The Definition of Perspicuity

I know, it's a strange looking word and not that easy to pronounce, but the depth of meaning is boundless. To put it simply it means clearness or lucidity. Clearness of mind. Clearness of body. Clearness of spirit. And lucidity enough to know when someone is being less the perspicuous.

I see my past, my present, and my future. I know that everything that I was, everything that I am, and everything I will be has been presented to me with clear precision. This was your road, this is your path, and this is your highway. The past, full of potholes and cracks. The present, a dirt path being forged into virgin soil. The future, a super highway, where everyone is traveling in the same direction. Speeding. Flashes of light. Horns blaring. Traveled only by those brave enough to take the chance at a brand new future.

I am perspicuity by nature. I am perspicuity by design. I am perspicuity defined.

Time

There are many times in life when a person will face adversity. Trials and tribulations come in many forms. Financial, emotional, familial, health - whatever the composition, there comes a time when you have to take control, rise above, and soar to new heights. The moment we say goodbye to the circumstances that brought us to our current position can be bittersweet, yet exhilarating at the same time.

Two weeks ago I faced my own personal adversity and conquered it. Coming to the realization that I have depended on another person to support me financially my entire life was certainly eye-opening, and I wondered, "How did I let that happen?" That was my answer though...I let it happen. I didn't fight for what I believed in. I let another's actions control mine just because it was the easier path to traverse.

The time has come for me to change that. I'm going back to school. When I finish, for the first time in my life I will be able to say "I know how to do this and I have the diploma to prove it." I've bid goodbye to the insecurity that has kept me trapped in a life of dependency and welcomed with open arms the promise of a future filled with self-achievement. Looking back, I know that I had to experience my past to bring the promise of my future. Bittersweet? Yes. Exhilarating? Most definitely. Above all, it's time.

The Carousel Ride

As a little girl, my favorite ride at the fair was the carousel. I would carefully pick the most beautiful horse to sit upon. They were always painted in the most brilliant colors with manes and tails streaming in an unseen wind. I'd grab the reins, waiting in gleeful anticipation for the calliope music to begin. I would wave to my mom as the first notes of music sounded and the horse began rise and fall. Those kind were my favorites. The ones where the horses would go up and down, up and down. It was the greatest feeling in the world. Going round and round, up and down, in circles, faster and faster until all the world was a blur.

When the music stopped, everyone would slide off the backs of their gallant steeds that had given them the greatest ride of their lives. What nobody ever let on, what was never told, is that when the music stopped, we were all dizzy. All of sudden that great ride had an unanticipated side effect. We'd try to stay steady on our feet, but we would sway, and even bump into the now lifeless mounts. Eventually though we all regained our equilibrium and stepped onto solid ground.

Yesterday my carousel ride came to an end. There is a void in the air around me that was once filled to overflowing with pipe organ music. Sounds penetrate but they seem foreign because I couldn't hear them before. I'm standing on the platform, dizzy and swaying, hoping to once again step on solid ground without anyone knowing how much I've lost my balance.

"My Hair Is So Now"

"I got bangs! My hair is so now." From Legally Blonde.

Why do we women feel the need to cut our hair when there is major change in our lives? Well, I don't know about everybody else, but I do at least. I've cut, permed, styled, clipped, and grown men out of my life. It never fails. Oh, I say, "this time I'm not going to change my hair." But, I always do. Why?

The psychologist/psychiatrist in me says it is because I have control of my hair. By changing my hair, I've controlled something when I feel I've lost control. I wasn't the one that caused my life to go in a different direction and changing my hair is the easiest way to take back control.

Oh, there are other things I can control...like that 30 extra pounds I gained when I quit smoking. Those bad boys are the next thing to go. Then there's my clothes. A new wardrobe isn't sounding so bad right now. I've even thought about re-arranging the house. New furniture in my future?

Whatever the surface reason may be, deep down, I think we do it because we want to feel pretty when a bit of ugliness has invaded our lives. I feel pretty today because, "I got bangs!"

