Taking it slow

Do you often rush through things?

Maybe you also need to take it slow sometimes? If you need support, I am there as a loving being, to support you.

As I was about to divorce my second husband, almost exactly seven years ago, I knew I couldn’t use the Gordian knot method. I needed to go slow. I knew there was a risk that I would actually crush into atoms if it happened fast.
I remember I met friends who were puzzled. Why do you keep talking to him? Why don’t you do a rough cut.The answer was simple - or complicated - depending on point of view. I couldn’t.

I had lived almost 24/7 with this man for more than a decade. We had a relationship with lots of deep talks. It was like he was the friend I could share my secrets with. It was he who could listen to me. It was he who knew me almost to the core.

It was there was so many nerve-endings touching us both, like we were linked with hundreds of small wires, and to cut them all would lead to a short circuit. To put it more simple. It felt like I would die if I abruptly let go of him. And still I needed to dis-entangle, to detach from him. 

In the beginning, as I told him our marriage was over, I thought we could still be friends, that we still could work together.

Six months later I knew that was false. I knew we could neither be friends, nor work together. When that dawned on me I felt a mixture of feelings. On one hand there was a relief. ”I don’t have to deal with him anymore”. And on the other time there was fear and sadness: ”What would I create now”, (since we were a well known couple-team in our subculture.)

During this six months, there were so many occasions where I thought I touched the bottom of the Ocean. Like when the bank told me, that I wasn’t trustable any more (due to low income). So where would I live? 

Picture me, on the lowest step of the Maslow ladder, not knowing how to take care of primal needs.

I needed time. Time to withdraw. Time to find myself again. Time to start a new life. Time to be. Time to breathe. Time to mourn. Time to make choices. Time to listen to my intuition. Time to dis-entangle.

And do you know? It worked. Taking it slowly. Disentangle with a certain grace. Taking one step at the time. Slowly setting sharper boundaries. Unfriend him in social media. Trusting myself. Meeting the world partly as a newborn again, and at the same time, with lots of experiences, and a big heart.

Recently I saw that my former father in law had died. I sent a message to my former mother in law, with my condolences, and some words of caring. It was the first message I sent to her since then. And she answered, in a neutral and friendly voice. It felt good to do that. 

I guess the healing still continues. I haven’t seen him for six years, haven’t spoken to him for five. I am not caught in his net anymore. The bewitching is over.

And still, I guess I need to continue walking slow. And enjoying what is. And I do.