I believe in reincarnation. I have lived many lives since I was born. Today, I’m at the pinnacle of my profession, I own a duplex with my best friend. I’ve got friends. I’ve got a retirement account – and a plan to once again reincarnate when retirement happens.
My mother once despaired: you sure took the long way off the path to get here. I countered that I would not be who I am, I would not know what I know, if I had lived my life any other way. I am a believer in things happening for reasons – reasons that may not be clear to us until years later. I can look back at the choices and opportunities and trace the line on how I got to be here. This “X”; this spot marked.
I was married once. I married for the first (and only time) when I was 36, to a man I’d dated for a year. It was a courthouse wedding, but I took the vows as solemn. When he started having bursts of rage, I side stepped his anger. When he gave me the silent treatment for days, I hummed to myself and talked to our dogs. Like a switch flipped he would go from loving husband to unrecognized other person – angry, sullen, holding back violence. He did not touch me.
I took my vows as solemn. I spent a lot of time in the little church walking distance from our house. The church was the one place I could go that my husband would not question or follow me. Inside, there were six stained glass windows, one depicting a tiny sailboat on stormy seas. That was my focus. That was my prayer – I am a tiny boat lost in a very stormy sea. Lord, protect me.
My line in the sand was physical violence. He agreed to one session of counseling. On the way out the counselor handed us each her card. When I looked at her card later, she’d given me a card for a shelter, and number to call for help getting out. I hid the card in my wallet and recognized my line in the sand was real. I made a new vow, equally solemn. If he laid a hand on me, I’d be gone.
The Sunday before my world broke, the priest at the little church gave an unexpected sermon. As if talking directly to me, he said, or I heard, that God did not want people in a dangerous situation. That even wedding vows could be broken if it meant the safety and wellbeing of a person.
Saturday
A whole day of tolerating the “Other” husband culminated with him calling me a liar. Then he called me stupid. I knew I was provoking him. I knew I was close to the line. It was still a shock when he grabbed my shoulders, threw me into the wall, pushed me to the floor and spat as he loomed over me: “The last person who pissed me off this bad I beat to a bloody pulp. Get out of my G**d***** house.” My line had been crossed.
Saturday evening
As soon as he let go. I grabbed my keys, my purse. I drove away. Later, from my sister’s house, I called every friend I had and asked for strong men, boxes and pick-up trucks.
Sunday morning
Four trucks, six men, seven women a bunch of boxes and I was packed up and moved out in under three hours.
Sunday evening
I'm living at my parent's house since a couple reincarnations ago.
Monday
I filed for divorce. (I was granted an annulment, and a new name, eight months later)
Tuesday
I started classes to get certificated for my current career path.
Wednesday
I had to stop for a moment. I had changed just about every aspect of my life possible. As a result of hands laid upon me, I made a sudden left turn, new path, new marital status, new address, new career, I even ended up with a new name - chosen instead of assigned at birth.
An annulment makes it as if I was never married. I wish my once husband only good, success, prosperity, peace, happiness. I believe hatred breeds hatred. Anger fuels anger. Negativity feasts on negativity. He’s never remarried. I don’t even think he dates. So, I keep sending him blessings. May he never lay hands on another.
I believe in reincarnation. I would not be who I am, where I am, without conscious changes.
— Lkai
My mother once despaired: you sure took the long way off the path to get here. I countered that I would not be who I am, I would not know what I know, if I had lived my life any other way. I am a believer in things happening for reasons – reasons that may not be clear to us until years later. I can look back at the choices and opportunities and trace the line on how I got to be here. This “X”; this spot marked.
I was married once. I married for the first (and only time) when I was 36, to a man I’d dated for a year. It was a courthouse wedding, but I took the vows as solemn. When he started having bursts of rage, I side stepped his anger. When he gave me the silent treatment for days, I hummed to myself and talked to our dogs. Like a switch flipped he would go from loving husband to unrecognized other person – angry, sullen, holding back violence. He did not touch me.
I took my vows as solemn. I spent a lot of time in the little church walking distance from our house. The church was the one place I could go that my husband would not question or follow me. Inside, there were six stained glass windows, one depicting a tiny sailboat on stormy seas. That was my focus. That was my prayer – I am a tiny boat lost in a very stormy sea. Lord, protect me.
My line in the sand was physical violence. He agreed to one session of counseling. On the way out the counselor handed us each her card. When I looked at her card later, she’d given me a card for a shelter, and number to call for help getting out. I hid the card in my wallet and recognized my line in the sand was real. I made a new vow, equally solemn. If he laid a hand on me, I’d be gone.
The Sunday before my world broke, the priest at the little church gave an unexpected sermon. As if talking directly to me, he said, or I heard, that God did not want people in a dangerous situation. That even wedding vows could be broken if it meant the safety and wellbeing of a person.
Saturday
A whole day of tolerating the “Other” husband culminated with him calling me a liar. Then he called me stupid. I knew I was provoking him. I knew I was close to the line. It was still a shock when he grabbed my shoulders, threw me into the wall, pushed me to the floor and spat as he loomed over me: “The last person who pissed me off this bad I beat to a bloody pulp. Get out of my G**d***** house.” My line had been crossed.
Saturday evening
As soon as he let go. I grabbed my keys, my purse. I drove away. Later, from my sister’s house, I called every friend I had and asked for strong men, boxes and pick-up trucks.
Sunday morning
Four trucks, six men, seven women a bunch of boxes and I was packed up and moved out in under three hours.
Sunday evening
I'm living at my parent's house since a couple reincarnations ago.
Monday
I filed for divorce. (I was granted an annulment, and a new name, eight months later)
Tuesday
I started classes to get certificated for my current career path.
Wednesday
I had to stop for a moment. I had changed just about every aspect of my life possible. As a result of hands laid upon me, I made a sudden left turn, new path, new marital status, new address, new career, I even ended up with a new name - chosen instead of assigned at birth.
An annulment makes it as if I was never married. I wish my once husband only good, success, prosperity, peace, happiness. I believe hatred breeds hatred. Anger fuels anger. Negativity feasts on negativity. He’s never remarried. I don’t even think he dates. So, I keep sending him blessings. May he never lay hands on another.
I believe in reincarnation. I would not be who I am, where I am, without conscious changes.
— Lkai
Ah, I see the sort of reincarnation you are talking about. Me, too. Although I don't believe it's all for a "reason" as if Something were controlling my life (and all lives). I did what I could in the moment, most of the time. Interesting and compelling interpretation of the prompt! (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteI meant, but the last line to show that the Reason - is based on our choices and actions. I've learned - sometimes the hard way - to make mindful choices. Like playing chess or driving in complicated traffic - trying to see three moves ahead so you can recognize when you're going to lose your rook, or that the car in the lane to the left is about to do something stupid. Factoring in variables. Nothing's controlling our lives except us - some/most of the time (lkai)
DeleteI honor and respect this piece so much - your knowing the line that must be held/must not be crossed, learning more about your choice and your choices, and your choosing you, your choosing you and your choices. That sounds redundant, I know, but to me it's the layers and layers of choices and consequences. Good for you as the heroine of the story and as its writer! Shoulders back. Be proud!
ReplyDelete