The Ring. . . .

It’s October 2018 and I find myself in Arizona. It’s for professional and personal reasons. I had the pleasure of helping at a two day training by Dr. Becky Bailey and then my good friend and colleague, Kim and I went to Sedona for a few days of fun! I’ve been traveling extensively for work; flying all around the country and feeling exhilarated and let’s be truthful. I am a bit exhausted. Kim and Jessica in Phoenix!

Kim and I drove to the Orchards Inn and arrived late at night. It was my first time to be in Sedona. Kim had been previously and loved this Inn! I couldn’t see anything because it was so dark when we arrived. I woke up and opened the curtains and literally gasped. I have never seen anything so spectacular as the glorious red mountains and outcroppings. We made coffee and grabbed blankets to go and sit outside to enjoy the view. 


I have looked forward to this time away from work and to be with a friend that I admire and respect. My hope is to recharge and regroup. I’ve been flying all around the country training for months. I have to be honest. I thought I would have met someone organically by now. I mean don’t you love a story that starts with, “we just met at a bar in the airport and then the rest was magic!” Right? Well it wasn’t happening. I’m ready and have been ready to meet someone. I’ve done the hard work of grieving for Michael. Michael would applaud this for sure. 

So there Kim and I are outside drinking coffee in the beauty and I began to speak about how I don’t need a man in my life. Thank you very much but I am self sufficient and I really don’t need a man. I think that I went on with this diatribe for at least 3 minutes. I then came up for air and then Kim calmly responds with one sentence. “Would you like to share your life with someone?” Well f#ck! And this is where the trajectory changed with that one sentence because I answered quite humbly and quietly, “yes!” 


So we began to talk about the obstacles in meeting someone. The world is a different place. Why is it not happening organically? I asked her about the diamond ring on my left hand. This ring is not an engagement ring but it certainly looks like an engagement ring. The main diamond was my Aunt’s engagement ring. I received her ring after she died and it just means so much to me. But that question hit me hard and the answer. Yes, it looks exactly like an engagement ring. So we quickly make our goal for the day. We are going to find a different ring today. 

What a lovely day we had of wine tasting at Chateau Tumbleweed in Clarkdale, Arizona. 

We then drove to Jerome, Arizona. I felt like we were on the movie set of Gunsmoke; real salons! I could close my eyes and imagine gun shoot outs in the wild, wild west! It was just amazing. Kim and I found small places to duck in and have an appetizer and a drink. We found this lovely place, Raku Gallery, that had amazing funky and unique jewelry. I had so much fun trying on rings and closing my eyes to feel if it was the “right ring.” I finally found it and Kim captured the moment of realization. Of course the ring will have to be sized. My new friend from the Gallery called the artist asking if the ring could be sized down that much. He agreed to make a ring just for me. My finger is that small. 


It took 6 weeks for the ring to arrive. So hooray for me! The first step in my plan is accomplished.

So where’s the sweet spot? Kim is the sweet spot! I treasure our friendship. I value her honesty. I count on her clarity of mind that helped me create a plan that will more than likely help me to find that certain someone. He’s out there. I believe it. Now to the second step in my plan. 

So where’s your sweet spot when you feel stuck in your life? Who do you turn to for inspiration? Who can pull you out of that place? I look forward to your comments.

Hurling Plates!

How do I release such anger; rage? I feel crazy; utterly and totally crazy! 

It’s the summer of 1997; the first summer of dealing with all that is going on in my life!

JMF has moved in with Doo Dah! I vacillate between great sadness and pure anger and rage. Living in ambiguity is exhausting and confusing. Living in suspension is painful. My journal entries account for me hiking to seek some comfort and clarity. I write that “my chest hurts the majority of the time, my heart doesn’t beat normally most of the time and my brain feels fried.” 

I write endlessly about what I want in my life. Here’s one entry!

“So what do I want? I want so much in life. I want passionate kisses. I want joy and laughter. I want to be comfortable. I want to be vulnerable and I want all of these things to be reciprocated.” 

And then July 2, JMF calls to say that he is moving out from Doo Dah’s house. He even cancelled his vacation plans with her. And then the next 10 weeks are a roller coaster. From movies and dinner with JMF to deep worries that I will not be happy if we reunite. He is not well. He is distant. He goes MIA for days. I write endlessly about my doubts. My marriage vows come to haunt me; through sickness and in health? Well f#ck! 

On July 19,1997, I find two phone messages from him. My journal does not recount what the messages are, however my journal notes my great disappointment in his message.

“Saying that I was disappointed would be wrong. I was so mad. Hurling dinner plates off the top of my deck and seeing them explode on impact was of great comfort; a great release.” Please note that it is necessary to scream, “f#ck you as the plate is hurled!”

So the hurling of plates became my “go to” when I needed to release my rage. It was important to note how mad I was during these times. Was I a “two plate mad” or a “five plate mad” kind of day? The summer of 1997 and into the fall was full of rage. I did this so much that JWF comments to me that he won’t mow the lawn anymore. I respond back that the consequence of my actions are that I go out into the yard and clean it all up. It’s quite healing and cathartic. 

Hurling plates off of my deck was my sweet spot. Writing, talking with a friend or taking a walk would not have touched this feeling. I felt helpless and powerless. I was just plain scared that I would be left without financial security for a lifetime. I was plain scared that I would be alone for the rest of my life. Hurling plates released the pain at least for awhile and that is just what I needed. 

What’s your sweet spot when you find yourself enraged: helpless and powerless? I am interested in knowing what you do and covet your responses. 




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