Several youngish divorced women and I recently swapped stories of our “crazy year(s)” — that whacked-out period after our marriages ended when we had no idea how to behave like normal single people. The conversation brought to mind a favorite relationship analogy: Divorce as a swimming pool. It goes like this:
Swimming pools are great.
A lot of us grew up aspiring to have one in the backyard.
A theory on places where there aren’t a lot of people:
In such places, there is less static separating the present from other points in time.
And because those places lack the clutter of development and the noise of people’s daily busyness, they aren’t as anchoring to the present, harried moment.
They are good places to disconnect and reflect, allowing us to remember we are occupying but a small moment in the history of this world. Whatever is weighing on us right that second is truly irrelevant in the grand scheme.
Here are a small handful of such escapes.
Oh, Tennessee.
Sometimes you remind me of me when I was newly single and starting to date. I was so eager and caught up in my own tender heart that I had no idea how I came across to other people. Sometimes it worked out regardless, and much of the time it did not.
I had baggage. Not Civil War kind of baggage, bless your heart, but a (civil but still painful) divorce… Continue reading
