What A Year Has Taught Me

05 Sep 2011 8 Comments

by Shannon McDonough in September 2011 Tags: , , , , , ,

The last photo of us together taken July 31, 2010

It has been a year since my life took an unexpected turn. Since the man I thought would love me forever said those words, ”I don’t want to be in a relationship.” I’ll never forget that moment. I didn’t believe him. Honestly, I still don’t. But he seemed pretty convinced. He took me to the airport, gave me a hug and never looked back. I walked away with my head held high. I was determined to be strong…I wouldn’t let him see me cry. But as soon as I went down the escalator to security, the tears started to flow. Other than two brief email exchanges, we haven’t spoken since. I have missed him every day.

I told myself I would give it six months. Six months to hurt and to heal. But six months came and went and still the pain persisted. Apparently you can’t put a time limit on moving on. You just have to live your life and follow where the pain leads you. A lot has happened in the last year. It struck me recently as I realized Labor Day weekend would mark the anniversary of that time in my life, that I have learned so much over the last 365 days. It has not been easy. But it hasn’t been all bad either.

I have often thought about what I would want him to know. What I would say if I had that opportunity. So here is what I would tell him; what the last year has taught me about life, love and being myself.

  • No matter how painful the loss, or how fearful you are of that pain, love is always worth the risk. ALWAYS. Even in my darkest hour, and there have been many, I never had regrets. Before our relationship, I had never experienced such a deep knowing, a sense that we were meant to be together. And that everything we’d experienced in our lives had led us to each other. As difficult as this has been, I would do it all over again, given the chance at that kind of love.
  • Loving you gave me a kind of courage I’d never known before. I’m not saying there wasn’t fear and trepidation. You know how many times I ‘pumped the brakes’. It’s just that loving and being loved so deeply, helped me push past my fear. The decision to move away from my friends, my family and the only life I’d every known was huge for me. But it paled in comparison to the thought of living without you. And as a result, I don’t have that same fear of moving now. In fact, the thought of it excites me more than anything. I look forward to the adventure someday.
  • I learned to step outside my comfort zone and take a new job even though I’d been with the same company for more than 11 years. After you broke up with me I kept thinking, “Why would you walk away? Don’t you realize life is short and you have to live it right now?” And then it hit me! I was doing the same thing with my job. Playing it safe. Doing something I really didn’t like, but not leaving because I was afraid it wouldn’t work out. So, I took a leap of faith, got a new job in a completely different industry, have met some terrific people and learned so much about myself in the process.
  • I realized I wasn’t spending my time doing the things I truly love and that make my heart sing. I had wanted to write a blog for a long time. I really enjoy writing. There’s just something about conveying my thoughts and feelings through words that amazes me even as I’m doing it. So I started blogging and have been jotting down ideas for a book. I am also working toward getting training to become a life coach. I look at my life and the choices I make now more in terms of how I really want to spend my time and what’s really important to me.
  • I’m stronger than I realized. When I left that day I had no idea we wouldn’t see each other or talk again. I really still thought it would all work out. Ever the optimist. But it hasn’t worked out the way I thought and dealing with that loss has been a day by day experience. I have felt the feelings as they come, but I don’t let them consume me. If I can get through the pain of losing you, and come out with more peace and clarity of purpose on the other side, I can get through anything.  There have definitely been some dark times. Some moments where I didn’t know if I could keep going. But I did. And I do.
  • I learned what it feels like to love deeply and truly…without limits. I loved you to the depths of my soul. Until you, I had never loved anyone that unconditionally other than my children. I had hoped it was possible, but I had never experienced it. Now I know that deep, “I will love you until the end of time” kind of love does exist for me. And it doesn’t go away just because you’re not with that person. Love that deep and true spans time, distance and circumstances. I would never settle for anything less again.
  • I learned I don’t have to try so hard; that I’m fine the way I am. I like that I’m introspective, love to read and figure things out. I’m not a morning person or a neat freak and that’s okay. Better than okay. It’s who I am and I wouldn’t change it. I’m neurotic, I worry too much, I wear my heart on my sleeve. I can’t take a hint or read between the lines. I think a lot and often over-analyze things. This is who I am…I make no excuses. There really is beauty in imperfection. I didn’t believe it at first, but I’ve come to realize it’s true.
  • I learned I needed to be alone, to not have someone to ‘take care of’ right now. Because it allowed me to see what I really want my life to look like. As painful as this has been, I needed to figure it out on my own. Oddly, I am grateful for the pain. It has been a doorway to finding my purpose in life. You gave me a great gift by walking away. And though it wasn’t what I would’ve chosen, and I still miss you so much, I don’t believe I would’ve discovered these things about myself in any other way.
  • I was reminded how much I enjoy cooking. Cooking feels like something I do for the people I love. It makes me feel like family. After 15 years of having to cook for someone who didn’t appreciate it when I was married, I had forgotten how much pleasure there is in cooking just for the joy of it. This last year I’ve spent more time in the kitchen, trying new recipes and spending time around the dinner table with friends and family. And you were right. Life really is easier with a good skillet. I am reminded of that every time I use the one you bought me.
  • I learned you can love someone even though their actions have caused you pain. It’s true you don’t have to feel things so acutely when you put up that wall of anger and blame and play the victim. But it doesn’t make things easier. The pain is still there. You can love someone for the person you know them to be; underneath their fear, shame and nagging sense of unworthiness. I understand those feelings. Because I fight my own battles with those very same things. It gives me compassion. You can love someone and not be with them.
  • I realized that life is good right here, right now. No matter what is going on I always have something to be grateful for. When I say something funny and Kyle actually laughs. When a friend calls for a spur of the moment barbeque. When I find myself in a great conversation or enjoying a lazy afternoon. When I make time for a walk outside in the middle of the work day. I’m living my life more in each moment than in the future or the past. I hope you know what that’s like.

