Note: The article below shares a very personal aspect of my life today and how I'm orienting my Life Leadership amidst heartbreak. While I appreciate notes of support, please refrain from sharing any opinions or ideas about the specific subject discussed. My husband and I are aware of our options and are feeling our way forward, making choices based on our deep knowing about what's right for our life. Thank you, and thank you for being here! 

When heartbreak brings us to our knees smack in the middle of our bustling lives, how are we to continue leading on?

After all, there’s no heartbreak survival manual tucked into our bassinets at birth by some cosmic, knowing hand. There’s no chapter to turn to titled, “What To Do When You Heart is Torn,” followed by eight succinct and easy steps that promise to lead us out of the mire and into mirth.

Despite having lived several decades, we find we still don’t always have the ready answers needed to put the pieces of ourselves, our dreams, and our lives back together. (Remember when we were kids, how grown-ups seemed to know how to do just about everything, without question?) And although we might try, we eventually find that neither excessive busyness nor alcohol, drugs, food, sex, mindless channel or web surfing can protect us forever from our own aching souls when hearts have been crushed from the various vagaries of life, relationships, and circumstance.

I’m coming to the firm conclusion that if we are choosing to live “awake” lives (a key ingredient to Life Leadership, then it’s an absolutely inescapable part of our individual work, a part of our required learning and growth, to find our own way back to our selves when our hearts are broken. It’s our job, when needed, to be willing to make the slow, plodding, sorrow-full, occasionally joy-full, but always rich journey back to ourselves, squinting in the semi-darkness, trying to see better, and feeling our way forward, trusting that step by step we’re coming closer to a place on the path ahead that’s well lit and warmer, where our hearts, though scarred, beat with strength and sureness again.

I’m in the throes of such a time.

In the midst of a life that is, for all intents and purposes, jam packed with love and abundance and highly fulfilling work, a life that I’ve consciously created to reflect more and more of me every day, I am also absolutely, crushingly, knee-bucklingly broken hearted. And I hesitate to even write the words, because they confirm what is so hard to be with right now...that I

Dammit. It’s literally so hard to even type the words.

I am not able to have a baby.

(If I had one, this is where I’d add a visual of me, doubled over and breathless, as if punched in the gut.)

After a lifetime of assuming, after growing up in a family chock full of families, after babysitting more than a dozen nieces and nephews, after decades of looking forward to the time when it would be my turn, after falling in love with my soul’s companion, and after seven years of trying just about everything under the sun, my husband and I have taken a deep breath, held hands, touched our foreheads together, and decided to close the chapter called, “One Plus One Equals Three.”

And my heart is broken.

Pause...deep breath...yep, I did just share one of the most personal and intense aspects of my life publicly. Steady now...deep breath again...because here’s today’s point: amidst the lostness, in the fog of sadness, anger and confusion and heartbreak, I’m discovering things in this time and place. And I want to share them here in the hopes that they will offer signposts on your own journey, for when life has plans other than your own, offering you up a big dish of hurt (because, well, it’s just a fact of life). Here’s what I can see today:

1. •No matter how lost I feel, no matter how much I can’t answer right now, there are always things I do know. I’ve said it before, and I’m living it more deeply now. We almost always know more than we give ourselves credit for, especially in the bleak times. Sometimes it helps to just find a scrap of paper, something to scribble with, and start with the question, “What do I know?”
   

2. •The thing I feared the most did not obliterate me like I was sure it would. For years, I’ve done everything that I could to create a different outcome than I’m living today, both because I dreamed of creating a family with Robert, but also because I was absolutely terrified of living the day when we said, “it’s time to throw in the towel.” Deep inside, I think I feared implosion. Who would I be, after all, if this part of my forever-assumed identity didn’t come true? How would I fill the gaping chasm that would be there? What if I couldn’t?
   

