Last night I resumed my binge watching the series Nashville on Netflix. I’d enjoyed that show when it first came out in 2012 until it ended in 2018. I liked the drama around musicians and was familiar with the city of Nashville, where my younger son went to college. Now, I can slip into a few episodes of escape and find relief from whatever has me weighed down–whether it’s politics or household chores that need my attention.

When I watched last evening, I found it ironic that in one of those episodes, Rayna and Teddy were in the lawyer’s office signing their divorce papers. I was married when I first watched Nashville and had no idea that I’d be one of those people who were divorced. Yesterday was the 5th anniversary of our divorce.

We didn’t go to the lawyer’s office, or even the courthouse, for the ending of our marriage. It was 2020 and we were in the midst of the Covid lockdown. I remembered how that day felt by looking back at my blog post:

“Yesterday our divorce went to the Orange County court. A judge was sitting in a courtroom and going through all the cases that would have been handled in person by lawyers– were it not this unusual pandemic year. I imagined the judge in a dimly lit, drafty room, sitting and reading the facts on each page– faceless couples requesting the judge to declare their marriage was over.”

from When It’s Over 11/22/20

I remembered feeling unsettled that day, like “What are you supposed to do the day your marriage is ending?” When it began, you were certain of what to do; get ready for your wedding and all the guests who’d come to witness that happy day.

But there was no official protocol for the last day. What did I need to do to recognize that day, to honor the huge change that was taking place in my life?

I took the afternoon off and wrote out my feelings–my usual way of coping. I started with a sheet of paper and on one side I wrote “Gains” and the other “Losses.” Years ago I read that with any loss, there are both pluses and minuses–even if at first it may seem that there’s only loss. I filled each side of the page, thinking of both small and large things.

I considered my list as I watched the sun go down over a lake at a park I’d never visited. It felt right to be in a new place while I let go of the familiar and anticipated my next chapter.

When I returned to my apartment, I burned the paper of Losses and put the list of Gains inside my journal. That was my Rite of Passage, my funeral ceremony allowing me to let go. Now, five years later, I think of all the times I’ve remembered that service and how it marked the end and the beginning. I also remember a quote that I read that helped me in anticipating the next chapter:

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell

I don’t know what is happening in your life, what plans that you have that aren’t as you anticipated. My hope and prayer for you, for all of us, is that we can let go and live into this Great Mystery that is life. I had no idea when I first watched Nashville that my life would turn out the way it has. But now, I’ve found a new world that has made me more fully who I was meant to be.

For that, I’m grateful in this season of Thanksgiving.

Blessings on Your Life,

Connie