The outside temp during a ski trip in Tahoe a week ago was several degrees below zero. No amount of layers or mugs of warm liquids could warm my bones. Instead, stabbing into me like an icicle was my reaction to an unexpected and uncomfortable encounter that occurred the day before. I had bumped into someone I had met on the slopes, and dated for a nanosecond in 2012. This person asked if I would like to catch up over a drink later, only to flake on me without a word.
The turtle pace of the chairlifts provided me ample time to think (and think and think), and feel and feel some more about this encounter. Having to spend the time I had scheduled to enjoy myself in the snow pushing a metaphorical snow boulder up a mountain really pissed me off.
As I result, I made a decision– almost a year from when I first thought it – to delete this person from my cell phone contact list, but more importantly, from my life. And, as soon as my hands thawed out, I did just that.
Because this action is completely aligned with my intention of surrounding myself with a community that adds value to my life – no exceptions – I expected a wave of relief to hit after I pressed the shiny “delete” icon. The name disappeared, and, so too, I told myself, would the burdensome feeling of trying to maintain a connection built on a foundation without adequate trust, respect, and substance.
No such luck.
In that instant, I knew what lay ahead for the rest of the trip: I would have to deal not only with the ski schools and snowboard dudes, but also with the various waves of natural emotions that accompany a loss– be it large or small. NOT COOL.
The first wave hit: sadness. I felt desperate, like I just tossed into the trash the last itty-bitty remaining bite of a food in my home, and I will now surely starve. The second wave soon followed: anxiety– if I could have only found a way to jump out of my skin. Trying to make room for these feelings was like trying to pull my lower lip over my head. Anger followed– a white hot explosion that seared my heart.
How does the banishment of a person who I have known just a single year, and seen only twice, trigger such an onslaught of emotion? My wiser and more grounded self knows how to handle this, but, at that moment, she must have been taking a short coffee break somewhere out of sight.
There I was alone on the mountain, save for the company of my breath. And so I snuggled up close to that constant companion, and breathed, slowly and deliberately. I breathed as if each breath contained a magical elixir. Not the kind that would make difficult things, like sadness or anxiety or anger, go away. Rather the kind of elixir that makes me feel less alone during these crazy times.
A week has past since I made the decision to edit this person from my life. The extremes in temperature have lessened, and I am still waiting for that final wave of relief that signifies completion. It is close, and I know it will arrive. It always does. In the meantime, I will keep breathing.
I really enjoyed this post and could relate to your experience. Beautifully written. Being thrown off-center is always awkward and uncomfortable. Sounds like you were able to ride the waves of emotions and return to your breath and yourself. I appreciate your honesty and vulnerability. Very inspiring.
Thanks Lisa. I am happy to report, that I have indeed ridden this particular wave, breathing all the while, until it broke, and went back out to sea. Glad you could relate to this experience. Warmly, Nicole
I have read this 30 times already, but this time it brought me to tears. Thanks for your vulnerability. Really like where this is going.
Jemma, Aren’t tears such a welcome relief when you know that you are not the only one out there feeling so deeply about something? Nicole
OMG! The rejection, the blow to the ego, the self-doubt that this cad’s cruel act must have caused you. No wonder expunging his phone number was not an instant cure-all. Since reading this blog, I’ve taken your advice about breathing several times. A heartfelt,, honest and beautifully written account. Do you think men are more cruel than women to the opposite sex?
Hi Mom, I am outing you because I feel your protective momma-bear instincts coming out here in your reply. It brings a smile to my face picturing you calling this person a “cad” to his face, which I know you would have done. Luckily, I did have a friend, on of my best my wing-girls, on the slopes with me. Riding out the inevitable wave of emotion is oh so much easier when you don’t have to do it all alone.
On your question, my experience in life has shown me, regardless of gender, that men and women have equal capacity to be cruel, and equal capacity to love like hell. With love, your daughter.
Greg blog! I can relate for sure and am amazed that the mind can so quickly run the stories and trigger such emotions. I recently had a tri-fecta experience similar to what you describe where two people and a new one all entered into my world in the same month. Needless to say the waves of thoughts and emotions have been churning then. And I was so attached to my level headed balanced life that I had prior to those energies entering into my life. Guess it was time to change things up a little bit and be vulnerable again! Breathe. Waiting for that final wave to subside. Thanks for your post.
Kirk,
Glad you can relate to my experience of my getting completely blown off by someone, and the ensuing avalanche of emotions.
Sounds like you have got a surge of waves coming at you that are taking you out of a comfort zone. Have you ever ridden a boogie board in the ocean right to the point where you know you are either going to get slammed down to the sand when the wave crashes, or you can skillfully control your movements to enjoy the ride, but not get pummeled at the end? I think staying in the breath can mean the difference between getting tossed about by new and unexpected experiences, or being fully present to whatever it is they bring. Thanks for reading and sharing. Nicole