Friday, September 12, 2008
Yoda and the Moon
The perfect end to a good day. I worked late because I enjoyed the project I was working on as well as the feeling of working hard for the sake of working hard. I listened to Jonathan Goldstein's Wire Tap America on the bus ride home and then did one of my favorite end of summer activities-I took Yoda Moses for an evening walk just as it was getting dark. As Yoda trotted along happily, snorting at the bases of telephone poles, I filled my lungs with the delicious Seattle evening air and smiled to myself. We passed Orthodox Jews returning from Shabbat services and I thought about how nice it was the few times that Robert and I had observed Shabbat. As I walked and continued to enjoy the night I started into a familiar conversation with myself about whether there was a god and could I get away with practicing a religion without really believing. Then I noticed the Moon. It was so bright and beautiful-it deserved my undivided attention. I knew somehow, that moment and moon were meant for me and whether it was a coincidence or proof for the existence of god I didn't really care. I took joy in seeing the moon, listening to Yoda Moses snort along the parking strip and breathing the late Summer air that reminded me of my mother .
Introduction
I have gone through some pretty dramatic changes over the past year and just recently decided to start blogging about my experiences-mostly for my own record but also to potentially connect with others who are similarly situated.
The past year more specifically has been a whirlwind of pain, disappointment, exhilaration, victory, sadness and contentment. After my fifty-one year old mother battled aggressive cancer over a four year time period, she passed away in February. As much as I tried to prepare myself for the reality of losing my mom, when she passed I really wasn't ready. What followed was not sadness and despair as I had initially thought, but intense anger. Anger at the God I was taught to fear and love over twelve years of Catholic school, the God in whom my mother truly believed. Anger at everyone around me. I felt that no one could possibly understand what I had just experienced, and for several months after my mother's death, I was essentially a hermit and stayed home as much as possible filling the mom shaped hole in my heart with Law & Order re-runs and Mexican takeout.
Over three months I quickly gained a significant amount of weight and began to wonder if life was at all worth living. I was working in a civil litigation law firm as a paralegal with a heavy workload and very little job satisfaction. When I found myself searching the Internet for ways to commit suicide one day on my lunch break I realized I had nothing to lose and that I ultimately had two choices: (1) commit suicide-at the time this seemed ideal, because I was experiencing such deep grief over the loss of my mom. But then I started to think about how permanent death is and how I would never know if life really could get better if I took that step. Choice (2) make the drastic changes that would be needed to give me the life I wanted-and that a small part of me still believed was possible. Definitely not as certain as choice (1), but it satisfied the part of me that longed for something more.
I subsequently found a new job at an intellectual property law firm, quit my job at the litigation firm, started Weight Watchers and purchased a package of twelve personal training sessions. Choice (2) involved me taking a serious look at my life and the ways I could change it to look more the way I wanted. I realized for the first time that my choices of how to grieve, of surrendering to my anger, of staying in my job for too long, of laying on the couch and stuffing my face while Watching Law & Order had all contributed to the negative situation I was in. It is probably a sign of my immaturity, but I finally realized what my Catholic school teachers had been trying to teach me for twelve years--that choices have consequences. Not necessarily negative consequences, but consequences all the same. It was quite an existential moment for me.
I won't say that choice (2) has been easy, but it has transformed my life into more of what I wanted. I still watch Law & Order re-runs, but now I watch them at the gym while I run on the treadmill. I love my new job and take pleasure in learning. After four months of arduous workouts with my trainer and days of counting Weight Watchers points, I have lost almost 50lbs and can now run four miles (okay I can jog four miles). And for the first time in a very long time, I am pleased with the shape my life has started to take.
The past year more specifically has been a whirlwind of pain, disappointment, exhilaration, victory, sadness and contentment. After my fifty-one year old mother battled aggressive cancer over a four year time period, she passed away in February. As much as I tried to prepare myself for the reality of losing my mom, when she passed I really wasn't ready. What followed was not sadness and despair as I had initially thought, but intense anger. Anger at the God I was taught to fear and love over twelve years of Catholic school, the God in whom my mother truly believed. Anger at everyone around me. I felt that no one could possibly understand what I had just experienced, and for several months after my mother's death, I was essentially a hermit and stayed home as much as possible filling the mom shaped hole in my heart with Law & Order re-runs and Mexican takeout.
Over three months I quickly gained a significant amount of weight and began to wonder if life was at all worth living. I was working in a civil litigation law firm as a paralegal with a heavy workload and very little job satisfaction. When I found myself searching the Internet for ways to commit suicide one day on my lunch break I realized I had nothing to lose and that I ultimately had two choices: (1) commit suicide-at the time this seemed ideal, because I was experiencing such deep grief over the loss of my mom. But then I started to think about how permanent death is and how I would never know if life really could get better if I took that step. Choice (2) make the drastic changes that would be needed to give me the life I wanted-and that a small part of me still believed was possible. Definitely not as certain as choice (1), but it satisfied the part of me that longed for something more.
I subsequently found a new job at an intellectual property law firm, quit my job at the litigation firm, started Weight Watchers and purchased a package of twelve personal training sessions. Choice (2) involved me taking a serious look at my life and the ways I could change it to look more the way I wanted. I realized for the first time that my choices of how to grieve, of surrendering to my anger, of staying in my job for too long, of laying on the couch and stuffing my face while Watching Law & Order had all contributed to the negative situation I was in. It is probably a sign of my immaturity, but I finally realized what my Catholic school teachers had been trying to teach me for twelve years--that choices have consequences. Not necessarily negative consequences, but consequences all the same. It was quite an existential moment for me.
I won't say that choice (2) has been easy, but it has transformed my life into more of what I wanted. I still watch Law & Order re-runs, but now I watch them at the gym while I run on the treadmill. I love my new job and take pleasure in learning. After four months of arduous workouts with my trainer and days of counting Weight Watchers points, I have lost almost 50lbs and can now run four miles (okay I can jog four miles). And for the first time in a very long time, I am pleased with the shape my life has started to take.
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