Dashing, daring, dynamic, devilishly handsome dude dashes the dreams of damsel in distress, or some variation thereof, is the story of almost every divorce. The common thread is heartbreak, dard-e-dil. That's because marriage itself is based on the premise, if not the promise, of two hearts beating as one - what divorce does is slice through those two hearts that are meant to beating as one.
You can reason all you want but the fact remains that a divorce is a heart-wrenching and life-changing experience. When two people set out to build a life together, they usually give it everything they've got, often for years on end. They don't calculate how much it is OK to give and much they must withhold.
And then suddenly it all vanishes into thin air. The memories behind the many photos you clicked together fade and everything seems like a mirage: the times you went house hunting, the furniture you carefully selected for the home and the delicious times spent in bed together, the waking up, the memory of a song that made you both smile and the exact moment when you both would laugh together at a private joke that only you knew. All because of a deadly petition for divorce.
"[I]n detaching, you move away slowly, naturally. It's like the heart has floated away from the spouse."
However much we may try to deny the existence of the petition by non-acceptance (it can't be happening to me) or complaining (this is not fair and I don't deserve this), the divorce petition states reality in harsh, unavoidable terms. And you and I both know the power of words to hurt, harm or heal.
Since the marriage has ended, why not detach the heart from the spouse, instead of breaking it into a million pieces, by insisting that you are still two hearts beating as one? Detaching is really different from dividing. In a division, you hack through something to turn one into two, but in detaching, you move away slowly, naturally. It's like the heart has floated away from the spouse.
After all, if we are now functioning as two separate individuals who are not joined by holy matrimony and are divided by a divorce petition then why let the poor heart break into pieces and continue suffering interminably.
I think we practise the art of self-deception, which makes us feel that we are still together and our choices will impact the other person. As a result, we want to inflict the maximum pain on them. But in doing so we continue to inflict unnecessary pain on ourselves.
If we were to start practising a different art of self-deception and believe that we are now free to do what we want and that we now have full ownership of our heart, it would be a relief like no other. Suddenly, the world would seem a different place where the same deadly words that were used to hurt can now be used to heal, and you know why? Because your heart chooses it that way and now you are the sole owner of your heart. We can slowly start replacing visions of heartbreak with happier images of a single self.
Is it going to be tough? Hell, yes! That's why I said slowly start replacing the heartbroken images. But you need to do it because, like I said, but it's your heart and now you can safely move it to a place where it belongs to no one but you. You can nurture it carefully to become strong again and rewrite a happier ending for the dil -- minus the dard.
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You can reason all you want but the fact remains that a divorce is a heart-wrenching and life-changing experience. When two people set out to build a life together, they usually give it everything they've got, often for years on end. They don't calculate how much it is OK to give and much they must withhold.
And then suddenly it all vanishes into thin air. The memories behind the many photos you clicked together fade and everything seems like a mirage: the times you went house hunting, the furniture you carefully selected for the home and the delicious times spent in bed together, the waking up, the memory of a song that made you both smile and the exact moment when you both would laugh together at a private joke that only you knew. All because of a deadly petition for divorce.
"[I]n detaching, you move away slowly, naturally. It's like the heart has floated away from the spouse."
However much we may try to deny the existence of the petition by non-acceptance (it can't be happening to me) or complaining (this is not fair and I don't deserve this), the divorce petition states reality in harsh, unavoidable terms. And you and I both know the power of words to hurt, harm or heal.
Since the marriage has ended, why not detach the heart from the spouse, instead of breaking it into a million pieces, by insisting that you are still two hearts beating as one? Detaching is really different from dividing. In a division, you hack through something to turn one into two, but in detaching, you move away slowly, naturally. It's like the heart has floated away from the spouse.
After all, if we are now functioning as two separate individuals who are not joined by holy matrimony and are divided by a divorce petition then why let the poor heart break into pieces and continue suffering interminably.
I think we practise the art of self-deception, which makes us feel that we are still together and our choices will impact the other person. As a result, we want to inflict the maximum pain on them. But in doing so we continue to inflict unnecessary pain on ourselves.
If we were to start practising a different art of self-deception and believe that we are now free to do what we want and that we now have full ownership of our heart, it would be a relief like no other. Suddenly, the world would seem a different place where the same deadly words that were used to hurt can now be used to heal, and you know why? Because your heart chooses it that way and now you are the sole owner of your heart. We can slowly start replacing visions of heartbreak with happier images of a single self.
Is it going to be tough? Hell, yes! That's why I said slowly start replacing the heartbroken images. But you need to do it because, like I said, but it's your heart and now you can safely move it to a place where it belongs to no one but you. You can nurture it carefully to become strong again and rewrite a happier ending for the dil -- minus the dard.
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