To everything a season

"TO every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3

I remember how well that verse resonated with me even as a small child. Every single thing that happens in life has a purpose. There is a lesson to be learned from every hardship if I can just pay close enough attention to see it. I find myself coming back to that scripture over and over and over as life ebbs and flows through joy and strife, gladness and sorrow, pride and shame, reminding myself at each of those dramatic turns that change is the only thing in life that remains unchanging. Nothing is static. Every sadness is eventually followed by joy. Every heartbreak followed by love. Some people dread those changes in direction. But we shouldn't. They add spice to life. They make it interesting. They give us the opportunity to grow into better people and to improve the lives of everyone around us by sharing that new understanding.

I wouldn't trade any of my experiences, even as terrible as some of them have been, for a life filled with easy love and unchallenged decisions. And my life has certainly not been filled with effortless love or easy decisions. There have been ample opportunities for me to be angry, to hate, to drown myself in the drama and misery of what "they" have done to me, or how "they" have made me miserable. I decided a long time ago that my own spiritual energy is way too precious to me to be wasted on hatred or anger. It is so much more productive to forgive, to try to understand, and then to move on from a place of love and compassion.

I was confronted recently with the idea that I had somehow thrown away the last decade or so of my life because my relationship has ended, that I might look back and wish that I hadn't wasted my twenties. But I think that is the farthest thing from the truth. I haven't thrown away any time. And I certainly don't regret it, not a moment of it, even as difficult as it was most of the time. I'm not certain I could have navigated such a difficult time in my life completely alone. We needed each other. Our relationship served a very real and meaningful purpose for us both. We raised our children together, and did a damn fine job of it, if I do say so myself. We found joyous occasions in the midst of financial struggle and the stress of juggling a houseful of kids with working multiple jobs each, attending school, and, for a great deal of time, maintaining two separate households. We loved and celebrated and fought with equal amounts of passion and energy. We were exhausted together. Our relationship was always a bit unconventional and it worked for us. And I have no doubt that he was my soul mate. The problem lies in how we define a soul mate and what we expect from them.

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. 
A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. 
A soul mate's purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master...” ― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

 And if that's the case, then I don't want another soul mate. I don't need to be shaken up any more in life. My heart has been broken so wide open that not another ray of light could possibly find it's way in. What I need is a partner who wants nothing more than to wholeheartedly enjoy all that life has to offer, with a smile and a little zippity-do-dah attitude. The time I've spent over the last year or so with a focus on really understanding what I want and who I want to be has affirmed for me that the most important thing I can do is to have a fulfilling and wholesome relationship with myself... before I am a mother, a spouse, a friend, an employee, a volunteer...I have to be my complete self, and be happy with it.

"We are walking around like a circle half complete. You know, we look like the letter C. We are very susceptible to a person of the opposite sex, some other circle half complete, coming up and joining with us- completing the circle that was-and giving us a burst of euphoria and energy that feels like the wholeness that a full connection with the universe produces. In reality, we have only joined up with another person who is looking for their other half on the outside too."  - The Celestine Prophecy

For the first time in my life, I feel like I am a complete person, all on my own, without anyone else's permission or propping up. My fellowship has helped me identify my passions and give them shape and purpose. My path has become clearer, especially as law school draws ever nearer. I know that I am on my way to becoming the very best possible version of myself, and learning to humbly appreciate the awesomeness of who I am and what I am capable of doing. When I enter into the next chapter of my journey, I want to be my very own complete circle so that I am not dependent on another person to be my source of happiness, so that I can appreciate him for everything he has to offer without expecting anything more or different than everything he already is. It's high time I planted some sunflowers of happiness in a field that has lay fallow and dreary for a very, very long season. I'm ready for spring.