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Sunday, March 12, 2017

Quiet Simplicity and Solitude

It is spring break, and we're under a winter weather advisory. Snow. The white fluff is supposed to start later this evening and continue into tomorrow. Several inches, they're saying. Winter's way of shouting, "Hey, hold on a minute. I have eight more days. Then Spring can have her way." I'm secretly hoping Winter stays north of us, smoothing her white blanket over Wisconsin and Michigan. 

Today I finally found the courage to tell my husband I have decided to find a place of my own. I'd been rehearsing the talk in my head for the past few days, but like usual, I went off script fairly quickly. I didn't quite know how he was going to respond. I thought maybe he would get angry as that has been his MO when I offer up how his behavior has harmed our relationship. This time, he remained calm. He suggested he understood how I was feeling. He went on to say he doesn't want me to leave, but he does understand. Later, after Angel Baby and I returned from a run to the store for milk and eggs, I found a card on my keyboard. Inside the card, my husband had written an apology note, saying again he does not want me to leave.

I've realized over the past few years that I crave being alone. When I think about being in a space that is mine, just me and Ado, I feel a longing grip me. I desire nothing more than to create a home free of tension and full of calm. I know I will never get this if I stay here. I read recently how in the Hindu tradition the life of a human being is broken into four 25 year periods. I am in the vanaprastha period, which is, as one writer put it, about "quiet simplicity" and going into a life of solitude after completing the duties associated with maintaining a household. Quiet Simplicity and Solitude pull at me now as if they are puppies yanking on my pant legs.

Today, as Ado and I walked a path next to a drainage ditch, I thought about how embarrassing it is to be that person with yet another marriage not working out. Angel Baby told me recently my failed relationships are because I'm not the marrying type; I'm too independent. Lovely Beautiful Daughter said it's because I don't want to stop taking advantage of the world. I love them both for their take on the situation. Soothes my bruised ego a bit.

For now, with everything out in the open, I'm feeling better. More optimistic. And even if we do get the six inches of snow they're saying we're going to get, I'm won't hide from it. Rather, perhaps I'll actually get that one cross-country skiing expedition in for the season. 

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