Building a Life and Calling it Grace
When the bottom falls out we’re often forced to switch gears
There are two distinct times, no, make that three distinct times when the bottom has fallen out of my life and I was forced to rebuild.
The first time this happened I failed Philosophy of Art as a Junior in college. An easy A, my roommate had promised. Yeah. Right! In order to receive the required credits to be able to graduate on time with my class the following year, I was forced into summer school where I took a course called Writing for Children.
I had been on track to become a journalist, or possibly a broadcaster if I could have found the “chops” to pull that one off, and I thought that by listening to my gut (something I’m pretty good at), which told me to take Philosophy of Art, I was making a good choice. Out of the many classes I had to choose from, I chose the least thing that aligned with my personality, but I somehow “knew” I needed to take this class. I felt it intuitively and the potential for an easy A was a huge selling point.
Fast forward. No easy A. And I was now writing fiction. The possibility of me becoming a fiction writer might have still happened had I not failed and gotten sidetracked, but when I took the summer course I knew immediately that I was on the right road. Suddenly everything clicked. I loved it. I knew writing for children was my new path and I was psyched. This was now a positive direction I was dancing in.
I thank my roommate to this day for suggesting that class. She became a catalyst for a shift in me. Although I could see only the top note, which looked like failure and forced me to find a solution, it was the nuance or the hidden notes that this experience provided that gave me my first big opportunity toward understanding Grace. I was able to recognize the way failure had brought me to something more enjoyable and I forgave myself for failing.
The second time the bottom fell out this led to a divorce. I will spare you the details. It wasn’t messy, but it was painful. I had built a life with a man, who became the father of our two daughters, and life was good. We were, on the surface, happy. I was hiding a lot of pain under that happiness though, but I was good at hiding and I went about my days eager to make my children happy so I wouldn’t have to face my own unhappiness. I coddled them maybe a bit too much, but at the end of the day they’re beautifully strong, secure, and love me, so I didn’t screw that one up.
The divorce was sudden. I saw the writing on the wall when our eldest went off to college. I was going to be alone with this man in a few years. And then what? We didn’t know one another as husband and wife, because we had a baby a year after getting married. We knew one another as a mother and father. Although I never let on to my dear husband just how miserable I really was, I felt that it was time I campaign for myself for the first time in 48 years and I threw a functioning marriage under the bus.
It was time to explore. I didn’t know myself. I knew the daughter and the wife, but it had become time to know the spiritual seeker.
Although my husband was initially hurt by the abruptness of my shift, we’re both a lot happier in our respectful lives. I no longer expect him to give me ample room to “seek” and he no longer expects me to entertain his fancies such as skiing, playing tennis, bike riding, kayaking, hiking, etc., alongside him. He gets to do his journey his way and I get to do mine my way.
There is a kind of Grace in needing to be vocal about our needs. If at the end of the day, I could have figured out a way to do me alongside him, I would have done this. I would have stayed married. I feel certain I didn’t make a mistake by getting this divorce, but once again, I did have to forgive myself for failing. By finding my truth in this, and loving myself through it all, I was able to regroup. It took a lot of deep meditation and reflection, but this is what I learned again: Grace is hidden in the fabric of our lives. It is on us to find it.
The third time, and the most recent time this bottom fell out I was expecting my life to go one way when in fact it went in the opposite direction. You see, I thought I’d finally found my perfect partner. Not a husband, nor a father for my children, but a real honest-to-goodness friend and companion who I could see myself living alongside for the rest of my life.
The hiccup? He didn’t see it.
The way we go forward, despite the heartbreak, leads us to more pain and grief, if this is what we choose, or it can take us to Grace. When we choose to stay in pain we go deeper into experiences that take us into deeper pain. Or, if we can find the shifts in the perceived failures, and find a way to move the gears ever-so-slightly toward Grace, the perceived failure will become an opportunity for something unknown but compelling.
Becoming a spiritual seeker has nothing to do with seeking. Honestly, I think it has much more to do with stopping long enough to discern. If we go on looking and looking for the better partner, the better job, the better wife, the better this, or the better that, we’ll miss an opportunity to grow in Grace.
I have decided to stop fretting. My life will be what it will be. It will not be what I thought it was going to be. It never has been so why should I expect that to change?
I am without a rudder, again, and I am fine. Happy. Not fake happy. Not at all. I am genuinely happy because this is what I want to be. For me.
