it's still worth being here

There I was. Sitting in pure, brutal agony agony of witnessing two people who once loved each other now splitting up. So many thoughts and questions raced through my mind. “What do I say?”, “Why does this have to happen?” and “How can I be supportive to each party without being bias?”

Growing up in a more conservative, religious family and social circle, there was a high value put on loyalty and working through hard things. But, I wasn't about to try to save anyone in this conversation or project my ideal outcome onto them.

The painful reality of life is that we cannot control anything outside of ourselves.

This couple had been together six years and had just gotten married last year. Six years of a shared life, countless memories and taking vows before the closest people in their lives, and here we are having a final conversation about how to end this relationship amicably. It's crazy to even think about it and it's painful to accept.

We each have that reality in us; the capacity to fully give up and to fully show up. Yes, in relationships and in big decisions, but even more so in the every day.

One partner was asking all the right questions. “Why can't you try?”, “How can you explain that you are unhappy?”, “Can't you be willing to work through it to try to be happy?” They were seeking to understand, connect, and find resolution. The other partner sat silently looking away. So disconnected from their self and the relationship. They had no ability to be present outside of the rational and logical mind. Who knows their intentions, but they were short and robotic- like in their responses.

We can get so removed from our emotions and the deeper parts of ourselves, that our responses can sound like reading a textbook instead of reading poetry. In a world that idolizes rationalism, it’s the unexplainable things in life that most change us.

Who knows what's going to happen next. With five minutes left in the session, we came to the only point that allows anything to move forward: raw and brutal honesty. Each party stated exactly what they were open and willing to do. No bullshit. Every moment counted with making decisions that would change the trajectory of each person’s life.

This isn't a court case where anyone is forced to do anything. And, even if it was, the success rate of court mandated attendance are minimal. It shows that pure will power and brute force don’t bring lasting change.

There were so many things said in that conversation that hurt to hear, even meeting these people for the first time. Having empathy is a gift, but it can also be quite the burden. We ended the session with the partner who is willing to try expressing this relationship being the biggest regret of their life.

The other continued to sit in silence and simply said they needed time. How much time, they weren't sure. It was somewhere in between where they were currently and never seen each other again. As complex and difficult as it was, I'm thankful I had that session with them. Sitting in the complexities and ambiguities of trying to make sense of it all and communicate what each person needed.

I logged off the session, took a massive sigh, and buried my head in my arms. I didn't even know what to think or feel. It was surreal. I had to just be there in the moment. I sat on my front porch on a rainy Tuesday night, hearing the neighbor's kid play piano, calmly. The last few raindrops of the storm falling on leaves, taking it all in. I still don't know what to make of it but I know it made me be honest with myself and present.

I know I could have done better in the session. But I showed up. I was open to trying to be helpful, and be a loving and safe space for each party involved.

I'm not sure if they felt that way, but I do know that I've never been so at peace with trying in something and not knowing what the outcome will be.

I'm so thankful I'm in a relationship and marriage that decides to show up and try. It’s far from perfect and ironically, has helped prepare me to stay present in this session where, in my opinion, the worst unfolded. But that's life. If it all worked out, all the time, we would never learn or grow.

I wish that couple the best and know that I will think about them from time to time. The looks on their faces, the heartbreak in their vocal tones, the wrestling with having to face the unknown, both together and separately.

We don’t take risks, show up or try at anything for the sake of it working out, but rather, in the hopes that it’s worth doing.

Thomas Merton said, “It’s quite possible that we to the end of our lives and never meet the person we were made to be”.

Decide to show up. Sometimes things work out and sometimes they end in death, loss and suffering. Feel it all, be honest, and try to work through it. It’s worth it.

Questions

• What do you need to show up in?

• Why have you given up on certain things? Why have you persevered?

• What does it look like to show up to your life?