My cell phone lit up suddenly.
The phone was on silence as usual, but I happened to see the screen glow. At that moment I was staring out the bleak dark January window fourteen years ago, not unlike the one I looked out today.
I leaned slowly to the phone and saw from caller ID the name of my estranged husband.
My heart jumped a little.
He had filed for divorce almost 2 years before, we lived in separate houses, but I had not responded month after month after month to the paperwork.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it and sign the document consenting to divorce.
It seemed so tragic. I had loved this man so much. I had always pictured him until “death do us part”. He was almost five years older and I sometimes imagined he’d die first….and me by his side.
(Weird little future flash: he did die first, and I was by his side a few hours before and a few hours after. Even though we were divorced and we were both remarried. So you never know what anything means for the future, do you? He will always be one of the most important people in my life.)
I answered the incoming call.
He wanted to go out to dinner.
Something I could hear in his voice, someone I knew so well.
He said he had a coupon for a restaurant downtown, and thought of me.
Was I being asked out on a…..date?
I didn’t show much emotion.
This is what I had wanted desperately, but now it seemed almost like too much water had flowed under the bridge. He had another relationship that tanked. He had been dating. He had moved from one rental house to another. He was feeling some regret.
I had just started….barely….to feel like I could enjoy my own company for five minutes without remembering “my husband left me” or “I’m separated”. I had signed up for qigong classes, female empowerment classes, dancing.
Most importantly, I had friends to do The Work with.
I had found out that if I questioned my thinking, my panicked mood shifted from terror to calm by having someone ask me the four questions, and finding turnarounds.
Stunning.
Nothing else changed, only my perceptions and what I was believing.
The School for The Work almost 2 years before had planted self-inquiry into my heart and mind, and when rage, betrayal, panic, sadness and grief came along…it was only a matter of time before I sat down with paper, or texted someone, to do The Work with me.
I was calmer. Just a little. I was sleeping through the night finally.
I said “yes”.
I also said I’d meet him there at the appointed hour. Not agree to have him pick me up and go there together.
On the Saturday night of the famous dinner out (in my world), something I had wished for so desperately, I got dressed up.
I cared. I felt hopeful. I put on mascara.
I thought all the inner angst and grief and heartbreak might be able to be talked through, shared.
I never felt very good at talking. (I’m still probably better at writing than talking).
But as we shared a meal in a booth in a dark rainy wintery evening in Seattle, and no in-depth conversation unfolded or even started, I grew more aware that what I wanted was not in this man, or in the dreams of an intact relationship.
I had questioned the thought 1000 times “I need him to come back to me” or “he abandoned me” or “this shouldn’t be happening”.
And right before me, these beliefs suddenly felt untrue.
At a certain moment, right in the middle of the food and the meal, with this man I had spent 16 years with across from me, with whom I had two children that would have been thrilled to have us remain together, something felt….done.
Over.
Unable to move into a deeper level.
Maybe I could have questioned that thought. It didn’t occur to me at the time.
He talked, and talked, and talked about his job. His boss, his co-workers, company policies, the latest business deals I hadn’t heard about for a long time.
Not one word did he speak of more authentic, deep reflection about this honest moment.
I wanted to cry “What happened to us??!!”
I wanted to talk about where we stood right then.
Something deeper. All that inner Byron Katie work, all the self-reflection and growth and adventure. All the sleepless nights.
I wanted him to say “How are you in there? Are you OK?”
I noticed I myself said nothing, though.
And I noticed I could wonder….do I really want him to ask me deeply how I am? Do I really want to put so much weight on this relationship “working” (code word for staying together)?
I didn’t want to grab for something that wasn’t present anymore. I didn’t want to try, to be so afraid, to feel so desperate, so feel so full of angst and sadness.
What I wanted was not over there, across the table from me.
Wow.
When we left, I went to sit in the driver’s seat of my little car. I held still a moment, my car keys on my lap.
I could find the turnaround.
Maybe this was just plain going the way it was going, without my vote.
And maybe, just maybe, that was OK. Or at least going to be OK, later.
I sensed that I had no idea what my future was, or where I was going, or what would happen with love or romance in my life…..and what did happen wasn’t what I would have ever wanted or ever imagined in my life.
But I got it. Stop fighting. Stop reaching.
Rest. Accept what is.
That week, I signed the divorce papers that had been gathering dust, and the proceedings moved forward.
I’d like to say that I never looked back again at how we might have reconciled, and all that seemed so unspoken. I’d like to say I felt very razor clear.
But no.
There were stressful thoughts, and stressful dramas in my own mind, and stressful imaginings, and dreadful heartbreak.
I could question my thinking, though.
Sweet relief.
And, something was nudged that day out of the stuckness and waiting and withholding and wondering and putting all my attention on HIM, HIM, HIM.
I saw more clearly how I looked at what I thought was necessary for happiness through a straw. All roads pointing to this dear man, and marriage, and a fantasy.
What if instead of being a horrible personal tragedy, this story was not as terrible as I had believed?
What I see now is how I discovered, and still continue discovering to this day, how much that man offered me in my life.
He helped me break down my demands and expectations about love, life, mating, support, security, romance, future, intimacy, speaking truth, honesty, grabbing, wanting and fear.
I believed that the worst that could happen when it came to my marriage, was that it would end in divorce.
What happened when I believed that thought?
Nightmares. My whole world collapsed (I thought) even though I had more quiet time, I had my own place, I added enrichment to my life, I started playing music again, I discovered a career, I found out I liked to work (!)
Who was I without this story: “this relationship must stay together!”?
Without demanding it be any way at all, it simply moved towards divorce.
Turned around: the best thing that could happen was my marriage ended.
How could this be just as true, or truer?
There is a list.
But most of all, I am grateful beyond measure to that human being, that man, for his unknowing assistance in helping me become a better version of myself.
I became someone who was “forced” to find her way to earn a living. Someone who met a new husband who is very different. Someone who can survive the worst that could happen.
Not just survive, but thrive.
Astonishing, even to this mind.
Grateful for the one who broke my heart, so it could grow bigger, wider, gentler, freer.
If you have a relationship where you still feel a sting (or tornado) of pain about What Happened….
….come to retreat starting this Thursday. We meet 4 days in a row, and then skip a week and reunite on Sunday, February 14th. Yup. Valentine’s Day.
The hours are 8-11am Pacific Time/ 4-7pm UK for all five sessions.
Who are we without our stories about breaking up, romance, wanting, hunting for ‘the one’, fighting, loneliness?
We are celebrating Valentine’s Day with the one we cherish, support, feel gratitude towards and love the most: ourselves. Life.
Married, partnered, conflicted, divorced, broken-up, separated, single. All are welcome to this “Relationship” Retreat.
Join us here.
Much love,
Grace