Even though we’re not together, I am grateful for the time we had. I will always cherish those memories. Loving you has taught me so much about myself. I got to see the things that still need work, like communication and feeling not good enough. And the things I’m proud of, like how much I care about people and how deeply I am capable of loving. And all the things in between that are often less than perfect, but make up the incredible imperfect me. Loving you made me want to be a better person. Not just for you or for us, but for me.

I hope you have learned something this last year too…about yourself, about life, about love. That you realize with all your strengths and all your faults, you are worthy of love. You are sweet, kind, dorky, stubborn, opinionated, loving, funny, smart, messy, strong, fearful, open, withdrawn, introspective, protective, negative, handy, and so much more. You can be both the sweetest man and the biggest pain in the ass. But I hope you realize, as I have, that there’s nothing wrong with you. I still have my fears and insecurities…my feelings of not good enough. That’s just part of being human. But I learned, through this experience, I still deserve to be loved. I hope you learned that too.

Closure…It’s Not What You Think It Is

16 Aug 2011 Leave a comment

by Shannon McDonough in August 2011 Tags: , , , , , ,

Clo·sure Webster’s dictionary defines closure as : an often comforting or satisfying sense of finality <victims needing closure>; also : something (as a satisfying ending) that provides such a sense. Dictionary.com describes it as a bringing to an end; conclusion. But I call bullshit! This has not been my experience. When you lose someone you love; due to death, divorce, a break up, there’s nothing satisfying about it. And there’s certainly no conclusion. Maybe the hope of getting closure someday keeps us going when we might otherwise give up. I suppose that’s a good thing. But I don’t think closure exists…at least not the way most of us look at it.

I’ve been thinking about closure alot these last months. Ever since the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with walked away and my heart was broken beyond words. The ‘solution’ I am often presented with is closure. Well-meaning friends and family members often say, “You just need closure.” Or, they’ll tell me something negative about him saying, “Maybe this will help you get closure.” Apparently, no matter what the circumstance or how deep the pain, all you need to do is get closure and that matter will be behind you forever. They make it sound so easy. It’s not.

Most days come and go without tears, but not without thoughts of him. I get up, I go to work, I live my life. But then something out of the blue sparks a memory. I hear a song, or a line in a movie and the pain comes flooding back. Before I know it I am consumed by the longing to see him again, to hear his voice, to touch his sweet face. Often those journeys into darkness are completely unexpected. The other day I picked up a book off my shelf thinking I’d sit down and read for a while. Inside the front cover was a folded piece of paper. I opened to it find a print out of an email from him professing he would love and adore me forever. He didn’t. And just reading those words all these months later brought back the pain of him leaving as if it were yesterday.

There are also times when it’s a funny memory. I was at the grocery store recently and suddenly felt the urge to start drumming. You can imagine my confusion since I am not, nor have I ever been, a drummer. It took a minute, but then I realized the song playing ovehead was also on the video game Rock Band. We used to play that game until the wee hours of the morning. We had our own ‘band’ and we were on ‘tour’. He was the guitarist, of course, and I was the drummer. I wasn’t very good at it, but we had alot fun! It was our thing…something we did together nearly every time I visited. I laughed out loud in the aisle when it hit me.

And then there are the times when I wonder if the Universe is messing with me. Has that ever happened to you? I was driving through Eatonville the other day. This is the town where we met…were we went to high school together. I have to drive through town on my way to my parent’s house. He was already on my mind as he often is when I drive past the high school. As I was sitting at the four-way stop in the middle of town, I looked up and realized the car in front of me had Virginia license plates. That is where he lives and where I was going to move. Virginia is where we were going to build a life together. I just looked up to the sky and sighed. Really? There are 49 other states; why Virginia plates? What does that mean? Or is it just a random coincidence? I still don’t know what it means, but don’t believe in coincidences.

To be honest I was starting to think something was wrong with me that I couldn’t get to that ever-illusive state of closure. I felt like people wanted me to get over it already and move on. Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough. Then my mom loaned me Jerry Sittser’s book, “A Grace Disguised.” It’s the story of a man who lost his mother, his wife, and his daughter in one fateful car crash. He talks about loss in such an honest, real way. And reading his story reminded me that while my life goes on, and so does yours, it will never be the same. You can’t go back. Losing someone you love leaves a hole in your heart that nothing else can fill. That’s not to say you won’t be happy again. But you’ll never stop missing them; they will always be a part of you.

