Pigs, positivity and breakups

Seeking meaning when your life gets churned up

Photo by Andrew Wilkinson on Unsplash

“You know, I just realised one morning that I needed to stop being sad, put my breakup, my pain, my disappointment behind me and get on with life. So, I did” my friend says, beaming at me “and I’ve never looked back!”

That sounds distinctly appealing. It’s rather different from other friends telling me that “the first two/three/five years are the worst…”. Just deciding to change is how some people give up smoking, alcohol or chocolate, so why not? I start trying to put it into practice. Will power, determination, positive feeling – yes, I’ve got plenty of those. Just be purposeful, resilient and get on with life. Cool. But…

But it doesn’t quite seem to fit. For one, I’m not very good at compartmentalising. Just as I have spent years developing a sense of boundaries around what is mine and what is others, I also don’t have a stack of internal boundaries, neatly dividing past, present and future. And even if I can, do I really want to put it all behind me so quickly. Is there something there I need to be listening to? Or might I be holding on to a narrative that doesn’t really allow this, which is a bit stuck?

I notice as I scroll through websites on top tips for recovering from a break-up that the simple exertion of will-power is generally not included. They talk about acknowledging your feelings, looking after yourself, talking to friends and doing things you enjoy, i.e. being miserable, but doing as much with other people that you can cope with. There is a process of working through the grief of loss, experiencing the shock, denial, anger, and sadness, allowing acceptance to gradually take root. And recovery takes longer for some people than others. I imagine nurturing this delicate plant as it uncurls from the seed and pushes up towards the light. It takes energy to break out of the acorn, to stretch roots down to start growing towards the surface, first small and vulnerable, then taller and stronger. This does need will-power and positive intention, for sure.

It might seem that my friend has gone to the garden centre and planted a well-grown sapling, stalwart and ready to bloom and flourish. That’s a quick way to create a garden, but is it how I wish to, or can, create mine?

My philosophy is one of connection, allowing feelings to surface (including the commentary that I wish they would go away) and sitting with them, trying to welcome all, however uncomfortable. I understand the essence of spirituality as connection, which as human beings starts with your feelings and emotions. St Ignatius is quoted as saying that the path to God is through the emotions, and as a spiritually orientated psychotherapist that sounds good to me.

If we are too quick to dismiss our feelings, we may miss an opportunity to learn. Crises and change come into our lives at particular times. We may not welcome them, and I find another friend’s favourite saying: “we are all exactly where we are supposed to be, right now” both annoying and very reassuring.

Taking time allows the learning to emerge from the pain and distress, to start to open up the opportunities that a major change in life circumstances offers. At the start you can feel you are doing well, keeping yourself busy, immersing yourself in the practicalities of creating a new life. The questions that matter are basic: where will you live? How will you survive financially? How will you support any children emotionally and practically?

But then, when the busy-ness subsides, waves of emotion and exhaustion come flooding in, overwhelming and intense. As time passes the waves start to become less frequent and less energetic, though with surprising breakers that dash you back onto the sand. The pain hasn’t disappeared but the feelings are starting to move from raw to tender, a wound easily reopened.

And at this point, you may be ready for some potentially healing questions:

· What is so important that you can only learn it in this difficult way?

· What does the end of your relationship allow you to do that you could not do before? (Maybe a deeper answer as well as the obvious one!)

· What does it mean for ideas of right and wrong to fully accept the situation and emerge from it?

And revisiting the big one:

· What do you want to do with your one wild and precious life?

I don’t know the answer to any of these, but they feel like the right questions to be asking.

So where are the pigs? In rewilding projects, introducing pigs for short periods helps nature to recover by churning up the earth, in contrast to sheep who look prettier but may compact and solidify the soil. The pigs create micro-environments for different plants and animals to flourish, and bring seeds to the surface. They need to be moved on after they have done their work otherwise the whole place ends up a muddy mess. We need movement and flow, just as we need to recognise that there is a right time for everything.

I rather envy my friend: just close up the box, escape the mud, smile and leap forward into life. But that’s him, and maybe it was the right time for him to make that shift. This is me and I’m maybe not there yet. I’m excited about exploring these questions, and finding a narrative that will bring meaning to my experiences. It would be really cool if I could find a story that suggests that this unexpected derailing is a great opportunity for growth and new love. And even better if I could not just find the story, as it is already there, but fully believe it. That’s the work!