The Power of Union

Towards the end of 2014, I finally decided to stop procrastinating and get myself to a yoga class. The reason I had been avoiding taking up yoga for so long is that I had mistakenly assumed that I would find it too slow paced and gentle, especially as my usual exercise routine consists of rigorous workouts of the ‘no gain without pain’ variety. I have since discovered how wrong I was to dismiss this ancient form of exercise as some kind of gentle stretching routine for those who don’t like breaking into a sweat! I have also found that my rather presumptuous assumption that all yoga devotees are uptight vegans whose preferred beverage is a carrot and beetroot smoothie is not entirely accurate! Furthermore, I soon discovered that there are many forms of yoga and that some of them can be very challenging, both mentally and physically. In fact, trying to hold some of the more strenuous postures in Ashtanga yoga for any length of time, whilst simultaneously remembering to breathe correctly, is a lesson in concentration and endurance unlike any other!

I am not sure why I felt such resistance to learning yoga because in many ways it is the perfect form of exercise for someone with a passion for dance; in fact, the graceful flowing movements are very similar to the ballet poses I spent hours practising and perfecting as a young girl. But the greatest benefit I have gained from my yoga practise - in addition to greater strength, flexibility and balance - is an improved sense of well-being and calm. The end result is that I sleep better, my concentration has improved and I am generally less anxious. In fact, following a good yoga workout I often feel as though I have been cleansed from within.  I have also learnt to breathe properly so that whenever my mind starts racing and spiraling out of control, I have the skills to calm myself down just by focusing on my breathing.

The meaning of the word ‘yoga’ is union – signifying the union of body and mind. And in a year that has been marred by one loss after another, I am deeply grateful to have learnt the skills to quieten my raging mind and aching heart – bringing some much-needed balance to my tempestuous life. 

Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2015

Rising from the ashes of adversity ... my recent interview on Authenticity Radio

https://www.spreaker.com/embed/player/standard?episode_id=7289813&autoplay=false

Silver linings…for Lola

As yesterday was Thanksgiving, my housemate and I decided to honour this date by sharing some of the things we are most grateful for over dinner. This got me thinking about some of the most significant events of the past year from a new perspective; one that is more focused on what I have gained during this time, rather than what has been lost.

I have always had the tendency to be a ‘glass half-empty’ kind of girl but I am acutely aware that the key to contentment is being grateful for what you have – never taking good fortune for granted, however fleetingly it may occur. So in my final post before the beginning of a new year, I would like to review some of the most salient experiences of 2015 from another angle. If only to remind myself that in this most difficult and unforgettable of years, there have also been some wonderful moments…

Spring

The first and most memorable of these was the birth of my beautiful niece, born in early March. I will never forget the elated expression on my mother’s face when she came to tell me this wonderful news.  By this stage in the year, she was very seriously ill but nothing could detract from her happiness at knowing she had a new granddaughter. Looking back, I feel certain that she must have used every last vestige of her formidable mental strength to remain with us for this major event. I also know that she could not have left this world in peace without being certain that her granddaughter had arrived safely. Although the baby’s birth at such a difficult time caused us all to swing between extremes of joy and sorrow, it gave us a new focus that helped shift our attention from the spectre of illness and death.  Eight months later, now that my brother’s daughter is beginning to reveal her character and grow into her features, I realise that nothing is ever completely lost – things just change their form. I say this because this gorgeous creature has a little piece of my mother indelibly written into her DNA, as can be observed from her big blue eyes and forceful character!

One of the most enduring outcomes of my mother’s passing has been the way it has transformed the relationship between me and my brother. The shared experience of caring for her has brought us closer in ways that I could never have imagined. During the final week of her life, an unprecedented kind of role reversal occurred as we assumed the responsibility for caring for her, like parents watching over a young child. We barely left her side for five seemingly interminable days – taking it in turns to stay awake at night and when things got really bad, looking after her together. The shared responsibility of supporting her, and each other during those tough times has created a bond between us that I have not felt since we were children. I can only feel gratitude for our newfound closeness – no matter how difficult the circumstances that brought it about. I am also profoundly grateful that we were able to honour my mother’s final wish of dying at home. So many people spend their last days in the clinical environment of a hospital, far from their friends and family – instead she was surrounded by love until the very last moment of her life.

