Dissolving a Marriage

Part 1

The first line in my book, The Toltec Path of Transformation, asks the question, "Have you ever had your life turned upside down in an instant?"

When I wrote that line it was a theory in my own life. But the week my book came out my life was turned upside down in a spectacular way; not in an instant, but in a series of instants that accumulated in a tearing of the fabric of my world.

Damn, I'm glad I wrote a book about change, because I have certainly needed it!

In the beginning of October I waved goodbye to my husband, best friend, beloved, business partner, teaching partner, and main support system as he drove away in his truck packed with his belongings to start a new life in Colorado. 

There is obviously backstory to that moment of his departure, a history that led to us having our last long hike and celebratory sushi meal together, a series of events that led to us saying goodbye to each other and to the form of our relationship.

One day I may write about those events. For now I am healing at deep levels of my being. I've been amazed at the magnitude of my own vulnerability, fragility, and grief. 

I've been in awe at how my community has supported and loved me through this transition. 

I've been aware that this moment in time, this transition is as precious and powerful and perfect as the moment of Raven and my weddings (we had three!), or of our teaching together over the years, or of our teamwork in running Toci. It is all part of a cycle of birth and death, of coming together and moving apart, of creation and dissolution. Life. 

I'm learning that dissolving a long-term relationship takes time and patience and great self-love. There are parts of me that are still in shock and disbelief that Raven left. There are parts of me that flip between being scared, sad, furious, overwhelmed, devastated, and wanting my friend back. And there are parts of me that are really happy for Raven as he settles into his new life, and I'm excited to see what he will create next. There are parts of me that are really happy for HeatherAsh as she settles into her new life, and I'm excited to see what she will create next. 

Sometimes the transition feels graceful and smooth and effortless, sometimes it feels like my heart has been run over repeatedly by a bus.

And through it all there have been so many gifts. I'm finding a strength inside of me that comes from being with my own process and deeply accepting myself, even when it is messy. Even when it is emotional. Even when my mind has an opinion of how the process should be going. Even when others are disappointed in me. I'm learning to give myself things that I had leaned on Raven to provide. I'm learning to let my friends and family hold me and support me when the waves of shock or fear or grief or anger wash over me. Even though I miss Raven, I love living alone, and I deeply love my life. I'm learning to get even bigger to hold all of myself in love and acceptance. 

I'm learning to let go of any stories and focus on what is arising within me to be witnessed, loved, and healed. Moment by moment, day by day. I'm wrapping myself in the immense gratitude I have for Raven and for the beginning, middle, and end of our marriage.

And that is my prayer for all of us humans: that we continue to support each other in releasing stories, opinions, judgments, and fears; not from a place of "you shouldn't have any stories" or "it is wrong to be judgmental." That is the old matrix, the one where we punish ourselves and each other for our experience. Instead, let's honor ALL aspects of ourselves and others, even the parts we don't like. Let's immerse ourselves in the healing salve and sparkly joy of gratitude. We are all so powerful, and we are also so fragile. Let's hold spaciousness for our hearts to expand past old hurts and fears, and lovingly invite change to unfold, like a new butterfly unfurling its wings for the first time. Let's embrace both the caterpillar, the cocoon, and the wet wings part of our process as much as we embrace the flight; because ALL of it is life.

Thanks for being with me on this amazing journey!

And two last shares; one of my favorite poems from Adrienne Rich; a reminder to release ourselves and others from boxes, definitions, and the past.

Delta

If you have taken this rubble for my past

raking though it for fragments you could sell

know that I long ago moved on

deeper into the heart of the matter

If you think you can grasp me, think again:

my story flows in more than one direction

a delta springing from the riverbed

with its five fingers spread

~ Adrienne Rich

And a writing that came into my inbox this morning, from a friend. 

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could. ~ Louise Erdrich

Today, like tomorrow and all days to come, I plan to spend licking apple nectar off my fingers and moving deeper into the heart of the matter... deeper into the sweetness of unconditional love, deeper into unconditional acceptance, deeper into unconditional healing, deeper into unconditional living.

Aging Fabulously

A few years ago I read an article that shifted how I viewed aging. The author interviewed 70 and 80 year olds who were actively involved in extreme sports/activities: everything from climbing the world's highest mountains to skiing to jumping out of airplanes.

They all shared their experiences of what helped them get out of bed each morning and continue to live their passions, despite the changes in their bodies.

One 85-year old man's advice was simple: "Cultivate your enthusiasm now. You are going to need it when you are my age."

Gracefully aging doesn't happen spontaneously; it is something we cultivate day by day, beginning at whatever age we are now. You don't have to be "old" to lay the foundation to age fabulously.

