Wednesday, April 2, 2008


I went for a run this morning. Ian had stayed over, so I seized the opportunity of having another adult in the house to watch the kids, and I headed out for a short and fast trot.

The air was cold and fresh, and I could smell the ocean. I left my iPod at home, preferring to listen to the chirps of birds and hum of school buses throughout the neighborhood. My stride was short; I was tired and not making great lengths with my little legs this morning. The wind through the open window in my bedroom last night woke me up several times, and the ringing of my neighbor's windchimes were as eerie as they were comforting at 2AM. I didn't sleep well.

It was while running that I remembered my dreams from last night. They aren't worth recounting in this space. Ian's were far better than my old, tired, recurring dreams with faces and places that my subconscious clearly can't forget. I'm still conflicted about the effect my divorce will have on my children, and I still wrestle in my sleep (and many waking hours) with immense guilt for some of the choices I've made. I recently asked my therapist if it was all worth it--having hurt so many people a few years ago.

"Moira, I'd like to remind you that you didn't act alone. And you didn't even act that badly. And it was all a catalyst for the change that needed to happen in your life. When you came into my office three years ago you suffered from acute, crippling anxiety that was directly related to a miserable marriage that could not be repaired, even after your transgressions. Even after months and months of marriage counseling. And now? You're out of an unhealthy marriage. Your children are thriving. You're working and doing extremely well taking care of yourself and the kids. You've established contact with your father's family. You've reset the boundaries of your relationship with your mother. You're happy. You've learned so much about yourself and how to pay that forward in a relationship with another man. And you no longer suffer from life-crippling anxiety. You tell me: Was it worth it, even if he never left his wife for you?"

Yes. Worth more, in fact.

Anyway, back to good dreams. Ian dreamt last night that I won tickets to see the Yankees and meet Joe Girardi. Now THAT is a dream. I'm not surprised that's where his subconscious took him as he slept. I was near tears of happiness watching the Yanks play their first game of the season last night--and they won 3-2 over the Blue Jays. "Happy now?" Ian asked when the game was over. I was more than happy. I felt normal for the first time since fall.

Well, almost normal. I'm running again, and that's a good thing. More yoga is a good thing, too, as is my significantly scaled-back social life. I have many acquaintances, but few true friends, as the past few years have taught me. And right now, that's fine with me. Quality, not quantity: That's what I'm striving for in every corner of my life these days. I've long been known to say that "life is too short for anything but good wine and vine-ripe tomatoes (or native tomatoes, when they're in season)". Am I wrong?

I returned from my quick run refreshed, awake, and ready for a big cup of coffee after my water. Ian took the kids to school, and I made my way to work. I have three quotes to share with you. And then I'm going to defect into the workday.

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” - Crowfoot

“Whatever needs to be maintained through force is doomed." - Henry Miller

“It's hard to beat a person who never gives up.” - Babe Ruth

(Okay. One more from Ruth:)

“Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.” - Babe Ruth


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