Summer

By early summer, my life had acquired a veneer of stability following the emotional turmoil of the preceding months.  Nonetheless, I was conscious of a lingering fragility just beneath the surface. My main concern was my son, who had become uncharacteristically withdrawn following the abrupt loss of both his grandparents. He had always been very close to both of them, and inevitably their sudden departure hit him hard.

So, I decided that what we both needed was a change of scene and a dose of la dolce vita: sunshine, good food and beautiful people. Over the last few years, Italy has become my favourite European destination and fortunately my son loves it as much as I do. So in mid-July, we arrived in the beautiful medieval town of Assisi. What I hadn’t known when I somewhat arbitrarily chose that particular destination is that our visit would coincide with the Umbria Jazz festival. This annual event is arguably one of the best Jazz festivals in Europe and we soon discovered that it was taking place in the renaissance hill city of Perugia – just half an hour by train from Assisi. The atmosphere at this 10-day event was electric as some 200,000 people thronged the streets to enjoy the free concerts, which continued all day and long into the night at both ends of the old town. The cafes were rammed with people watching lesser known musicians conducting impromptu jamming sessions, while the headline bands followed a more orderly schedule in the main square. Christian and I soaked it all up and even got up to dance to the lively melodies of one of the best Italian Jazz bands I have heard to date: ‘Accordi Disaccordi’. Formed by a trio of two guitarists and a double bass player, their music is best described as a mixture of gypsy jazz and swing, heavily influenced by Italian traditions. Hearing them play was one of the highlights of our holiday – reminding me that some of the best things in life occur unplanned.

One month after our return from Italy, events in my life took another unexpected turn: on the 31st August, I finally came face to face with my soulmate! This was probably the greatest surprise of a highly unpredictable year, not least because the person in question did not conform to my romantic ideals. In fact by virtue of her gender, she did not take the form I was expecting at all! Perhaps I should clarify what I mean here by the term ‘soulmate’. Like most people, I had associated this concept with the idealistic notion that for every person there is just one other being in the world, who is their perfect match.  But it now seems that romantic love doesn’t necessarily play any part in it – a soulmate is just someone who gets us like nobody else does. For me, the only reliable indicator that we may have met this significant person is an inexplicable sense of recognition and affinity – for reasons that obey no apparent logic. This perfectly describes my first encounter with Emma. Instead of conforming to the standard form of an initial greeting, along the lines of: ‘Hello, nice to meet you’. Our first exchange was more like: ‘Hey there, nice to see you again. By the way, where the heck have you been all this time?!’

As time went by, many unlikely parallels between our lives emerged. To begin with, sometime in mid-October while idly discussing our plans for the following week, we discovered that we share a birthday. Although this was a surprise, it may account for some of the striking similarities between us. But, in addition to being born on the same day, we also found that our interests, aptitudes and family backgrounds are closely aligned. One thing is certain, I have never met anyone whose thoughts and emotions I can read so easily, and who needs no words from me to know what I’m feeling. Whatever the explanation for this apparent synergy, our meeting could not have happened at a better time for either of us. For my part, Emma’s presence has helped lift my spirits during some very challenging months; while from her point of view, living with me has given her somewhere to find her feet and spread her wings. Either way, this is something I could never have envisaged when I decided to rent a room in my house!

Autumn

Following an eventful but restorative summer, autumn heralded the arrival of another series of unanticipated events. In early October, an email appeared in my inbox advertising a healing workshop in Glastonbury.  Within minutes of receiving it, I made the rather spur of the moment decision to attend. I didn’t want to give myself too long to think about it as I sensed that this was something I needed, even though my natural scepticism was already telling me otherwise. It is perhaps understandable that I felt apprehensive about sharing my feelings with a room full of strangers or being forced to partake in a series of hippy healing rituals! But, I am glad that I chose to ignore the promptings of my inner cynic because the weekend involved a substantial number of just such activities. And had I known this for sure, I would probably have run for the hills! But by trusting my instincts and not my doubting mind, I gained more than I could have imagined – not just in terms of healing but also in the form of unforeseen opportunities. The most exciting of these was being invited to talk about my writing in a radio interview. Watch this space!

