This year, March came in like a lion and went out not like a lamb, but rather like a tiger or a dragon or some other wild beast we shouldn't get close to.  Soon after my first grade twins started bringing home worksheets about lions and lambs and the passing of winter into spring, the rapid spread of COVID-19 caused schools in our state to abruptly close.  Adults were cautioned to keep 6 feet between ourselves and others, and then...we were told it would be safer to work from home and to limit our outings, and to wear gloves and masks as a way of keeping ourselves (and one another) safe.  

I don't know what kind of an animal this past winter was.  It was so shocking, so dumbfounding.  In fact, part of me still feels that what we are living through, the world over, is a lingering form of social winter.  You know...a blank or a dash in the soul where you feel separated and barren and cold and isolated.  Tears and hugs alike are scarce, if only simply because it's just too cold to venture outside.  In the grocery store, I pause...retreat...move quickly past my fellow shoppers; most of us wear masks.  If we smile at one another, nobody can tell, so we walk along pushing carts heaped with provisions, each in our own solitary orbit, doing our best not to collide.  When I come home, I take off this most current fashion accessory, and maybe in my own imagination, gloves, and wash my hands as fastidiously as a surgeon or a raccoon.  Then, I perform this strange, new ritual of disinfecting my groceries and then rearranging them in the cabinets, grouping together like objects and lining up various cans and boxes.  It's as though I am searching for my friends somewhere in there.  And then, on the rare occasion my kids and I walk the neighborhood or the track, I breathe in the fresh, heartwarming scent of wild violet and hyacinth, but with all the warnings about social distancing, all the ways that we have been made wary of one another's proximity, I feel like an interloper.  I wave wordlessly at families out on their lawn.  Not long ago, I would've stopped and spoken, tried to make new friends.  Apart from my family, I feel far from everyone and everything, but I do look forward to the future when we'll get the green light to greet one another, to hug, and to eat and speak and laugh together, up close. 

This is a poem by Charles McKay that I was forced to pick apart in a Harlem Renaissance class at some point during the entire, embarrassing 12-year expanse that was my college career.  At first, I was unsure whether I could "analyze" it in the way the professor was looking for, because, well, obviously I am not African American.   However, I don't believe this has ever been a poem simply about the changing of the seasons, and certainly it lends nothing to the stance some might stake against social stratification; there's far too much writing on the anticipated feelings of relief, refuge, peace, and respite that come with the end of winter.  I take this as a poem of hope, and the determination to outlast one's hardships.  It's perfect for people the world over who, right now, are waiting and praying for a dark period to pass.  

After the Winter
BY CLAUDE MCKAY
Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
     And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
     Have sheltered for the night,
We’ll turn our faces southward, love,
     Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire the shafted grove
     And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill
     Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
     And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
     Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
     And ferns that never fade.
Source: Claude McKay: Complete Poems (University of Illinois Press, 2004)

As for myself, I have had a very rough time of all this quarantine business.  I need others, and I like to know that they might just need me, too.  Save for my kids' bickering and too-loud voice volumes that regularly grate on my nerves, I am trying to just outlast all of this.  As for myself, I need to do a better job at just settling for this slowdown.  After all, here it is, happening to us all whether **I** have a say-so in it or not.  I am going to give myself permission to just embrace the change and continue to try and love and enrich and help the ones I MUST be around every day, without choice.  I have needed to slow down, to draw in a deep breath, reflect on some things, set myself upright again, like how you might witness a kayak effortlessly do it.  All this togetherness really HAS been good for the kids and I!.  I need to do better, though, about not snapping or snipping at them, and instead just get right down on their levels or hold them on my lap and truly get to know each one as the individual little person that they are.  My hopes are that my friends are choosing to do the same thing and put their own twists on the day-to-day difficulties, disappointments, personal triumphs, and victories.  <3 <3 

I honestly don't know how to feel! Griffin and I both have fevers this morning, but neither of us feel much different than usual.  It's so weird.  It's so.......isolating.  I can't let him outta the apartment.  I can't go out, myself.  We can't breathe upon or at anyone until the end-all, be-all COVID-19 test deems us worthy.  I feel VERY let down at this point.  OMGosh, we have STAYED home all this time!!!  We haven't gone out in public much.   Sure, I've totally committed a misdemeanor by leaving my crew in the car alone these last few weeks, but felt sure God would still smile down and say, "You're fine," and then move along... 

The next big thing I will be dealing with is getting this divorce filed and finalized.  It's time.  We've been split up since October 2018, with never an intention to get back together.  When I left Todd's house, I left Todd's house for good.  

