
A year and a half ago I sent out an e-mail to my closest friends and family members telling them I had separated with R.. I told R. through tears, but very clearly that I loved him and I knew that he loved me, but I couldn’t be in a relationship with him or be in contact with him at all unless he was in recovery. As we were hugging and saying goodbye I was sobbing and he was saying to me “you’ll see me again, you’ll see me again.”
Nice to hear, but I couldn’t count on that. I’ve been looking back through notebooks and messages I wrote to myself - one of them says “I have to assume this separation is permanent.” I’ve been trying to foster a spirit of openness, leaving the door open to reconciliation if I ever did hear from him. And I’ve been praying to God and with my closest friends that I would be set free, that I wouldn’t be stuck in this grief, that I would move forward with my life. As I was talking to my Spiritual Director one time about grieving, wanting to “let my life speak” and at the same time wanting to remain open to peace between us she looked at me and firmly said “Emily, you’re never going to hear from him again.”
Two weeks ago R. sent me a message, told me he was in recovery, and we met this week for tea. Twice.
I’m not writing this post to say I was vindicated. I’m writing to say she was right to say that to me, there was divine wisdom in her statement, and it was exactly what I needed to hear at the time to keep moving. When I shared that story with R. this past week he shook his head yes up and down emphatically and said “you know she wasn’t wrong. I have never done this before and if you told me two weeks ago that this would be happening and it would be like this - I wouldn’t have believed you.”
It's not bitterness or hyperbole when I say I feel my life was saved when I separated from R. I was a shaking mess riding along on the crazy bus grasping at things for security that could do nothing to save me, R., or our relationship - including couples counseling.
When I stood still in my love for him and let go of trying to figure out what the hell was going on I felt an inflow of many, many people and their Wisdom, comfort, and strength that was waiting on the periphery for me to do just that - to open my hands and be willing to receive what they had to offer and save the only life I could save. I don’t have the words to describe how surrounded I felt, how I could be so f*ing heartbroken, angry, and despondent and feel the trust and certainty in the people around me who were sharing their stories, their prayers, their love for me and for R.. I could see and feel clearly the Truth they were telling me. And the unbelievable timing and access to so many different sources of comfort and strength which were planted in my life, in some cases years before, without my knowing that I would ever need them.
There are a couple of people in particular I’ve thought of several times in the past year and a half and especially these past two weeks. An addiction specialist and an intervention specialist. Both of them said things to me that I can recall as if I had the conversations yesterday. “You’re here at the intervention class thinking we’re gonna talk about the addict. Well we’re going to spend 75% of the class talking about you. Here’s the things you can do - learn everything you can about addiction and stop talking to the addict about it. Start taking care of yourself. Get off the crazy bus. Get on another bus and ride along side. [Using his hand to demonstrate, elbow bent, fingers up in the air like the sign for tree] It’s like you’re living on a mobile, connected to the addict by string, and every time the addict shakes, you shake. You’re shaking like a leaf. Stop it. Cut yourself off and drop to the elbow. Stay down there and if nothing happens, be still, in about a year you’ll notice a change. If the mobile stops shaking, if everyone else gets off the crazy bus, the addict will get tired and drop too.” In about a year. I went to that class in January 2009. It was like going to church! I could not keep quiet I was nodding and mm hmmm-ing and bittersweetly laughing recognizing myself and my craziness. I loved my Al-Anon group, but this 1 hour class was like having a mainline put in. I couldn’t get enough. I’ve lived off of those words and others words and wisdom for the past year knowing that R. could have died before he got well. That’s a harsh, painful reality. I know of two people this year who did die from this disease.
I couldn’t help, but keep fostering an openness to reconciliation. These past 18 months I’ve been having a conversation with R. in my head, in my heart, out loud to myself, in prayer, and through my dreams. And I’ve been praying for Freedom and for God to guide my steps to follow my deepest longing for my life, to not be stuck. This slug has been moving this past year and a half. I spent 5 weeks in California this summer, the bulk of it at Mercy Center participating and completing an internship in the Art of Spiritual Direction. I’ve never felt so aligned and unfastened in my life thus far. And I’m currently preparing to co-lead a 5-day Academy in February, I’ll preach my first sermon on the topic given to me - Begin Again. My life did go on. I was not left where I was found. And if you’re reading this blog it’s very likely that you walked alongside me in many ways, shapes, and forms.
You are my cloud of witnesses.
As I’ve been talking with people before and after the tea times with R.. I’ve heard and recognized your hesitant joy, your amazement, your caution, and your concern.
As I stand at this crossroad I think I have two choices. One, close the door on further contact with R. and walk away from possible heartache. Two, continue to walk this road with my eyes open, not knowing where it’s headed, with my eyes on Jesus, listening for the Spirit, and ask that you all continue to walk with me. I am not the only one who was hurt by our separation. As Rebecca said to me, “we were doubly hurt. To a lesser extent hurt by him and hurt watching him hurt himself, but we also watched him hurt you.” It feels like a lot to ask of all of you, but I want nothing to do with the first choice and everything to do with the second.
