10 Ways Your Divorce Makes You Even Better Than Before

I don’t think anyone ever responds to the childhood question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” with “Divorced.” Yet, for many of us, the end of a marriage does become part of our life story. I know I don’t have to point out the downsides of divorce to you; after all, they have a way of speaking for themselves.

But what about the upsides? What about the ways that your divorce, even if it was of the unwanted or malignant variety, has made you better than before?

Because whether you realize it or not, divorce (like many other life challenges) has changed you. Shaped you. Strengthened you.

Its harsh grit has left you polished. Its demands have made you grow. And the pain has left its mark. You aren’t the same person you were before. You’re better.

Read the rest at The Good Men Project and join the conversation!

Run the Mile You’re In

run the mile you're in

One of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received came from an experienced runner coaching me on my first (and only!) marathon:

“Run the mile you’re in,” she said.

“At each point in the course, you will be constantly aware of where you are and how far you still have to go. It can be daunting, especially in those first few miles when those early doubts start to creep in. So when you’re in the 5th mile, be in the 5th mile. Worrying about or impatiently wanting mile 25 won’t make the current one any easier.”

We often want to be where we are not. Rather than find peace in our present, we yearn for some idealized future. We allow fears of what is coming to cripple us with what is and we fail to look around because we are so busy looking ahead.

Life has no finish line.

Live the moment you’re in.

 

 

Choosing Poorly

I made a poor choice this past Saturday.

I didn’t know it at the time, but by lunchtime today, it was beyond clear.

The broccoli, purchased on Saturday, was bad.

On Saturday, I had no way of knowing that rot lay just beneath the surface of the little cruciferous trees. I make an effort to “eat the rainbow” every week at lunch and I lacked a green hue. The broccoli sported no brown spots and carried no fetid odor. That, and the fact they were on sale clinched the deal – it was to be a week of broccoli for lunch.

Except a week turned into one day when the bad odor greeted me from the microwave today and the blackened and soggy end conformed it. Yesterday, I enjoyed my broccoli. Today, it horrified me. And, upon returning home, I immediately purged my fridge of all of its brethren and found a replacement side in the freezer.

And that happens sometimes.

We choose poorly.

Not just broccoli. But jobs. Homes. Financial moves.

Even, and maybe especially, spouses.

We make subpar choices motivated by the catchy signs that distract us from what we really need to see. Or, we see no immediate impairment and so we assume the coast is clear. We make a decision based upon some factors while we studiously ignore others.

Perhaps we know immediately that the choice was a bad one. Yet all too often, we get to enjoy our choice for a time (after all, there is a reason you made it) before becoming aware of the other side.

Now, you can berate yourself for choosing poorly. Call yourself “stupid” as you endlessly play back the faulty selection.

Or, you can instead be grateful for the time you enjoyed when you thought you had chosen well and learn how to pick better the next time.

The Shortcut for Healing After Divorce

Every spring, I hear a common refrain in my classroom. Almost as predictable and consistent as the tree frogs singing outside.

We are at the point in the curriculum where topics have built and overlapped upon each other until a single problem can take up half of a piece of paper. Each day, as I painstakingly go over each step (after anchoring the new material to the known and illustrating the meaning behind the process), I inevitably hear a voice, “Okay, so what’s the shortcut?” And then, since 8th graders are famous for tuning out, I hear the same question repeated throughout the class.

And I have to be the one to break it to them.

There is no shortcut.

There is only process.

One step at a time that breaks the seemingly insurmountable heap of algebra into smaller and smaller digestible pieces.

Until the x has been stripped of all its mystery and power and isolated on the other side of the equal sign.

I hear a similar refrain the newly divorced throughout the year. The words vary, but the intent is the same:

“What’s the shortcut to healing?”

And I have to be the one to break it to them.

There is no shortcut.

There is only process.

One step at a time that breaks the seemingly insurmountable heap of hurt into smaller and smaller digestible pieces.

Until the ex has been stripped of all his or her mystery and power and isolated on the other side of the mental divide.

I teach my students about the power of intention. I coach them to remind themselves at the outset of a problem what they are trying to accomplish. Then, at each step along the way, I ask them to question if that choice helps them reach their stated goal.

As newly-minted mathematicians, they make mistakes and often work inefficiently. Yet, if they keep their goal in mind, they get there, even if it takes more paper or the use of an eraser. And, by remembering their intention, they know when they are finished and the goal has been reached.

Healing is no different. Set your intention at the outset. What are you trying to accomplish? Before you act, ask yourself if it helps you move towards your goal. If you misstep, don’t stop. Simply back up and try a new path.

I work to set a classroom environment where mistakes are opportunities and it is okay to ask for assistance. I alternately push them and praise them as I move them along. I aim for them to always be a little uncomfortable; too easy and they don’t grow, too hard and they give up in frustration.

Make your environment a positive one. Surround yourself with the right people. Learn from mistakes. Ask for help when you need it. And strive to keep yourself just a little bit out of your comfort zone. That’s where the magic happens.

When my students ask me about a shortcut, I try to listen to their complaints. Yes, I admit to them, the process is somewhat arduous and has places where they may falter. Yes, I agree with their cries, that that they may make many mistakes and that starting over is both frustrating and disheartening. And yes, I empathize with their pleas, that they wish they didn’t have to do this.

And after I listen, I reassure.

Yes, you may stumble. And if you keep moving towards your goal, you will get there.

Yes, it will be difficult sometimes. And when you reach your goal, you will be stronger than ever before.

Yes, there are times it will feel impossible. And you will feel so amazing when you accomplish the impossible.

Yes, I will be here for you when you need me. And I will help you need me a little less every day.

Yes, you can do this. And once you believe you can, you will.

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Ruminating vs. Processing. Do You Know the Difference?

I often find that people are confused about the difference between ruminating on the past and processing the past. They think they are doing one when, in reality, they are often doing more of the other. I can see where the confusion exists – both ruminating and processing involve thinking about (and perhaps talking about) the past.

And that’s about where the similarities end.

So then what does separate ruminating from processing?

Ruminating

tangleRumination starts in the past and it stays in the past. It starts with thought and it stays with thought. It is time spent pondering the “what ifs” and playing choose-your-own-adventure with experiences now past. Rumination gets you nowhere. It has no goal and no purpose apart from endlessly exploring those well-tread mental paths. It can be a trap as its labyrinthine cords bind you to your past. Rumination thrives on recursive thought, one idea leading you to the next and to the next with no external input.

It’s easy to ruminate. Trigger a sad memory and this can easily be the default setting initiated. It’s the automatic pilot of the traumatized mind. It takes no energy to sustain and, in fact, requires energy to break out of its insidious cycle. Excessive rumination may be a sign of depression. If you find that you are having difficulty breaking out of the cycle, seek help. It’s out there.

Processing

smoothProcessing may initiate from the past, but it is then future-focused. It begins with thought and then continues in action. Unlike the unfocused meandering of rumination, processing is directed. There is an end goal in mind and steps are taken to reach that intention.

When you’re processing, you’re not just going over it.

You’re making sense of it.

It’s difficult to process. First, you have to summon the courage to face things you would rather bury and leave for dead. Then, you have to be willing to take responsibility not only for your part in whatever happened, but also for your well-being going forward. The past must be examined for patterns and connections. New input needs to be considered and assumptions dropped; the well-worn mental paths may indeed be missteps and it might be time to carve some new ones. Those memories can be combed through until sense is made and the endless loops are broken.

And then comes the hardest part. Processing requires action.

It’s not just your thoughts that need to change in order to release the past.

You do.