Part 2: Divorce in the time of Covid-19
Hello fearless reader,
How are you living these days? Shit got dark, huh. A lot darker than it was on May 29th, 2020. But that was the day I first posted about my separation and pending divorce from my husband. You can read it here to catch up. A lot has changed since then!
I was so hopeful and scared and full of uncertainty! Weren't we all at the start of this? It's only been 7 months and my life hardly resembles ANYTHING it did in May. I have retained a lot. But mostly I lost. And I lost. And I lost. And I grieved and grieved. And broke apart. And I tried to start putting myself back together. If 2020 was a dumpster fire for you, I understand. You are obviously not alone, it's a goddam Christmas tree ornament.
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| Merry Fucking Christmas |
2020 was a complete Death and Rebirth cycle for me. And I mean chrysalis to butterfly, full cycle tower coming down shit. I mean changing my name and then changing it back type of stuff. haha.
In May 2020 I was living in the perfect New England colonial home on a corner lot with my handsome husband and two adorable toddlers. One girl, One boy. My work calendar was BOOKED. As a professional theatre artist and teacher, I had the most paid directing work of my life, and a thriving new theatre school with a newly acquired studio space! I was breastfeeding and socializing and networking and basically from the outside, I was kicking feminist ass at life. This perfect life of my creation was actually a prison of the heart and soul. But I kept busy enough to ignore that most days. Then the pandemic hit. Honestly it felt like a freedom toll from the bell tower of my heart. I knew that if the world started crumbling, I could get out. Of my marriage.
This is that moment in life where fear and the possibility of freedom meet and become courage.
That moment where the bottom falls out, and you realize you are falling. Will you let go? Or panic? Both. Over and over again for eternity.
My hope is that in the fall of our nation, our patriarchy, our delusions of equality, our false ideals and racist structures, in the death of literally hundreds of thousands of Americans and millions of people around the world, that in the face of all that DEATH, when we hear the bell toll for them, we will realize that we are ALIVE. We are being given a second chance at life. And they want us to LIVE! Our Ancestors. Trust me, I'm a witchy empath tarot card reader going through a mid-life crisis. YOU KNOW ME!
I don't think I ever understood the old adage, "What would you do if you only had 1 day to live, or 1 week, or 1 year." What would you do with the precious time you have left on this earth? I guess I thought I had time.
For many of us, that question, that calling, that bell toll woke us up! Maybe we were freed from our insane jobs, freed from our loveless marriages, we made art, we made love, we took risks, we attempted to suck all the marrow out of life we could. Hopefully we didn't die or get someone else sick along the way.
It's been a hard year
When the ball drops on 2020 and we enter 2021, my hope is that we will rise from the ashes of this fucking carnage laden year like LADY fucking LAZEROUS,
-Excert from "Lady Lazarous by Sylvia Plath -- thank you to David Orr at the New York Times for quoting her in today's paper! I needed that.
She is GODDESS!!! I bow to Sylvia. But she obviously knew what facing your own death looked like. What facing the cruelty of life looks like. Those who know what it is like to stare annihilation in the eye, I believe have learned a great truth about life.
You understand that you can SURVIVE, even death! You can live through the worst. And if we can do that, we can live life with purpose and praise for the mundane and beautiful gift that life is.
We must handle this life with care and responsibility. We are more powerful than the storm. So what will we do with that power?
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Here is where I stand on the precipice that is 2021. I can't wait to jump! I am the fool. I am the cipher. I am zero.
I'm celebrating. Because I've survived a very dark night in my personal life. And that is not to say that it is over. But because I have gotten so intimate with the dark, I see the light in a whole new way. I'm ready to make the most out of my time here on earth.
I'm ready to be brave.
I'm ready to do what's right and good.
I'm ready to love and be loved.
I'm ready to embrace my privilege and give back.
That is my hope for the new year.
I'm ready to not only imagine but to LIVE the life I imagine, so that the world can become a more beautiful place.
I will be spending the last chime of 2020 alone in a house by the ocean. My kids will be with my ex. I was supposed to be at a ritzy hotel with my girlfriend. But all that ended. The man I'm interested in reads me poetry over the phone, but lives a million miles away.
Honestly, I'm thrilled and bruised, but not broken. I'm living in a new house in my town that my family paid for, because that is my reality. I have my kids half-time- and the other half I basically work, smoke pot, write songs or have existential crises and affairs. It's not pretty, folks! But it's spectacular too.
I even ended up in an ambulance on my way to the ER after Thanksgiving. It was a full moon.
After testing negative for covid twice, the doctors started investigating more. What could I tell them except that most all of my bodily functions were failing and I was vomiting blood? I thought I was dying. They were concerned too, but less than I.
Doctor: "What are your symptoms?"
Me: "All? My body is falling apart. It's given up."
I truly believe the body takes on the brunt of our stress and grief. At least for me. 2020 gave me a FUCKING BLEEDING Esophageal ULCER. (Treatment is still going and I'm fine.)
But I realized, (after my second near death experience in 2 years), that I better WAKE UP! You don't get many more light taps on the shoulder when the Universe is literally screaming at you through your body.
How has your body survived this year? How about your heart? Your Mind? Your soul?
I've left so many casualties behind during the battle through this year that I can't count. But I survived it. My kids did too. And honestly, I think I'm more whole than ever.
My husband is surviving it too. We are lucky. We live apart now and raise our kids. We are getting divorced.
Paul's name is Roxy now. She is a trans woman. So I guess I left Paul behind. I'm grieving that.
But she is breathing and so am I. And for as long as I have breath in this poor, beautiful body of mine, I will love myself. I will be kind to myself. I will listen to my heart. I will hold my heart. THEN I will let SPIRIT love ME. And THEN I will share my love with others.
Those will be my guidelines to "Get through this thing called life," as one of our other most treasured poets of apocalyptic times, Prince, wrote.
I will also write and make art and make magic. Because that is why I'm here.
I hope you will be reborn this solstice, new year, holiday season. I hope you will find a new strength and love for life in 2021.
If you're still in the fire and the flames are suffocating you, grab on to someone's hand and focus on the warmth of your body. You will be born in that fiery cauldron and RISE AGAIN!
Even though I was screaming at my ex in a CVS parking lot a few days ago, we hugged the next day. Why? Because we are NOT ALONE. We are family. We've got each other's hands. And we have our kids' hands, and we have the hands of our friends and family and lovers.
Love your enemy. Love your babies. Love yourself. Love your lovers.
I love you, 2021. You are looking SOOOOOOOOOOOO good right now.
What are you doing New Years? Would you be my date? I feel very excited to dance with you!
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