Book Review: Buddhist Path through Divorce

    Brooklyn-based writer Gabriel Cohen was thrown for a loop when his wife suddenly decided to leave him after a series of escalating disputes over seemingly minor issues. Since she cut off relations with him immediately afterward, he was left with his confusion, anger and pain -- which he dealt with, to his own surprise, by taking up the practice of Buddhism. His new book, "Storms Can't Hurt The Sky: A Buddhist Path Through Divorce'' (Da Capo Press/LifeLong Books) unites the disparate paths of marital discord, self-help and spirituality. Or maybe not so disparate. Our conversation with Cohen about his own path - and the rocks along the road -- follows below.
 
Divorce360.com: Your previous books were gritty crime novels set in Brooklyn. "Storms Can't Hurt the Sky'' marks what might seem an unusual transition. What were the personal circumstances that caused you to write it? Are there connecting threads between the genres?

Cohen: I’ve published four books: "The Graving Dock'' and "Red Hook'' are crime novels; "Boombox'' is a literary novel; and now Storms is a combination of memoir and self-help. That might seem like a bunch of really different books, but I think they all share a common theme:  the mysteries of why people behave as they do, and why it seems so hard for us to get along. I’m just coming at that from different angles.

"Storms Can’t Hurt the Sky'' was inspired by my own experience of going through a divorce, and struggling to figure out how to transform that painful experience into a more positive one.

Divorce360.com: A seemingly trivial issue -- looking for a new apartment -- was the spark that led to the explosion in your marriage. Even given the importance of real estate in New  York,  this seems symbolic of larger conflicts. Was moving just the catalyst for a parting that may have been inevitable?

Cohen: When my marriage was not stressed, my wife and I got along great. When we faced a major challenge — having to suddenly find an affordable new apartment in the midst of a New York real estate frenzy — it brought out major differences in how we saw the world, and how we dealt with problems. It wasn’t the cause of the divorce, really; it just pointed out hidden fault lines in the marriage.  

Divorce360.com: Your ex-wife, walked out the door five minutes after you "wondered - aloud, unfortunately -- if Claire and I might be better off going separate ways.'' But many couples are able to weather such a storm -- one can hardly think of a marriage in which at one time or another one of the partners has not threatened divorce or separation. What have you learned, through your Buddhist practice, about the danger of using words that might seem threatening? Do you think if you knew then what you knew now it would have saved your marriage?

Cohen: Outside of fiction, I seriously doubt that anyone decides to leave a marriage in just five minutes. In hindsight, I believe that my wife must have been planning to leave for a while, and my comment just gave her the excuse to do so. I certainly regret uttering those words. And I wonder if I could have saved my marriage if I had learned earlier how to deal with conflict more skillfully. Ultimately, though, I try not to let regret become a burden. One big part of the Buddhist message is that a lot of our suffering comes from wishing the world was different than it actually is. I need to accept that the past happened in the way that it did, and find positive ways to move on.  

Divorce360.com: You write about your experiences in psychotherapy -- about which you sound pretty dubious -- as opposed to taking up Buddhist meditation. What are the specific "lessons,'' if that's the right word, of Buddhism that can help anyone who finds themselves in a troubled relationship  or is trying to deal with the pain of a break-up? Does  therapy sometimes put marriages that are already at risk over the edge?

Cohen: I don’t know if I’d say that I’m dubious about psychotherapy in general. There are certainly a lot of cases where it might be a very helpful, appropriate approach. Maybe I just didn’t have the right therapists. I was definitely shocked when my wife and I went to a couples therapist and she said that it sounded like our marriage might be over — after just one session!And I found that the process of individual therapy, of going in alone to talk about my problems all session, felt a bit isolating and alienating. One reason that I was attracted to Buddhism was that it seemed to take a more inclusive approach, to say that all human beings suffer for common reasons, which made a lot of sense to me. We all get sick, we’re all going to die, we all face change and loss. When I was facing a painful time, I found other people at Buddhist talks who were going through a similar challenge, and I felt comforted by that solidarity. It also was not at all evasive or withholding about providing some very clear, practical solutions to life’s problems.

Divorce360.com: You spend a fair amount of time dealing with the issue of your anger, which your ex-wife found hard to handle. But it's unclear whether you think you were really unacceptably angry, or whether she was so upset about it because of issues from her own childhood. From a Buddhist perspective, does it make a difference? What would your advice be for people who are having anger management issues in their marriage -- or in their divorce?

Cohen: I don’t think that I manifested exceptional anger. I never expressed it in a physical way, and I was never intentionally abusive. But my wife had personal, family issues that tended to make it very difficult for her to deal with conflict, and so I think my anger seemed magnified to her. In any case, I take full responsibility for contributing to the downfall of our marriage by my unskillful behavior. Buddhists don’t ever say that you should try to suppress or deny angry feelings, but there is an essential warning that acting out of anger is always a bad idea. Anger distorts our perception of the person we’re angry at, it pushes us toward actions that are hurtful and damaging of relationships, and it’s even bad for our own health. It is, as the saying goes, an acid that corrodes the vessel that contains it. In a Buddhist talk, I heard a very interesting comment:  If you’re angry at your spouse, your spouse is not the problem. Your problem is your anger. We tend to think that we’re justifiably angry at some external problem. I have come to learn, however, that when I’m angry, it’s a warning sign — not that there’s something wrong with my external circumstances, but with the way I’m thinking about them.