A Lotus Grows in the Mud (27 page)

If I knew then what I know today, I might never have burst out at him like that in front of the studio heads. I would have tried to be more sensitive and more mindful of his role in the process. I now understand all of his reasons for feeling so threatened by me. Although I became the scapegoat, I can see why he felt undermined both creatively and as a man.

When Jonathan went on to direct
The Silence of the Lambs
and won an Oscar, I rushed to see the film and loved every minute of it. I mean, what a brilliant piece of filmmaking that truly was! I sat down and wrote him a heartfelt letter, telling him what an amazing job he did and what a fantastic filmmaker I believed he was. He wrote me a beautiful letter back.

By reaching out to each other in this simple way, by showing tolerance and kindness to each other and putting all the pain and misunderstanding behind us, we achieved closure on what was, for us both, a very bittersweet experience.

And, best of all, I learned one of the most important lessons of my life: that the power to forgive is the greatest power there is.

With Kurt, in love and in bed, on the set of
Swing Shift.
(© 1984 Warner Bros. Inc.)

M
y first marriage lasted six years. My second, four. I was never to marry again. Relationships, even ones once as happy as these, often hit insurmountable problems. It is easy to point the finger, to blame the other person. Sometimes we’re right to do so. I suppose I could easily blame my career, my money or my power and leave it at that. But that’s too simple. I remember what someone once said to me: whenever you point a finger, there are three fingers pointing back at you.

It is important to remember the good things about my marriages, the happy memories that still fill my heart. Gus was such a sweetheart. He was with me when I was first discovered, and he helped me deal with so much. I loved being his wife and taking care of him.

Bill helped me through one of the most fearful times of my life, the prospect of losing Oliver. He comforted me with his humor, and was tender with me as a vulnerable new mother. He also gave me the gift of his grandmother, Tessie, whose rose never seemed to fade. She was full of life and vitality and joy—a window into the spirit of his soul. Being with his big Italian family in Portland, Oregon, was like going home for me. It gave me a sense of normalcy when there was so little that was normal in my life. Sleeping in the attic with baby Oliver, a statue of Mother Mary at my side, allowed me the privilege of witnessing a whole new family culture that reminded me so much of my own.

But it is also important to remember what went wrong in those relationships. I asked myself over and over what I could have done better to
make them work. I’m not perfect. I want to know how I can grow as a human being because of what I faced as my truth, what responsibility I take. If you don’t take responsibility, then you’ll never grow. You will never learn. And you will only repeat your mistakes.

By the time of my divorce from Bill, I had two small children who were both losing a daddy. I couldn’t believe that everything I had planned had come so unraveled. I always thought that when I got married and had children, I would stay with their father no matter what. Divorce wasn’t something anyone did in my family. Even at the end, my parents never divorced; they just took leave of each other. It was such a bittersweet time, for I truly believed I was doomed to live a life as a single parent. I tucked my kids in each night, wishing they had a father to do it too, and then I cried myself to sleep, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

I was trying to do it all—work, make movies, be a good mother, be a soccer mom to Oliver, take Katie to dance classes and keep a happy home. Juggling all this in my life, I was devastated. Was I now living my worst image of how Hollywood stars end up?

I couldn’t imagine how, approaching my mid-thirties with a demanding job and, by now, celebrity status, I could ever meet someone who would be prepared to take me on, with all my baggage. More important, I feared I would never find someone who would love my children as much as I do, and give them a normal family life.

But I was wrong. A miracle happened. Kurt Russell was sent to us by God.

Here was a grown man who was capable of loving fully, with all of his heart. The most vital, playful, joyful human being, with an energetic life force born of a strong family upbringing. He makes every day a new day.

His young son, Boston, created from the union of his first marriage, brought even more joy to our family, adding a petal to our flower.

Kurt’s love for my children thrilled me to no end. They flourished under his nurturing. His honesty, devotion and unconditional love bound us together in an inseparable state of familial bliss that has been unshaken to this day. He drew a circle around us in the sand, and its powerful alchemy has protected us ever since.

