I was taking a morning walk today when the words “quiet opposition” gently rolled through my mind. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the changing landscape in our country–both politically and socially–and how much I have personally changed.
There was a time I would march in the streets, attend rallies, or post and comment on social media about what I saw as societal or political dangers, but in the past few years I’ve becoming increasingly less vocal in my opposition of such things.
It appears I’ve entered into an era of what I think might best be called quiet opposition.
And when those words swept through my mind this morning, it was a gentle bolt of awakening. A-ha! This is what I am experiencing. And this, too, may be what is happening out there in the world. In our country. Perhaps I am not alone in this shift…
Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and place for loud opposition. For boots on streets, clever signs, knocking on doors, blowing whistles (both figuratively and literally)–but there is also a time to be quiet.
We don’t always need to be loud in our opposition. Loudness can often add fuel to the fire and work against you. Sometimes, and for now, this is where I’m at… Sometimes, it is better to just make small actions in your own life and to reflect on what is happening and how we got here. Sometimes, we need to be quiet.
Being quiet doesn’t mean disengaging entirely. It can mean making small, meaningful change in your world. In your sphere. Where you can. In the small corner of your world where you can make a big difference: within yourself, and then maybe in your family, and those in your community.
I’ve been quietly working to create a community of friends here in my small town. Ever-so-slowly finding my safe spaces of like-minded people, or open-hearted (and greatly different minded people), that I can lean into and explore the issues that are tugging at me.
And things I see as “societal ills” I am working on at home. Making adjustments in the way I live and the lifestyle of my family.
Things like quitting social media (except LinkedIn), becoming a CSA (community supported agriculture) member, donating more money to the organizations that align with my values, making time and space to support my local friends as best I can, daily journaling, long walks, and writing “get out the vote” postcards to encourage more people to vote in the upcoming elections.
And then enjoying my life, being grateful for my freedom, and keeping myself calm and steady in what can feel like a storm swirling around me.
I will not be sucked in. Or at least, I will do my best, to ground myself in quiet opposition to the pull of doomsday thinking and black-and-white arguments.
Wishing you all a peaceful week and wondering if anyone else out there, is being pulled to be quiet?
A lot has changed since early 2020. Everyone was impacted by the global pandemic—some in small ways, some in large. For me, it changed everything.
One week into the shelter-in-place mandate, my boyfriend at-the-time drove to Boston and picked me up so we could shelter-in-place together at his home in Northern New Jersey. His ex-wife had insisted the kids stay with her instead of shuttling them back and forth between their houses, so we seized the opportunity to shelter together and ride out the COVID storm at his house.
We talked about it at length and thought it made a lot of sense. Risky, of course, but it was good for us both. It was a scary time and it would give us both someone to talk to, hug, and walk with—and the added bonus of more time together to see if our long-distance relationship had legs.
Looking back, it was such a bizarre time. The world as we knew it was crumbling and we were in our little love bubble. Everyday he would drive to his ex-wife’s house to work from her basement and help the kids with their Zoom classes—and every night he’d return home and we would cook delicious meals, snuggle on the couch to watch the news and the rising death toll, then get a good night sleep so we could get up early for a homemade latte and morning walk, before we’d do it all over again.
We did this for weeks on repeat. A morning walk, part ways to work for the day, then come together at night for dinner, wine, news, and snuggles. The world was melting and people were dying and our love was blooming as it all came crashing down.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. And we were budding a new life, together.
On the weekends, we’d visit his two sons at his ex’s house to play games, have a meal, and chat about everything going on in the world. Under ordinary circumstances, we wouldn’t be hanging out at her house and I wouldn’t be helping her cook dinner—but these were no ordinary times. We all felt the change taking place. We all felt the uncertainty. And we all benefitted from being together.
After a few months, we realized life would not be returning to pre-pandemic times for a very long time. And so, we had to make some pretty big decisions. Should I return to my apartment in Boston? Should I move to Northern New Jersey? Should we live together?
We decided to live together. And then we got pregnant. And then we got married. And then we bought a bigger house with a bigger yard and the years began to pass.
Over the course of one year, I went from being a single woman living in a one-bedroom apartment in Boston to a wife, mother of three (my birth daughter and two stepsons), and a home owner in the suburbs of Northern New Jersey.
Life had suddenly flipped upside down in the best possible way, but it was a lot to process, with barely any time to process it. The ground just kept moving.