I have to admit I still get angry sometimes when people tell me I need closure. As if that’s the magic pill that will make my heart stop hurting; the memories stop flooding back at the slightest provocation; the longing to see him again fade away. I just don’t think closure is the right word. I think the word we’re looking for is acceptance. You can accept the fact your loved one is gone. But that doesn’t mean you forget them. And I don’t think you should. The memories will always be there; some sad, some happy, some just downright weird. But I think acceptance brings peace…a little at a time.

So here’s my advice on loss. You can take it or leave it. It’s your choice. Let yourself feel the pain. Remember that person as often as you want and cry or smile or both. Don’t fight those feelings because you think you shouldn’t have them. This is not about wallowing or feeling sorry for yourself; though you may feel that way at times. This is about being real. The experiences of your life are as much a part of you as your fingers and toes. The pain will come and go. There is no closure; no magic moment; no satisfy ending; no conclusion. The person you love will always be with you; in your thoughts, your mind, your heart. Life is a story that goes on and on. And they will always be a part of it.

“Even the saddest things can become, once we have made peace with them, a source of wisdom and strength for the journey that still lies ahead.” ~Frederick Buechner

A Life Well Lived; Knowing What Matters

09 Aug 2011 5 Comments

by Shannon McDonough in August 2011 Tags: , , , , ,

Grandma and me - July 2011

Recently life was put in perspective for me. Sometimes I need that smack upside my head to remind me of what’s really important. I touched on this in my last post. How I go along from day to day rushing here, doing that. Not enjoying life, but not stopping to ask myself if this is really how I want things to go down. It’s like I’m on a carnival ride after I’ve had too much cotton candy and funnel cake. I feel like I could puke, but the ride just won’t stop.

I don’t remember the last time I saw my paternal grandmother. If I had to guess I’d say it’s been several years at least. I was out of town for her 90th birthday almost two years ago. I called her and she assured me she was going to make it to 100 so I didn’t feel any real urgency to make time for her. And even though I’ve been to my parent’s house, which is the property right next to my grandma’s, I haven’t taken the time or made the effort to see her. I didn’t really think much about it.

Sure, I’ve spoken to her on the phone; on her birthday and mine. I’ve sent her cards on Mother’s Day, Easter, Christmas. Sent her pictures of my kids. But I haven’t made the time to sit with her, to hold her hand, to show her I love her. Time is a precious gift I’ve given far too little of. In the last few years I’ve told myself I’m too busy. My reasons, also known as excuses, are numerous and varied. I have too much to do, it’s such a long drive, it will be uncomfortable, what will we talk about? When I read those words now, they sound ridiculous, but they seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.

Then my sister mentioned my grandma hadn’t been well; that she’d been hospitalized a couple times. For what, I’m not sure. Old people stuff, I guess. So I thought it was probably a good idea to go see her when I got a message from my aunt; my dad’s sister. It’s normally hard for me to take her too seriously. She’s always been a little on the ‘chicken little, the sky is falling’ side. I’m guessing she made the phone call because she was mad at my parents for not telling us kids that grandma had one foot in the grave. She likes to be the bearer of bad news. The message actually said if I couldn’t make it to see her, there would be a funeral. Like I want to see her at her funeral? Not so much!

Since I know my aunt tends to be overly dramatic, I checked with my mom to get the scoop. And sure enough, my grandmother had been to the hospital. No diagnosis…just that she was getting old and her body was wearing out. And for the first time, I realized my time with her was limited. So I decided to make the loooooooooooong drive when I had toooooooooooo much to do (did I seriously buy that crap in the past?) so I could see my grandma. My excuses didn’t hold much water anymore.

She was taking a nap so her caregiver, Annamae, had to wake her up, but this is the best part. Once she could focus her eyes and realize who I was (bear in mind it had been a while since she’d me and she wasn’t expecting me) she got the sweetest look on her face. You know that look little kids get when you surprise them with something totally unexpected? That was the look. Her eyes got big and she took in a breath of surprise. Then said my name like she could hardly believe it was me. I can still see that moment in my mind and it’s something I’ll always treasure. Those are the times in life you wish you could bottle up and keep forever. It still makes me tear up when I think about it.

We sat with my mom and Annamae and talked and joked. My grandma still has a great sense of humor. She asked about my kids and when I looked on the wall behind her bed, there was the last picture of them I had sent her. She remembers everything! We watched the hummingbirds in the flowers outside her window. She looked a little sad when she talked about not being able to get outside and keep the yard up. Most of us complain about doing yardwork…myself included. But it’s one of the things she misses.

She said she’s had a great life and reminded me she still plans to make it to 100. She joked about not being a spring chicken anymore and we all laughed about that. She told me how lucky she is to have such a loving family. And even though my dad just turned 70, she still calls him Billy. I guess your child is your child no matter how old they get. She’s led a simple, yet full life. Not punctuated by successes and achievements. She has never had very much in the way of material possessions. She doesn’t value the things we all seem to be striving for. She knows what really matters. I guess you don’t get to be 91 without learning a thing or two about life.

But the most poignant moment was when she leaned over, held my hand and said, “Life goes by so fast.” I’m fairly certain she did not expect these last 90 plus years to fly by the way they have. I am in shock at how fast the last 44 have gone for me. And while I’d love to say I’ve completely changed and now only spend my time on things that have great meaning for me, that would not be true. But I do notice, when I catch myself rushing and trying to accomplish more in less time and sacrificing time with those I love, I hear her voice in my head saying, “life goes by so fast.” And then I stop and breath and try to focus on what matters.

