... Living inspired by the beauty of life, one post at a time.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

My life imperfectus



My life is imperfectus, meaning unfinished, incomplete and ongoing. 
It is unfinished business and I'm okay with that. I love my very imperfect self, we have come a very long way. 


(Imperfect" comes from the Latin imperfectus "unfinished",[2] because the imperfect expresses an ongoing, uncompleted action. Source)


The fairytale ended abruptly. 
Life was thrown into a gigantic chaotic mess some years back. My marriage ended dramatically in heartbreak, anguish and utter desolation after just fifteen years of marriage. It broke my heart. I had worked very hard at perfection, striving towards being a perfect wife, mother, confidante and friend. Yet in the end I was left picking up the ruins of a less than perfect marriage and less than perfect life.

For so long
I had worked hard at being the very best at whatever I put my hand to. I hung the washing with flair, shopped with precision, ensured every meal was nutritionally balanced, ironed with gusto and vacuumed wholeheartedly. I organised schedules, planned meals, cleaned house, implemented a budget, valued efficiency, loved order and denounced uncleanliness. I juggled my balls like a pro (The circus would have been impressed!) ... and then one very ordinary day it all came crashing down. My marriage was over just like that.


Suddenly I was a single Mum. 
I was out of options and at the end of the road. Emotional trauma and spiritual upheaval ensued. This was not meant to happen to me! Questions echoed from deep within, rolling in like the surging sea. Self doubt loomed large and fierce. The emptiness shocked me. I could hardly breathe.


And then
For the sake of working at making a living, I forgot to LIVE - really truly live. I put the art of living on standby. I forgot how to laugh with my kids, marvel at the clouds floating across the sky, missed out on dancing in the rain, jumping in puddles and singing at the top of my lungs. Somewhere along the way I lost myself. Passion died. I lost the essence of me.
Some how

Love won out in the end. That deep unending selfless Mumma bear love for my children kept me hopeful, focused and intentional. It helped me get up in the morning, face the world and step beyond myself. A greater more expansive and unconditional love graciously encompassed me, tenderly drew me near and safely anchored my heart and my soul. Sweet redemptive truth took hold, filling and overflowing the empty places within ... on and on it flowed ... more than I could ask for. More than I could ever imagine ... and more than enough.
"He is able to do immeasurably MORE than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us." Ephesians 3:20

© copyright k.weight 2011

(for more of my story click here)

My single parent life - lessons learnt in the art of living.
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