I know that all serious pundits and news outlets compile end of the year lists, and I take myself quite serious, so why shouldn't I put together a little list. I haven't spent much time thinking about these...nonetheless, I feel that my list is quite accurate and irrefutable. Can I get a drum roll, please?
Thank you. Here are my big moments for 2011...
Sad News of the Year
Of course, the loss of my father was the saddest event of the year.
Biggest Adjustment of the Year
Living without Andrew on a daily basis. I want to be able to hear his laugh and squeeze him whenever I want.
Best Decision of the Year
The decision to co-parent was a no brainer. I think that these first few months of the divorce have been easier on Andrew because his father and I actively choose to cooperate and to work as a team for Andrew.
Purchase of the Year
The Mini, as if there could be another.
Concert of the Year
I know that many of you might think that the Rochester Castle show will be my choice, but it's not! I choose, instead, the June 11 Squeeze warm-up gig at the Pelton Arms. Small venue, big smile from my singer as I walk in, and the guys blow the roof off the house. That perfomance cannot be topped.
Night of the Year
Monday, April 4 - Evanston, Illinois.
Student Quote of the Year
About an assignment for which students had to find two obituaries, someone said, "So both of them have to be about dead people?"
Road Trip of the Year
London! London! London!
Drink of the Year
Bailey's
Deadly Sin of the Year
This was a close race, but sloth beats out lust, though just barely.
Accomplishment of the Year
Publishing my first short story.
Discovery of the Year
I am stronger and more capable than I had ever believed.
Showing posts with label self awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self awareness. Show all posts
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Light bulb moment
Twenty-four years ago, I set out to study for a year in Paris; it had been a long-time dream of mine. Just before I left, I entered into my first relationship and fell in love with my first boyfriend. The only thing I had wanted more than to go to Paris was to have a boyfriend. My fear of being alone and without a boyfriend completely sabotaged my study abroad experience. I suffered from panic attacks, cried constantly, and finally arranged to go home after 6 weeks. I was embarrassed and sad. And, to be honest, I'm not really sure that, internally, I have ever fully recovered at the shame I felt.
Twenty-four years later, I stand on the edge of divorce, the polar opposite of being in one's first relationship, though there is a boy at home I love. I find myself in another large European city, this time London. Unlike my Paris experience, I am not living with a family, nor do I have a roommate. I have come here without a traveling companion. I worried for quite some time that 20-year old Toni would emerge from the recesses of my psyche. I thought seriously about canceling the trip. Needless to say, I didn't because I am writing this from a hotel room in London (Camden), listening to the morning songs of delivery trucks and shopkeepers preparing for the day.
Instead of anxiety and fear, I am filled with awe, and contentment. The thought of being here for 10 days on my own is no longer scary. How can that be? During breakfast, I read an article from the October edition of The Sun (yes, I'm a little behind in my reading, but what's new). The article was titled "Simply Being Aware" by Abhishktananda and it struck me as perfect. In this article, he says
I started this journey thinking that I would find myself. As if I were lost. Reading this article over Corn Flakes this morning, I realized that things can be much easier than I make them. I'm not lost, no matter how poetic it sounds. I just have to open my arms and welcome myself to my own existence. For this moment, my life is in this little hotel room and a week from today it will be in Windsor. I must remember that I am in the driver's seat and set the pace. If I don't like the direction, it's my job to turn the wheel.
Twenty-four years later, I stand on the edge of divorce, the polar opposite of being in one's first relationship, though there is a boy at home I love. I find myself in another large European city, this time London. Unlike my Paris experience, I am not living with a family, nor do I have a roommate. I have come here without a traveling companion. I worried for quite some time that 20-year old Toni would emerge from the recesses of my psyche. I thought seriously about canceling the trip. Needless to say, I didn't because I am writing this from a hotel room in London (Camden), listening to the morning songs of delivery trucks and shopkeepers preparing for the day.
Instead of anxiety and fear, I am filled with awe, and contentment. The thought of being here for 10 days on my own is no longer scary. How can that be? During breakfast, I read an article from the October edition of The Sun (yes, I'm a little behind in my reading, but what's new). The article was titled "Simply Being Aware" by Abhishktananda and it struck me as perfect. In this article, he says
The mind...realizes more and more its inability to say "I am this or that; I am this person or that person." For in the very moment at which the thought appears that I am this or that, this person or that person, then the manifistation with which I have automatically tried to identify myself in the flow of consciousness has fled away from me - but I continue...."I am," and there is no need for me to strive in order to find this "I am." I am not an "I" searching for itself.
I started this journey thinking that I would find myself. As if I were lost. Reading this article over Corn Flakes this morning, I realized that things can be much easier than I make them. I'm not lost, no matter how poetic it sounds. I just have to open my arms and welcome myself to my own existence. For this moment, my life is in this little hotel room and a week from today it will be in Windsor. I must remember that I am in the driver's seat and set the pace. If I don't like the direction, it's my job to turn the wheel.
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