There’s no way around the pure desire I have for a life partner, for my soul to meet her match. I long for it with ardor. Over the past four years that I’ve been an "indie"[single] mom, it has always been clear to me that I desire a relationship. I feel fulfilled in partnership in ways that I don’t on my own. I know I want a life partner. And I honor that knowing. Yet, at the same time, I know that divine love is always here, entirely present within me.

How do I feel whole while still leaving space in my life for the love of my life to enter?

How do I feel fulfilled and yet be authentic to the desire I have to share my life with a partner? How do I wait without waiting? And the answer I came up with is a spiritual practice that I call Disciplined Hope.

Hope as a noun is synonymous with a wish, or an aspiration. But hope as a verb is synonymous with an expectation, or even a prediction.

Disciplined Hope isn’t just wishing things were different or wishing for something to enter our lives. When I really focused on how much I wished there was someone with me in those tender, unrepeatable moments, like when my son first walked, or when I signed my first book contract, I would despair. I would feel an acute sense of loss and lack in my life. I would feel very much alone. But Disciplined Hope isn’t just wishing, it’s putting that hope into action, it’s trusting that at some point that pure desire to love and be loved will be met.

So what does hope in action look like? How do I wait without waiting as an indie mom? I tango.

One of the ways I practice Disciplined Hope is that I experience surrender in couples dancing. I took to tango like any Scorpio would—passionately. What my tango teacher explained to me was that surrender is active. He explained that if I’m limp and passive, I’m not giving him the presence he needs to be able to move me. If I “arrive” at each step he guides me to, if I stay present in the moment, stay fully in my body, he is able to direct our dance with ease. This physical experience of being held and led in tango allows me to taste an essence of partnership now.

Disciplined Hope is trusting my life fiercely, all that has happened. It’s trusting who I am, that I am enough right now. And it’s trusting where I am being led. It’s putting trust in my life into practice that at some divinely timed moment, my desire is going to be met.

Suggestions for embracing being free-free and practicing Disciplined Hope

1.    I get regular massages (always by male masseurs) so that my body isn’t starved for touch.

2.    I plan dinners with friends and weekends away when my son is with his father.

3.    I pay conscious attention to how much love I have in my life (in all its various forms).

4.    I pour myself into my work, which is my soul purpose.

5.    I use those moments when the trapdoor swings open and my heart starts to plummet to actively connect to the divine source of love and truth within me.

As I waded through the very human flotsam in the wake of my divorce, I stayed anchored in the trust of the divine love within me. I didn’t forget that even in the midst of this love lost, there is a love within that I can always connect to and receive a divine love that is the most stabilizing force to depend on, no matter what is happening in my external world.

After a recent speaking event, I decided to take the gondola up Mt. Whistler Mountain in Vancouver, BC. The vista at the top of the mountain was breathtaking. Snow glistened at the peak. I felt a sudden surge of adventure, climbed up the steep incline, and then slid down (sans sled), picking up more momentum than anticipated. I laughed harder than I had in years. The friend who was with me took a picture just as I reached the rocks where she was standing.

I was amazed when I saw it. It barely looked like me. Or rather it looked like me from seven years ago before my marriage to a man who tried but couldn’t commit to partnership. I looked free. My face was radiating light. I was in love. Not with someone, but just in love as I am. For me this picture marked the moment when I removed the moniker single mom from my thoughts and all the sadness and despair that went with it. This is the moment I became an indie mom.

I co-wrote my book How to Love Yourself (and Sometimes Other People) with Lodro Rinzler. It's a smart, hip guide for spiritual seekers who want to experience more love and stability in all forms of relationships.