If you’ve ever played a role in the human production of Divorce, then you have, at some length, experienced death.
If this is true, then I’ve experienced death many times.
I’m a child of divorce(s) (as is most of my generation — children of Baby-Boomers), and I’m also in the wake of my own divorce after 8 years of marriage.
It sucks. All of it sucks. It’s miserable, gutting, emotionally paralyzing, and prompts a whole host of insecurities like inadequacy, shame, guilt, self-deprecation, low self-worth, and no real hints of self-belief. Sad yet? Yeah, me too. The cold wash of sadness covers every inch of your body and there’s no towel or comforting sun to warm the skin. During this time, survival instincts kick in. You’re cornered, so you either fight back tooth and nail or your eyes desperately dart around the dark space looking for a way out.
The extreme, primordial self emerges. This is the Lizard self, the Darwinian self whose only purpose is to pass on its genetic material for the survival of the species. You’re distilled, returned, and connected with your base creature self: Eat, sleep, propagate. But we know that this is just existing, right? Didn’t think I needed to quote Neil Young, but here goes: “I want to live, I want to give”. Oh that’s right, we’re creatures with a conscience. A conscience that no only houses our morality, but our desires to create and live a worthy life.
So we’ve the desire to live, and not just exist. Death, and the insecurities I listed above, are a window into our creature entrapments. Obsessions, compulsions, and addictions and any other self-indulgences aim to limit our conscience’s freedom. Freedom to be our truest selves. Freedom is accepting salvation (becoming who you are) in the form of pain, the hard, seemingly impossible way. But until we own and fix our eyes on dealing with our creature-misery, freedom will elude us. Freedom looks like perseverance; perseverance looks like acceptance, and acceptance allows you to defeat even death.
Death of a friend.
Death of a relationship.
Death of a dream.
It’s not easy, it’s not supposed to be, & that’s okay.