I must admit, though, I'm not the world's most devious person.  Everybody gets in my head and tries to make me realize that half of all he has is also mine.  People tell me to go for it, go for it all, and I'm like, "Go for what?"  The only thing I ever wanted out of this whole thing was for both of us to revel in peace and live happy lives...and that goes for  my children, too.  Todd and I actually get along much better now that we are not under the same roof and now that we are apart from one another.  Before I left, I envisioned us parting ways a much stronger force than when we were actually together. It has taken awhile, but look!  It's totally taking place! I still envision Todd one day finding it within himself to forgive me, but I no longer crave it or need it to be at peace.  I made mistakes, and so did he.  It's as simple and as complicated as that.  

Sure, I've had my moments of rage since we parted ways.  I've been SO! mad at him that I could have easily ripped off his head and shat down his neck!  I have been so upset that he rejected our three kids out of spite for me.  But...the bottom line is that I JUST WANT TO GET THROUGH THIS so that we can call it quits legally and both of us get on with our lives.  Sometimes, we just outgrow people...and they, us.  And what have I learned throughout all of this? I have learned that it's okay.  It maybe isn't ideal and perfect and admirable to divorce your husband, but it's still okay!  Sometimes things need to happen so that we don't choke on our own sadness.  Sometimes, walking away and looking at the entire situation with a grateful heart about what we've learned and how to do it differently next time...sometimes that's the best remedy for everyone involved.  Forgiveness just automatically falls into place, I believe, when we are mindful about not setting out to hurt the other party.  

I have heard this deemed "conscious uncoupling", and while I feel like it's an extremely liberal and PC term for that stark word we all know, DIVORCE, I actually kind of appreciate it.  To divorce someone sends images to my brain of expensive lawyers, mediators in the courtroom, the guardian ad litem, all that stuff.  Transcripts of trials and even more bills due in the name of legal counsel.  However, with conscious uncoupling, in my mind I see a man and a woman, and they are not right for one another and they both know it.  They are very much different people, you see, and they've just reached that very grown-up point to look at themselves and each other with very honest, open hearts...and then they walk away.  No bad-mouthing.  No name-calling.  No trying to fight for material things that never really mattered anyway.  No vying for half of his 401K, because really, I didn't work for it and so therefore I do not ethically believe I have a right to it.  Money was never the reason I married Todd, anyway, so why would I let that be the fallguy for our demise?  

“Conscious uncoupling”, and its counterpart “conscious coupling”, are phrases that suggest the possibility of a certain level of control over the emotionally volatile matters of love, sex and attachment. At its worst, the implication is that if you are a clever, decent person, you should be able to manage your relationships in such a way as neither to cause, nor suffer, extremes of pain, and to preserve the dignity of both parties at every point in the romantic or sexual encounter.

A brief flick through literary history might suggest that this is a tall order, but Shakespeare, Stendhal and the Brontës didn’t know what it was like to contend with the constant, baleful gaze of social media. In the old days people could have tantrums, wreak revenge and die of heartbreak when their love stories didn’t go according to plan. Now it is 'de rigueur' (translation: required by etiquette or current fashion) to retain a consistent appearance of sentimental hygiene given that everything you do or say needs to be fed into the like-machine. It’s become a competitive sport. What would people think of you if they knew you felt hurt, rejected, brimming with envy or rage? Perhaps it would seem at odds with your job as guarantor of the possibility of the charmed life.

Still, is conscious uncoupling simply another unrealistic, persecutory ideal? (If Gwyneth Paltrow, American actress, singer, author, and businesswoman; daughter of famed Blythe Danner and Bruce Paltrow himself...If Gwyneth and Chris Martin, a British singer, songwriter, musician, record producer, philanthropist, lead singer and co-founder of Coldplay can do it, why can’t I?) Or might there be things I can do on the journey in and out of love that can truly make life easier for everyone? The term itself was coined by the American writer and psychotherapist after my own heart, Katherine Woodward Thomas, and the process she describes is one of radical generosity coupled with fearless introspection. In practice, this means refraining from doing most of the things people are liable to do in the aftermath of a serious emotional letdown.

For instance, don’t blame the other person and badmouth them around town. Even if they really did do something terrible to you, don’t be deflected from thinking about your own role in the situation. The point isn’t to “win”, but to LEARN. Allow yourself truly to mourn and recover. Don’t pay heed to that hideous old adage, “happiness is the best revenge”; if you want to feel better in real life, the best way is to be honest with yourself about what you’ve lost, and to be frank about any hopes you have for the future. In short, Woodward Thomas is describing an authentic grieving process, some of which is liable to be very painful, and might not look nice from the outside.  I have gone through this myself, and not too long ago.  

