It’s midnight-thirty, Mom and Dad are watching the world series, and I really have no idea what to talk about. Personally, I think we could all use a break from discussing The Daily Snot Report and What Time Marcus Woke Up This Afternoon (2:30). But what else is there? This evening I went to Walmart to look for a magnesium supplement in the pharmacy section, but there were so many options that I got overwhelmed, threw up my hands, and walked to the dairy section instead. (I can usually find answers in the dairy section.) That being said, I’m still having muscle spasms in my leg, so if anyone would like to suggest a miracle magnesium product, go ahead.

I’d prefer one that goes well with cheese.

Lately I’ve had just a skosh of writer’s block, usually toward the end of each blog. I think it’s because I haven’t been feeling well and my body and mind are tired. It probably doesn’t help that I’ve been blogging after midnight. I’m a night owl, but even I’ll grant that four in the morning is not my finest hour for putting a sentence together. Anyway, several times this last week I’ve said–out loud–to the muse, “Come on, I could use a little help here.” So maybe tonight the muse is on vacation, pissed off, or sleeping with someone else. Ugh–another cheater–that’s just what I need.

This afternoon I had coffee with a friend who was recently dumped. Being dumped is never fun, of course, but it sounded like it needed to happen. I won’t go into details, but I’m sure you can imagine a situation in which you hang on to someone who’s a total shit-show because you keep hoping that person will change. When things finally come to an end, part of you knows it’s for the best, but most of you is devastated. At least that’s been my experience. People say things like, “You’re better off,” “Time heals all wounds,” and “There are plenty of fish in the sea,” but none of that helps put your heart back together. After all, what good is a sea full of fish when you’re drowning?

As my friend told their story, I completely related–not to the specifics, but to the heartache that comes after a breakup. That’s what I was going through four years ago when I started therapy. It felt like there was a hole in the middle of my chest. On the surface I was going through the motions, but inside I was lost in the woods. A fucking mess, those were the exact words my therapist used to describe me. As if the sorrow weren’t enough, I also had to find a place to live. My friend is in a similar situation–everything familiar is being dismantled at once. God–sometimes life can really turn up the heat.

“It sounds like the universe has you by the balls,” I said.

What I meant by that statement is that I no longer believe the major events in our lives are accidental. Caroline Myss says, “God stops your life in order to step in it,” and that’s been my experience. Looking back, I absolutely needed to be cheated on and heartbroken. I don’t hope it will happen again, and I don’t recommend it, but that’s what it took to get me to therapy and raise my damn standards. Having come through the last four years, I can see that all my fears were unfounded. There hasn’t been a day I haven’t been provided for. It took time, of course, but I eventually found a place to live, and it ended up being the perfect place to heal my heart. There I also learned about boundaries, being authentic, and speaking my truth. In short, it was the place I learned to take care of myself.

The way I see it now, dramatic upsets in our lives are like being forced down a rabbit hole. Suddenly you’re falling, tumbling into a new world, searching for solid ground. But there isn’t any–nothing is ever solid. Even if it were, we wouldn’t realize it after a trauma because the territory is not familiar. Familiar is where we came from–our old world, the place we want to go back to and often do. Maybe it’ll be different this time. But if that world had been working, we wouldn’t have been so rudely invited into a new one.

Rude invitations, like the tornado that swept Dorothy off to Oz–that’s how I’ve come to think of the curve balls life throws my way–chances to explore new worlds, new ways of being. More often than not, this is three parts frightening and one part exciting and feels like writer’s block. Come on, I don’t know where I’m going. I could use a little help here. (Silence.) Fine, I’ll just eat some cheese until you decide to show up. And yet, somehow you progress down the yellow brick road–the words come and the answers arrive. It’s never a straight line like you want it to be–healing is never a straight line–but you get there. One day you look back and see how far you’ve come. Maybe your outside looks the same, but your inside looks like a whole new world, and that’s your new familiar. Naturally, there will be other rabbit holes and tornados, other invitations to travel deeper into yourself and the divine mystery. But at least you’ll know something better is waiting for you should you choose to accept the invitation, pack your bags or (even better) leave them behind, and learn to swim in the sea again.