Laissez les crap temps rouler
First, a programming note: On Wednesday, Sept. 1, Moxie and I are going to be on TV. (I know!) It’s a new show hosted by Gov. Mike Huckabee that is thankfully less political and more Dr. Phillish. I think our segment went well—I remember John O’Hurley talking about how he owns a company that turns poop into propane or something—but frankly, the whole experience is still a blur. (Sort of like my wedding, come to think of it.) The show airs in Atlanta, Boston, Dallas, Detroit, New York, Minneapolis, and Tampa, and if you’re a resident of those Lucky Seven and would like to tune in, you can check your local listings here.
I think I remember the governor asking us how we’re able to write this blog, and Moxie did a great job of answering that question last week. I’m sure at some point we’ll be expounding on each of the elements on that list, and I’d like to add one more: We’re co-parenting better now because time has helped us move on and forgive.
We all know break-ups are terrible. Divorce with kids takes that feeling and vivifies it a thousandfold, because the person you once loved, whom you chose to be your life partner, is suddenly on the other side of the table. And because the kids keep you linked forever, it’s up to you to decide whether you’re going to spend your life tied up in knots of despair and loathing, or you’re going to understand how holding a grudge is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.
In my case, it’s especially complicated when the other person is yourself.
I didn’t have many kind words for Moxie when our marriage first came apart. But when she asked for the divorce, it didn’t take long for me to realize that she was right. I had a much harder time forgiving myself for steering my life into such a mess. It took me a long time to let the crap times run their course, and finally frame this as an opportunity to make peace with a lot of Awful and dare to reach for higher ground.
Anyway, I hope you’ll watch the show because one of the other guests was Jonas Beiler, author of Think No Evil, the story of how an Amish community recovered after a gunman killed five little girls in a schoolhouse. You watch a story like that, and you realize that your own little story of love gone sour isn’t as big a deal as you might have thought. And that although the world may be drowning in poop, there’s a lot of propane to be made from it.