It took years for people to begin returning to the office. There was so much fear and hesitancy about the virus and vaccinations, not to mention many people liked working from home—or needed to work from home due to care taking responsibilities. I was not the only person things had changed for. Most people experienced moderate, if not large-scale, change during this time. It was probably the rare occasion for someone to only be minimally impacted by the changes in society.
I often wonder how much of it has been processed and unpacked, and how much has been left unexamined as we charge forward.
For me, it changed absolutely everything. But I’m no stranger to hard times, chaos, and uncertainty—so I thrived in it, for a time. It was only years later that it began to catch up with me…
I forgot the step about eventually needing to slow down. You can rise to the occasion and brave the change and forge ahead, but at some point, you need to slow down and let it all sink it. You need to feel it and process it. You need to reassess your life under its new circumstances and make adjustments.
Before the pandemic, I was a pescetarian (23 years strong), hiked and practiced yoga regularly, had ample time to meditate or journal or reflect, and could travel on a whim and see live music as much as I wanted. The pandemic—and more importantly, motherhood—changed all that.
I love being married. I love being a mom. And I love being a stepmom. It’s good and it’s hard and my relationship with my husband and all three kids is always changing and evolving.
But it’s not easy to balance work and family life and time for yourself. It can even feel a little soul crushing at times—especially with little ones. There’s often so little time left for yourself when you’re done giving to others.
Sure, there are all kinds of hacks to improve structure and routine, but it’s a process to try new things, implement them, test and learn, and build new habits. It’s a huge cognitive load.
For a time, I managed to balance it all, but then things changed at work–and the job and company I once loved became a source of chaos and stress.
Work had been a place for me to thrive. It was a creative outlet, a place to connect with all kinds of people, and a source of inspiration. But if you change a few people, and move to new projects, it can suddenly feel entirely different. It was no longer safe, steady, and supportive—it was dragging me down and making it harder for me to be the mother I wanted to be.
After many attempts to address the issues at work, and many conversations with my husband, I made the decision to leave the workforce after almost 20 years in the Financial Services Industry.
It’s been a bumpy three months easing into my new phase of life. I’ve finally had the time and bandwidth to look back and process the events of the past four years. And now I’m thinking ahead about what comes next and how I want to channel my energy in this next phase/stage/chapter of life.
There are a lot of unknowns, but one thing is finally certain: it’s time for me to write.
Just saying that makes my eyes water. Time for myself. Time to connect with you. And time to say the things I’ve been waiting to say and share.
So here we go! Buckle up, and get ready, because I have a writing project to kick-off in the coming weeks and I’d love for you to join me on this ride.
On feathers she walked, drifting toward the moon on notes of Bach and Beethoven. Floating over fields of lavender, and rivers of honey. She waved goodbye to the alabaster house on top of the hill, and blew kisses on the wind, hoping they would land on the hearts of those she left behind. For her heart had danced to the rhythm of the hour, and her feet had skipped to the sound of the drum. Her lips had delighted in the jasmine and berries, and her eyes soaked in the golden of the sun. She could have stayed and swam in the senses, but her lover was beckoning her, calling her home. And so she floated to the sky, to reunite with him where he shines, watching the people from afar and reveling in their joy.
Last week I gathered with seven of my girlfriends for a lovely Vegan Thanksgiving Dinner. We have been having meatless dinners every two weeks for the past five months and creating delicious meals that feed our bodies, nourish our souls, and we also happen to have fabulous conversation and wine to wash it all down. When we first began to meet, we crafted our shared mission, laid out our guidelines and thus began our journey. The thing about journeys, as we have all learned, is that there is so much that is unplanned. And there in the life and the ish and the serendipity lies the magic.
Thanksgiving is not a Holiday that I normally feel very strongly about. By now we know that Christopher Columbus was not a very good man and that what was done to the Native Americans was cruel and wrong on so many levels. But we Americans continue to celebrate regardless. Hopefully most people embrace this holiday as a chance to reflect on what they are thankful for, what makes them grateful and then share these feelings with close friends and family. I’m not sure about most families, but mine doesn’t typically reflect aloud (although I don’t believe I have ever initiated or suggested that we do). I simply take a moment and say my thanks within my mind, and maybe send a few thankful texts and a Facebook shout out.
During our Vegan Thanksgiving Dinner, my amazing friend Kat mentioned that we forgot to say our thanks. Wait, people actually do that? The idea excited me, but I was immediately struck with the thoughtOh, crap!Now I need to think of something quick. How do you say on the spot what you are thankful for? Luckily I was second to last, so I had a little time to formulate my answer. As my friends began to speak, I couldn’t help but to hang on their every word and was completely moved by their answers. Thanks was given for friendship while husbands were away on military leave. For friendship during breakups and makeups and hard times. For nieces and nephews. For making new friends, having a safe place to speak and empathetic ears to bend. For new jobs and traveling adventures. For fertility treatment and twins on the way. For health and success in business.