This past week I had my monthly appointment with my Spiritual Director. I told her I heard from R., that we planned to get together for coffee, but it hadn’t happened yet. I watched her transition from amazement and pride in my actions thus far to very serious and cautious. She said to me - “Emily, there are godly desires and ungodly desires. It’s really important that you ask yourself what do you most deeply want and as you walk forward ask yourself these questions: Will this lead me closer to God or farther away from God? Will this lead me towards isolation or fullness of life?”
I don’t want to live in isolation. I want fullness of life in and with God.
I couldn’t help, but keep fostering an openness to reconciliation. These past 18 months I’ve been having a conversation with R. in my head, in my heart, out loud to myself, in prayer, and through my dreams. And I’ve been praying for Freedom and for God to guide my steps to follow my deepest longing for my life, to not be stuck. This slug has been moving this past year and a half. I spent 5 weeks in California this summer, the bulk of it at Mercy Center participating and completing an internship in the Art of Spiritual Direction. I’ve never felt so aligned and unfastened in my life thus far. And I’m currently preparing to co-lead a 5-day Academy in February, I’ll preach my first sermon on the topic given to me - Begin Again. My life did go on. I was not left where I was found. And if you’re reading this blog it’s very likely that you walked alongside me in many ways, shapes, and forms.
You are my cloud of witnesses.
As I’ve been talking with people before and after the tea times with R.. I’ve heard and recognized your hesitant joy, your amazement, your caution, and your concern.
As I stand at this crossroad I think I have two choices. One, close the door on further contact with R. and walk away from possible heartache. Two, continue to walk this road with my eyes open, not knowing where it’s headed, with my eyes on Jesus, listening for the Spirit, and ask that you all continue to walk with me. I am not the only one who was hurt by our separation. As Rebecca said to me, “we were doubly hurt. To a lesser extent hurt by him and hurt watching him hurt himself, but we also watched him hurt you.” It feels like a lot to ask of all of you, but I want nothing to do with the first choice and everything to do with the second.
This past week I had my monthly appointment with my Spiritual Director. I told her I heard from R., that we planned to get together for coffee, but it hadn’t happened yet. I watched her transition from amazement and pride in my actions thus far to very serious and cautious. She said to me - “Emily, there are godly desires and ungodly desires. It’s really important that you ask yourself what do you most deeply want and as you walk forward ask yourself these questions: Will this lead me closer to God or farther away from God? Will this lead me towards isolation or fullness of life?”
I don’t want to live in isolation. I want fullness of life in and with God.
You are my cloud of witnesses.
With gratitude, I take this very seriously. I need your wisdom and your love. I invite you to speak into my life as you feel led.
What I most deeply wanted from my first coffee with R. was to see with my own eyes that he was o.k. and in recovery, be in touch with how I was feeling when I was with him, and to experience peace between us.
While I never knew if these conversations would happen or when they would happen, I felt strongly that they were possible.
I believe deeply in and adore the person I know R. to be when he’s in recovery. I know who I want to be, what I’ve learned, how I’ve grown, and what I don’t want. The conversations this week have been completely unexpected, kind, honest, and I couldn’t have scripted them for the world. I’ve taken the opportunity to make apologies to R. too. While I have nothing to do with his addiction, I was not innocent in the heart break department or the struggles of our relationship.
And praise God we have a lot of good memories and as much as I adore R. I think it's safe to say he adores me too. Thankfully, I never doubted whether he loved me. We like each other as people. I’m thrilled to know and see with my own eyes that he’s doing well. It’s been very healing to be listened to without interruption or defense and receive apologies. I know that I’m feeling the shock of this week and not doing a head trip because I can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time, I have a hard time falling asleep, and I wake up early. I’m living mostly on bread, oatmeal, beans and rice, and liquids. My stomach was frequently upset, I thought my heart would pound out of my chest and my hands would not stop shaking before R. arrived at our initial tea. I feel less shaky when I’m with him. And while I feel incredibly vulnerable and more exposed than I’ve felt in a long time, I also strongly feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be for now, that I’m wired for this season, and that I’m in alignment.
So what’s next? I don’t honestly know. We don’t have a date on the calendar to see each other again although I think we will.
I know that I’ve already spent two years of my life focusing on trying to make R. the person I wanted him to be. That didn’t work so I’m ready to try something else like not focusing on him, and focusing on my own life, paying attention to how I feel when I’m with him and the times I'm not, asking myself Suzanne’s questions, and continuing to ask God to lead me towards my deepest longing in the big picture.
The elephant in the room: R. and I are not reconciled to a romantic relationship. Yes, we’ve talked about it. It would be immature, unhealthy, and non-sensical to try to pick up where we left off. As much as R. feels familiar to me and vice versa, we don’t want that. It is also ill advised in the recovery community. No major life changes in the first year. So we’ve got plenty of time to get to know each other again and see where this leads.
I feel jarred, cautious, and lucky.