3. And when the day came, I found myself with a devastated heart, as expected. But then, after the wailing, when I got still and slowly felt around in my emotions, I discovered that I’m facing a second half of life that’s much more of a fresh palette than I imagined. And along with that have come sparks of curiosity, a tiny shred of excitement for the adventure of the unknown future, and even a teeny, tiny bit of eagerness, knowing that...when the time is right...I can use my time and life and energy to create whatever else I want in the coming decades. Even though this is one of the hardest things I’ve had to face, it did not destroy me. Hmmm...maybe nothing can, because “I” am larger, wider, deeper and more infinite than my circumstances.
   

4. •It’s vital to create emotional space and time for the truth to sink in. My heart and soul are begging me to not rush forward into “the next thing,” to not try to pile 17 band-aids over this gaping wound. It’s my job right now to listen to that inner pleading voice, and to just be with what’s here, to let this whole experience simmer and teach me what it will. If I don’t, all these emotions will fester under the surface, and I’ll continue to feel like I’m underwater. That’s not how I want to live the rest of my life, so emotional space it is!
   

5. •In times like this, returning to my “home places” is some of the best medicine. These are not actual geographical places but are the hearts of those who know, love and “get” me the best. For example:
   

6. -My husband and I are playing together more, laughing and connecting in a way we haven’t for way too long. I’m the champ of retreating to my inner cave when the going gets tough, and the re-introduction of “play” has been so important to counter the weight of our sorrow. And it helps him see a different part of me, helps me be a different way. Refreshing!
   

7. -Last weekend, I got to spend two luxurious days with two of my oldest and dearest friends in the world, celebrating the lights in their lives and letting them be with me in this sorrow.
   

8. -And right this very minute, I’m on a plane flying home from a weekend visit with my “Soul Mama,” who sat with me for hours and listened to the whole story (again), holding my hands and letting me cry and wonder and talk and talk and talk.
   

9. All of these people know me deeply, and when I am with them, they bring me back to the center of myself, help me feel more solid on my own two feet, guide me gently back to remembering who I am at the heart of things, where I’m strong. And the hugs are so healing.
   

10. •It’s no good to hide. While I won’t stop a stranger on the street to share what I’m sharing here, it’s also no good to pretend to the world around me that everything is sunshine and daisies.
    

11. Fact is, I don’t think there’s ever a time when we’re not each dealing with the blessedly easy and the wretchedly difficult aspects of our lives. Everyone knows it, but we’re afraid of seeming weak or lame or unlovable, so when someone asks how it’s going, we chirp out, “great!”
    

12. It takes so much energy to hide. And it’s so freeing to finally utter the truth, to show up as real, honest, open, crushed, strong, blank, brilliant, and all the rest of the paradoxes that make up who we are as messy, glorious humans. I am taking a stand for the power of transparency to bring more love in rather than send people screaming away from us thinking terrible thoughts, as our fears like to imagine.
    

13. •No matter what, I know that life ahead is going to be fulfilling. In the end, I have faith that no matter which way the future goes, it will be good. It will be rich, deep, and fulfilling. I know that because I know myself, and I know my partner, and I know us together. We won’t move through this time without feeling out all the dark corners, all the bright lights, and everything in between, doing the work we need to do so we can go forward together in a healthy way, creating joy together wherever we go. That knowing is a true gift.
    

Phew.

I’m aware that there may be some folks reading this who are aghast at the fact of my sharing something so intensely personal in such a public way. “What will her readers think?” they may be asking. What if, what if. But you know what?

You’re reading this for a reason. You’re here because something is calling you to the heart of this thing called Life Leadership, and believe me, the places where our hearts soar and where our knees buckle are definitely the heart of things. And what I know is this: until we discover that there’s actually incredible strength and resources within vulnerability, we’re doing ourselves and those around us a great disservice. So, here, in this place where we meet, you get more of me today and in the months to come, for the sake of all our growth and learning.

Thank you for reading this.

Thank you for bearing witness to something really hard, and for being willing to feel into the discoveries I named above. As you swim forward in this big soup we’re all in, may this path I’m on aid you in your journey.

Somehow, my heart feels more full now.