Lord Shiva's Cosmic Dance

“…He creates and preserves, destroys and releases.
We are part of this dance, this eternal rhythm,
And woe to us if, blinded by illusions,
We detach ourselves from the dancing cosmos,
This universal harmony…” ~ Ruth Peel

I'm at the beginning of a brand new journey.  My new roles of working mom, full-time student, and head-of-household are going to be quite a juggling act.  Or as some would say, I better learn to dance, and fast!  Lord Shiva's blissful dance expresses the rhythm and harmony of daily life: a divine performance of destruction, destroying illusions in order to create enlightenment, and transforming fear into grace.  It's the continual manifestation of all natural existence.  This sacred dance-drama is the universal cycle of birthing the present from a dying past. I am here.  Alive…continually putting one foot in front of another along life's path.

Today's the day!  I've found employment with a large grocery chain and will begin working as a cashier.  In a few hours I begin my very first shift in six years. I've just finished up a two-day orientation.  The orientation classes were filled with other new hires that were born the year I graduated high school.  Yippee!!  It was a bit awkward for me to make small talk during class breaks with four sixteen-year-olds who all said, "You don't look old enough to have children."  I explained, "Well, yeah.  I'm 33, so I guess I'm 'old enough.'"  They responded with a simultaneous gasp.  One was even blunt enough to state out loud, "God, you ARE old!"  Lovely.  I just kept nodding and smiling.  I've been looking for a job away from home since early March. So, I feel blessed to finally have a job.   I have no doubts that arranging childcare for Princess and Prudence will be balancing act of its own.  But I'm not going to worry, I'll just keep "dancing" and things will work out the way they should.

Lord Shiva dances to destroy illusions and ignorance so that enlightenment may gracefully illuminate our existence.  I too am working on my own personal journey to an enlightenment of sorts.  Because I married as a teen, and Peter and I were dysfunctional co-dependents, I've yet to earn a degree, certificate, diploma from a college.  Well, there's no time like the present.  I started the admissions process at a local technical college several weeks ago.  I’ve been accepted into an Allied Health program.  One of the final steps to enrollment is to sit for an initial exam.  My exam date is Thursday!  "Ms. Pickle: full-time college student," sounds wonderful to me.  I know that full-time enrollment will be difficult to navigate as a single mom, but it's the only way I can qualify for Federal aid.  I can barely contain my excitement!

Excited or not, I will have to be extra vigilant to prevent work life and school life from becoming all-encompassing. As I work hard to create a bright future for my girls and myself, I can't lose sight of the eternal now.  Making time for family fun has to be a top priority.  Princess and Prudence are learning to swim.  On afternoons when the heat is smoldering, we don our swim suits and sun block and go for a dip in the pool here at our apartment complex.  Many of the residents are retirees, and most of the children from the younger families are enrolled in daycare programs.  So, it's not uncommon for the three of us to have the pool all to ourselves.  I've snapped several cute pictures.  And the girls have giggled many hours away splashing and playing.

However, our summertime fun hasn't been limited to the pool.  Last week we went for a day hike and picnic at the state Botanical Gardens.  I was so proud that both Princess and Prudence were real troopers.  We made a 2 mile loop following the nature trail and then, circling the grounds.  They were a blast on the trails--stopping to smell blooming flowers and discussing the greedy squirrels who were stealing mushrooms from one another.  At one point, Princess saw a natural cave in a hillside and pretended it was the "comfy home for a bobcat, so shhh...everyone.  He's trying to nap."  What an imagination!

We're going to be okay.  Manifesting a new destiny sure feels good.  Challenging?  Yes...but good.  I'm slowly finding my rhythm.  I may not be a graceful dancer, yet, but in time my waltz will impress.  I have faith that things have a way of working out according to a universal design that is beyond my finite comprehension.  That's all right, though.  My part is to simply learn the steps and keep moving 8-)

Limbo

There were 14 days between when I filed a police report about CDV (Criminal Domestic Violence) and Peter's actual arraignment. The responding officer allowed Peter an entire week to make a statement recounting his side of the events that occurred on our 15th wedding anniversary. The officer then submitted both of our reports to a local judge who deliberated for a few more days. Finally, she issued a warrant, ordered "no contact," and set the terms of his bond all on the same afternoon. Those two weeks were hard.