I've never really been very fascinated with celebrities.  I don't keep up on the latest movies, the best-looking actors or actresses (I still have a crush on both George Clooney and Kevin James...oh, and  Meg Ryan, too).  I never cared what the gossip magazines wrote about.  I have enough noise in my own head, whyever would I buy into someone else's?  We as Americans tend to hold celebrities to impossible standards, which they then attempt to demonstrate for us at goodness knows what cost to themselves, and we punish them when they let us down. We, in turn, risk finding ourselves feeling terrible when we are unable to adhere to the ideals of perfect social grace we see constantly enacted in front of us. In this alienating hall of mirrors, one must attempt to look good at all times.  

Losing love, and being replaced, can be terrible narcissistic blows. What better way to cover our  tracks and lick our wounds than to find a smidgen of Peace within ourselves, and then let it grow?  Hang onto that feeling.  FEEL GRATEFUL FOR LOVE, EVEN BEFORE YOU'VE FOUND IT.  Put YOUR love out there.  Remove toxic individuals from your life, and steer clear of drama.  Remember the good times...but learn from the bad.  My advice?  Take whatever it is you have learned from your old relationships and forge ahead when you are ready.  May all my friends be blessed in their relationships.  Remember to cherish your Special Person with all your heart.  Let us FORGIVE one another, and move on and remain strong for those around us who desperately NEED for us to be strong. Love and Peace to my friends, always!  And, Love and Peace to my almost-ex-husband, Todd.  I believe I am a better person because of my relationship/marriage of 15 years, I am SURE Of it.  ...and...I'm so very grateful for that.  So many components of relationships can change for the better if both parties are willing to change perspectives and show one another some grace.  Marriage may not have worked for US...but I fully believe neither of our stories are over yet.  

Look.  Divorce is a traumatic and difficult decision for all parties involved—and there’s arguably no salve besides time to take that pain away. However, when the whole concept of marriage and divorce is reexamined, there’s actually something far more powerful—and positive—at play.  Or...there CAN be...if both parties are mindful and actually TRY to be civil.  

The media likes to throw around the statistic that 50% of all marriages end in divorce...and It turns out that’s accurate: Many people are concerned about the divorce rate and see it as an important problem that needs to be fixed. But what if divorce itself isn’t the problem? What if it’s just a symptom of something deeper that needs our attention? The high divorce rate might actually be a calling to learn a new way of being in relationships.  Yeah?? Are you still with me? And will you allow me to be your cheerleader?  I sure hope so...because in high school I always thought of myself as a REALLY GOOD cheerleader!  My squad LOVED cheering together!  I LOVED riding the bus with my fellow "cheer babes" and the football players.  Nights spent traveling on that bus were charged with fun.  Those nights were absolutely spent doing our duties, cheerleaders.  

Anyway.  Check it:  

During the upper Paleolithic period of human history (roughly 50,000 BC to 10,000 BC) the average human life expectancy at birth was 33.[i] By 1900, U.S. life expectancy was only 46 for men, and 48 for women. Today, it’s 76 and 81 respectively.[ii] During the 52,000 years between our Paleolithic ancestors and the dawn of the 20th Century, life expectancy rose just 15 years. In the last 114 years, it’s increased by 43 years for men, and 48 years for women.  This is something to feel hopeful about! 

But...what does this have to do with divorce rates? For the vast majority of history, humans lived relatively short lives—and accordingly, they weren't in relationships with the same person for 25 to 50 years. Modern society adheres to the concept that marriage should be lifelong; but when we’re living three lifetimes compared to early humans, perhaps we need to redefine the construct. 

In my venture in obtaining a Women's Studies minor at University of Tulsa, I learned through social research practicum that because we are living so long, most people will have two or three significant long-term relationships in their lifetime.  Well.  I, myself, can safely say I have had at least two...Anyway.  What the media RARELY EVER tells us is how many divorces actually end in the peaceful, balanced way they sometimes do.  THIS is the idea I want to present to you today.

It's called 'conscious uncoupling'.  It happens when both parties are comfortable with splitting apart.  Conscious uncoupling happens as a result of two people going in separate directions, and they are both fine with it.  

[i] Hillard Kaplan, Kim Hill, Jane Lancaster, and A. Magdalena Hurtado (2000). A Theory of Human Life History Evolution: Diet, Intelligence and Longevity”. Evolutionary Anthropology 9 (4): 156–185. doi:10.1002/1520-6505(2000)9:43.0.CO;2-7.
[ii] Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2011). Life expectancy at birth, at age 65, and at age 75, by sex, race, and Hispanic origin: United States, selected years 1900-2010. National vital statistics system . United states 2011 web updates Washington D.C.: National center for healthcare statistics. http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hus/2011/022.pdf.