While my friends were speaking, I was hit with my answer: I am thankful to be living now, in this day and age.As a 29 year old single female, I cannot tell you how glad I am to be living in this era. As women in America, we have the freedom to live our lives as we choose. Up until recently, women have had to abide by the the lifestyle laid out before them. This usually consisted of marriage, a lot of babies and tending to the home. In the last century, women in America have been making great strides. We can be gay, straight, bisexual, single, married, divorced, educated, fit, overweight, employed, living on welfare, vote, travel, follow whichever religion we choose, pursue whatever career we like, have children, not have children, garden, have a personal chef. We have the technology, the freedom and the education to play a hand in our fate. We are empowered.
I can choose the life I want and pursue it with little judgment. Obviously there is judgment in the world, but there is more acceptance and tolerance than ever before. There is someone in your corner now, cheering you on and propelling you forward. A century ago, I would have been considered an old hag. Too old to marry. An outcast. Or most likely, I would have fallen in line with the steps of society: married, working in the home and having my fourth child. I am so grateful for the life I lead. My friends and family accept me, I pursue every passion and idea that crosses my mind and strikes my fancy, and I express myself openly and share myself fully. I know that for every person that judges me, there is someone else reaching out to give me a hug and thank me for being my authentic self.
I am thankful to be empowered.
I am thankful to be living now, in this day and age.
The Daily Post issued a Photo Challenge asking bloggers to share a photo of what Renewal looks like to them.
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Life is all about timing. If you ask any one person the same question during different times in their life, you will most likely receive very different answers.
Over the weekend I went on a short trip to Palm Springs with a girlfriend of mine. We both had a three day weekend and were in desperate need of a mini getaway. Luckily, it didn’t take long before the fresh air, beautiful scenery and friendly locals had us smiling from ear to ear. While our bodies were tired from exploring, our minds were alert and thriving on the beauty around us and wonderful conversation. Before leaving the hotel, we decided to lay by the pool in our clothes and let the sun wash over us. Grateful for the trip and our shared joy, we laid back and let the sun shine upon us, bathing us in her beauty.
As I reclined in my lounge chair, spirit soaring with peace and renewed energy, I snapped this shot.
Yes, this is renewal. Fresh air. Nature. A good friend. Sunshine.
I have spent a lot of time learning to love and accept myself for all that I am and not to dwell on the things I wish I were. I have made the choice to change the things in my life that I wish were different, either by action or perception. But for the sake of the question, I will play along. Maybe I wish I were able to fly? Maybe I wish I were wealthy or a Nobel Peace Prize Winner? Yes, those things would be nice, but the answer does not satisfy me. In order to find the answer, I quieted my mind. Completely void of all thought, I posed the statement again. Ah, yes. My answer. My truth. My greatest wish.
I wish I were able to share the joy of loving yourself.
If someone had asked me five years ago if I loved myself, I would have rolled my eyes, answered “yes” and thought to myself what a ridiculous question that was. Of course I loved myself. Maybe someone with low self-esteem or battling depression would answer that they don’t love themself, but c’mon, the majority of us love ourselves. Don’t we?
Today I would argue there are many people that do not truly love themselves. Why do I believe that, you ask? Every time I hear someone tease or bully, I do not hear love, I hear fear. When I listen to someone boast at length why they are the best on their team, the smartest in their office or the most good-looking person at the beach, I do not hear love, I hear insecurity. When I hear people gossip or speak negatively of others and belittle other opinions, I do not hear love, I hear a plea to be accepted.
In my experience, realizing you truly love yourself is like the first time you have a serious crush, and you wonder if you are in love. You think you might be in love. You think you are. This has to be love, you assure yourself. Then one day, you really fall in love. Head over heels, shout it from the rooftop, make your head spin and your knees weak, love. And once you recognize that you are in fact in love with this person, you realize the time(s) you thought you were in love, you really weren’t. Yes, you loved and cared for the person, but you were not in love with them. This is love. Now that you know what being in love is, you can hardly believe you thought you were in love before.
When you are in love with someone, you want nothing more than for them to be happy. Their joy brings you joy. When they are sad, hurt, grief stricken or filled with sorrow, you would give your left arm for them to smile again. Their success is your success. You are willing to move cities, change jobs, cancel plans, quit smoking, lose weight, attain more education, all to make them happy. Their happiness is your happiness. This is love.
