I fear I will be trapped in anger, unwilling to forgive for the rest of my days in a small box; a shrink wrapped trap.

Weeds

Nothing is easier.

The boys are struggling. They were/are smoking pot. E took his bonds from a lock box and cashed them in at a speedy cash for less than face value. He says he spent it on clothes, but I think it was drugs. Drugs and clothes.  Swag.  He walks like a duck talks like a duck, he is a duck. and i can't do a fucking thing about it.

But, I try and it gets worse.

Their father is mute; plays good cop to my bad cop and we all know that only works on cop shows.

I keep trying, and trying and trying and they keep making bad decisions. E lives with his father, runs there when I set boundaries, which means he runs as soon as he comes through the door. His father lets him do this. His father encourages this as it keeps him from feeling badly about withholding his support payments for so many years. His father gives him an airbed to sleep on, and feeds him dinner. That is it.

A sits in front of a computer screen all day. Of course I do everything in my power to keep him from it. It is exhausting. Everything is exhausting. I can't even begin to write the gruesome and entertaining details.

I feel victimized much of the time and then I feel worse because I'm such a weak pussy for allowing this.  I want to control my reaction, I want to let go of expectation and hope, and blame, and hurt.....

And yet, There is love.

Never perfect, but it is goodness and it makes me feel guilty.

How dare I have this love, how dare I leave the battle and the banging of my head against the wall to experience love and affection, respect and admiration.
How dare I love someone who lives in and exotic location where I feel so connected and so powerful and good.
How dare I travel to care for him when he is hurt when my children are home being lazy and possibly smoking pot, and certainly feeling that I have abandoned them. ...
etc,etc,etc

I teeter on the edge of total utter despair and ecstasy everyday.

He was here in the land of oz, traveling over 2000 miles to spend a long weekend with me and my family. He loves me, and I love him.

How will I last until mid-October when I get to play hooky and fly the 2000 miles back into his arms where nothing is perfect, but everything is kind, and real.

Blissed

The lifespan of chaos, confusion and sorrow is like the lifespan of all things.

It is a beautiful thing to burn up in the sun, drop seed and to slowly unfurl one leaf, one petal at a time.

My life has become just that, a life.

Happy in self, happy in love, happy in uncertainty, happy in the midst of conflict.

It's inevitable,

all of it

and it is light and sweet and shines bright as the sun.

Dance class taught me that finding balance is all about feeling where one is centered and steady then imagining an imaginary cord that runs the length of that center; through the core and out the top of the head where it is held steady by the great beyond.

As a child the gymnastics coach advised us to squeeze our bottoms, to tighten the core to maintain that center.
The key was to in being able to sense the center, to understand where it weakened and to strengthen the core that surrounds it.

I had such difficulty feeling these things, I wanted to know where my center was, instead of trusting myself to feel it, I wanted someone to tell me what to tighten, where the string was tethered and exactly how to hold myself in order to maintain my balance.
I watched others balance themselves, tried to emulate and wobbled around barely holding my ground much of the time.

Summer allows wobble time that allows me to feel my base. It's rooted deeply in the knowledge that I am trustworthy and true to my instincts even when I worry I've strayed or that I'm off base, I bounce back on the power of my unique and capable balast.

Guilt, self doubt, shame and regret are dead weight and I've learned that with persistence and placing my energy in doing rather than thinking is the only way to shed unattractive and unhealthy burdens.

I am centered in my ability to love and my willingness to be loved.

I am centered in my willingness to let go of blame and regret and to embrace the opportunities instead of the lost causes.

I am centered in ability to be true and honest and to accept what may come as a result.

I am centered in my belief that there is only peace in embracing ambiguity and abandoning expectation.

Beyond the mantra I am trying to follow my own advice to show and not tell.

I'm headed to the Island in a couple of days. The boys will meet me there in a couple of weeks.

I am not going to plant seeds for the future, or to erase any hard won lessons of the past.

I am going to be in the moments that unfold, to remain open to opportunities to stengthen my core and to help my boys find their own center.

I am going to love and be loved
as is.

Men

I'm going to meet my Island Boy in "Hotlanta" soon. Because of the distance and our respective responsibilities, we share an understanding that it is not fair to ask for exclusivity from one another. While my brain understands this concept, my heart is at odds and my conscience clouded. I don't know how to be a grown up in the uncommitted relationships I've been experiencing.

I crave the touch and the attentions of men. This is human, right?

Because I try to embrace ambiguity and reject any one moral code for such things, I find myself very confused. A bit worried about the implications for my current state of affairs. So much for embracing ambiguity.

Is it natural, is it "OK" to have more than one uncommitted lover? Is it a betrayal of their affection? Is it a betrayal of my emotional well being? Is the fact that I'm confused because I never dated as a young adult? Is it a product of my low self esteem?

Is it selfish of me to spend a couple of months away from my children to be with a man with whom I have an ambiguous relationship?

Over the last four years my romantic life has been complicated by my Ex-husband's sabotage and the effect that his manipulative behavior has on myself and my boys. For years since the divorce I've harbored guilt and fear while dating and exploring men. I felt a need to hide dates, make up excuses for travel and lie to avoid being punished, traumatizing my sons, or bringing on humiliating drama. I realize I am the victim of my own willingness to be victimized.

In spite of all the head games my desires trump my fears.

Three lovers. Three men with whom I respect and desire for very different reasons. Two men with whom I do not entertain any projection into the future. One with whom I'm hopeful for something... but what?

I met a man not to long ago for whom I would have ended any time spent with the others. The timing was all wrong. He is a grieving Widower; his wounds so fresh, my instincts shut him out before the thrill of possibility could dim, before I proved a disappointment, maybe before I would lose myself to his wants and needs.

I will be meeting my island boy and his family, my boys will meet him this summer.

So, what am I doing? Is this normal dating ritual of adult humans?

Decisions, decisions, decisions...

Spend the summer in St. Thomas Virgin Island with a sexy, sweet man with whom I'm smitten and after 5 expensive short stints together we want to see how we fare for long term. I would go to the island for a month without my boys while they attend summer school to make up for failed classes. When they finish they would fly and join me for the second month.

They would stay with their Father while I am gone.

WWYD?