we have this tiny little book called, "how to love."
one night my 10 year old decided he wanted to read to me and chose that book. he read the first page out loud about our hearts being like a river. after he finished reading it he said, "whoa mom."
we sat and read as many more pages as we could until we were so filled with new thoughts and ideas about love that we had to stop to process.
on november 22nd i walked into a court room with my husband of 18 years and we agreed to end our marriage in front of a judge and lawyers and a whole lotta strangers who i was terrified to cry in front of.
on february 22nd the state of rhode island will officially declare us divorced.
we had our first date on april 2nd, set up by a friend for a coffee date since he knew we were both inside of separations. neither of us were truly healed enough to take on a brand new relationship.
but we ended up kissing on the couch soon after that first date, our mouths were starving for the love of the other. i loved him immediately. and we are so unlikely for the other.
the business man meets the woman with tattoos and crazy hair down the hall one day for coffee and their lives are forever changed.
and now i am in the opposite. i am learning about money, and fear and patience and compassion.
after a year of having left my house, i am returning to it almost untouched by my absence, so that i may leave it again. i just got my dresser. after a year.
slowly i am leaving my house. and it is devastating. the opposite is now my awareness and my movement.
before november 22nd came i didn't feel the opposite. i was sad and in auto pilot. i was learning how to be a mom in a new way. i was high and low and wanting to be loved more than i have ever wanted anything.
the opposite is a place of awe and almost a sense of reverence for the instability you can be inside of and still function.
because you decided you wanted something.
and now it is.
and now you are re-learning everything.
when we first separated he would bring me groceries and wash the dishes each time he would come over. i would leave a dinner in his fridge. we struggled to be apart even after we knew it was time.
everything we had ever done included the other in some way. and now we were separate.
i couldn't take my dresser. i couldn't think about what to do with wedding pictures or dresses or old journals with the record of the past inside of them.
he will be 11 years old on june 26th. he will be a child of divorce as i was, as so many of us were.
i pray that the love his father and i gave to him the moment we first held him after a crazy birth, will never be apart from him. that he will understand our love is like that river and our hearts have now expanded to include new loves into our lives.
he has his first crush. he adores her. his thoughts include her every day.
he is now understanding how to love like that river, receiving and embracing and transforming.
how to love.
"the desire to understand ourselves and to understand life is a deep thirst. there's also the deep thirst to be loved and to love."
on february 23rd i will walk inside of a new understanding of myself. of what i am capable of. of how i feel sorrow and shame and joy and love.
i am inside of the immense river, transforming. i am looking towards my next becoming. i haven't met her yet, i am still saying good-bye to a past self while thirsting to understand my now.
i am inside of the awareness of the opposite of my wantings.
the days when taking a shower feels like an accomplishment. and when you remind yourself, again, that joy is all the feelings.
all of them.