I am humbled by the path that has been laid before me today.

Blessed that I am able to choose to walk down it.

And grateful that I do not have to walk alone.

“One of the most important gifts
of any relationship is the gift of self-awareness.”

-Marianne Williamson

Admittedly, I have been very nervous about getting my first DWP bill since the mandatory conservation rates and cut backs went into effect June 1st. Going from not thinking about my water usage to being inundated with information on what, when, where and how I should be using it caused a huge shift in my perception of this finite resource.

No water flowing down the waterslide (somehow the kids still made it fun), no luxurious bubble baths, and dying grass are now our reality – along with the occasional holler up the stairs, “You’ve been in the shower too long! Turn the water off!” Add to that the heightened awareness over every leaking faucet, toilet, hose connection, and low pool water, and suddenly, brief water anxiety attacks have become commonplace.

As we live with the dead lawns, the heightened ability to hear water running, and the final realization that “Oh my God” we actually do live in a desert, I am flummoxed and fascinated that surrounding counties are not experiencing the same reality as Angelenos. I have witnessed lush green grass, flowing fountains, wet clean concrete and (gasp!) overflowing bubble baths in all other areas of the southland. Water envy takes coveting thy neighbors’ goods to a whole new level.

But the coveting came to a halt when I opened my bill. It was the lowest my DWP bill has ever been in the ten summers I have spent in my home. Last year, during a 59 day summer billing period, our daily average water usage was 1,762 gallons. This year the same 59 days had a daily average of 431 gallons. Seriously, that’s 25% of what we used last year. A 75% decrease! You’d think there’d be some sort of credit bonus for that, but no, just a much smaller bill than normal. And with my tight budget, this was the first time in a long time I smiled and celebrated a bill (while it was not a 75% decrease in my bill’s total due, the bill was significantly smaller than I had expected or anticipated).

So, does this make me want to loosen up on my conservation? No. Rather, it makes me proud that my kids and I have found a way to work within it – cutting deeply our usage and not having suffered in any way for it. Sacrifices, sure (did I mention the bubble baths?). But as we are all heading toward conservation of our finite resources and someday as a community and individually toward sustainability, it motivates us to do more. So with the money not spent on a green lawn and flowing waterslide this summer, we are talking about starting our own vegetable garden. Which will help sustain our family in more ways than one.

1. PONY league stands for Protect Our Nations Youth. So why is this the age group when they stop wearing face guards on their helmets? Have you ever seen a 13 year-old hurl a ball 70mph at your son? Not feeling so protected.

2. Cheap and Inexpensive are extremely relative.

3. It is easier to buy boys expensive clothes because they only want to shop once a year and even then they only want a few cool t-shirts, some jeans with different pockets and a couple pairs of shorts. They think in terms of having enough clothes to get through 1 week. Fascinating.

4. No matter what your story, someone else can ALWAYS top it.

With a bit of trepidation, I admit that I do not know how to be a divorcee. I have no roll model – my parents are still together after 44 years of marriage. I don’t have any close friends that are divorced. There are no easily accessible clubs or groups to join. It’s not like when I became a first time mom and glommed on to other new moms, formed our own tribe, and shared in the experience of raising kids, husbands and growing as women and parents together. No, quite the contrary. It’s very isolating – like searching for a new tribe, but one that does not seem to exist.

Months before my marriage was officially over, I stopped wearing my wedding ring. Initially, my story was that it on occasion had caused a rash on my skin (which is true). I am now willing to admit that on some deeply painful level it was a symbolic stab at Keith. But truly, more than either reason, it was my way of making an “I belong to no one but me” statement. Eventually, I found a personal power in my naked left ring finger and, through many triumphs and as many failures, a desperately needed new sense of self.

Moments of ease and awkwardness seemed to accompany the absence of rings on that ring finger. Unwelcome insinuations, advances, and questions as to my marital status by complete strangers were commonplace. Being the odd woman out by not wearing one was blatant – if only to me. And choosing on occasion to wear another type of ring altogether on that finger and having that observed, commented on, and judged made me feel, personal power or not, that I just could not win.

But when I was ready, new people, new opportunities and yes, new rings started showing up in my life. Kamden, my son, found a darling little ring on the soccer field and gallantly presented it to me (yes, we tried to find the rightful owner but could not). Andrea, a friend of a friend, had sent rings to be sold at a gold party and when she was not offered what she wanted for them, gave them to me as a gift simply because I had greatly admired them. And a brief visit to a little store while on vacation prompted the purchase of a little ring by me for me – one guaranteed not to give me a rash. Suddenly, I had four rings representing the love of my child, of my friends, and yes, of myself.

In a moment of personal solidarity, I put all four on my naked left ring finger. I wore them all that day. And the next. And the next. I witnessed some from my tribes old and new noticing them. New people I meet still glance at my finger and see that it is full – this is such an odd social ritual, really. But none of it matters anymore. I love them. I love what they represent. I love who gave them to me. And I finally love myself enough not to care what my ring finger status means to anyone but me.

I am now committed to that which is most important in my life – my kids, my friends and family, and me. With these rings, I wed me, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, I will honor and love myself all the days of my life. I do know how to love. And, it’s not like I can ever divorce myself.

“One today is worth two tomorrows.”

-Benjamin Franklin