Moving On...

Ultimately we have just one moral duty:
to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves,
more and more peace,
and to reflect it towards others.
And the more peace there is in us,
the more peace there will also be in our troubled world
~Etty Hillesum

My divorce is final.

Actually, it was final August 27th, but evidently it took the court system a few weeks before they decided that they should probably let me know.

Now I am stuck in limbo between using my maiden name (which is legally what my name is now), and my ex-married name (which is what my drivers license, passport, social security card, and Cooking Light subscription say). Remember how much it sucked to change your name when you got married? What a pain in the ass. Well, imagine that like 3,000 times worse...because when people congratulate you on getting married (why do people assume that's why you are changing your name?), you have to watch them stick their foot in their mouth when you tell them it's actually a divorce.

And did I mention that you have to pay $14 to get a certified copy of your divorce decree (which you need to change your name on everything)? Really? I didn't pay enough already for my divorce?

The good news is that I am ok.

Really.

Just the fact that I can bitch about the little details because THAT is what is bugging me is proof.

I even celebrated...for like a week straight.

Steve and I went to The Scenic for dinner the day I found out...and then that weekend we ate our way through Grand Marais!

Not that I was celebrating the fact that Jim and I failed at our marriage - that is a tremendously sad thing that caused immeasurable amounts of pain for almost everyone involved.

Not cool.

But I celebrated the fact that that chapter in my life is closed. That I flipped the page to a brand new chapter and that I can decide exactly what I want to write in this story.

Isn't that worth celebrating? And again, by celebrating I mean eating delicious food and drinking ridiculous amounts of wine.

 Do you think it was a coincedence that I got the news on a Wednesday...the same day that my favorite restaurant offers half priced bottles of wine?

Of course it wasn't.

I waited for a while to post the  news on the blog because there was one thing left to do before it felt final...Jim had to come down to Duluth last Friday and get the rest of his stuff.

Fun!

Thinking that I would get a jump-start on it, I started going through boxes and closets on Thursday night.

The first thing I came across was a letter from my Grandma Grow written to Mrs. Peterson (me), that included newspaper clippings from my hometown newspaper of my friends' happy events: Gina and Michael's wedding announcement and an article announcing the birth of Jenica's daughter, Destry.

Instant water works. Grandma was always sending me these types of articles (because she was the cutest woman in the entire universe), along with articles on why I should quit smoking, and recipes that she came across that she thought I might like to try.

Did I mention that I also had PMS?

Great idea, Lindsey.

As I continued to go through stuff, I also found my old wedding planner, wedding cards, our engagement pictures, folders packed with ideas for our wedding: dresses, centerpieces, flowers, etc.

And I continued to bawl my eyes out.

There is just something about realizing (for the 100th time) that all of those dreams and expectations that you had (while you were smiling away in those pictures, or ripping the pages out of a wedding magazine, completely oblivious) were dead and gone, that has a tendency to break me down a bit.

I totally thought I was screwed for when Jim got there Friday.

But want to know something funny?

I was perfectly fine.

I didn't shed one tear.

I didn't feel angry, or sad, or guilty...

I felt...peaceful.

Maybe my (almost) daily meditations are helping.

Maybe I finally forgave myself and him.

In Tupac's words:
"You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened... or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the fuck on."

Maybe I did that?

Either way, the peace I found felt damn good.

I've been so busy feeling sorry for myself that I've began to notice over the last several months that I have become way more negative about life in general than I used to be.

This weekend, I tried to let that negativity go and instead cling to that little chunk of peace that I felt...

Success.

I hope that I can continue to reclaim that peace within myself.