would realize that his life is just dandy without me and would become
 uninterested.This
 anxiety continued to build until last night when I was distant while on
 the phone with him. Not because I was disappointed that he was still 
sick and we couldn’t hang out (which I was) but because I was scared 
that he was going to disappear.  People keep saying to me that a person 
does not just stop liking someone else and bounce. But my perception of 
the end of my marriage is just that. He stopped liking me and bounced. 
 Even after months and months of work to rebuild my confidence in 
myself, I still have the pangs of wondering if there is something 
terribly wrong with me that will turn everyone who comes into my life 
off at some point and they will bounce.  Was this week’s illness just 
the opening that The Runner needed to realize that he was tired of me 
and ready to hit the road?During
 our conversation last night, he provided the right reassurances at the 
right time. And after we hung up, I thought about why I was so distant 
on the call and realized it was just my fear and that without being 
asked, he made me feel comfortable and secure that he was still there. 
So I called him back and thanked him for that. We talked about why I was
 scared and he compared it to a race car driver getting in a car 
accident - he doesn’t drive the same the first time out after the 
accident, he needs time to be comfortable again.The
 Runner’s understanding, patience and most of all lack of judgement was 
very touching.  We talked a bit more and hung up. At which point I broke
 down crying. And cried. And cried. The sharp pain of fear, fear of that
 he will leave, fear that there really is something wrong with me, fear 
that I will never find lasting joy and contentment, fear that I’ll self 
sabotage anything good in my life.  I cried for the fact that the pain 
was so pointed, even after all of this time.  And that though I thought I
 was through the worst effects of the divorce, I’m still faced with the 
consequences.With her usual impeccable timing, Little Buddha sent this to me earlier this week. Very fitting.
THE DREAM OF CONSTANT OKAYNESS
It’s
 not impermanence per se, or even knowing we’re going to die, that is 
the cause of our suffering, the Buddha taught. Rather, it’s our 
resistance to the fundamental uncertainty of our situation. Our 
discomfort arises from all of our efforts to put ground under our feet, 
to realize our dream of constant okayness. When we resist change, it’s 
called suffering. But when we can completely let go and not struggle 
against it, when we can embrace the groundlessness of our situation and 
relax into its dynamic quality, that’s called enlightenment, or 
awakening to our true nature, to our fundamental goodness. Another word for that is freedom—freedom from struggling against the fundamental ambiguity of being human. (From Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change)
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
As
 I continue to read “The Gifts of Imperfection”, from Brene Brown, she 
suggests to make a list of what activities/items you consider to 
contribute joy and meaning to your life. And then compare it to your 
to-do list to see if your actual activities align with what you need for
 joy and meaning.  I am not going to share my to-do list as it probably 
looks similar to most other mom’s of a 2 year old. However, I thought 
this would be a good venue to start my ingredients list & I 
encourage you to share your list or even an item or two that you think 
may be missing!-
 Downtime outside: long walks with Grace and our dog, laying in the 
hammock together, eating dinner outside, going to the park, etc- Family adventures: going new places and experiencing new things (both for Grace and I)- Spending time with loved ones, both family and close friends- Stimulating work that provides a sense of accomplishment- Exercise- Music: playing, listening, spontaneous dance parties with Stella and/or friends- Going to church- Helping others
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
I
 finally watched Bill Clinton’s speech from the DNC.  No, this post is not 
about politics since the human experience is shared and common. 
 Instead, this is about the theme he introduced of ‘constant conflict 
versus constructive cooperation’.I’ve
 heard many bitter divorce stories. Three years to finalize a divorce 
with no kids, no contact with kids for weeks on end as nasty custody 
dispute is worked out, shirking from financial responsibility because of
 concern for one’s own bank account rather than the welfare and 
opportunities made available to a child.  I am convinced my divorce was 
one of the quickest and probably easiest, given the situation 
of a 10 week old infant mixed with an extra-marital affair. Breeding 
ground for hatred, for blame, for constant conflict.However,
 in looking to the future, I am convinced that constructive cooperation 
is the only way forward.  I wish the other parting couples would do the 
same. No amount of bitter disagreement will ease the pain. No amount of 
money will be retribution or make a wrong right. It is what it is. So
 as I watch the country struggle over money, disagree over values, and 
spout convincing arguments to pull opinions one way or another, I can 
only hope that as a broader population we see that constant conflict 
will only result in delayed pain and prolonged suspension of angst 
whereas construction cooperation helps to heal and move forward.
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
A
 few days ago, Grace had surgery to put tubes in her ears. The same, 
simple surgery that more than half of my friends’ kids have had. 
 However, because of her PVC (premature ventricular contractions, i.e. 
irregular heart beat that starts in the ventricle), the docs informed me
 that there was a small chance her heart would go into constant 
arrhythmia and stop pumping blood. They also informed me that she needs 
the surgery because she already has hearing loss and speech impairment 
from the fluid that has built up in her ears since January. I started 
involuntarily shaking. How could I make this choice? If something 
happened to Grace, I would never forgive myself. But do I leave her with
 measured hearing loss for an indefinite amount of time?  I fought back 
the tears and went ahead with the surgery.  All the while, feeling like I
 was going to throw up. Wishing I had someone to lean on, someone to 
provide comfort.Right
 before the surgery, I called my mother (Ma). I explained the situation,
 she took a pause and then said that I made a good decision with the 
information that was provided and all I could do was listen to the 
doctors. She was cool, calm and collected as always. A rock.Grace
 came through the surgery with flying colors, though I suffered the 
after affects of nausea and anxiety for a few days. It felt like a 
literal shock went through my system. But there was my mom, as strong as
 ever.I’ve
 lost count of the number of times my mom has been a rock for me. 
Showing no fear, only strength, love and comfort.  Even at our picnic 
for Grace’s 2nd birthday, as a bee was buzzing around, I automatically 
recoiled while my mom grabbed a napkin and pursued the bee to eliminate 
it as a threat to Grace or I. Would I ever have the courage to go after a
 bee?  Unlikely.Just
 yesterday, Ma went to a surgery of a friends son. Her friend had to sit
 through agonizing hours as her sick son was operated on. My mom was 
right there beside her using all of her natural gifts to help her friend
 through a scary time and give her a sense of calm that all would be ok.This
 unwavering strength and compassion is only one of the many reasons that
 I named Grace after my mother. I hope that she learns that special 
blend of strength and compassion that comes so easily to my Ma.
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
          