Winter

As late autumn gave way to winter, further unforeseen developments brought new challenges in their wake. In mid-November, my boss called me into her office to tell me that she had decided to extend my probationary period. This was not what I was expecting to hear, especially within weeks of being given a pay rise in recognition of my achievements. I was aware that my energy levels and concentration had been less than optimal but this announcement was still a bombshell. I have never failed to get through a probationary period in any job I have had to date, so this was very hard for me to accept. On the other hand, I have never had to learn the ropes of a new job whilst simultaneously having to manage so much adversity in my personal life. To her credit, my boss was very sensitive in her delivery of this news but after a week of minor vicissitudes, this additional setback hit me hard. Since then, I have begun to see the possibilities that this apparently adverse turn of circumstances has revealed. To begin with, I now have the option of working flexible hours so that I can try to regain the balance and focus needed to function effectively at work and beyond.  I have also been given the unprecedented opportunity to decide what direction my job should take.  But the greatest benefit to arise from this apparent setback is that it has reminded me that the support I need is all around me – I just need to slow down and allow myself to accept it.

I always know that I have been touched by the presence of grace when events conspire to nurture and support me, without my active participation in seeking them out.  I can only feel gratitude for the many manifestations of grace that have been bestowed on me during such a turbulent year. I say this because throughout this period, I have the impression that I have never been alone in my struggles – even when it might have appeared that way. On the contrary, during the toughest times I have been supported through unexpected channels and in unforeseen ways, bringing me all that I have needed to whether the storm. As one of my favourite quotes reads: 

‘I do not understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.’

In the wake of so much change and transformation, I know that I have reached a major turning point in my life. But as I stand at the crossroads between my past and my future, instead of suffering for what has been lost or worrying about what is yet to come, I finally feel free to embrace the gift of the present moment. For the first time in many months, I feel a sense of hope and anticipation. This is because whatever happens in 2016, I know that I will not be alone. And for that I am truly grateful.

Copyright @ Claire-Louise Osorio, 2015 

 

Looking back...moving forwards

With Christmas just over 5 weeks away and 2015 soon drawing to an end, I have been reflecting on some of the events of the past year. I can say without hesitation that this has been one of the most challenging and life-altering periods of my entire existence. I hope that with time and distance I may be able to see the blessings that have arrived in the wake of so much loss and sadness, but I am not there yet. Like the survivor of an unexpected natural disaster, I find myself standing in an altered landscape surveying the destruction of what was and wondering if I dare to trust the ground beneath my feet. For this reason, I am not going to write about my experiences in any detail until I have gained the clarity and sense of perspective that only comes with time and distance. Instead, I would like to share some of the things that have helped me get through the lowest points of my journey. I do this in the hope that those who have been through something similar may gain some comfort and inspiration.

At the beginning of the year, a close friend gave me a copy of a book called ‘Broken Open’ by Elizabeth Lesser. At the time, I was so preoccupied with what was going on in my immediate environment that I had little time or inclination for reading; I was still coping with the painful realisation that my mother was losing her battle with cancer and that my marriage was over. But, in fact it turned out to be the one of the most valuable and timely gifts I have ever been given. In the intense weeks following my mother’s passing, this book soon became my favourite bedtime companion, my inspiration and, at times even my saviour. It is no exaggeration to say that reading it has helped keep me grounded and stable during the most arduous moments of the past year. For this reason alone, I would not hesitate to recommend it to anyone who has suffered a major loss.

In essence, ‘Broken Open’ is of a series of beautifully written essays that document the many ways that we may be broken open by events such as the death of a loved one, divorce and illness – and how we can emerge from these life-changing events, altered but strengthened.  It suggests ways that this involuntary breaking open can actually be beneficial if we allow ourselves to embrace rather than resist the process, so that we emerge from the ruins as stronger, wiser and more compassionate individuals. 