Because at some point in the future, probably in the blink of an eye, I’m going to be at the end of the road. I don’t want to look back and wish I’d done it differently. I try to remind myself everything that needs to get done, gets done. And the other stuff doesn’t really matter. A life well lived comes in doing it my own way…whatever that looks like for me. Whatever that looks like for you. So when the shoulds, the musts and the have to’s are banging at your door, try to remember what my grandma said. It all goes by so fast. And you get to decide what matters.

Stop the World, I Want to Get Off!

29 Jul 2011 2 Comments

by Shannon McDonough in July 2011 Tags: , , , , , , ,

I want to start off this post with an apology. When I started this blog, my intention was to be more authentic and real and to share that journey with you. Well, I haven’t done much sharing lately and for that, I’m sorry. Not that there hasn’t been anything to share. I just haven’t made it a priority to sit down and write…and that has been weighing on me. This might be hard for some to understand; it sounds strange even to me. But when something wants to be written, it will nag at me until I make the time to get it down on paper. So I’m back and I’m hoping to make this a regular gig again. Because, frankly, I have a lot to say and I love to write. And also, because I just can’t take the nagging inside my own head.

When I say, “Stop the world”, it’s not the world I’m actually talking about. It’s my world…the world I’ve created for myself. The world itself is moving along at its own pace with or without me; I have no control over that. What I do have control of is what my life looks like. The speed of my life is a direct result of the choices I make. I get to choose whether or not to put all my energy into things that don’t really matter to me. Or force myself to keep going when I’m tired. Or not make time for the people and things I enjoy. I tell myself “I have to”, but that’s not really true. Everything is a choice. I can choose to make the things that are important to me, a priority. Let’s just say, I haven’t been very good at that lately.

As a society we put so much more focus on doing than being. How much can we accomplish? What more can we cross off our ‘to do’ list? It’s almost a badge of honor to forego sleep in the quest to accomplish more. If you’re tired, don’t listen to your body and rest…that would be ridiculous! Just have another cup of coffee or an energy drink and you’ll be focused and productive for hours. Even our time off is filled with doing. What’s the first thing someone asks you on Monday morning? “What did you do this weekend?” So you rattle off all the things you checked off your list or the activities you participated in. I’ll admit I have never felt comfortable saying, “I just laid around all weekend and did nothing!”

As much as I say I want more time to just be, I often allow myself to get sucked into thinking I have to work more just to keep up. Every day I’m pushing myself to stay focused, stay on task. Get it all done and then some. Last week it occurred to me I couldn’t remember the last time I hung out with my friends. Or enjoyed time with my kids. Or watched TV because I wanted to, not just to veg out after a long and stressful day. It occurred to me I didn’t know what was going on in the world because I hadn’t watched or read the news in…well, I don’t know how long. I couldn’t recall the last time I meditated…something that, not so long ago, was a daily practice for me. You know it’s been a long time when you can’t remember how long it’s been. This is not how I want to live my life.

I recently finished a book I’d been reading for quite a while. I renewed it at the library the maximum number of times and it was still overdue when I turned it in. But I’m glad I finally finished it. The book is called, Unfinished Business: one man’s extraordinary year of trying to do the right things. It’s about a workaholic in his mid-fifties who suddenly lost his job and realized he’d become disconnected from all the people who matter in his life. So he took the next year to reconnect and make things right. More than tying up lose ends, he discovered how much these connections enhance his life. And reminds us all to stay focused on what’s really important.

Little by little, I’m learning to make choices not based on what I think I ‘should’ do, but by asking myself, “will this matter when I get to the end of my life?” And I’m finding that helps remind me what’s important when I start getting caught up in the madness of more, better, faster.  I also found some great advice on page 137 of Lee Kravitz’s Unfinished Business, “All of us are going to die—some sooner, some later. After you die, what would you like people to say about you? Your answer to that question should guide the way you live.” And while that statement really resonates with me, it’s still difficult advice to follow.

So I’m trying to have more balance…and I’m finding it’s not easy. Here’s the trick. In an environment where the expectation is very high, how can I do my job well without sacrificing the other things that matter to me? When my ‘to do’ list is long and the demands seem endless, how do I make time for meditation and writing and friends and fun? I don’t know the answer to that yet. Most days I feel like if I don’t remain hyper-vigilant at work, something is going to fall through the cracks. In this job, that’s not acceptable. So the only thing I can do is continue to bring myself back to center when I recognize I’ve gone off-course. And hope, each time I fall back into old patterns, I see it sooner than I did the last time.

If Fat Is Not a Feeling, Why Do I Feel Fat?

12 Jun 2011 1 Comment

by Shannon McDonough in June 2011 Tags: , , ,

Yesterday I stepped on the scale. I told myself I wouldn’t. I’m tired of defining myself by that number. But I’d been getting outside more because the weather was better and I was feeling good. And I associate that feeling with being thinner. If I feel good physically, I must’ve lost some weight, right? So instead of just enjoying feeling good, I seem to need to find a reason to justify it.

