pat·tern
[ˈpadərn]
NOUN
patterns (plural noun)
- a repeated decorative design:“a neat blue herringbone pattern”SIMILAR:designdecorationmotifmarking
- a model or design used as a guide in needlework and other crafts:“make a pattern for the zigzag edge”SIMILAR:samplespecimenswatch
VERB
patterns (third person present)
- decorate with a repeated design:“he was sitting on a soft carpet patterned in rich colors” · “the boxes are patterned with black and white chevrons”
- give a regular or intelligible form to:“the brain not only receives information, but interprets and patterns it”SIMILAR:shapeinfluenceformmodelfashion
I saw the similarities after the fact. As a person who is consistently in a state of feeling and experiencing the world around me, via emotions, I am terrified. I push the utter definition of being terrified to the pit of my gut, inhale and hold that single breath until my lungs burn. My ego says, “You are back where you started”. As my brain fires off alarms that I need to exhale and repeat, my spirit says, “She’s being reborn”. If that statement stands true than this is not a repeated pattern of exactness but a break in the mold. The verging of past and present and landing on the tracks that move me forward. My model may look the same with a bit of wear and tear from usage, yet my upgrades are immeasurable. The model that is me, was built with a lifetime warranty into a society that doesn’t understand sustainability. There is not a sense of urgency of what moments may come because we have adapted a nanosecond lifestyle. Some of us were programmed differently for the moment where our understanding of life and its possibilities needed to be remembered. Our user manuals were tossed with the box and packaging without ever even breaking the spine.
For me, patterns are decorative designs, that mesmerize my mind and keep my ADHD brain busy deciphering what may or may not be, until it gets bored. While walking through the chiropractic office in La Crosse where I worked, before the office opened, a feeling started lurching into my throat. I stopped midway through and instead of gulping it back down, I let it surface. If “awe fuck”, had a tangible sensation that sent up so much stomach acid that a whole bottle of antacids was required, that was what I was experiencing. A leather sofa used for patients is where I slowly sat for a moment to reflect. I felt immediate defeat, I felt like I was actually aspirating on air. I always arrived significantly earlier than anyone else and knew that I had “time” to sit in authenticity with this revelation. I had done the same exact thing after leaving my first wife.
Prior to my bariatric surgery, the only DDs in my life were my cup size, now it accounts for being divorced twice. My first ex-wife and I returned to the Midwest after living in North Carolina. There is a back story that is not significant right now. We ended up in Rochester with longtime friends of hers. She was a teacher that was starting the new school year in Rochester Public Schools. I was recovering from an extensive back surgery and ready to continue my massage career. Through a serendipitous moment, I found myself in a town called Dodge Center and after negotiations, I landed a space in a salon. My massage room was literally the room under a staircase, think Harry Potter. It could barely fit my table and my persons. I made it work. In another twilight zone moment, I was introduced to a chiropractor who was looking for a massage therapist in St. Charles, MN. What I did not realize was that while I was making all these moves, I was missing significant patterns in my marriage and the people in my circle. We landed in Rochester by the end of August by the week of Christmas I was heading to Des Moines alone for Christmas and would be returning to my apartment that I signed a lease for above the chiropractic clinic I worked out of. My boss was also my landlord. In addition, I still had my location in Dodge Center as well. By the first of the year, I was separated and in the process of a divorce.
As I zoomed my focus back to the then and now moment in La Crosse it was clear that I was repeating history. Yes, I was different with different resources, spouse, location etc. but the model number matched up. I gave myself a moment to let it sink in and recognize that all the signs were there that things were not as they seemed. This space of healing and wellness was the water cooler where my professional and personal life collided daily. As a practitioner I was adapting to being back amongst the public while I worked. As a person I was trying to keep my insides from spilling out and my outsides from “appearing” mean and unapproachable. I just wanted to do my work, under the terms agreed upon and make it through my last divorce. I had already sold the home I built and had been commuting back and forth between Lansing and La Crosse. My days were getting longer and sleep shorter. I was malfunctioning and worried my body would start to revolt. I was not that many months out from double knee replacements and my bariatric surgery. I know firsthand what stress does physiologically to a person. After decades of being in constant pain that part of my life had been permanently altered in my favor. There was nothing not even love that was going to change that. I was choosing me. I didn’t know which version I was saving but I knew I had to be relentless. I deserved the same investments I had been shelling out for years. Against my better judgement and with trauma man handling my emotions, I signed a lease. My employer was now also my landlord. I hold on to money like a strainer holds on to liquids. Money is a language that is foreign to me. I know this so whenever possible I place others in that role. 99% of the time I get fucked and burned. In business I would hire someone to help me. In relationships my partner would take on that role. In a nutshell, I am either sitting on a load of assets or zero assets exist. I can blame it on my ADHD, culture, lifestyle, environment etc. it doesn’t matter, I am still the responsible party.
As I sat on the leather sofa and the clocked ticked away, I would be losing my silence to arrival of both colleagues very soon. This epiphany was at my expense and was starting to explain the changes in the mood, relationship and energy of the environment. I had ignored spirits directive that my time in the area was coming to an end. I was trying everything to nail down long-term goals so that I could stay. I was drowning emotionally and financially. I had attempted to deal with my credit card debt on my own and absolutely wasted a significant amount of money. I was putting pieces into place that started resembling a drunk’n game of Jenga. I was not being stoic and avoiding asking for help, the outlets I was using were being criticized.
I saw certain patterns like choosing to fuck my way through my 2nd divorce much like I did my first one. It was a distraction, and I was mindful enough to stay safe with one exception. I used my other avenues like staying active and engaged with friends to find peace and balance. Palo was my main focus, and I was paying out the nose to keep us together in a safe space. I cannot convey enough that I will live out of my car before I get rid of him for something he has zero control over. The bells on the door entering the office ring and I have to wrap up my moment, check myself and carry on.
At that moment I wanted nothing more than NOT feel and recognize what I had done. Things were unraveling and literally falling apart. If my divorce was not caused by what it was it would have been just a woman dealing with a divorce, not the healing that was needed physically and emotionally as well. It’s never that simple. I was mourning one issue after another personally and professionally. I did not realize how much space I was holding until I couldn’t any longer. When shit hit the fan in the office it was evident that I had missed some patterns. Patterns repeated by the same person are essentially a significant fiber of their character. I had to make some tough decisions.
The evening after my office epiphany I took Palo for a drive. I deserved to recognize that I have positive patterns as well. I honestly would not be alive if all I ever did was repeat stupidity. I made myself acknowledge how this time around I figure it out sooner so that there won’t be a next timed. The decision to step away from everything I knew to relocate back to an environment that I swore to the higher powers that be I’d never return to was humbling not humiliating. I am not starting over. What I am not doing is allowing others to bully, violate, or force me to break my boundaries. Those are patterns that are worth repeating.
I own the duality that makes me who I am. I am responsible for my perspective and perception of the world around me. By allowing others to dictate any part of this I give them power and permission to treat me as they see fit. My empowerment comes in knowing that I can but not needing to but more so in recognizing when I need to take a step back and be better. I will lean into every edge, curve and version of me with openness. If patterns represent replication, it is up to me to determine what I will allow to repeat or not.