A central theme of the book is something the author refers to as the ‘Phoenix Process’ – in honour of the mythical phoenix, which is said to burn itself to nothing and then arise transformed from the ashes. She speaks with unflinching honesty about her own major Phoenix Process, which arose from the demise of her marriage and how this led to the birth of a self that had lain dormant for years. There is a paragraph in this section that particularly struck me. It reads as follows:

"I have seen people crumble in times of trouble, lose their spirit and never fully recover. I have also seen others protect themselves fiercely from any kind of change, until they are living a half- life, safe yet stunted. But I have also seen another way to deal with change or a painful loss. I call this other way the Phoenix Process - named for the mythical phoenix bird that remains awake through the fires of change, rises from the ashes of death, and is reborn into his most vibrant and enlightened self."

Reading this served to remind me that we always have a choice as to how we respond to life’s trials and tribulations: we can either allow them to break us or we can use the suffering they cause as fuel for self-development. But one of the most timely and useful lessons I gained from reading this inspirational book is the idea that you have to lean into your grief rather than seek to avoid it. There is one particular paragraph that neatly encapsulates this concept, which reads as follows:

"If we do not suffer a loss all the way to the end, it will wait for us. It won't just dissipate and disappear. Rather, it will fester and we will experience its sorrow later, in stranger forms."

This caught my attention because it made me see that I had become so adept at containing my emotions that I could no longer feel anything much at all. I was so busy trying to mask my grief so I could function like a ‘normal’ person that I had scarcely noticed the gradual numbness enveloping me, like a dark and very dense fog.  Reading this made me realise that unless I gave myself permission to really feel my pain, I was going to end up reliant on sleeping pills or antidepressants - for a very long time. This may sound simple enough but in practice, allowing yourself to feel following the loss of a loved one can seem much like jumping backwards off a cliff without a harness. This process requires trust and courage in equal measure: courage to face the sadness and allow it to flow through you, and trust that the painful feelings will eventually subside. I think of this as something akin to stepping into a metaphorical ring of fire – where you just surrender to the process and allow it to burn away and purify the painful emotions. I now know that allowing such feelings to come up helps them to subside more quickly than trying to block them, which actually takes a phenomenal amount of energy! And it definitely works better than trying to force them into submission with all sorts of diversionary tactics.

I will end by saying that although this year has been one of intense and difficult changes – leaving me feeling at times like the victim of a series of very bad car accidents! – I am aware of having gained something valuable from this experience. This is because from time to time, I have been able to gain just enough distance from all the turmoil and drama to appreciate my own remarkable resilience. At such moments, I have been filled with a great sense of reverence and respect for myself. For what these hardest of times have shown me is that even though I may sometimes doubt myself and even though I may still stumble and fall, I will never allow myself to be defeated – no matter what life may throw at me. 


Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2015

The Rise of the Phoenix

The last few years have been a sterile period for my creative life – something akin to an Alaskan winter from which I am only slowly beginning to emerge. The story behind this is a long and complex one but the reason for my recent silence is that in March of this year, my mother finally lost her battle with cancer.

When she was first diagnosed, we were told in no uncertain terms that there was no cure for her particular variant of this disease but that the symptoms could be ‘managed’ for an ‘indeterminate’ period. Loosely translated, this meant that she would be given intensive chemotherapy but that how long she lived would depend on the progression of the cancer.  As a result of this devastating diagnosis, from April 2012 until March 2015, I experienced the strange and unsettling sensation of falling off a cliff backwards in slow motion; certain that I was going to hit the ground eventually, without being sure when. Throughout this time, I battled to prepare myself psychologically for her eventual departure from this world and our lives.  Perhaps not surprisingly, I also found myself unable to write with any consistency.

Now that the ice has begun to thaw around my battered heart, I hope that the words and stories that I want to share may start to flow freely again. Perhaps the time has come to cast aside the hard shell of my grief and rediscover those things that bring a smile to my lips and a spring to my step.

