You and No Other

by Jane Weiss

  “Guess what,” Jane nearly shouted into the phone the next morning. “Mother just called and said the doctors were completely astounded by my dad’s improvement since yesterday. They’re moving him out of Intensive Care today!”

  Chapter 4 - No Going Back

  Jane

  It had been nearly a month since I left Methodist. Charles was taken aback that I had unilaterally chosen to resign. Everything came to a head one day on a rare occasion when we were sitting in the living room.

  “Charles, this couch and chair are nearly twenty years old, and are really showing wear—even after my reupholstering when we first moved into this house. I’d like to replace them.”

  “With what money?” he shot back at me.

  “I earned nearly fourteen-thousand dollars working at Methodist this past year,” I added defensively.

  “Well, that drop in the bucket after taxes is going to go towards something I’d like—like a motorcycle—since I’m the only one working.” That was his way of ending any further discussion about furniture. Even though he often ridiculed my low salary, he preferred my working, so that he wasn’t shouldering financial responsibility for the family all by himself.

  Out of guilt, I determined that I would make amends to him by putting our house back in order after this last year of “lick and promise” cleaning, catch up on entertaining, and spend lots of time with our children. Starting in August, I’d look for a position in business advertising, which was higher-salaried than healthcare public relations, so I could justify upsetting our household once again.

  Nevertheless, within my first few weeks at home, I discovered that I could not put our house or my life back into its former order. Sue Monk Kidd in her book The Dance of the Dissident Daughter wrote: “When a woman wakes up, it’s not experienced in isolation. Her family and the people she’s closest to will be thrust into the experience as well.” And regretfully, so it was with our family, for something deep inside me had shifted, and there was no turning back. Instead of cleaning, gardening, and entertaining, I wrote in my journal, voraciously read spiritual enlightenment books, and jogged. Instead of spending more time with the children, I met Bonnie for lunch and long conversations two or three times weekly.

  In an unprecedented and bold move, I joined Bonnie’s Sweet Adelines women’s chorus and became part of her spiritual study group, so that I was not home two evenings every week. I had never before allowed myself these freedoms. Often after chorus rehearsal and/or study group, Bonnie and I found ourselves talking until the sun rose. Charles, who had always felt free to do as he pleased, initially seemed reluctant to confront me. Perhaps he thought I would expect him to curtail his outside-the-home activities, if he asked me to.

  However, on one occasion, Charles stared at me in disbelief as I attempted to silently climb into the bed from which he was rising. I replayed the scene in my mind:

  “Good God, Jane, it’s five in the morning. Have you been out all night, again?”

  “Bonnie and I were talking, and before we knew it, the sun was coming up. I’m sorry. I hope you weren’t worried.”

  He wasn’t pacified. He retorted, “I just don’t get what’s so important that you have to talk for eight hours.” I was relieved when he marched out of the bedroom to get ready for work.

  My children had mixed feelings about my no longer working and my newfound independence. Knowing we’d have plenty of time to vacation was a real bonus. I’m certain they were relieved to have me cleaning less and relaxing stringent rules around my requirements for them to manage their spaces. They each seemed busy with their friends and independent activities. Overall, we seemed to be headed into a unique summer.

  Whenever possible, I treated myself to a run with Bonnie on Saturday mornings. One particular day, we had both rushed to get our families organized for the day before escaping to meet at Lake Harriet. I had started jogging that spring at Bonnie’s urging, and relished the sense of mastery over my own body for the first time in my entire life. Even though I had only run in my neighborhood for about two months, I wasn’t slowing down this veteran too much. It was one of those muggy summer mornings in Minneapolis. I could hear her steady breathing and rhythmic crunch, crunch of her jogging shoes on the gravel path close behind me. We fell easily into stride with one another.

  “Watch your footing, there’s a washed-out area coming up.” Bonnie called and gently touched my elbow to guide me up onto the blacktop. She knew well the worn three-mile running path around Lake Harriet, as it was her daily practice to run there.