Here is a little food for thought. Are you willing to move cities, change jobs, cancel plans, quit smoking, lose weight, attain more education, in order to make yourself happy? Do you have faith in yourself? Do you believe you are worthy of love and all of the good things in your life? Do you believe you deserve to be treated well, with kindness, honesty and compassion? It took me years of self-reflection and working on myself to reach the point where I can say “yes” to all with complete confidence.
A few years ago, I decided to finally put myself first. I realized that the key to happiness could only be found within and that I needed to fully explore what that really meant. I removed all previous notions about what I thought I needed to be happy and started to pursue the people and activities that brought me happiness. During my period of self exploration (which is now ongoing) I learned a lot about myself, the need for forgiveness, the importance of acceptance and how to be patient. I learned to just be. I learned to exist in the moment and to be happy with who I am.
Years ago, I never would have been able to say out loud that I am proud of myself. Now, I can tell you that I love how kind and accepting I have become. I think it is wonderful that people can change and that I give them a second (and sometimes a third and fourth) chance. I think my sensitivity and vulnerability is beautiful and strong. I think it’s endearing how gullible I am – it means I am a believer. I love how open and resilient my heart is. I am grateful I see the world in all its many shades and revel in the beauty. I love that I enjoy spending time alone as well as making hoards of new friends. I love that I love me.
This love I have found for myself has taught me to be patient, kind and accepting. Loving myself makes me love the world more and all of the people, creatures and plants within it. I wake up alone every morning, feeling more loved than I ever could have imagined someone could feel on their own. I wish that everyone knew this kind of peace. This kind of joy.
I wish I were able to share the joy of loving yourself.
There is something to be said for heartbreak. Until I experienced it for myself, I had no idea how horrible it really is. I had no idea how painful it can be and how much it can destroy your very foundation.
My heartbreak was at the hands of the first man I ever loved. We were together for over five years and I thought I was going to marry him. This did not happen. I had never known betrayal until our end, and I certainly never could have imagined it would yield such doubt and sorrow.
Grief was never anything I welcomed or allowed in my life. When our end came, I knew that I had to feel this hurt. It was going to be completely vital for me to acknowledge and feel every ounce of pain in order to heal – and so I did. My once cool and collected self became a puddle of tears. I cried every day for months. Then I cried a few days a week for a few more months. Eventually I cried once a week, once a month, and then only rarely. I was grateful not to have tear soaked pillows every night, but I was completely withdrawn from my old joys of life. I had to take a step back and reevaluated my life and the choices I had made that brought me to that point.
Yes, I blamed him for what happened, but things are never one sided. I had overlooked things in our relationship and in him. For this reason, I blamed me too. I no longer trusted myself as a good judge of character. Learning to forgive myself and trust myself again was going to be paramount on my journey. I decided I needed to take all of my life plans and put them on hold. Before I would be able to wholeheartedly pursue the career, house and family I wanted, I needed to fully heal. Not only did I need to heal, but I needed to have joy in my days and in my heart. I needed a genuine smile, big belly laughs, and a healthy mind and body.
One at a time, I pursued these things. I moved to a part of town I preferred. Check! My boss was adding too much stress for me to heal, so I found a new job. While it was less money, the peaceful work environment was priceless. Check! I lost 20 pounds. Check! I felt stagnant in my activities and habits, so I said YES to new things and hung out with as many new people as I could. I took a trapeze class. I took a sushi making class. I learned to do Yoga. I started to sing again. I started to write. I worked out more. I’ve always been healthy, but I made it a top priority and really started to listen to my body. Wow… Check! Check! Check! I started to feel happy – really happy. I realized that the house I wanted, the man I wanted to marry and the children I wanted to have was all part of a lovely plan – but I wanted more.
So here I am today. I have found forgiveness for my Ex and for myself. In fact, I often catch myself spilling tears over the amount of joy and love in my heart. I am in awe at the love I have for myself, the people in my life and this amazing journey we are all on. The plan now, which I am actively pursuing, is to be present. I vow to continually try new things and live in the moment as much as possible. I am open to love, travel and career possibilities. I will never again try and force a life I want. Being present, I enjoy each moment and happily accept the gifts that Life gives me. I would never be where I am now if I hadn’t been wounded so badly. My broken heart led me on a journey to finding true love, within. I will be forever grateful for the lessons I have learned.
Yours truly,
Erin Terese
P.S. Here is the audio version if you would prefer to hear my actual voice.
erin terese 