Over the last three years, acute instability and uncertainty have been the dominant themes. During this period, I have been fascinated by the striking synchronicity between events in my personal life and the powerful interplay between the planet of Saturn and my birth sign of Scorpio. I have always believed that interplanetary movements affect us mortals here on earth, so the apparent link between what has been going on for me personally and what has been occurring out there in the solar system comes as no surprise to me.

As it turns out, between October 2012 and September this year, Saturn has entered, exited and then re-entered the sign of Scorpio; bringing with it many tough lessons – particularly for those of us born under this sign. Saturn isn’t a warm, fuzzy planet at the best of times and it assumes a particularly cold countenance in Scorpio. Saturn’s job is to accelerate the processes of maturity and responsibility by forcing us to examine those aspects of ourselves that we would prefer to ignore. Under its influence we are given the opportunity to get our house in order, or continue to suffer the consequences! These things are forced on us, as most of us would naturally avoid them if we could.

Saturn’s most recent return to Scorpio is the last time this planet will pass through my birth sign for the next 29 years. From what I have read, this will offer Scorpios everywhere another opportunity to apply the wisdom acquired from the harsh lessons of the past few years: a chance to review and correct mistakes and wind up any unfinished business from the original transit. For me personally, Saturn’s last dance with Scorpio has resulted in the unrelenting disintegration of almost every aspect of my life - including work, money, family and marriage. During this period, the tectonic plates of my personal landscape have shifted dramatically. The end result is that all that seemed stable and secure has been dismantled and reconfigured.

In my quest to negotiate this turbulent period to the best of my ability, I have devoured all manner of articles from a wide range of sources. One such publication was an interview in Twine Magazine, in which Twine’s resident astrology writer discusses Saturn’s transit through Scorpio with professional astrologer, Dr Debra Silverman. What I liked most about Dr Silverman‘s observations is that they offer a fresh and profound perspective, both on the nature of Saturn and that of Scorpio. In fact, her words on this subject – quote to follow – have given me some useful insights and a renewed sense of empowerment:

“Saturn doesn’t have to be negative at all. He is the high-school principal that catches you in the hallway and asks you if you’ve done your homework. If you go against Saturn and try to cut corners and take shortcuts, Saturn will call you into his office. But if you do your homework, he will reward you with achievement and success. Those who seek excellence simply have to become friends with Saturn. It doesn’t mean you have to hate what you are working towards. It means you take what you find joy in doing and practice it regularly in order to find mastery over it. Saturn is Purpose. If you are aligned with your purpose and practice it regularly, Saturn says, “You’re with me.”

In this interview, Dr Silverman also challenges some of the commonly held misconceptions about the misunderstood and much maligned sign of Scorpio. In her words, Scorpio is “the sign that takes the darkness and brings it to the light.” I love this description as it reaffirms my sense that Scorpios possess something akin to x-ray vision. This enables us to see beneath the surface of things to expose the truth – no matter how dark or inconvenient it may be. In fact, this innate ability to uncover the shadow-self in both ourselves and others is no doubt why some people feel uncomfortable in our presence!

Towards the end of the interview, she goes on to explain that there are, in fact, three kinds of Scorpios– depending on how spiritually evolved the person in question may be. These are as follows:

·         The Snake/Scorpion: This is the Scorpio who dwells only in the darkness.

·         The Eagle (or “Blonde Scorpios”): Scorpios that dwell exclusively in the light. Often “goodie-goodies” because they fear and reject their own darkness without acknowledging it.

·         The Phoenix: This Scorpio is the most powerful sign in the Zodiac. Phoenixes have no fear of the darkness yet they are comfortable in the light. Where there is no fear, there is power.

What immediately struck me about this was that when I decided to name my blog, I actually had no idea that the phoenix is a symbol of my birth sign! I do love this kind of ‘coincidence’, which I think of as just another form of synchronicity. Either way, the fact is that for as long as I can remember, I have felt drawn to the striking images of this mythical creature rising from the flames of destruction to be born anew. By virtue of its innate capacity to transmute material reality, the phoenix is a powerful alchemist and an enduring symbol of hope and resilience.

