Lesbian log zero-three-zero-three-twenty-one
Nothing has changed this week. I still know my time with my kids is dwindling down—like watching the last streams of sand empty from the hour glass—but over the last few days, I’ve tried hard to look at my experience from a place of abundance and stop dwelling in a space of loss.
When I cowrote my book Life: Living in Fulfillment Every Day, I recognized the value and power in perception. In fact, it was one of our cardinal codes of conduct for a happy life. First, you needed to be aware of your current situation and if you were unhappy, you needed to decide what you were going to do about it. Recognizing that there are times when you can’t physically do anything to change your situation, at least in that moment, it’s important to realize you do have the power to change your perception, or how you view your current situation. The final goal post for living a happy life, however, is to take calculated baby steps (or big sweeping action) toward change.
I can’t change my current situation—unless, I was willing to try to forget the fact I am indeed a lesbian and attempt to fit back into my old shoes and my old life. Since that would be horribly uncomfortable now and feel utterly wrong, my choice is to forge ahead. But I forge ahead knowing that despite the potential for happiness this path may provide for me, it has historically lead to some pretty shitty downward spirals and some crappy outcomes—shortening my time with kids being one of them (having to shovel a long-ass driveway full of snow, another).
But since I am unwilling to change my course, I need to accept where I am and choose a new perspective. Yes, my time with my kids is limited and finite, but I can alter my world view and be happy with the time I have now. I need to stop seeing things from the trough of loss, which fuels heartache and keeps me trapped in a loop of misery, and instead look at the time I have left and see the gift in that. By changing my perspective, I can truly enjoy every moment I have with my boys, rather than just waiting for and expecting it to end.
I appreciate this approach is easier said than done, and it doesn’t negate the underlying sadness. But living in a place of loss paralyzed me last week. Rather than seeing my boys for their two-week rotating visit, I had to delay their arrival because my mental health was unstable and the perceived loss was soul crushing. Nothing has changed. When summer comes—and with it full-time work schedules—and fall arrives—with its potential of in-person school returning—my boys will not be able to stay here for two weeks at a time. I’ll be lucky to get a day or two visit and sleepover. But dwelling on that hurt both me and them, since we all had to go another week without seeing each other.
So this week, I’ve chosen to try to view my situation a little differently. I’m choosing to focus on loving the time I have with them—purposefully choosing not to put a time limit or expiration date on it. I will attempt to keep my negative thoughts out of my two-week visits and just enjoy their company.
Some days will be easier than others and I’ll still have moments when I falter and dip into a loss mindset, but this week is better. This week I have the strength to change my perspective and alter the way I see things, and perspective is everything.
I’m looking forward to seeing them Friday.
In gratitude,
Marissa xo