Peter moved most of his things out of our apartment during the first few days, while Princess, Prudence, and I were out. He tried to convince me to recant. We could work things out, he said. He asked me, "Don't you care how hard it's gonna be on our girls, if you go through with this?" He called a few times asking to visit with our daughters. I agreed to meet him in public spaces, but refused to discuss anything related to our relationship, "I don't want to talk about that now. You're here to spend time with Princess and Prudence." Needless to say, when the judge phoned to say she was enacting a "no contact" order, I was relieved.

The "no contact" order meant that it would be necessary for visits between Peter, Princess, and Prudence to be arranged by other family members or trusted friends. Things went smoothly for several weeks. Then, he found a new job, stopped paying any kind of support for our girls or the bills he'd made prior to leaving, and alienated the two people willing to transport the girls to/from visits. After our girls waited two days for an answer as to whether or not they'd get to visit their father, I received a call. A family friend said Peter thought he might be able to see Princess and Prudence on the following afternoon. I said no. I wasn't going to waste one more day leaving the possibility for a third disappointment.

The next day I received a text message from Peter's brother that I should drop Princess and Prudence at my parents' house, so Peter could pick them up for a visit. "…HE DOES NOT WANT DRAMA. JUST TO PICK UP THE GIRLS W/O TALKING." I refused. My parents are aging and have multiple health problems. Peter is being charged for abusing me. Why would I put my parents through the additional stress of facing him? Peter and his brother must both be delusional. These aren't DVDs he accidentally left at a friend's house. He can't just casually text that he’s stopping by to pick them up. They are his daughters. After that exchange, I decided I'm ready to allow family court to order regular support and mediate visits. I'd given Peter nearly two months to catch up his part of the bills and to consistently support his daughters. I couldn't wait any longer.

The following week I learned that Peter has entered a "not guilty" plea and is requesting a jury trial in criminal court for the charge of CDV. I suspect the first month he paid support and planned visits with our girls, because he didn't believe that I would follow through. He realized that I wasn't going to back down, only after it became necessary for him to enter a plea.  Since that realization I've received no offers of support or help from my in-laws. I feel like we are invisible to his relatives. I'm the mother of their grandchildren and a faithful wife of 15 years. How could they not call--not worry how the girls are doing? Don't they wonder how we are surviving? I thought we were f-a-m-i-l-y.

Finding My Voice

I lost my voice years ago. Peter and I married a few weeks after my 18th birthday. I felt isolated as a young bride, especially when our peers began to leave for college. I was so in love with Peter (and so naive) that all I wanted was to please him. I compromised critical parts of my personal identity in order to "make it work." Our dysfunctional marriage has been filled with various co-dependencies and insecurities. Early on, I dismissed our issues simply as immaturity. I thought, We're so young. We really love each other. Eventually, as we grow older, we'll work these things out. I need to remain committed, faithful, and patient. I was wrong. Sometimes, love just isn't enough.

In our mid-twenties when we began to discuss having children, I trusted that everything would be all right. Peter initiated the discussion. He expressed a genuine desire to be a father. He said that he wanted nothing more than to settle down and "be a real family." We discussed a traditional division of labor. The roles of breadwinner and homemaker were agreed upon, because, "...You really wouldn't want someone else raising our children, would you?" He even said, "We shouldn't space having our children too far apart, so they can grow up to be pals." Motherhood brought new levels of isolation into my life. First, I felt isolated from my friends and family. Then, I stopped speaking up, speaking out, and reaching out. I was quiet. I was in denial that I'd been hoodwinked. My husband came and went as he pleased. I felt inadequate and was embarrassed that I couldn't meet his expectations. I was scared. If I objected to his whims, he threatened to leave for good. Again, I rationalized, He wouldn't treat us with this much of disregard--be so disrespectful--if he wasn't stressed out. I just need to be more empathetic, focus on the "greater good" of keeping our family together, and try harder. WRONG, again!

It's been said that Michelangelo's sculpture of the young David is clearly a depiction of the very last instant of David's ordinary life. He is posed with a sling resting over his left shoulder and a rock is clinched in his right hand. In that instant David had a choice. He could choose to blend in, become one of the nameless faces in the crowd, or he could act. When I pulled my minivan into the parking lot of my neighborhood car wash the wee hours of a March morning my hands were trembling. My head was pounding. I was sobbing, and I was scared. I had a choice. I could continue to silently suffer as a victim of domestic violence and mistreatment like millions of other ordinary women around the world, or I could act. I took a deep breath, dialed 911, and the course of my life was forever changed in that instant. I found my voice. I spoke out. I made the difficult choice to report Peter's behavior. I faced my fears and realized that there are worse fates than being a single mom. Today, I'm no longer a timid housewife, but a strong woman who's standing up.