  The sunny side of the lake was the hardest leg. I could feel my face getting flushed from heat and humidity. The pavilion concession stand was still fifteen minutes away, and I hoped Bonnie wanted to stop for a drink, both for thirst relief and to prolong our time together. She looked so trim in her classic jogging shorts and sleeveless, striped shirt. She actually looked good in everything. I loved how we laughed so easily together, and was reminded of what I had written in my journal in anticipation of that morning:

  Bonnie meets my mind. I don’t have to sift through, sort out, short circuit bad stuff, search for good stuff, interpret. She’s just right there with me. I’m so honest with her. Why? Father, make me promise You I will let this relationship happen—blossom with your blessing, or wither if you choose. It scares me. I’m afraid it will go away. Help me not to cling or withdraw. Just let it be.

  As Bonnie and I neared the end of our run, I slowed down and pointed towards the pavilion.

  “Great idea,” Bonnie responded. “I could use a long, tall Diet Coke.”

  With drinks in hand, we decided to walk the last quarter mile to our cars to cool down and chat a bit before we each returned to the family flurry. Bonnie needed to wash Edward’s baseball uniform, pick up the dog from the groomer and pack a picnic supper for Moria and Erin to take to the baseball park. As usual, all kinds of activities awaited me as well. Lynn wanted us to shop together for a bathing suit for her, and of course, Marie would want to tag along. Andrew needed a ride to the movies for him and his friend Adam, and I had promised Michael I’d pick up his Sunday slacks from the dry cleaners. Somehow, dinner would be squeezed in around everything.

  We stood by our cars, laughing at how long it had taken us to round Lake Harriet. “What this exercise lacked in speed, it made up for in endurance in this humidity,” I howled. “Thanks for inviting me. Give me a call Monday. How about a hug?”

  I watched her climb into her immaculate black Country Squire Ford station wagon, thinking Monday seemed like a long way away.

  Beginning Resistance

  Despite my inability to pick up where I left off in terms of household responsibilities, I followed through with planning a family vacation—a road trip from Minnesota to Six Flags Theme Park in Missouri, and back. I found a rental twenty-six-foot Winnebago that could accommodate all of us, worked with AAA to create an interesting tour, planned meals and secured groceries, and helped each of my children pack lightly for the ten-day trip.

  During the trip, the kids and I had to work at having a good time, as Charles sulked most of the way because the rental RV had several breakdowns. He frequently launched into a lengthy tirade just about the time we had finally reached a fun destination.

  “I’m going to list every blasted issue with this piece of junk—from the drawers that fall apart when you open them, to the refrigerator door that flies open and dumps everything out when we go around a bend, to the air conditioner that only occasionally works and drops water right onto my pillow, to missing screens, to the last straw: the distributor that’s required two days’ worth of repairs in this God-forsaken part of the country.”

  When we were gathered around a picnic table for one of our many on-the-road meals, he sat apart, refining his letter demanding reimbursement from the rental agency that had “bilked us out of a thousand dollars.”

  I arrived home feeling physically exhausted and far away from myself. I resisted calling Bonnie because I f
elt so needy. Fortunately she called me and, in her usual fashion, asked just the right questions to help me break through the anger and sadness I had built up during the trip.

  I had come to depend on Bonnie’s gentle prodding to define and clarify what I wanted and believed, and to rely on her encouragement to keep going deeper, despite recurrent, unexplained despair. Years later, Christina Baldwin’s Life’s Companion perfectly described the meaning of the emotional roller coaster I was on:

  “Wonder or deep questioning and despair are two sides of a spinning coin. When you open yourself to one, you open yourself to the other. You discover a capacity for joy that wasn’t in you before. Wonder is the promise of restoration: as deeply as you dive, so may you rise. As far as you are willing to venture into shadow, so far may you venture into light.”