When I write down what I really want before and after this past week here’s what I come up with:
FREEDOM
BIG LOVE
PEACE
JOY
TRUST
HONESTY
ACCOUNTABILITY
TRANSPARENCY
MATURE PARTNERSHIP
OPEN HANDS
SURRENDER
SPACIOUS COMPANIONSHIP
My dear friend Mary and I were walking around San Francisco together this summer and I was telling her about being back in contact with my dad (story for another time) and I told her “I still believe in miracles.” And she responded “You just don’t believe you have to make them happen anymore.”
Amen.
Love to you all.
What I most deeply wanted from my first coffee with R. was to see with my own eyes that he was o.k. and in recovery, be in touch with how I was feeling when I was with him, and to experience peace between us.
While I never knew if these conversations would happen or when they would happen, I felt strongly that they were possible.
I believe deeply in and adore the person I know R. to be when he’s in recovery. I know who I want to be, what I’ve learned, how I’ve grown, and what I don’t want. The conversations this week have been completely unexpected, kind, honest, and I couldn’t have scripted them for the world. I’ve taken the opportunity to make apologies to R. too. While I have nothing to do with his addiction, I was not innocent in the heart break department or the struggles of our relationship.
And praise God we have a lot of good memories and as much as I adore R. I think it's safe to say he adores me too. Thankfully, I never doubted whether he loved me. We like each other as people. I’m thrilled to know and see with my own eyes that he’s doing well. It’s been very healing to be listened to without interruption or defense and receive apologies. I know that I’m feeling the shock of this week and not doing a head trip because I can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time, I have a hard time falling asleep, and I wake up early. I’m living mostly on bread, oatmeal, beans and rice, and liquids. My stomach was frequently upset, I thought my heart would pound out of my chest and my hands would not stop shaking before R. arrived at our initial tea. I feel less shaky when I’m with him. And while I feel incredibly vulnerable and more exposed than I’ve felt in a long time, I also strongly feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be for now, that I’m wired for this season, and that I’m in alignment.
So what’s next? I don’t honestly know. We don’t have a date on the calendar to see each other again although I think we will.
I know that I’ve already spent two years of my life focusing on trying to make R. the person I wanted him to be. That didn’t work so I’m ready to try something else like not focusing on him, and focusing on my own life, paying attention to how I feel when I’m with him and the times I'm not, asking myself Suzanne’s questions, and continuing to ask God to lead me towards my deepest longing in the big picture.
The elephant in the room: R. and I are not reconciled to a romantic relationship. Yes, we’ve talked about it. It would be immature, unhealthy, and non-sensical to try to pick up where we left off. As much as R. feels familiar to me and vice versa, we don’t want that. It is also ill advised in the recovery community. No major life changes in the first year. So we’ve got plenty of time to get to know each other again and see where this leads.
I feel jarred, cautious, and lucky.
When I write down what I really want before and after this past week here’s what I come up with:
FREEDOM
BIG LOVE
PEACE
JOY
TRUST
HONESTY
ACCOUNTABILITY
TRANSPARENCY
MATURE PARTNERSHIP
OPEN HANDS
SURRENDER
SPACIOUS COMPANIONSHIP
My dear friend Mary and I were walking around San Francisco together this summer and I was telling her about being back in contact with my dad (story for another time) and I told her “I still believe in miracles.” And she responded “You just don’t believe you have to make them happen anymore.”
Amen.
Love to you all.
Note: The picture at the top of this post is from a Scrabble game Julia and I played on Saturday. When R. and I separated Julia and I started walking, swimming, or doing yoga together on Saturday mornings followed by lunch and often times a Scrabble game. She has been a constant listening and supportive, spacious presence in my life these past 18 months. She came over to my apt. and sat with me the night R. and I separated and she let me in last night when I came knocking at her door after tea. She’s given me her blessing and willingness to keep walking alongside of me as I continue down this path. Thank you, sister. I love having you as an alley neighbor and friend. You're one great example of many in this community of mine.
I love your cloud. <3
ReplyDeleteWhew. Got your message, sister, and am thinking about you, loving you, willing your kick-ass list into being.
ReplyDeletefullness of life in and with god. alignment. freedom. miracles.
ReplyDeleteamen, dear friend.
open hands
ReplyDeleteus too
it is how we are called to live and love each other I believe
you are courageous and wise
and have many true friends....this cloud is made for walkin' :)
it brings new meaning to the year of the slug, for to move slow and enjoy the miracle of NOW is exactly what this season beckons.
amen?
love you.
Sara
Oh GIRL, if only I could eat wisdom and words! I'd just hang out here and at IPOL (Hi smk!) and be FED all the live-long year. It was good hearing your voice, the evenness and balance and hope. Your belief in miracles, how alert you are. I think you're in a great place.
ReplyDeleteBegin Again: dang! Who knew???
(I know: you mentioned this the other night. It just keeps hitting me with poignancy, as do many other things in this unfolding story.)
Quest. Balms. Vice. Joys. Trip. Wade.
(a few words I noticed in your Scrabble game)
I'm proud to be a drop in your voluminous cloud! Proud to stand alongside the men and women gathered as witnesses to your beautiful life.
Love to you -
- Rebecca
...just fininshed meeting with God
ReplyDeleteso alive
thanks em