I’m ashamed to write about what’s been going on in my head lately. As much as I’d like to say this doesn’t bother me and I’ve worked past all this; that would be a lie. The truth is I’m having a hard time accepting my body as it is right now. I’ve gained some weight. And while I know 10 or 20 or 30 pounds or more doesn’t change the person I am inside, I don’t always feel comfortable in my own skin.

Recently, I was having a really good day. The sun was shining, I had the day off from work, I was getting a lot accomplished and that felt great! So I decided to stop at the mall and try on some jeans. I’ve needed new jeans for a while now and was excited to find a cute pair I could wear with heels. I picked out four pairs and headed for the dressing room. But when I tried them on, none of them fit. They were not cute at all. At least not on me. And in that moment of trying on jeans that didn’t fit, my formerly fantastic day went right in the toilet.

So I find myself waiting on doing a number of things until I lose weight. Shop for clothes, go out with friends, take a vacation, even get my passport photo taken. The truth is I don’t feel very good about myself right now and that pisses me off! I’ve spent the last 30 or so years dieting…always trying to lose weight. After all this time I still have some underlying belief I’ll feel better when I’m thinner. And that’s the part that makes me mad! Because in my heart I know there is no difference in the kind of person I am whether I’m 120 pounds or 170 pounds.

And I know the problem isn’t entirely the weight. Because I’ve been heavier than this and I still got dressed up and went out with my friends and thought I looked hot! And there have been times when I’ve been thinner than this and I’ve felt lousy. So if I have the expectation that losing weight is going to make me feel better about myself, no amount of weight will do the trick. I proved that to myself last time I lost weight. I told myself I’d be thrilled if I could just wear a size 8. When I got to a size 4 and was contemplating what it would take to get to a 2 or even a 0, I knew the weight wasn’t the issue. No amount would be enough.

Not that I feel the need to place blame, but I do feel some of this is societal conditioning. Out of curiosity I looked up my Body Mass Index based on my height and weight. At 5’2” and 160 pounds it says I’m borderline obese. Seriously? Not just overweight, but nearly obese! It also says I would still be considered healthy at 104 pounds. A weight I haven’t seen since high school. But I’m still buying into the notion I need to be thinner. That somehow thinner is better.

I want to not care how I look. I want to feel confident and sexy and amazing no matter what my weight. I want these extra pounds to not bother me. But they do. And I don’t know how to get past that. I don’t know how to accept myself at this weight. Right here. Right now. Because the truth is, I feel better when I look better. And that makes me feel shallow and superficial.

When it comes down to it what I’m really looking for is feeling good about myself at any weight. Frankly I’m just too old to still care about this. Isn’t that one of the benefits of getting older? You get to care less and less about things that don’t really matter. And for the most part in my life, that’s true. But this seems to be one of those areas I haven’t been able to care less about…yet.

So, even though I’m frustrated with this and I’m tired of it being an issue for me, there’s really nothing to do except be with these feelings. Ride them out and see where they take me. This is a post I can’t wrap up neatly at the end with a bow. This is ongoing, like the sequel of a movie. So there will likely be a follow up post at some point when I’ve had some brilliant flash of insight. At least I’m hoping that’s what will happen. But for now, this is where I’m at. I don’t know why I feel this way and I don’t know what to do about it. And maybe there isn’t anything to do, but just be here…as uncomfortable as it is.

A Better Me by McCall Erickson

24 May 2011 Leave a comment

by Shannon McDonough in May 2011 Tags: , , ,

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here. I have alot going on in my head, but not much motivation to get it down in a format I’m willing to share. Not just yet, anyway…

In the meantime, I wanted to introduce you to an amazing young woman. Even though we’ve never met in person, I love McCall…her raw honesty is inspiring. This song really touches me and wanted to share it with you. It’s right in line with my purpose for this blog…to discover who I really am. My favorite line is, “I’m standing here at the end of who I once was, not sure yet of who I will become.” That’s how I feel alot of days. Like I’m living in that unknown space right at the edge of I don’t know what. Sometimes that’s really scary…sometimes it’s exciting.

Today is McCall’s birthday. So, in honor of her sweetness, her openness, her continued willingness to be real, take a listen. I’m sure, like me, you’ll be inspired by her simple, down to earth, living life at the edge message. And if that doesn’t get you…her smile will!

By the way, you can find McCall on Facebook at McCall Erickson: Loving Life At The Edge

Until next time…

Saying No to Something Good

01 May 2011 1 Comment

by Shannon McDonough in May 2011 Tags: , ,

Recently I was given the opportunity to say no to something I really didn’t want to do. I know that seems like a no-brainer, but it was much more difficult than it sounds. The hardest part was in just being honest with myself. There are so many thoughts and beliefs about who I am that I attach to doing…or not doing something. Sometimes I say yes because I don’t have a reason to say no…even when it doesn’t feel right. I agree to things I’m not truly passionate about and I keep doing the same things over and over again. Turns out even good things aren’t good if you don’t really want to do them.