During some of the most challenging periods of my life, the symbolic power of the phoenix has served as a reminder of my own strength and resilience. It has taught me that whatever life may throw my way, I too have the ability to raise myself up from the flames of adversity. This is never a comfortable process and I have rarely come through it unscathed but, despite the inevitable battle scars, I have always emerged stronger and wiser from the ashes of my former self. And for that I can only be grateful. 

The transformative value of suffering…

Bad things happen to us all from time to time but I have always believed that what defines our value as human beings is the way we respond to such challenges. And sometimes out of the greatest suffering, the most amazing transformations can be born.

As those of you who regularly read my blog will know, at the beginning of this year I found myself facing a crisis in my personal life. I cannot say that I am grateful for this experience because the pain I felt was so intense that for a while I struggled to eat, sleep and do even the most basic everyday things. On the other hand, it did serve a useful purpose: something akin to a long overdue and much-needed wake-up call! With the benefit of hindsight, I now appreciate that perhaps only something of this magnitude could have made me see that I had inadvertently taken a detour down a blind alley.  For the truth is that I had been sleepwalking through life for many months - barely conscious of myself or my interactions with others - along a route that was taking me further and further in the wrong direction. I would no doubt have continued in this way had the invisible hand of destiny not intervened  - forcefully slapping me awake and breaking me open!

I have always been a person who is prone to extremes. Unfortunately, this means that I am very sensitive to both the positive and negative forces in life - with an innate tendency to lean towards a ‘glass half empty’ type of thinking. So, unless I constantly challenge myself to stay conscious,  when difficulties arise I can easily find myself sucked under by their negative pull. This is effectively what had been happening to me over a prolonged period and although I was vaguely aware of it, I hadn’t fully appreciated just how far down the road to hell I had travelled until the Universe decided to intervene by giving me a huge kick in the rear! At the time, I wondered what an earth was happening and how life could seemingly be so consistently cruel to me. But, I have come to see that although this has been an excruciatingly painful experience, it has actually been necessary to get me back on the right track.

I do not often refer to Buddhism in my posts but it is of particular relevance here, because the way I have dealt with my personal challenges is firmly rooted in the philosophy of my spiritual practice. Nichiren Buddhism teaches that life’s problems are necessary because, without them, we would be unable to develop ourselves as human beings and change our negative karma.  This is quite a radical concept and one that embodies a profoundly hopeful way of looking at life’s adversities. Instead of seeing pain and suffering as just pain and suffering, this school of Buddhism teaches us to see any kind of adversity we may face as an opportunity. In fact the Lotus flower – which represents the guiding philosophy of this form of Buddhism - can only grow in murky waters. This perfectly symbolises the concept that in order to grow and change, we actually need to experience adversity. And, at times, life can definitely throw plenty of mud our way!

With this in mind, I have dedicated myself body and soul to using my suffering to make some much long overdue changes in my life. This has resulted in a radical re-evaluation of who I want to be and how I want to show up in the world. Almost every aspect of my life has been questioned in this process – including how and where I live, what I do for a living and the way I relate to others. In fact, in this last area I am already beginning to see positive changes in the way I interact with some of my closest family members – particularly my brother.

As you know, the title of my blog is Forever Phoenix and I have always felt a deep connection to this mythical creature and all that it symbolises. At various stages in my life, I have had to rebuild my world and start over but I have never learnt so much about myself in the process as I have in the last few weeks. Of one thing I am certain – this suffering has allowed me to become softer, more self-aware, and more compassionate to myself and others; but, above all, it has enabled me to become much clearer about how I want to live my life. So, despite a deep sense of sadness and regret, I actually feel more alive and more awake to life’s possibilities than I ever have.

Suddenly it feels like I am poised at the edge of something very new and exciting. And, like a diver, I am flexing my muscles and taking a deep breath – ready to plunge wholeheartedly into the beautiful unknown.

Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2014

New beginnings and difficult endings...

