In her "Spiritual Geography" series, Janet Conner walks beside the broken-hearted, guiding and encouraging them as they travel through the seven countries of spiritual healing. Everyone's journey begins in the Country of Betrayal and proceeds through Pain, War, Illusion, Surrender, and Choice. The journey culminates with the power of forgiveness in the Country of Peace. Today, we explore the Country of War.

"War! — huh — What is it good for?"

Come on, I know you remember the refrain: "Absolutely nothin'! Say it again. I said War! - huh — good God, y'all. What is it good for? Absolutely nothin'! Say it again!"

Oh, we said it. We said it again and again and again. It seemed so clear then: War is evil. War is bad. Stop the war.

And then, thirty years later, I found myself in my own civil war. Suddenly, I had an enemy — a big scary enemy. Suddenly, I was in battles. Some were just skirmishes over candle sticks, wedding crystal, and table linens. But some were real battles over the life of a seven year old. What did we fight about? Soccer matches and visitation schedules, birthday parties and piano lessons, vacations and summer camp.

Suddenly, everything was a weapon. Pants used to be pants, but when they disappeared during visitation, they became weapons — rather expensive ones at that. Birthday presents used to be toys and books, but when they became bb guns and pocket knives, they became emergency hearings. The McDonald's drive-thru used to produce cheeseburgers and french fries, but when it produced frantic 911 calls and screaming police cars, it became ground zero in a protracted and profanely expensive war.

So, I say again, "War, what is it good for?" And you expect to hear me scream, "NOTHIN'!" at the top of my lungs, don't you? Well, I can't say "nothin'." I won't say "nothin'." Yes, my two-year exploration of the Country of War was brutal, but as I crawled on my hands and knees through every dreadful struggle War could conjure, I learned something important, something I wouldn't give up and can't give back.

I might have preferred to learn it more simply — and certainly more quickly — but easy or hard, I still received a rich understanding from the Country of War. Now, I am going to give you a heads-up on that understanding, so that you, or someone you know, can find their path out of War a bit more easily.

While I was deep in War, I didn't see any value in being there. In fact, the only thing I could see was how stupid my ex-husband was. I could see that really clearly. I could see all the things he was doing wrong, all the things he should stop doing, and all the things he should start doing. I could see him. In fact, all I could see was him.

This, I now know, is a universal pattern and the perfect first step in the journey through War. Since my books on "Spiritual Geography"came out, I've heard hundreds of people talk (and talk and talk) about their divorces. And what do they all say? "You won't believe what he did to me.... Let me tell you what a witch she was.... My ex was such a jerk...." It's a rare person, indeed, who wants to talk about what he or she did or what he or she learned through the divorce experience.

Perhaps that's because most people never get out of Stage One of the journey through War. I call it the "jerk" stage. In the jerk stage, all you can see is your enemy. All you talk about is your enemy's behavior. All you think about is your enemy. And you think about him or her all the time. You are obsessed with — and possessed by — your enemy. You aren't thinking clearly; in fact, you aren't thinking at all. You are reacting — and unconsciously at that. The jerk and the knee-jerk. He threatens; you flinch. She barks, you growl. He yells; you screech. She lies; you steal. Before any conscious thought has the thinnest chance to step in and influence your behavior, you react.

Now, this sounds pretty bad. Sounds like something a good therapist would tell you to stop — and that's really good advice. But before you move out of the jerk stage, stop and ask yourself, "What's in it for me? What's the gift here?" The gift, I think, is huge. Because here's the truth: We learn best when we rub up against a problem.

We can see this easily in our work lives. When something goes wrong, we study what happened and learn from our mistakes. We take the time to figure out what created the problem and make changes so it won't happen again. If it does reoccur, we recognize the problem early and nip it in the bud. End result: We stop repeating the problem. We know this is also true in education.

To learn, our children have to rub up against something they don't know and the first time it's hard. Remember trying to convince your second-grader that he would, someday, really and truly, memorize the multiplication tables? He didn't believe you. He fussed, he struggled, he may have even cried. But did he learn them? Yes, he did. And was that a good thing? Yes, it was. And did learning them build his confidence in his ability to learn the next hard thing? Yes, it did.

So, why do we think acquiring emotional, psychological, and spiritual intelligence is any different? Why do we persist in wishing relationships were smoother and life was easier? Why do we think, for one moment, that divorce is anything less than a giant opportunity to rub up against one of the great conflicts in life and, in the process, find our deepest, fullest selves?

It is, or it can be, when we start to explore our knee-jerk, unconscious reactions. By looking at them, thinking about them, even just observing them, they are no longer unconscious. That's when you enter Stage Two of the journey through War: Conscious Exploration.

You know you're there when you start asking questions — lots and lots of questions. Question like: Why am I fighting? How do I fight? Who is winning? Who is losing? Who is really winning, really losing? How badly do I want to win? What price am I willing to pay? What price am I willing to let the children pay? What is worth fighting for? How do I stand for what's right? How do I stand in my power? What is my power? How do I stop fighting with someone who wants to keep fighting? How do I fight a terrorist without becoming a terrorist? What are my weapons? How do I use them? What would it take to put my weapons down? Is there another way? And the richest question of all: How can the people who make the war, make the peace?

I'll tell you a secret: I don't have the answers. There are no universal answers that are true for all. In fact, there isn't even a perfect set of questions. Each person's journey is unique. It is a reflection of the fears, thoughts, beliefs, behaviors, choices, and experiences that led up to the implosion of the relationship.

All I know for certain is that the unconscious people never leave the Country of War. The only way out is conscious exploration of the problems War lays out for each soul. So, how do you get out? It's simple to understand, but hard to do: Rub up against your problems, explore them consciously, find your truth, and — this is the hardest part — change your behavior to mirror that truth. For one person that might mean learning to stand and fight — perhaps for the first time. For another, that might mean learning to stop fighting and stand down. One person might need to learn to speak up, another to be still. One to draw a boundary, another to stop encroaching boundaries.

Do you see? War is a golden opportunity to rub up against the pain and problems you and your spouse created. And if you do, if you rub up hard against them and stop reacting and start consciously exploring, you can't help but enter Stage Three of the journey through War: Highest Good for All. "Highest good" sounds great. Who doesn't want the highest good? It's that "for all" part that sticks in the craw. "All" unfortunately includes the other guy. But until you start seeking what's best for everyone, the path out of War will stay clouded from you. Once you start searching for the highest good for you, your children, andyour ex, the exit will unfold.

So, war, what is it good for? The answer isn't "nothing." War is part of the process, part of the healing, a tool in the development of wisdom. We may enter War blind and angry but, if we avail ourselves of the gifts inherent in the struggle, we can exit more awake, more aware, and wiser — definitely a little bit wiser. And there's real value in that, I think.

(Next week: Which is tougher? Hot war or cold war?)

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Janet Conner, S.E. (Spiritual Explorer), is an expert on the power of practical spirituality to heal your broken heart and transform your world. She is the cartographer of the map of spiritual healing and author of the seven travel guides in the Spiritual Geographyseries. In addition to divine dialogue, she welcomes human conversation at {email janetconner@tampabay.rr.com}janetconner@tampabay.rr.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Janet Conner

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