The Push to Separate

“When people show you who they are, believe them, the first time.” ~ Maya Angelou

I was on the floor, sobbing, my daughter crying next to me. That was the moment the marriage ended, in my mind at least.

For over a decade, I’ve lived in tune with the rhythms of the Sacred Mayan calendar, the Cholq’ij, an ancient 260-day cycle kept alive today by Mayan daykeepers in Guatemala, where I’ve made my home since 2009. It is built around twenty day-signs, called nawales, each carrying its own energy, medicine, and teaching, cycling through in combination with the numbers one to 13. Thirteen days form what’s called a trecena, each with its own arc and focus.

I found this calendar here at Lake Atitlán, studying with Mayan spiritual guides who’ve kept this knowledge alive for untold generations despite centuries of colonization trying to erase it. I track my days by the sacred calendar, and over time it’s become a rhythm I live in a practical sense, a lens through which to pay attention to the texture of a day.

This past week, that attention paid off, even though it delivered a painful clarity. Seven days, seven nawales, and by the end of it I had written a sentence I hadn’t planned to write: I accept that my marriage is over.

Here’s how it unraveled.

Read the full story on Elephant Journal.