        
Little Buddha shared this today, how apropos:
 YOUR
 FIXED IDENTITY - In Buddhism we call the notion of a fixed identity 
“ego clinging.” It’s how we try to put solid ground under our feet in an
 ever-shifting world. Meditation practice starts to erode that fixed 
identity. As you sit, you begin to see yourself with more clarity, and 
you notice how attached you are to your opinions about yourself. Often
 the first blow to the fixed identity is precipitated by a crisis. When 
things fall apart in your life, you feel as if your whole world is 
crumbling. But actually it’s your fixed identity that’s crumbling. And 
as Chögyam Trungpa used to tell us, that’s cause for celebration.
 
 
 
            
        
          
        
          
        
I
 went to the beach with my family (mom, dad, dad’s girlfriend, Grace and
 our dog) for a week. It was an episode straight out of Modern Family. 
One thing I learned: family vacations are about spending time with 
family, not having fun!  LOL  It was an ok week but after Grace playtime
 nonstop for 7 straight days, I was ready for my own vacation upon 
returning home.  Exhausting!
Once
 home and unpacked, I met up with The Runner.  A lovely dinner, two games of 
shuffleboard and an episode of Breaking Bad later, I was content and 
smiling.  Somehow The Runner has that effect on me - content. The minute
 he is around, worries melt away and everything seems right with the 
world. We spent the rest of the weekend together until Monday morning 
when the reality of work finally hit for both of us.  
Here
 was the weekend highlight: As we were driving home from New Hope, a 
trendy town further outside of Philadelphia, there was a Little Tikes 
slide being put out by a family no longer needing it. I’ve been 
looking/waiting to buy this slide all summer but haven’t gotten to many 
yard sales as much of my saturday mornings were spent at the beach.  
After mentioning this to the Runner, he promptly hits the brakes, 
pulled a U-turn, hopped out and with tools from his ever present, very 
large tool bag (for work), he disassembled the slide and put it in his 
car.  It was hot. Sweet guy, tools, solving a problem without breaking a
 sweat. I was swooning. When we got home, he quickly reassembled it in 
my backyard and I had to stop myself from gushing “my hero”!  All of 
this and I didn’t even ask him to do it, he just did it upon hearing my 
desire to acquire this slide for my daughter.  Need I say more?
As
 I’m writing this blog post, I’m fighting the urge to share with you all
 of the wonderful attributes that the runner has.  The many ways that 
his solid heart, values and smarts shine through in daily situations. 
 The many ways his flawless runner’s body makes a girl drool :)  But 
I’ll refrain.  For now, I’m still fighting the instant anxiety that 
encroaches the minute something good enters my life. The fear that it is
 not real, will not last and will go away. But rather than waste a good 
feeling by turning it into fear, I’m fighting hard to stay in the 
present and appreciate every content moment, standing quiet and still, 
smiling.