Here are some tips on aging fabulously, or just plain living fabulously:

Read inspirational stories and watch inspirational movies about aging, illness, and death. Don't avoid making friends with again, illness, and death, they are not your enemies, but reminders of the fragility and preciousness of life. They can teach you much that will bring you fully alive.

Set goals for yourself at 60, 70, 80, and 90. Who would you like to be? Let go of believing that you will remain 39 forever; and let yourself dream without limits of what you want to have accomplished or do at different markers in your life. Celebrate each birthday as another blessing. One woman I met did something outrageous for each birthday after she turned 70; at 75 she did a firewalk; the year before she had gotten a tattoo with her daughter. How might you celebrate getting older?

Cover all your mirrors for a week and bring your focus to feeling yourself from your core rather than through your eyes. Get to know your unique vibration as a sensation, rather than defining yourself by what you look like.

If your body hurts or tweaks, smile and breath into the area. Ask that area what it needs or what would support it. Bring more oxygen and awareness to the tight, painful, or difficult areas in your body.

Change your languaging.  Be curious and open about getting older rather than whining about it. It's going to happen no matter what; why not enjoy it? How you speak to yourself and others makes a huge difference.

Below are two inspirations I received via email from my mama (thanks, mom!); feel free to share others as you find them!

BANK ACCOUNT

A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with his hair fashionably combed and shaved perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.

As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window. I love it,' he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

Mr. Jones, you haven't seen the room; just wait.'

'That doesn't have anything to do with it,' he replied.

Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged ... it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. 'It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.

Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I'll focus on the new day

and all the happy memories I've stored away.. Just for this time in my life.

Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you've put in..

So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank

account of memories!

Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

1. Free your heart from hatred.

2. Free your mind from worries.

3. Live simply.

4. Give more.

5. Expect less.

from MARION P. DOWNS, DHS, DSc (Hon.)

Author of Shut up and Live!

How do some people, as they grow older, continue to lead happy, vigorous, event-filled lives, while others don’t? Meet Dr. Marion Downs. In her 94 years, she has...

Participated in a mini-triathlon (running, swimming and biking) at age 89.

Won Senior Olympics gold medals in tennis.

Achieved mandated hearing tests for more than 90% of US newborns when she was an audiologist in her 50s.

Retired -- often.

Here’s what she has to say...

It’s fun to be old. I can do almost anything I want to do. Nobody cares! But one thing I know -- to continue, I must take care of myself physically and mentally.

My “old age” got off to a great start. The day I turned 51, I stood at the top of a hill wearing ski gear that my kids had left in a closet, scared to barrel down that first slope. I turned to the instructor and said, “I can’t do this! It’s too steep. What should I do?” He said, “Shut up and ski! You know how.” I did? Yes, even though it was my first time, somehow I did. So I went.

Now, whenever life gets strange and I don’t know what to do next, I tell myself, “Shut up and live! You know how.”

Most of us are living longer than our parents did, with no guidelines to see us through those critical years. “Girls” in their 80s and younger claim I’m their role model and ask for my longevity secrets.

A few years ago, I noticed that youngsters in their 50s and 60s dared to write books about how to live to a ripe old age. Why not me? I know how! So I wrote a book, too.

MY PRIORITIES

My three children, 11 grandchildren and 24 great-grandchildren are 38 great reasons to stick around. But only I can take care of myself. And I do.

I believe in taking full responsibility for one’s own life. Stop blaming Grandpa. According to a report on aging from Harvard, our genes account for only about 25% to 35% of our longevity and 30% of our physiological changes. My parents died at 72. Not me.

Maintaining a vigorous old age requires determination. My number one priority: Daily exercise.

Every morning I stretch for 15 to 20 minutes. Back stretches keep me free of pain from a serious back problem decades ago. Neck and shoulder stretches keep my head high, shoulders back. Daily leg stretches prevent the old folks’ shuffle, caused by short, weak leg muscles. Striding is better.

At home, I do an hour of strengthening exercises (with weights, stretchy exercise bands, on a large balance ball and with a soccer ball) three times a week and one to two hours of aerobics (mostly running, but I love my three-wheel bicycle, too) four times a week. My trainer, whom I call the Marquis de Sade, protects me from harm but keeps me hopping. I see him periodically for consultations about increasing the number of repetitions of an exercise, trying a new exercise regimen or device and general advice and help.

Exercise is play, too. Tennis has been my game since I retired from full-time work at 68. I prefer it over golf because it involves more activity. I play two hours three times a week in a league with changing partners.

MY SO-CALLED DIET

I’m no dietitian. But I look pretty good for a nonagenarian, and people ask for my nutritional secrets.

What I eat: Foods high in protein and low in carbohydrates. Lots of fruit and as many veggies as I can swallow.

That regimen keeps me lean, clean, healthy and strong.