I have participated in the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk for four years. I’m proud of that. It started as something I did one year to support one of my closest friends, Denita. For years she had wanted to so something to honor her mom who had lost her life to breast cancer when Denita was just a teenager. It is a great cause and an amazing, life-changing experience. If you have ever thought about participating, I encourage you to do so. Not only are you raising money and awareness for a great cause, you are also pushing yourself outside your comfort zone. It’s scary to think about the fundraising and the training. But I did it, and so can you. If it’s something you truly want to do.

Those three days were such an amazing experience that first year, I signed up for the next year on the spot. My other close friend Gina joined us, and the training and fundraising turned into something we all did together. It was a way to spend time together, doing something good for others. I’m not sure when things changed for me, but at some point during year three I felt like I was pushing myself to do something I didn’t want to do. I ignored those thoughts and feelings telling myself it would all be worth it during those three amazing days. And it was. There is nothing quite like that feeling of community…of being part of something bigger than yourself.

Year four was again a struggle as I continued to ignore that still, small voice within. I really didn’t want to do the walk, but I committed to it, so I pushed on. I’m sure you probably know there is nothing fun about forcing yourself to do something you really don’t want to do. No matter how great the cause. Year five I opted out. But it was easier to say no because I had a reason. I had decided to sell my house and move across the country. I didn’t even think I’d be living in Seattle when it came time for the walk. Not to mention my focus was on getting my house on the market, not training and fundraising. It felt okay to say no.

In September, when the love of my life walked away and all my plans for the future fell apart, I agreed to do the walk with my friends again. This time in San Diego. We had previously talked about doing the walk in DC after I was settled there, so going to another city, especially sunny San Diego, sounded like a good idea. But looking back, I think my reasons for saying yes had more to do with the pain I was going through and just wanting my life back, than truly wanting to do the walk. There was always that little voice whispering my ear. “I don’t want to do this”, it said. I continued to ignore it. I was grasping for something familiar, comfortable…something that would make me feel okay again. But nothing could take away the pain of a broken heart and I can’t go back to my life the way it was. It will never be the same again. I can only move forward.

Over the last few months, I kept telling myself this is a great cause…I should want to do it. And it has taken a lot of time and introspection to be honest with myself that I really don’t. The walk is in November and I still haven’t completed my personal webpage or sent out a single fundraising note. I was going through the motions of what I ‘should’ be doing, but I had no passion for it. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me…why didn’t I want to do this?

Last Sunday was the breaking point. I got a text from Denita asking me when I was getting my note out and could she hold me accountable? To say I was angry is an understatement…I was pissed! We had talked earlier in the weekend about how I was feeling overwhelmed with work and stuff at home…everything I wasn’t getting to. All I could hear in my head was “I DON’T WANT TO!” Definitely not a whisper this time and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

I don’t want to do the walk. There, I said it. It was hard to admit, but it’s a relief to finally be honest with myself. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders…I can breath again. The hardest part was telling my friends, Denita and Gina. I felt like I had to follow through because I had given them my word. I pride myself in being the kind of person who does what they say they’ll do. And I believed I would be out of integrity if I changed my mind. But I have since realized I was being out of integrity for agreeing to do something I didn’t really want to do in the first place. I don’t want to let anyone down. But in not listening to my own heart, I was letting myself down.

The truth is, I just don’t feel connected to the 3-Day anymore. It’s a great cause, but it’s not MY cause. I still want to do good in this world and I will. But now I’ve realized I need to be more selective about what I choose to spend my time on. And not do something just because I’ve always done it. It’s okay to say no…even to something good. What’s really good for this world is for each of us to do what we’re passionate about. To choose love over obligation. To let go of the ‘shoulds’ in favor of the ‘hell yeahs’. When I find something that makes my heart sing… the thing I just can’t stop talking about…that’s the thing I’ll put my time and energy into. And that’s the thing that will really make a difference! The lesson here is…again and again…always, always, always be true to yourself!

There’s No Recipe for Letting Go

17 Apr 2011 2 Comments

by Shannon McDonough in April 2011 Tags: , , , , ,

Let’s face it…letting go is hard. This is not how I thought things were going to turn out. Don’t get me wrong…I understand I have a great life. Great kids, loving friends, a supportive family. So I feel somewhat guilty when I have moments of wanting it all to be different. Today is one of those days.

Logically it makes sense to let go. But I feel like a three year old being told to take a nap in the middle of a fun-filled day. I don’t want to!  And as much as I know in my head that everything is always working out for my highest good, my heart still hurts. And it’s my heart that’s holding on for dear life.

For more than a year…15 months to be exact…I knew what my future would look like. I had met, or rather reconnected with, the man I thought was the love of my life; my soulmate. I believed to the depths of my soul we would be together forever. I thought he did too. I ‘knew’ no matter what we faced, we would get through it together and come out stronger on the other side. I believed this with every ounce of my being. I was wrong.

It seems he didn’t believe that because it’s over. It’s been over. He’s moved on with someone else and he’s not coming back. That’s the reality. I understand that; I’m not delusional. I get it. But still, I’m holding on. My heart still feels the love we had; the possibility; the hope. My heart still wants him to call and say he made a huge mistake. That I’m the only woman he’s every loved. My heart wants the fairytale back. My head knows that’s not going to happen. Both of us are pissed off!

