Growth

"For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn't understand growth, it would look like complete destruction."--Cynthia Occelli

I saw this quote online about a week ago and it struck me. First of all, it's beautiful. And second...although you wouldn't know it by the look of the snow eddying outside my window...it's spring.

I love spring. I always have. Something new pokes through the soil each day and reaches its tender shoots toward the sun. Buds pop. Birds sing. Natural cycles that are so old that they've become hard to explain happen effortlessly. It amazes me at the strength of the tiniest forms of life. I've tried to dig in wintered soil many times and it's not a pleasant experience, and yet the tiniest of plants and organisms are so incredibly tenacious.

My heart's been broken. When I went back and read my last blog entry I was a little surprised that as recently as the 20th of January I possessed such objectivity about my past relationship. I seemed so level-headed! I knew then that our relationship might not work, and at that point it was sitting okay with me. So what on earth happened in those three weeks between January 20th and that final doomsday moment that leaves me reeling, still?

I've done a lot of reading about relationships, and heartbreak, and heartache. I've discovered that it's not just humans that feel it! There's a significant component of it that's classified as separation anxiety--and that experience can pretty be much generalized to all mammals. We rely on each other for energy, for love, and for safety; when the one who provides that is gone, the experience finds some species pacing relentlessly and others pathetically sniffling in corners. We all do it, and it actually serves evolutionary purpose! The pacing is nearly always temporary, while the pathetic sniffling might last a bit longer. But the curled-up-in-a-ball experience is, at its most fundamental level, about conserving energy...and that's a sound evolutionary adaptation. It turns out as long as people have been writing and recording their experiences, that heartbreak and feelings of rejection leaves people feeling pretty lost. Anthropologists believe (see, I told you I've been reading about this) that in hunter-gatherer societies, the depression that is experienced by spurned lovers was also adaptive. Because the emotion is so outwardly extreme, and cripples individuals so completely, social networks had no option but to notice, to rally around the suffering individual, and to chase the dastardly interloper out of town with clubs. Researchers have even actually proven that the opposite of love IS hate, and not indifference, because it is only hatred that is strong enough to drive out a once passionate love. (And again, from an evolutionary standpoint, what good does it do to continue to love someone who is no longer a viable partner for procreation?). Smart scientists!

Yes, it has allowed me to feel slightly more sane to know that feeling a little spurned, rejected, or abandoned leaves even rhesus monkeys feeling a little low, and yet I have been downright embarrassed by how ridiculous I feel. 

Being abandoned in your thirties carries a different kind of weight. Online guy and I talked about marriage, and children, and houses...and I sincerely believed we were heading in that direction. After January 20th I dedicated every ounce of energy to our relationship. I dealt with his indifference, his exhaustion, and his unkindness--trying always to respond always with a love and a resilience I conjured from someplace I don't even understand. It insulated me from his treatment to some degree, and yet my particular manifestation of this defense mechanism also prevented me from standing up for what I really deserved, (and it made him lose an element of respect for me as well). I let him lie to me and scream at me and stand me up. I truly felt that the problem had a complex source that was rooted internally within him...and over time I had come to understand it, and excuse it, and love it (and him!) anyway. And so when he "gave up," I couldn't understand. And when he moved on so quickly, I was just unbelievably hurt. I didn't know I could be in my mid-thirties and have my world so rocked. But I did.

So what have I gained? A knowledge that I can run marathons, and that training for one is a whole lot better if you've got someone else around. I've gained a new appreciation for my friends and family who have been eternally patient, understanding, and kind...and who have adopted a 20th century manifestation of the hunter-gather club chasing that has been borderline humorous. I've been reminded, yet again, that I need to listen to my gut early on--before emotions and love get involved (because those can confuse even someone who IS actually logical). I've learned that there are limits to how far even the most generous of people should extend their generosity. I've learned that sometimes trying to explain yourself makes you look downright pathetic and that there is wisdom in actually paying attention to someone's words and actions rather than looking for shreds of hope. And I've learned that I am alone right now because I choose to be--not because there aren't other people out there who would be perfectly fine "helping me" get over my former love (And that, by the way, is NOT the higher road...). 

I've felt totally destroyed over the past month (or two...), but now it's "grow" time. Enough sniffling in corners. I know I deserve more. I know it's out there...if I can just reach my tender shoots a little higher.