New Paradigms
07/18/2004 04:08 p.m.
I find myself in a most interesting position. Having filled out the divorce papers two weekends ago, I did not file because of some of the unresolved financial matters which he had suggestions for, suggestions that made sense. He had, however, agreed to sign the divorce papers once those matters were resolved in a way that was beneficial for both of us. I was agreeable because both attorneys I had consulted had offered the same suggestions.

During the last two weeks, with all turmoil laid to rest and all resolve to "work things out somehow" utterly surrendered, I found myself in a unique position of unbiased and unthreatening objectivity. I have observed some disturbing events unfold....disturbing in that these events have been unexpected, and surprising in their possible conclusions. He's seeking serious help for himself, separate from me, separate from any hope to regain my trust or sway any odds in his favor somehow for any other reason than to make his own life better.

He's been clean and sober for 80 days, not a subtantial amount of time but longer than any time during our marriage. He's attending a church, meditating and praying, and he has this calm about him I have never witnessed, ever. Always, even when "things" were going well, there was always an underlying current of unrest and chaos. Now, despite the mess which is his life, there seems to be an underlying calm and peace.

I have no idea what it means to me. I don't know that it means anything to me, perhaps because somehow peace has found him, he has embraced it, and I was not a part of that process and, therefore, should not be. He hasn't asked me to pause in my own process, in my own going forward without him. He only says he loves me still and wants what is best for me, even if he is no longer to be a part of that equation. He is homeless at this point, with only a part time job, and not once has he asked me to take him in (nor have I offered). He is finding his own way.

I find that I wish to observe this process. It is frightening because he is not the same, and I only know how to relate to the man as he was. The familiar has value simply because it is a known equation, the answer to which is solved already (the challenge, while difficult, lessened in degrees because the way has already been traveled). I don't know this new equation, and perhaps I will discover that I don't like the answer to this new equation as much as I didn't like the answer to the old equation. But I find that I wish to observe as the solution unfolds. For love. For hope. For the testimony of miracles.

Of course I can't trust this new equation until it has been worked many times and the integrity of the outcome has been proven. But I find that I am willing to observe the process, to stand still while I watch. And that's all.
I am currently Questioning
I am listening to My children watch Sponge Bob