The Professor, My Teacher

                                                                                                 

      “I’m not a teacher: only a fellow traveler of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead – ahead of myself as well as you.” – George Benard Shaw

For a year after the divorce, I continued doing my personal work, spending time with my children and close friends, and handling my busy law and mediation practice.  One day Joe, the man who schedules my mediations at the court program, sent me an email .

“Do you think you are ready to meet a guy?”

Yikes! Was I ready to meet a man? Although I was not searching for romance, I knew it was probably a good idea to start meeting people outside my cocoon.  I said “yes” to Joe’s inquiry and he set up a dinner on the patio of a local restaurant to introduce me to Cal. Joe and his wife agreed to accompany us because I was a nervous wreck.

When I walked up to the table, Cal stood, introducing himself and extending his hand.  I immediately felt at ease and sensed a gentle energy.  He pulled my chair out so I could be seated. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked as Joe ordered up a round of beers for all of us.  Cal and I began that awkward chitchat when you first meet someone, only with Cal it was easy and fun.  We continued to chat after Joe and his wife left and agreed to meet the following week.

Cal was a professor at the local medical school, and had been single for years after having been once divorced.  He was very dedicated to his work as an anatomist. “You have such a lovely clavicle” he’d commented when I wore a strapless dress to a party we attended after we began to spend time together. Spoken like a true anatomist.

Reclaiming Sacred Space

“When the clutter is gone, you will open yourself up for blessings, opportunities and other things the Lord wants to bring into your life. Quite often, the reason people hang on to clutter is because they are clinging to the past, or too focused on the future”– from the book “Decluttering Your Relationship With Stuff”, by Alicia Economos

On the day I filed for divorce from FP, I was in an out of body trance. The events and discussions leading to the divorce had culminated over the weekend. Monday morning I walked into my office zombielike, typed up the papers, and sent my associate attorney to the courthouse to file them.

I worked all day keeping my mind on my clients instead of my problems. When I got home that evening I plopped into my favorite overstuffed chair, physically and emotionally exhausted. Except for that favorite chair, FP had picked out most all of the other furniture in our modest townhome while I just went along.

As I sat down I had an overwhelming physical release of my shoulders, a literal lightness that came over them. I remember being stunned by the feeling and knowing instantaneously that it was God confirming I had done the right thing and He was taking the weight of the world off of my shoulders.

My friend Mary calls her home her “sacred space” and I realized my environment was more a cold set of rooms holding stuff that was not authentic to me. I put most of FPs selected dark masculine furniture into consignment and moved other of his selected pieces to the basement. I had all the walls painted a bright but warm beige, a good base for any color scheme I would later choose. I was reclaiming my sacred space.