Evolution: The Mumm/Mom-O

This is a difficult post for me to write. And yet, I feel it is not only necessary but hope it might just be helpful for others. You see, nobody can really tell you how to explain to your then 6 year old child that their entire life is going to change. To shift. That the little three-person family they have known for their entire existence is going to disintegrate. Yes. Of course, most people say things like: "Don't stay together because of the children." Especially sensitive children. And in my deepest heart I know that my own happiness and well-being directly affects Xavier. That if I can be strong enough, brave enough to live fully from the heart. If I can aspire and genuinely attempt to continuously grow as a person, to embrace the world with open arms and to learn from life's lessons, well, he will learn that too. On the other hand, we could have stayed all together. This, I believe, would have taught him to sacrifice. To settle. To live a life that is ok, that isn't necessarily bad, that has good moments, but that lacks integrity. That refuses to admit the sad loneliness of lost connection.

Years. Literally years were spent in contemplation. In efforts to renew. To fix. To grow back into something that felt like spikes tearing at my soul. It became clear to both of us, to my son's dad and I: "You're right. We really aren't good for each other." You know? A relationship, a good one, I think, should consist of two people who can really hold ladder's up. For each other. I was never able to figure out how to offer a steady ladder and have it received. My ladders looked like the ladders I would have liked...

That's another story. The point is. We knew. It was time to move forward. But still. Nobody tells you how to have that conversation with your kid. How do you explain that, though you do still love each other, that love understands that staying together lessens the love. Mutates it. Stifles it. Hurts, even. "If you love someone, set them free," and all that jazz. But it's true.

I considered for a long time how to have this conversation. Lived in the closet of not voicing aloud what was going on. At one point I remembered Shel Silverstein's work "The Missing Piece Meets the big-O." I even found an animated video of it:

Moral of the story: A triangular wedge is looking for somewhere, someone, to fit inside. To roll with. The wedge, the "missing piece" tries several partners. They all fail in the end. And then "missing piece" meets a big O. "O" can roll solo. Wedge learns from "O" and starts flipping and flopping along. Eventually "piece's" corners begin to round. After much flipping and flopping and bumping and bopping, "piece" becomes and "O" too.

Xavier and I watched the video. Then I said, "You know. When your dad and I met, we were like half-circles I think. We rolled along nicely together. We had great times! We even made you, a little humongous awesome "O" to come roll along! But somewhere along, we started growing. It got harder and harder to roll together. So now we both realize that we need some time to learn how to roll on our own. To get rounded. Centred. And we both love you very very much. But we won't all live together anymore."

He got quiet. He pondered. His life had just been shattered. His bright blue eyes glazed a little. And then he looked at me with deeper wisdom than I can even claim to understand and said: "Mama. You are very wise."

Wise? Maybe. Blessed beyond words? Most definitely. For certain. We live in two places now. He calls my place "The Mumm-O" and his dad's, "The Dad Pad."

I hope you all stay lasting in love and light. That you can keep the love in your family strong and true. If one day you too have to have the most difficult conversation ever, it's ok too. I try, and don't always succeed, to do everything I do with Love as my intention. Acting and being Love. I do think we are all better, fuller, more Love-filled people these days. It isn't always easy, just like life never is. But it feels True. And the rolling along is painful sometimes. Some corners need grinding to smooth out. Fire and brimstone to release those patterns. But life is also beautiful and familiar. The Way is simple and pleasant.

Blessings.