I had this epic blog and post planned for my recent trip to Philly. Obviously, I was going to do this from the Rocky steps. I had laid out the shots and drafted the words in my mind.First, I would take a picture showing the view from the bottom and say something like, “This was my view on life a few years ago.” Then I would take another picture, looking out from the top of the steps and caption it victoriously, “and this is my view now!” Woohoo, me! I am so awesome!
Yeah. That’s not exactly how it went down.
To be honest, I started out second guessing the second photo with the view from the top because life is really not like that. Right? You reach what you think is going to be the top only to realize that you still have further to go. It’s never ending. You could look at this either as a stairway to hell or you can choose to look at it as if there is always room to grow and that there are always opportunities to deepen your relationship with yourself, with God and with those you love.Because I had already been having these nagging self-criticisms about the “I made it!” photo, I was not at all surprised when it totally didn’t turn out that way.See, what happened was that when I asked the concierge at the hotel how to get to the Rocky steps, he said it was EASY. All I had to do was go five blocks up and take a left on Benjamin Franklyn Parkway. Easy, right?Did I mention that it was snowing? Heavily? And you know I’m from Texas, right? Like, I’ve literally never been out in snow like this in my entire life. I ask the concierge if I should walk or take a cab and he said it was a great walk if I was up for it. I set out in the heavily falling, pelt you in the face snow so that I could walk five blocks, take a left and arrive at the Rocky steps.Well, of course, the concierge did not include the additional 1.5 miles or so that I had to walk in the heavily falling, pelt you in the face snow after I turned left. Nope. He didn’t.But I persisted. Much in the same way that I persisted in my life these last few years, which also never seemed to go as planned and took way longer than I ever in my wildest dreams expected it would take.I did take a few beautiful shots of the snow and it was truly magnificent. I was cold and a little scared of getting lost or mugged but I was also in awe of the beauty. At one point, two grown men walking near by burst out into Christmas carols. It was surreal and epic and totally unexpected. (Again, just like life.)
However, after taking a few shots and trying to rely on my phone for walking directions, you guessed it, my battery started to run low. “No,” I thought to myself. “That would be just so sad and so cliché! I have to make it!” I started trying to figure out what I would do if my phone died. Would I come back in a cab? Would I ask a stranger to take a photo and send it to me? Would I actually give my number to a stranger?!As I approached the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which is the building with the famous Rocky steps by the way, I started to get really nervous. There was the incredible Washington Monument fountain that was covered in snow. I wanted to take a picture of one of the bronze buffalos so bad but I opted to save my battery. There was also a life sized bronze statue of Rocky himself but I decided it would have to wait. I need my epic shots for my super and powerful inspirational post about how I had overcome adversity and you can, too!Well, friends, I took two shots from the bottom of the Rocky steps. One of which I actually liked. Then my phone died. I stood there helplessly for a bit. Wondering again whether I had the nerve to ask one of the other tourists taking photos to take a photo of me. I eventually decided that I would just climb the stairs to the top and then make some sort of decision.
Up, up, up I went counting the 72 inspirational steps until I reached the very top. There was a young couple there posing and taking pictures of one another. I thought about asking them but that would have been a photo of me with my arms raised in victory and then I remembered the words of Leonard Coen’s Hallelujah, “And love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah.”Instead of asking anyone to take my picture, I just turned and looked outward at the steadily falling snow. It was so quiet and so utterly peaceful and it broke my heart open with appreciation for every stupid, painful, and glorious thing that had happened in my life to lead me to this perfect moment.I gazed out at the Washington monument fountain and the handful of tourists and the city and the trees and the snow. I leaned against the stone column and rested my temple against is smooth, cold surface and I thought to myself, “Yes. This is what it’s really like.”There is no reaching the end. There is no victory lap for the awakening warrior or for the woman who has lost everything she thought defined her to betrayal and divorce. But there is a quiet joy when you pause in your own private and triumphant moment with God and breathe in the momentary peace and breathe out joy and gratitude.I stood there overwhelmed with it all. Grateful that my phone had died and that moment would be one just between me and the Beloved.I can tell you about it and you can imagine it but it will always be uniquely mine, which is a perfect way to describe the path of an awakening woman. I share it with you because I know that moment waits for you, too, if you say, “Yes” to the path and to the awakening.Right now, you may not feel like you said, “Yes.” Maybe you feel like your partner’s betrayal or addiction made that decision for you. I believe that you are an awakening warrior with great work to do. Making the choice to find the meaning in your suffering is what will allow you to transform your heartbreak and your grief into GOLD.I know you feel like a victim and like you have lost everything that made you who you are. I am here to tell you that your epic life and your great work has just begun. But you have to choose it. You have to say, “YES,” to the call, to the awakening. And we are not meant to do it alone. We all need a tribe. During my dark days, I had a whole group of women that I call my “choir of angels” who supported me.
You can be happy again. I promise. Your heart break is your opportunity. The choice is always up to you.
Are you ready to heal your heart, feel your grief and transform your pain into something beautiful? Then send me a note. Let’s make a date to share a cup of tea and talk – on the house, of course.And speaking of on the house…I am almost forgot! I’m looking to speak with a few good women for some grounded research I’m doing. I’m always working to improve my sacred offerings to better meet your needs. If you are a woman who has experienced betrayal trauma or if you are the partner or ex-partner of a sex addict, then I would LOVE to speak with you. Whether you are divorced, divorcing or feel like you are stuck in indecision purgatory, I want to hear from you. So…
I am offering 30-minutes of free coaching with me in exchange for answering a few questions about your experience. This offer is extremely limited and is only available to the first seven women who say, “Yes!”
I’m not kidding. I want to talk with YOU. There are no strings attached and I am not going to try to sell you anything. If you have thought about working with me for awhile, this is your opportunity to see what it’s like while being of service to my mission and other women like you. Email me at jenni@jennirochelle.com and let’s do this. 🙂
Until then, no matter what, I am sending you so much love.
Xoxo, Jenni