I have been asked time and time again, “Why, Goldie, haven’t you and Kurt ever married?” I laugh it off and say, “Been there, done that. It didn’t work for either of us.” But, in truth, that’s just a glib response.

I believe that the only true vows that we must make are vows to our own truth, and to our own initiation of our own kindness to someone else. Not to a promise to be there forever, but a promise to be there fully as long as we are there. We are not married to our children, and yet that is the greatest love there is. What is it about a piece of paper, a marriage certificate, that holds so much importance?

It is vital to remain cognizant of the fact that we are born alone and we die alone. Whoever we choose to share our life with is just someone we choose to share our life with. Not someone who has turned the key in the lock and said, Okay, now we are married. We are mere mortals. We’re not perfect. We all make mistakes. In order to move forward, we need to forgive ourselves.

I understand that some people desperately want to get married. There is an innate part in all of us that needs ritual and ceremony. I am happy that I did, and I don’t think anyone should miss out on what is essentially a beautiful day. But, through my experience, I have come to understand that the day after the wedding is just the next day. It’s a new day, and then the next day is just the next day after that.

And if that sounds like an excuse not to work at the relationship, it isn’t. If anything, it makes us work harder. I wake up every day with the intention to be loving and happy and the best I can be. I try to make each day a new day without carrying over the baggage from the previous day. I try to remind myself each morning why I am in love. And when there are differences, I try to put myself in the other person’s shoes, so I can feel what they’re feeling, not just what I’m feeling. I try to look with four eyes instead of just my two.

I know it isn’t always easy to keep the flame burning. People grow comfortable with each other, or they become creatures of habit. And they are not always in tune with their partners. Sometimes when you have been in a relationship for a while, you get bogged down with a lot of negativity and dullness, and you get tired of dealing with all that stuff.

One trick when you’re feeling down about your relationship is to
imagine life without the other. It is a very scary thing to ask yourself to do, because when you do it you really get a sense of what your world looks like. Maybe you’ll like it better, in which case the relationship is probably over. But, more often than not, you will see a huge void.

If you feel that void, if you feel a sadness, then take out some pictures and remind yourself what you were once like. Laugh together at how young and stupid and how crazy you both were, or even how you looked. Photos are great triggers of memory and emotion. Ask yourself if you too have changed.

Have you tried to make your mate what you want him or her to be, rather than rejoicing in your differences? What is it that you have sabotaged by trying to rewire the substance of the relationship to suit your needs?

The philosopher Kahlil Gibran once wrote about marriage: “Stand together, yet not too near together. For the pillars of the temple stand apart.” That’s a tough one for a lot of people to buy because, for some, there always has to be a chief.

There is nothing more unpleasant for me than to see a man stripped of his power. Even though we sometimes feel like the weaker sex, wake up (as my mother would say), nations have fallen because of us. Women have the power to diminish. I have watched it happen in my own home. It is far better to respect a man who has his own life, his own excitement, his own passion. Celebrate that in him; honor his variety and his power. The next time you ask, “Why didn’t you call? Why were you late for dinner? Why didn’t you pick up the milk? Why don’t you ever take out the trash?” or continue to jab at what you view as his weaknesses, ask yourself: is this what you want to end up with? Is this your intention, to tame the beast? Is that the prize? The man who just says, “Yes, dear,” and falls asleep in the armchair every night? Be careful what you wish for, because you might end up stripping away the vitality, the sexual energy of the man who you once thought of as your knight in shining armor.

The key to all of this is that one person may do all they can to keep their relationship as healthy as it can be, but it’s not enough. No matter how healthy you become, your partner has to be working alongside you. If he doesn’t, then it’s like one hand clapping. It has to meet the other hand to make the sound of applause.

Overcome with emotion at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, on a visit to honor the life and work of my agent Stan Kamen. (Author’s Collection)