“One day you’re a dog, and the next day you’re in space. Can you even imagine?”

This is what my friend Peter said to me more than 20 years ago. He was referring to a movie that I can’t recall the name of right now, but in it they refer to a dog that was sent into space.

We marveled at the thought. “It’s not like you could have told the dog ahead of time or prepared it for orbit. It happened just like that- boom! One day you’re a dog. the next day, you’re in space.” Peter shook his head.

That’s sort of how it happened for me – crossing the threshold. It came out in a blurt during a therapy session. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m not staying in a miserable marriage for the rest of my life.”

Everyone’s eyes got big. And when I say everyone, I mean my husbands’ and the therapist.

“I don’t even think I can do it for one more second.” I added.

Orbit.

A lot happened after that. There was a lot of yelling in the months to follow. There were a lot of tears. I slept at friends’ houses. It was scary and terrible.

One day you’re a dog. The next day you’re in space.

I didn’t plan for it to happen that day, nor did I know how clear I was until the words fell out of my mouth.

My friend Nate had asked me earlier that day, “If you were a natural disaster, which one would you be?” I scrunched up my face, perplexed. “I’d be a forest fire,” he declared.

I thought for a moment. “I think I’d be a lightning storm.  A bolt of electricity. Sudden. Precise. Not too much damage.”

…

It’s a year later now and we are still living together, just starting the mediation process. There has been a lot of healing.

But what I really want to tell you is this: Sometimes life changes like that – one day you’re a dog, the next day you’re in space.

No one prepared you for it.
No one warned you or reassured you.
They don’t even speak dog.

And yet, there you are just the same.