Becoming Jane

Last night I watched the movie Becoming Jane. It was about a woman that gave up the love of her life for the greater good. An unselfish act that she had to live with. I wondered how she must've felt as she was being carried away from the only man she would ever love. How her heart must've been breaking to leave him standing there staring after her carriage. The movie portrayed it as a noble act. A decision made on the spur of the moment to prevent a far greater tragedy than two ruined reputations. The decision was made to prevent children from living in destitution.

Everything turned out well in the end. Her love went on to marry and start a family and Jane Austin lived by her pen. Each never find true fulfillment because their hearts are never whole, but content for it to be that way because for a brief moment in time they were together. He showed his commitment to her by naming his daughter Jane, and she showing hers by not marrying another, because nobody's love could ever compare to his.

I watched this movie and thought, I want to be like Jane. I want to have the courage to do the right thing even though it breaks my heart. I want to be content with the choices I make even if those choices mean that I will stand alone. And most of all...I want to live by my pen.

The Closet

A few days ago I started going through things you left in the closet. Things not important to you anymore. Of course there is the clothes I've washed and hung. I left them there because you said you would return and we would be a family again...someday. Now someday will never come. There's magazines you insisted be saved, but have no importance to me. Wires, cables, and computer components of all sorts. I have not a clue what they're for, but you needed them.

All of these things, while they hold memories of us...together, they are not important. I continue the dig, because you've said the house is mine to do with as I will. I find much of the same, adding old shoes to the pile. My how you wore shoes out quickly. Then down at the bottom, at the very back, there is a box. I box full of video tapes. I know some of these contain the birth of our children, their subsequent birthdays, and Christmases we celebrated together. Which is which? I have no idea. Are some from an old job? Probably. How can I find out? Again, I'm at a loss. You took the video camera with you. Not the memories, but the memory maker. Something for you to make new memories and leave the old ones behind. Just like you left us.

Yes, I know. I know all about it. You're engaged. You didn't want me to know, but I do. You're starting a new family. You're going to take your all important memory maker and make new memories. At the very least a new wife. I wonder, will there be new birth videos? Probably. Probably sooner than later. All these new memories you will be making and all the old ones, us, me and the kids. We're in a box, on the floor, in the back of the closet.

So, now I have piles of discarded possessions. Things not important to you. I've decided to have a sell. A "Kicking Him To The Curb" sell. Everything goes. well, except the memories. Those I will keep, because you don't even remember that they exist.

The Appearance

I didn't think it would happen...but it did. I was going along my happy way, down life's path, looking neither right or left. I knew where I was going and this was the path that would get me there. All I had to do was pay attention to the caution signs of life. Which, coincidently, look a lot like traffic signs.

Caution signs they're called. They are there to warn us of obstacles in our path. There so we can be prepared and take evasive action. Bump, dip, sharp turn, or winding road. Divided highway, merging traffic, or flash flood area. I've seen them all and made it through.

Then one day a new sign appeared. CAUTION: Fork Ahead! What?!!!! That's not supposed to be there. I'm going this way. Not that. Which way do I go now?

My fork has a name. Its name is Divorce. A very nice word for a very ugly situation. Yes, after fifteen years of marriage and three children, I am getting divorced.

You may think I'm hurt. I'm not. You may think I'm mad. I'm not. What am I?

LOST!

How do I support my children if he doesn't pay child support? How do I support myself without any certification for any type of job? How do I tell my children? How do I find my way back to who I am? Who am I at all? What do I do now?

All these questions went through my head. They've kept me awake. They've woken me from a deep sleep. Constantly on my mind day and night. Night and day. Then it hit me. That fork in the path. That's my path. That's me. That's who I am.

All this time I've been being taken for a ride. I went where you went. Did what you wanted. I was never in the driver's seat. Every dip, twist, turn, or bump I hit was on your road. Not mine. I've just been riding shotgun.

You know that big black truck in your review mirror? The one with the flashers on coming up on your bumper fast? That's me. I'm in the driver's seat. CAUTION!