  My reliance upon and increasing time with Bonnie did not go unnoticed by Charles. Sue Monk Kidd in her Dance of the Dissident Daughter says that men’s resistance to a partner’s awakening often grows out of their fear that everything is going to change, that women’s gain is their loss, that women will “turn the tables on them.” Certainly, the changes I was making were unsettling to him, and seemed related to his irritable outbursts and sarcasm. He appeared to vacillate between being proud of my new endeavors and spiritual beliefs, and feeling threatened by my investing so much time in newfound friendships. He made cynical comments about my changing my “primary relationship,” inferring that Bonnie was replacing him. Whenever he said this, I gently told him that there wasn’t a limited supply of love, and that the more you loved, the more you had to give. I couldn’t admit to him that I also had questions about how to manage my intimate friendship with Bonnie within this marriage—for it was with Bonnie that I shared my innermost thoughts.

  By late June, Charles’s insecurities about me escalated to the point where he began to read my journal uninvited. Although I had written many positive accounts about Charles, he sensed a new intensity in me through my writings. He ultimately confronted me one evening when the kids were outside. I was in the kitchen at the sink when he came up behind me.

  “What’s really going on between you and Bonnie?”

  I kept my back to him, bracing myself on the counter’s edge. “What are you insinuating?”

  “I’ve read your journal, and it’s so obvious that she’s more than a friend to you.”

  I wheeled around and shouted, “You read my journal? My journal?”

  “Well, you leave it sitting around …”

  “That doesn’t give you the right. I can’t believe you’d be so disrespectful. And then to use what I’ve written to accuse me of … of what?”

  “Of falling in love with her!” he yelled.

  I lowered my voice, and slowly and emphatically stated, “You are so mistaken about what’s happening. I’ve never before taken time from you or the kids to have a meaningful friendship, one that nurtured me.” I walked past him and began to cry at feeling so demeaned and misunderstood. He followed me into the bedroom.

  “You’re making a major error in assuming that Bonnie just wants to be friends.”

  I fell on the bed and buried my head in my pillow, crying. I felt violated and hurt that he would read my private thoughts, confused and angry that he would misconstrue what Bonnie was to me, and alarmed at the strength of his emotions.

  When I shared with Bonnie that Charles read my journal and was angry about how I had written about our friendship, she immediately said that she did not want our relationship to come between Charles and me, and that perhaps we should not see each other for a while. She asked me to initiate contact with her only when I felt comfortable doing so. I reluctantly agreed, but the next day after running and praying, I changed my mind.

  In my journal, which I now kept hidden, I wrote:

  God, please help me to know my soul’s needs and to temper my words and actions. What should I do? Do I need Bonnie in order to grow? Is this unsettledness with Charles to show me that Bonnie and I are too reliant on each other? Our times together are so peaceful, so full of Your love. Our sharing brings beautiful, necessary insights to both of us. Can I, should I deprive us of this for what I perceive are Charles’s fears? I can’t fulfill myself by tending to his needs and his fears any longer. If there is a jealousy, a hurt on Charles’s part, isn’t it a lesson for him to work through? Help me; fill me with love, so love will draw me to where I must go.

  I decided to continue my summer schedule of Sweet Adelines on Tuesdays, spiritual study group on Wednesdays, and a weekly lunch with Bonnie whenever we could fit it in. I let Charles manage his own fears, rather than let his fears control me. In many ways, Charles had become the antagonist challenging me on my spiritual journey; and Bonnie, the protagonist, actively supporting my movement forward.

  Seeking the God Within

  As far back as I can remember, my Scorpion astrological sun sign pattern—for better or worse—had drawn me towards the unknown or mysterious, to quickly make an intuitive decision about entering into it, risk tumbling headlong into the experience, grab onto the learning, and then manage the fallout of my feelings and actions afterward. So when Bonnie asked whether I’d be interested in having a life reading with a psychic, of course I intuitively answered, “Yes, I’d love to.” I knew there would be risks involved, at least according to my religious upbringing, which taught that meditation, “false prophets,” and spirits from other realms were considered tools of the devil to lead you away from God. Despite past teachings, I sensed this was an important part of my journey that I could not ignore.