Another essential food group: Each morning I put a milk chocolate turtle on the kitchen counter. I admire it all day and eat it at night.

MY KIND OF FUN

When I turned 90, I decided to try skydiving. My family tried to stop me. Ha! Strapped to an instructor, I did a 3,000-foot free fall at 120 miles per hour. The landing was nice. We glided in. I sat down on a sand pile. For my 95th, next January, I’m doing it again.

My bridge games, doing crosswords in pen -- who knows if they help my brain stay healthy? I keep active and hope for the best.

The Impossible is Possible

On Saturday a little girl gave me two precious gifts. The first gift was a statement. The second gift was two dollars.

I'm still glowing from both of them.

This story starts at the end of May, when I had an inspiration to do one last firewalk in Austin before the Texas summer heat began to melt everything in its path.  And it ends Saturday night after a young woman walks on fire for her first time.

I love firewalking; it is a catalyst for huge transformation. Whether you walk or not, when you watch someone walk over 1300 degree coals one of the first agreements we all learn: that fire burns; dissolves, and suddenly every agreement you have ever made is more easily changed. Firewalking has been used for thousands of years by people all over the planet to increase energy and focus and to heal both self and community.

There is something so primal about people around a fire, whether that fire is a bonfire or a bed of coals ready to be walked on. There is a deep nourishing that happens when we connect to the element of fire, and when we do this in a group that nourishment is increased ten-fold.

And sometimes this nourishment of connecting to fire and being supported by a group, like we did Saturday night as we cheered and celebrated each person that walked across the coals, sparks a transformation that changes a life.

Towards the end of the evening we invited people to walk across the coals in silence, after saying a word of intent. A young girl, who had walked with a couple of adults the first time, stepped in front of the fire by herself. We all held our breath as she spoke her word to the circle: happiness. And as she walked across the coals she was surrounded by 65 people saying "happiness" back to her.

During the shares after the firewalk she said one of my new favorite statements:

"My grandfather sometimes tells me that not everything is possible. But now I know he is wrong."

And that is the lesson for all of us to digest: the impossible IS possible.

Later I asked for donations, and she walked up to me and handed me two rumpled dollar bills. She was radiating like a little sun, full of joy and wonder. "This is for you," she told me. "I had an amazing time."

I so treasure those two dollar bills, and knowing that she is going to go into the world holding that she can do anything she chooses.

May we all remember that we are so much more than the limits we place on ourselves, and that regardless of what anyone tells you, the impossible IS possible.

Weeds, Barren Ground, and Starting Again

It was with shock that I opened up my blog this morning and realized that the last blog I wrote was last year. "How is that even possible?" I wondered. I've been meaning to get back to a regular blogging schedule, thinking about it often, and coming up with ideas of what to write about. It has been very alive in my head, but moving our business, moving our house, and writing a proposal for a book all took precedence, and the blog writing remained a distant fantasy.

There are many times in our life that we have the thought of something we want to do, from washing the dog to getting a new job, from eating more consciously to meditating in the mornings. Taking our desires and dreams and making them into tangible realities means we need to move from thinking into acting. The thinking part may set the stage for planting the seed, but the growth comes from watering and nourishing and tending your seeds of intent over time.

If you don't tend to your inner or outer gardens what often grows is a plethora of weeds that crowd out what you've planted. Those weeds are the untamed thoughts, distractions, fears, and places of struggle within you. Or sometimes lack of attention to your dreams and goals leads to no growth at all.

The solution? Embrace the weeds or tell yourself the truth when things aren't flourishing. When you turn around and discover that an area you planted long ago is wild with unintended growth or is barren, smile. Take a breathe in this moment and time. Judging, deflecting, or moaning about the past will not clear the field. Go back and clarify what your original intent was when you planted the seed, and what your actions have been since then.  What do you need to shift or realign?

One seed I planted last year was to regularly write in my blog and share my thoughts, experiences, and explorations. The reality is that the garden of my blog has been barren from lack of attention.

Happily, if when you plant a seed of intent, that seed will wait for the right conditions to grow. Sometimes the right conditions happen by grace; space and motivation suddenly arrive like the sunshine following a rainy day. And sometimes we are invited to cultivate the right conditions through our actions.

A sudden, strong inspiration to write in my blog appeared last week out of the blue, and to continue to foster right conditions I kept my blogger page open so I could tap in and write during breaks from working on my book. And so grace (the inspiration) and cultivating the right conditions (creating the space to write over time) came together to produce a new flower in my garden, that I now share with you.

What supportive conditions can you cultivate in your life today to help you step back towards fostering a forgotten or buried intent?

There is always space and time to return to an intent, no matter how neglected or forgotten.


Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving — it doesn't matter,
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow a hundred times,
Come, come again, come. ~ Rumi