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As you walk away, think of all the joy we shared

If you decide you need me, I'll be wondering if I care

Not there to soothe your soul, friend to tender friend

I think our love is coming to an end.

Soul and Fire ~ Sebedoh

Even now, more than halfway through the mediation process, it is so hard to believe my marriage is actually ending. I wake up some nights in a blind panic feeling like, "what the hell am I doing?" along with the sinking dreadful thought that I might be making the biggest mistake of my life.

How did we get here?

It's a question I've asked myself a million times.

He gave me this album to listen to on one of our very first dates. This, and a short stack of what I now know to be a pretty achingly honest musical anthology of his heart. There was Lois, and The Modern Lovers, and The Smiths, and Morphine, and Small Factory. The songs felt exotic and wild to my Top 20 pop music listening ears. He felt like the whole unknown world at my fingertips, when I met him.

Twenty four years and two children later it seems unfathomable that we got it wrong, but after peeling back every layer and examining it all at close range for so long, I think the truest thing I can say today is that I loved Alex with every fiber of my being and I think I also always knew in some way were weren't meant to be. Maybe that's the hardest part, my own complicity in all of this and how somewhere along the way I switched off my own internal compass so that I could stay inside a relationship that always whispered to me in one way or another... go.

I've read these lines from Cheryl Strayed's letter, over and over:

Go, even though you love him.
Go, even though he’s kind and dear to you.
Go, even though he’s your best friend and you’re his.
Go, even though you can’t imagine your life without him.
Go, even though he adores you and your leaving will devastate him.
Go, even though your friends will be disappointed or surprised or pissed off or all three.
Go, even though you once said you would stay.
Go, even though you’re afraid of being alone.
Go, even though you’re sure no one will ever love you as well as he does.
Go, even though there is nowhere to go.
Go, even though you don’t know exactly why you can’t stay.
Go, because you want to.
Because wanting to leave is enough.

And so I am currently reconciling with the actual going. Some days this looks like just sitting with the grief, which can often feel unending and excruciating. Other days it feels like something closer to acceptance and even joy, setting down the weight of everything I made myself to carry over the years. Most days it is a mix of both, in addition to the very real and busy tasks of gathering paperwork, going to work, taking care of my kids and their hearts, divvying up the things, and finding whatever it takes to keep showing up to this life with faith and resilience. 
So much space is opening up in the process, and in that space I find my sacral fire alive and well. It's an odd juxtaposition to what otherwise feels very much like a time of death, discordant things living side by side in every moment; relief and fear, longing and anger, worry and certainty, and a million other warring emotions crisscrossing my internal sky.
Today I'm thinking about what my own musical anthology might be. Definitely this version of this song, and maybe this one my kids and I have been singing, and yes this song from our past, for sure. 
Any other suggestions for a good torch song playlist? Give em to me.... go....

(and thank you so very much for being here <3)


  1. Hi Mindy, here's the song from my current internal playlist..

    1. It's Joni Mitchell..All I Want - not sure why the link didn't go through

    2. love Joni! thanks for the reccomendation... off to listen.

  2. I don't know if the lyrics are appropriate but it certainly always engages me with my feelings:

    1. any music medicine feels good and sweet right now... thank you!

  3. I have been enjoying this trio’s sound. I hope you enjoy it too ❤️


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