  Many of the books I’d been reading recently were “channeled” by a human from loving beings on the other side who wanted to support individuals and human evolution as a whole. So why wouldn’t I want to have my own personal message from spirit guides who could “see” beyond what I could fathom in human form? Certainly, I needed more clarity about what kind of work I should be doing, as August and my job search were just around the corner. I wanted to ask about the soul level patterns I shared with my children, Charles, and my parents, and how I could be more helpful and in tune to their needs. I also had to validate to myself and for Charles that my strong desire to be friends with Bonnie, against his wishes, was sanctioned by my spiritual guides.

  I had read that soul growth was like a conveyor belt, pulling you consistently and insistently, moving itself and your human existence toward wholeness. So couldn’t this reading, as it presented itself as an option to me now, be a soul-guided experience, a next step in deepening my understanding of myself in relation to God?

  It’s not that I didn’t have some questions and fears. In my journal in early June 1981, I wrote:

  Haven’t thought much about who Ron Scolastico is. Does he feel used in his sleep-like state, as messages come through him? Is he like Edgar Cayce in that his awake and trance life are very different? Is he wise on both levels? I am a little fearful of what he might say. Suppose he doesn’t see anything of value within me.

  Where will this next step take me? Protect my soul and my thoughts, dear Father. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a precipice, ready to leap into an abyss. Keep me close to you so I know the Truth and can disregard what is not. How is it that I’m experiencing all this now? Did it take forty years of doing to prepare me for the balance of being? Did it take the sum total of my life’s experiences and relationships to mature me to this receptive state and willingness to go even deeper?

  What an adventure this trip to Iowa will be! I’ve never done anything like this before. In fact, I’ve rarely left my family to do anything that wasn’t family-related. They’ll survive! Will I?

  So the destined trip unfolded in a flurry of events and feelings. Charles grudgingly dropped me off with my suitcase at Bonnie’s car in front of her South Minneapolis home. Bonnie and I waved good-bye to Charles, Brian, and Erin. I felt the exhilaration of a long drive with Bonnie on a bright, but muggy, summer day; the intensity of that evening’s conversation a
bout our questions with her Marshalltown family; and the sweetness of talking with Bonnie deep into the night in the bed we shared.

  Each part of the trip was magical: the quiet, pensive ride Bonnie, her sister Penny, and I made early the next morning to Iowa City; my utter amazement at the reading process and deep gratitude for its content; the intense ride back to Marshalltown as Penny courageously began to assimilate what Dr. Scolastico had to say about her karmic involvement with missing-in-action husband Gene, and confirming that he was most likely dead; the second leg of Bonnie’s and my trip home to Minnesota, which seemed to fly by as we eagerly listened to and commented on the rich information in each other’s taped reading; being hastily greeted by son Andrew as Bonnie pulled up into my Eagan driveway; and finally, holding and thanking Bonnie for the experience we had shared as we said our good-byes.

  Over the next few days, as I could find alone time, I slowly transcribed my reading. Each time I listened to any part of it, I cried, recalling the feelings of compassion, love, and tenderness I had experienced during the reading. It was as if I had been in the presence of angels. The “guides” whom Dr. Scolastico channeled explained why I have been so compelled to identify and expand my spiritual beliefs:

  It is essential at this time of your life for you to question all areas of your beliefs. For they have been built on a lack of knowledge. It is as though you only saw yourself in physical form. But now you desire to know the brilliant soul-being and God-source that exists within you. For you are a soul of great beauty, of great love, of great wisdom, and you seek to discover this in this lifetime. And in your search, you will become transformed as you desire to expand and share your love. You have also begun to reach for a goal that you have withheld from yourself—to have greater love relationships in earth. For you have walked in duty and now desire a greater depth of communion with yourself and others.