‍Life has a way of throwing us curveballs, sometimes leaving us feeling lost, confused, and stuck. This is the story of how one piece of wisdom from an unexpected source led to a journey of self-discovery, healing, and personal growth. It’s a testament to the power of embracing uncertainty and the transformative potential of creativity.‍

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The Wise Neighbor’s Advice

“Throw five things against the wall and see what sticks,” was the wisdom my always-wise, 70-something-year-old neighbor, Tom, a retired attorney, bestowed upon me as I cried on his shoulder about my impending divorce and my decision to leave the practice of medicine after twenty years.

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I had no clear path—personal or professional—ahead of me. I was lost. And stuck.

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Throw five things?

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What five things?

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What kind of advice was that?

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Turns out, the best.

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Sometimes, the most profound advice comes in the simplest packages. Tom’s suggestion, while initially confusing, would prove to be the catalyst for a remarkable transformation.

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The Backstory: A Life at a Crossroads

A bit of backstory: When my husband of twenty years moved out for the fourth time in six years, I knew the marriage “had to die” (to quote my therapist). I could no longer continue with this charade, this ongoing parade of abuse.

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I was done playing “Polly Play-Along” and “Molly Mop-It-Up.” My husband had unconsciously repeated the abusive behavioral pattern of his own father, and now he and I were unwittingly modeling it for our three sons.

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Did I really want this dysfunctional behavior to be passed onto the next generation?

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In a word… No.

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Filing for divorce was for me a necessity, not a choice. This marriage had to die.

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Unfortunately, I had also hit my threshold level of frustration with my work life as a physician. I knew I needed a break from medicine. Temporary? Permanent? I had no idea.

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So, husbandless and career-less, I found myself floundering in Limboland, both personally and professionally.

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I knew I could go back to both my marriage and my practice; both options were still open to me—options that were certain to suck the remaining life and soul out of me.

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So, yeah… No.

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This moment of crisis, while painful, opened up the possibility for profound change. It was a turning point, a chance to break free from old patterns and explore new horizons.

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Embracing the Unknown

Ironically, I was the gal who had always had a plan. Yet here I was—with no plan.

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“Throw five things…”

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What five things?

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Throw them where?

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It’s one thing to take the “road less traveled”—but I couldn’t even find the road. I was truly off-roading here.

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So, with nothing to lose and nowhere to go, I threw.

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The target? I had no idea. (I suppose whatever stuck, and wherever it stuck.)

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I read. I signed up. I joined. I participated.

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This willingness to step into the unknown, to try new things without a clear end goal, was the first step in breaking free from the stuckness.

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The Journey of Exploration

A weekend psychology seminar on “Healing from Heartbreak?”

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Count me in. No-brainer here—this one had my name all over it.

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It stuck.

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Another seminar entitled “Exploring Creativity?”

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This one sounded fun. I vaguely recalled creativity—and fun. (I believe I was ten years old at the time.)

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It stuck.

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Onto a weekend writing/self-exploration retreat with a Jungian psychologist and writer: “Mythic Writing.”

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Oh boy, this one was a deep, deep dive. I was submerged—and scared shitless—the entire time, but I somehow emerged with newfound insight and wisdom and a close-knit writing group of new deep-diving, lifelong friends.

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Another landing stuck.

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Art classes, writing classes, spiritual seminars, female empowerment retreats (“Engaging the Feminine Heroic”—Hell, yeah. Imagine becoming the heroine of your own story!)

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They all stuck.

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Each new experience, each class or seminar, opened up new possibilities and perspectives. The journey of exploration became a journey of self-discovery.

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The Transformation

I explored. I learned. I stretched. I threw. And I grew.

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I began to make art. Lots of art—just like I did when I was ten.

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I wrote.

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I sucked at it at first, but I wrote.

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“Find your voice.”

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(What the fuck is “voice?”)

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I found my voice.

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“Show, don’t tell.”

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Don’t tell? I’m Jewish, I’m a doctor, I’m a mother—I excel at “tell.”

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I learned to “show.” (Sort of—I still tend to tell.)

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This process of learning and growth wasn’t always easy. It involved stepping out of comfort zones, facing fears, and embracing vulnerability. But with each step, each new skill acquired, a transformation was taking place.

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The New Chapter

I loved my new creative world, my newly created life. I really was becoming my own heroine.

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I was healing, I was thriving, I was having fun.

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In the end, art stuck. Writing stuck.

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And it got me unstuck.

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And, yes, I’m still throwing, and still growing…

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Thank you, Tom. You were right.