So now I find myself in this awkward middle place. I feel like I ‘should’ be past it. I know many of the people in my life would be thrilled if I would quit talking about it. But I’m just not there yet. I’m here. We all understand the beginning; when something happens that devastates us and rocks us to our core. The pain is excruciating and we wonder if we’ll ever feel okay again. And we all know what it looks like to get over it and move on. We can see new possibilities and we feel alive again. But I think we put very little focus on the place in between those two. The place I am right now.

The middle is where time seems to stand still. The place between what I wanted to be and what is. Logically I know I ‘should’ move on, but emotionally my heart hasn’t caught up yet. There’s a disconnect. So that’s where I’m sitting…in the middle. And what I’m realizing is there’s a purpose for this place that I would totally miss if I kept making myself wrong for being here. I’m discovering I need this time to be; to think; to contemplate. Often we’re in such a hurry to get through something, we don’t allow ourselves the time to just be with it. The middle is the place where your heart has the time to heal. To feel the sadness. To relive the memories. To be angry. To be grateful. To be.

I can’t force myself to be somewhere I’m not. I’m not through this yet; I haven’t gotten to the other side. And I would be lying to myself if I said I had. But I also feel some pressure to get over it already. And I have to ask myself, what is the appropriate amount of time to get over such a devastating loss? Is there such a thing? Is there a chart out there somewhere that says it takes so much time to move through the grief and pain? I don’t think so. Because it’s different for everyone. And what I’m discovering about myself is that while I’m often slow to jump in…I’m equally slow in getting out. That’s just me.

Letting go takes time and patience. It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a process. Life’s lessons are learned in stages. We need to fully inhabit each stage as it comes. And not have the expectation that it’s all going to go smoothly, in some perfect order. There’s no recipe for getting through difficult times. You just have to be with it and know…you’ll be done with it when you’re done with it. You may not feel like you’re making progress. You may actually feel stuck. But this is where you do your most important work. This is where you become whole again.

Putting Things in Perspective; It’s Just Stuff

03 Apr 2011 Leave a comment

by Shannon McDonough in April 2011 Tags: , , ,

They say less is more, but I’m having a hard time believing that right now. Friday night I lost all my electronic ‘stuff’; documents, pictures, music, everything. As soon as I realized it was gone, my heart sank to the floor. I literally thought I was going to throw up.

It was an accident. My son, Kyle, had run out of room on his Xbox hard drive. A new hard drive was on his birthday list and he asked me if anyone had gotten it for him. I said no, because no one had. I was still thinking about buying it, but it was late and I was tired. Besides, his birthday wasn’t until the next day. He asked if I had a memory stick he could use. I didn’t, but told him he could probably use my external hard drive since there was plenty of room on that. I’ve used the hard drive on both a PC and Mac with no problem so I figured storing things on the Xbox would be much the same. I was wrong. Apparently when Kyle plugged it into the Xbox, it asked him if he wanted to customize. He clicked ‘yes’ and it reformatted the drive. Just like that, years of data was gone. I hadn’t backed it up anywhere else because I was waiting to get our new laptop and put it all on there.

Kyle could see how upset I was. He just kept saying he was sorry and wiped away the tears from his eyes. I felt so bad for him because it really was an accident. Neither one of us thought anything would happen. We text my other son, Mitch, to see if there was anything we could do. He said no; it was all gone. And then he said, “it’s just stuff.” Sometimes your kids have to remind you what you already know.

I’m trying to put this in perspective. My mom went to the funeral of some friends yesterday who laid to rest their beautiful seven year old daughter. And I know they would gladly lose all their electronic ‘stuff’ just to have their daughter back. When I think about what they must be going through and the pain they must be enduring, I start to cry. I feel guilty for even thinking twice about my loss. And still, I wake up in the middle of the night in a panic thinking about the photographs I’ll never have again or the documents I might need that are gone.

Yesterday I started reading Geneen Roth’s new book, “Lost and Found”, which is about what she learned when she and her husband lost their life savings in the Bernard Madoff Ponzi scheme.  In the beginning of the book, she tells her spiritual teacher about what happened. Jeanne, her teacher says, “I know this is shocking. And you will probably need to spend some time crying and feeling angry and grieving. But I promise you that nothing of value is lost.” I had to stop and think about that. Nothing of value is lost.

My friend Marian, who had contemplated losing all her electronic files recently, wondered what she would do in a similar situation. She decided if she lost all that stuff, she would survive and she’d have a lot less clutter. Well, she’s right…I will survive and I do have a lot less clutter. I’ve since found a lot of the photographs in other places; KodakGallery, Facebook, on my camera. And I know friends and family will have more of the missing photos too. All is not lost. And yet, I still have moments when I think about what happened and my heart sinks.

This morning I read a post on LifeByMe.com. It was called “Living in Courage” by Debra Oakland. From her bio, “Within six years, Debra Oakland lost her son, her unborn child, two brothers, and her father. Instead of giving up, she chooses to live in courage, joy, and power.” (www.livingincourageonline.com) Wow!  I don’t even know what to say to that. But it seems the Universe has conspired to help me see something beyond my own experience.

