Break Another Little Piece of My Heart, Now Baby

When we take risks - that's when life really opens up, doesn't it?

A good solid trauma can and will take you out of the game for some time, though. A death, a job loss, a divorce, a betrayal in business or friendship - all move us rather soundly into a survival-mode coma.

It's there for your safety, this heart-wrap. You really can't handle a lot more in those moments, so you pull into yourself. You try to stay 'normal' when in public and not spontaneously howl with anger or misery in line at the grocery store.

You attempt to keep afloat (or lean rather helplessly on) the areas of your life that are healthy, that can give you oxygen.

And then, at some blessedly odd moment, you find yourself beginning to breathe again on your own. First a little, then a lot. You test your lungs - in, out - in, out. You try breathing harder. Things still seem to be working.

So you initiate a dinner with a friend that doesn't involve your venting, and you remember to ask how they are doing. You begin to emotionally start 'picking up the check' for others, when you can, when it seems appropriate and helpful, because you once again have a little emotional room.

You still feel the tenderness of tough memories, and you still have to watch for taking on too much. You are pliable, but the bottom could fall out rather spontaneously, your soul tells you. So you honor that. You still attend, rather than host parties. Just yet.

It's a process over which you have little control. Which is a good thing. We should honor more the clock of a heart's healing. Water, sunshine, and get out of the way of God.

I divorced in 2009. I had two wonderful counselors who helped me deal, process, learn, grow. The first: Dr. Tim Young, who walked me through making peace with my parents' divorce when I was in college, and was there for me again, in my mid-20's, upon the sudden death of my precious dad. Dr. Young is endlessly kind and deeply knowledgeable about God and the human heart.

The second counselor, Roz Van Meter, I met during the course of my marriage. A fabulous pistol of a zen-meister - in her 70's and in her prime - sharp, funny, brutally honest. Roz simultaneously defines 'zing' and 'class' - helpful to this girl who was fearful she'd lost both via too many tears and too much drama.

So, two perfect guardians - yin and yang - guiding me along - one with a very long and compassionate rope to my past, another with a more recent tether. I was so well-cared for, and remain endlessly grateful for their devotion to sweeping up my brokenness with the softest of brooms. The honesty with which they made me face my choices. The vision they had for my future.

Why counseling?

I was kind of determined that I would come out of the experience whole - more so even than I was before I married. I desperately wanted to avoid being emotionally squashed by failure and heartbreak. 'Bitter women' - those that man-bash and rag and wheeze with mistrust - I just didn't want to sign up for that.

Dr. Young advised I wait one full year before dating anyone seriously. I did ok at that, sort of. I knew how unsteady my feet were in romance post-divorce, how oddly-shaped my smile. There was a general spacy-ness in my soul in which another heart simply could not find a solid place to rest for quite some time.

January 2011. Starship Update.

My building serves coffee each morning in the lobby. For the past several months, I've poured that black gold into the paper cups provided. One morning last week, however - before heading downstairs from my condo to the coffee station - I walked into my own kitchen and opened the cabinet. I grabbed a ceramic mug without really thinking about it.

Both its weight and fragile nature at once felt at home in my hands as I toted the mug downstairs and poured my coffee. And it hit me later that when we're ok with being breakable and we stop feeling disposable, we're once again made for the long haul. That mug was me. And I was e-la-ted.

In whatever way that makes sense to you today, I hope you'll opt to either grab a hand up - and get the support you need - or seize a 'mug' - and begin really living your life. Either action will straighten your spine, and each has its right time.

Nervous? Hold hands with someone you trust and like - and go!

Love,

Melinda

Photo Credit: Getty Images