Yesterday I talked (on the phone) to a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. She lives in another province and our paths don’t usually cross. She told me her life had recently been turned upside-down. Again. About ten years ago her husband, after they came home from a party, had gone out to buy milk for the morning and he never came back. When he tried to avoid an animal that was crossing the country road, he had swerved and crashed the car (and been killed instantly). Their marriage, passionate and often stormy, had been good before he died. He left her with two young children and a big house.
Soon after, a man came to buy her husband’s car. They fell in love, moved to a bigger house away from memories and started a business together. But within the last couple of years this man started playing with a young woman who was working in their business, moved in with her, and it has been a painful story once again. And now my friend can look back on how belittling this man had been to her and her children when they were together. She took refuge in the man and this doesn’t work.
This was hard to hear. How easily/quickly a person can overlook/ignore the difficulties/abuse in a relationship in order to have (temporary/imagined) relief from that ever-present human condition—loneliness. The night before I had had a dream where the main character was my ex-husband. After thirty years of being apart, he still has the power to invade my dreams and exert control (in my dream), especially when I am having difficulties, feeling under stress. Here he was trying to prevent me from going to a meditation event and had also dressed me in embarrassing clothes (that I covered up with a white jacket) and a newspaper to read at the event (which I left by the door without his noticing). At least I got out the door.
Which is where I am going now. To a meditation practice at our local St. Margaret’s Bay Centre. No quick (or external) fixes.