Divorce

A Story by AB

A journey to life through the birth of oneself. An observation that all transitions share a similar pattern.

One thing I know is that I'd don't know how to write a book. Oh, I love words. I may even have a talent for words, but short of a short story, I am at a loss. There were things, even a month ago, I would tell you I do know how to do. And those things, as a fact, seems less clear with every hour. So in the recognition of that decrease, opens the possibility that the things I was certain I didn't know, indeed could be possible.

So here we go, dear reader. With Rumi's words as our compass, “We are all just walking each other home”, we can begin. If my path to home seems like your truth, take my hand. I'd love the company.

Divorce. The word sits, owning it's negative angles. It holds no intrinsic value. It exists cold on the page, almost daring you to take umbrage with its presence. Separation, well, not so much. Separation wants you to believe that is is less final, innocent and with no demands. Think September, going to school....see how Separation leads you on. Sure, you'll be away more, but don't you worry, things will still be the same when you return. Here's the secret separation is hiding. Things may be the same when you return, but Darlin', YOU will be different. Maybe while you are away you'll learn something new that will help you on your journey, but in all likelihood, one of two things will occur. You will either decide to become a new shape so that you can make yourself fit in, as uncomfortable and unauthentic as that may be, or you will deny who you are to your partner and they will attempt to fit to you. In the avoidance of pain, it is pain beyond measure you will have found.....even caused. Separate from separation. The real work is ahead. And it will be in this labor that you will be born.

I've birthed five children, and by far, the most difficult birth I've had was my own. Conception began, as do they all, with an intimate dance. My dance was with Spirit. The close proximity, the flirting with things not of this world; I stared down death, gazing forlornly into his obsidian eyes. I challenge you now. I challenge you, not in my old age, but at this juncture were my body still listens to my commands, yet my mind has began to ripen in wisdom, come on Death, show me who you are! Reveal who I am. And so the cells began to divide. Growth seemed random, but to the right eye, there was order. Early on, before most anyone could recognize, the heart began to beat.

The sickness began. Something seemed amiss. Wouldn't you think I could identify this, having felt it so many times before? Third eye closed. Normalcy Bias digging her heels in the terra firma. Do the dishes, mop the floors, drive the car, close your ears, be obedient. But still it grew. In time people noticed. Some said, “Don't you see the life you have? How could you want more?” Quietly, deep within, I'd say with my smallest voice, “Can't you see this is growing on it's own? It is no choice.”

Growth happened in way that astonished me. Every day I'd have to check my balance. It was never the same. Yoga put a salve on my bleeding equilibrium. Larger and larger I became within. Then one day labor started.

Oh, I understand this. I've done this before. Dips and waves, peaks and valleys.....WAIT!!!! That's bullshit! In the absence of Fear, labor looks this way, but in fear, well in that place, labor is horror show. A nightmare of falling and waking, falling and waking, the sweat and panic that accompany it, and no one can predict how long it will last. And that is the uncertainty that feeds Fear. Fear loves you to try and predict, because she knows prediction is impossible. And the realization of impossibility gives her additional power.

This is different. Somehow, this time, I know. Fear, you cannot be my midwife for this birth. So in her absence, Truth arrived. Truth is unpretentious. She knows she belongs. She is. And in that support labor becomes birth.

WAIT......You're forgetting something! TRANSITION. Labor was hard, was it? You can't go on? You're tired? Guess you should have thought of that before the dance! Every bone must be broken to be reset, every muscle pulled and stretched and all you can do is pray that there will be something left when Transition has had his way with you.

Slowly you begin to stretch. Truth gently places her hand on you and loosens you just a bit more. Truth hurts, but she is helping the birth. Open.

You have arrived. The destination is clearly at hand. Infancy. This is the time when skin to skin contact is essential. Deeply connecting into the eyes of the one who made this passage with you grounds you to safety. Often you will need to return to the arms of that person, gaining warmth and seeking safety. After this extended gestation the body shocks at the feeling of the air, the cold of the night, the volume of the world. Soon, you may delight in this, but now it is the struggle to find room in your aquatic lungs for this earth-side oxygen cocktail. In quick time you will forget the tightness of the womb, but never how constricted you felt, how you recognized long ago that you had outgrown this place and how by staying even one more day brought you closer to parish. Often, even hourly, you cry, hoping that Parent hears you. Your needs and your wants in these days are the same. In those arms you will remember how to breath. With each inhale the world seems more secure, with each exhale the body releases into a place of strength.

Destination is but an illusion; a snippet of time that offered a false rest. It will be a blissful memory, and because of our nature, soon the pain that brought you here will fade into the deepest depth of subconscious passage, only to be recalled should ever there be a return to the dance.

Autonomy, the feeling of self. Whether or not you choose this independence, it is here. Fear, is that you again? Courage, too, accompanied you to this place. You come to realize that though something is out of sight, it still exists. Sometimes, well, often, you need reassurance. Slowly Faith emerges, and you, my love, are walking on you own, but in the deep knowledge that you are never really alone.

What way will you choose? Path presents herself as a maze. You cannot see far enough ahead to know, but Knowledge is waiting at the end, in her omnipresent way, assuring that whatever direction is chosen, there she will be. And although she wears a different colored coat at each finish, her fabric is unchanged. With Faith by your side, the first step will be taken, and Indecision will fade.

The story's predictability rocks you like the soothing sound of a mama's lullaby. Remember, though, do not fall back asleep. I know you are weary and the cot seems warm, but the lessons are about to begin in a more formal way. Practice your letters, add things up, subtract. Most of all, be aware. Life's school has opened the door. You must do this. Attendance is mandatory. Remember to own your education, to follow your heart's guidance, to not drop out. Thank you for the dance. Thank you for walking me home.