I’ve been wracking my brain as to why this situation has felt so devastating to me right now. After reading and hearing about other people’s experiences, I know I’m fortunate. And I am grateful for all I do have; my family, my friends, good health, a job I enjoy, food on the table and love in my heart. And yet, I have to wonder why I this hit me so hard on Friday night. Honestly, I feel pretty ridiculous even caring about it at all. But I committed to being honest and real on this blog. These are my real thoughts and feelings…whether I like them or not.

My friend Denita wondered if this loss hit me so hard, because I haven’t quite recovered from the last big loss I suffered in my life. Maybe she has a point. There are days when losing the person I thought was the love of my life, rocks me to my core. So I know those feelings are still there and it doesn’t take much to bring them to the surface. But I also know that experience, any experience, really, leaves me with a choice. I can choose to learn and grow from it, or I can let it destroy me. The balance I’ve chosen is to acknowledge and feel my feelings; even the ones that hurt. But not let that pain work it’s way in and poison my beliefs about life and love. Some days that’s tricky.

I imagine in a year, losing all my data, won’t even matter to me. And that’s really how I try to gauge the importance of things. But part of this journey is to not apologize for how I feel about something…no matter what you might think of me. I want to be true to myself at any given time, feel those feelings and learn from them. Part of the process of authenticity is learning to accept that sometimes I let things bother me more than I should. That’s just part of being human. Debra Oakland says, “It takes courage to believe in ourselves, to be our true authentic selves, never apologizing for who we are.” I’d like to think I have that kind of courage…at least some of the time.

I Don’t Want to Work That Hard

27 Mar 2011 2 Comments

by Shannon McDonough in March 2011

This week’s epiphany is brought to you by your childhood…aren’t they all? I am continually amazed at how even though I’m 44, I’m still allowing the 5 or 10 or 15 year old in me to run my life. I have an adult life with adult responsibilities and a 10 year old is running the show. Fantastic! Read the sarcasm here. I guess it’s hardly a surprise I’m not getting what I say I want.

I have always considered myself a hard worker. I’m proud of that. There were times during my marriage when my ex-husband would tell me I’m lazy. Probably because he knew it would piss me off. And it did. Lazy is a hot button for me. I am NOT lazy! Wow…good thing I’m not bugged by that. More sarcasm.

I know where that comes from. That drive to work hard; to not be lazy. My dad is an exceptionally hard worker. I could go so far as to say he’s a workaholic. But I guess that’s subjective since he probably wouldn’t describe himself that way. Honestly, I think he really likes working. I don’t think he can really grasp why people would do anything else when they could be working. He would rather work than do almost anything, including go on vacation. That’s his thing. And, at almost 70, I don’t think he’s likely to change.

I’m not saying working hard is a bad thing. It’s not. But I think it’s important to be aware of the motivation behind working hard. Let me be honest…I don’t work hard because I love working. I work hard, and this is the kicker, because at 44 I’m still trying to prove to my dad I’m good enough. You’d think after all this time I’d be tired of that…and I am. But I keep doing it. Old habits die hard.

The whole thing is really pretty silly when I step back and look at it objectively. For one thing, my dad has no idea how much I do or do not work. We’ve never talked about it. I don’t even think he knows what I do for a living. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t really give it any thought. He’s far too busy working to think about anything else, really. But the 10 year old in me is still choosing jobs where hard work is expected of me so I can show my dad I’m worthy of his love.

I was in my last job for over 11 years. And there were many times when there was more work than could ever get done. I worked a lot. More than I liked. I felt like I had to, to keep my head above water. At least that’s what I told myself. I never felt like I belonged in that job…. I was like a fish swimming up stream. I had to force myself to go to work every day. I hated it. There was a time I had a complete breakdown and had to take a leave from work. But when the leave was over, I went back to the same job. And I kept pushing myself. Crazy, I know.

In December I took a new job. I was so excited…so proud of myself for stepping outside my comfort zone. I wanted something I enjoyed more, something that suited me better. It does. I like my bosses, my coworkers and our clients. I’m getting to interact with and meet some really interesting people. But I have to push myself every day. The workload is overwhelming at times and some days I want to sit and cry. I had such high hopes. I thought things would be different because the job is different, the people are different, the work is different. But…I’m not different. Damn!

What is comes down to is this. It’s not my dad or my job that are the problem. It’s my overwhelming need to prove I’m good enough that drives me to do what I do. The other day I was on the phone with my girlfriend. I was feeling exhausted and near the breaking point.  And then it hit me. I don’t want to work this hard. I don’t. I’m done being the 10 year old trying to prove myself to my dad. I’m done! Over it!

Wow! That was quite an epiphany for me. I don’t want to work so hard. Who knew? What a relief. Now what? I can finally relax, right? Well, don’t get ahead of yourself. The reality is I can’t quit my job. And I don’t really want to. But, what I can do is stop and be present in those moments when I feel that insatiable need to work more…work harder. When I’m tired and I keep pushing myself, I can take a breath and remind myself…I am good enough. Because I am. And maybe, little by little, I’ll let go of that need to prove myself. It makes me feel peaceful just thinking about it.

Though it’s sometimes hard for me to remember when I’m running non-stop through my life. But, truthfully, there’s nothing to prove. And when I take a moment to stop and get quiet, I know in my heart I don’t have to do anything to earn anyone’s love. I am enough…just the way I am.

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