The beginning of any New Year is usually a time of hope and optimism. It is also a time of reflection as we look back on the year just passed and think about our goals and resolutions for the year to come. But the transition from one calendar year to another rarely signifies a sudden change in personal fortune – whether positive or negative. It takes more than a change in date to make that happen, and many of us will have abandoned our plans for self-improvement before the month of January is even over. Yet still, we hold onto the hope that with good intentions and a bit of will power, the New Year will bring us what we truly desire.

On a personal level, I was very glad to say goodbye to 2013. It had been a year beset with difficulties at work and in my personal life. So like many others, I held onto the hope that 2014 would see an improvement in these areas and that perhaps grace and good fortune would be on my side. Unfortunately, just 7 days into the New Year, I have found myself still facing the same challenges as last year, only now I am facing them alone.  Just 3 days into 2014, my husband and I separated after 4 years together. The shock and pain of this is still so fresh that I barely know what to do with myself, but I am doing the one thing I can do right now – which is to write.

 I can’t say that this break up was totally unexpected, but just last month my husband and I had spent some meaningful and much-needed time together, so I had dared to hope that we had turned a corner. I had hoped that we could reconcile our differences and begin to move forwards in the same direction, sadly I was wrong. After a stupid and seemingly inconsequential argument, he announced that he had been unhappy with me for months and that he no longer loved me. I was stunned and devastated. When someone tells you they are unhappy in their relationship with you, there is at least some chance or hope of talking it through and finding a resolution. But, if that person tells you they no longer love you, there is nowhere to go from there.

What saddens me most is that although we had been feeling more and more disconnected for several months, instead of talking about it or taking action, we just let it go.  To be fair, during this time my husband tried to bridge the ever widening gap between us by offering me his support, but I just felt so exhausted and empty inside that I could not respond. I had become so caught up in my own problems that I didn’t fully realise that I was pushing him further and further away.

Someone once told me that when we are facing great trauma or stress in our lives, we revert to our default patterns – the ones we learnt in early childhood. Unfortunately my default pattern seems to be that when I am suffering, I cut myself off from the most important people in my life. I become self-involved, introverted, and stubbornly self-sufficient. From an early age, I have learnt to shield myself from disappointment and pain by not relying on anyone but we all need help and support, especially during tough times. Unfortunately, in the course of several bad relationships, including the one I had with my father, I also learnt that the only way to avoid being hurt by a man is to barricade your heart from him. Because of this, I refused to allow my husband to support me when I needed him most - inadvertently sending a signal that his help was not needed - when actually nothing could have been further from the truth!

It is not my intention to blame or berate myself for what has happened because there had been problems in my marriage for a long time and it takes two to break a relationship. But, I have to recognise the part I played, if only to make sure this never happens again. I do not want to live a life devoid of shared intimacy, unable to either give or receive love, so the time has come from me to take what lessons I can from this painful experience and make some long overdue changes to the way I live my life.

So, I intend to turn my focus inward and start doing the work. I don’t know how I am going to get there or how long it will take, but I must have faith that I am the master of my destiny and that I don’t have to let the past determine my future.  The only way the pain of this situation can have any purpose or meaning for me is if I can use it to transform myself – like the phoenix rising from the ashes.  It is not coincidental that I use this metaphor, Forever Phoenix, is after all the title of this blog. The reason I chose it is because throughout my life I have faced a series of major setbacks and losses and, each time, I have had to start over and rebuild my world from the inside out. I have no doubt that I will do this again, despite the heartbreak that currently engulfs me.

I don’t know how long it will take me to pick myself up and start over but I don’t think it is just a matter of time. They say time heals all wounds but in my experience, it takes a lot more than that. If we don’t really learn from what has gone wrong in our lives, we just carry old scars forward and carry on making the same errors time and time again. To change our destiny – our karma – we have to actively participate in the process, arming ourselves with courage to transform those things in ourselves that keep causing us to suffer. This is my goal, not just for this New Year, but for the rest of my life. Meanwhile, I pray that I may emerge from this experience, stronger, wiser, and happier.

Thanks for reading and wishing you all that I wish for myself - peace of mind, gratitude and the resilience to cope with adversity without losing hope - not just in this New Year but Forever After.

Copyright © Claire-Louise Osorio, 2014