Tuesday, October 14, 2008


The only way to get out of whatever it is I’m doing is to get through it. I don’t like it. I want a trap door.

My husband and I were both at home today together, which was alternately lovely and infuriating. I have such thin patience for any behavior that is even slightly addicty. It’s not just with him. It’s with anyone. I don’t have patience with my dog if she’s being willfully obstinate, needy, or petulant.

One of the things I’m noticing that’s different about me in my recovery is that lately, I am really aware of the things I run from. If I’m resisting something, I figure that there must be a reason why I am struggling around it, and it’s probably what I need. I figure that on the other side of my resistance is a door to a bigger, more beautiful life. For instance, there was that yoga pose I used to hate, ardha chadrasana. I hated the shakiness, the vulnerability…the exposure. But now, I have fallen in love with this pose. I’m stronger now, and my balance is better. I fall out of it sometimes, but most of the time, I stick it, and it feels great. It feels like I’m taking up as much space as I possibly can with my body, spreading myself out all over the world as big as I can ever be. I think of myself like a star, or like a sun, and I shine and shine.

But I used to hate it, and I'd run from it. I'm running, now, from my marriage, and I'm not sure if I need to keep persevering, keep sticking, and see what's on the other side...or if the healthy thing is to run and never look back.