Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Passion to the Third Degree .

Done. A few hours of intense spiritual work is always a bit of a relief for me. Let’s just say that I’ve been divining for the summer.

The Long-Awaited Honest-to-God Secret to Being Happy

I’ve had a little light shed for myself on the Ten of Pents romance and its abrupt halt, and it was as I suspected. Your children can rock your world in a way that no one else can. No matter how long a man’s been in divorce court or how close they are to signing on the dotted line, I will never again get that involved with a man who is still legally bound. I hadn’t thought it would matter, and while it didn’t to me, it does to others. So I’m grateful for the light that’s been shed because that may save me a lot of heartache in the future.

There’ll be light shed for him, as well, but I won’t do it. It would be very easy to. It would be by far the easiest for me to do. That’s my nature. That old codependency coming out where I want to help and want everyone to have a happy ending.

It’s much harder to watch people you care about really fuck themselves over, but this has been the year for that, hasn’t it?

I am really weary of watching people I care about make huge mistakes, of watching the consequences. That’s happened with so many of “mine” this year. So very many.

But sometimes—and I’m talking about a multitude of loved ones now—the only way a major change can occur is by making the biggest mistake of your life and then figuring out exactly what that mistake was and why. That’s the only way the light seeps through and begins to show the way. You learn to bear your own light, to be sure of your own path in a way you never could have before.

The light brightens and then you see the way. I’m trying to be happier about that, but I know, too, that when the light brightens and you see finally the way in front of you, you also see the things you’ve left behind and the shadows of what you lost while you were busy fucking up.

I know. My lantern is oh-so-high, but I still sometimes look over my shoulder.


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