Here I am at the cusp of a new relationship with C. (yes, blog, meet C.). So much possibility. Am I being a clear-eyed, smart me? I wonder… Or am I allowing myself to get lost in narratives? I feel more me than ever before. I feel present. I feel ready. I feel so at home in my journey and as though I’ve felt another traveler who won’t impede me but will rather carry my load from time to time, and me his. This is grace.
I am thinking tonight, too, of two friends, both named Elizabeth, both met via the Internet. One is sitting tonight with her darling Scott in Indiana, the love of her life, the father of her two girls. A fellow librarian. He’s being knocked down – taken out – by cancer. Horrid, wretched cancer. To lose your mate, your best friend at 40-odd years … well, it’s too soon. So hard. And yet I’m happy for them in a way. They aren’t being “brave” per se, but are rather facing it head on. Living it. Being present with Scott’s dying. They are inside the process in a way that is incredibly powerful. Elizabeth and her daughters — and, who knows, maybe Scott, too — won’t come out the other side as the same people. It’s powerful, powerful work.
And there’s Elizabeth another state over. Sitting with a sealed envelope of things she would like to find in a partner. A list she wrote a year ago. A list she was led to after her marriage ended. A list she can’t quite remember but feels ready – I believe – to reconsider. This Elizabeth, too, is on a powerful journey. And she is so present with herself and her sons, and even her ex. Present with his lies. Present with his Buddha-nature potential that she sees but that alludes him. Present with her own slow but searching and whip-smart self.
What a time for journeys. May we all open ourselves to the heavens and our great good. There is so much out there to be discovered.

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October 9, 2009 at 10:36 pm
Elizabeth
Avoiding work and mothering for a moment on this Friday; a round of checking my favorite sites, and I see this beautiful, tear-inducing collection of words…
I hope the wonder and curiosity for what this journey with this traveler holds urges you to continue walking down the path. You are ready because you say you are and you deserve it – bask in your grace.
My heart goes out to your other Elizabeth – so many oxymorons come to mind, yet none of them seem to capture the duality of such beautiful sorrow. So So powerful.
And as for the rest, all I can say is thank you for your beautiful friendship – though we’re practically strangers by the outside world, I love that we can stand witness to each others paths, wherever they may take us.
The journey. The goodness. The discovery. The wonderfully-organic-authentic-constantly metamorphosing sacred gift of the present moment.
October 10, 2009 at 8:14 pm
Jeff
Sounds great Jen.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention that I needed a year after my divorce became final to be clear enough to really dig in to another committed relationship.
Had lots of dating partners though. They were all great.
October 10, 2009 at 9:07 pm
Jennifer
Hey Jeff, I don’t feel that is remiss at all. And very appreciated. And definitely something that’s been on my mind. Every person and every divorce has its own schedule/timeline, of course, and one thing that’s interesting about this is that so much of the hard work was done ages ago. The sadness and anger were done over years. There was relief when we decided to separate, nearly a year and a half ago. And then there’s been waiting due to circumstances – namely 8 mos in Africa and the time leading up to it.
Nonetheless, I am trying very much to check in with myself on that front.
October 12, 2009 at 5:41 am
Jeff
You’re right, timelines are all different, but I’m glad you’re in touch
October 13, 2009 at 6:36 pm
“He was also a great kisser.” « Au Revoir, Goodbye, So Long: life after divorce
[...] these lines are there for Elizabeth and Scott. Scott died on Sunday, at home with Elizabeth and their two daughters. They were the real [...]