I have a hard time articulating my spiritual beliefs. Actually, I don’t know that it’s a hard time articulating it, more it’s a hard time understanding them. I’m Jewish – of that, I’m certain. I believe in a divine presence, and I believe that it’s benevolent. I believe in free will. I also believe in destiny, and somehow manage to blend the two into a oddly reassuring theory that I chose my life before I was born. That it was almost like writing a story that has to contain some things – but I was able to choose the awful things that happen knowing that it would balance out in the end. That with some perspective, I would be able to know that this was exactly what needed to happen to get that. This and that being variables that change depending on circumstances. For example – Marc and I miscarried twins very early on in our relationship. And as devastating as that was – and it was truly the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and there were days when I didn’t ever think I’d be able to smile again – I can look back now and say that, without that, I don’t know that things would be what they are today. Without that trial by fire, without that early loss to bind us together – I might well have messed up the relationship with Marc. We were looking for different things at that point, and I think that I might have been too scared and he might have not wanted that level of commitment so soon after the divorce – but when we lost our twins, it brought us so much closer together. So I have Marc, and Lilli and Sarah, and Jessica and Sam and Julianna and this whole life together – and I’m not certain if that would have happened without my twins. Ten years ago, I was not so sure. I was devastated and lost and terrified – because I WANTED those babies so badly, and I had prayed so hard for them, and when they died, I didn’t just lose my babies, I lost my faith. I’ve gotten it back mostly – or thought that I had, but find myself feeling a lot of those emotions these days.
So I try to find some perspective here. Because January will be great, and we’ve got a good chance at getting a lovely place to live, and if I can get thru the next three weeks or so, I think we’ll be okay. But I’m struggling financially in a way that nobody likes to be struggling in December – and I’m bitter and angry about it. And when people say to me (as they do ALL the time) – “You’ll get thru this – you just have to see it happening.” I want to scream in frustration. Because positive thinking can make it easier, but doesn’t make the bad stuff go away. And being positive is no guarantee against the really, really hard stuff. Like being homeless, and worrying about where the Hanukkah gifts are coming from – I don’t KNOW that this will be fine. I knew that we’d be okay before our landlord summarily moved his stuff back in when we had nowhere to go. I knew for sure that we’d be in our own place and we’d be fine. And we’re not. I’m angry and enraged when people assure me that positive thinking is what I need most to make this better.
We are so lucky – I know that. And my kids are doing great – because we have wonderful friends who are happy to have us around and family who loves us and we’ll be okay. Of that, I’m pretty sure. But I can’t blithely assume that just because I want it all to work out, it will. That puts too much pressure on my ability to think my way to success. I believe things will be okay – because Marc has a good job, because we’ve built a stable life together and we’ll get back to that place soon. But I know now that there are no guarantees, and that simply wanting something to work out perfectly doesn’t make it so. I just wish I didn’t have to learn this lesson every ten years or so…
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