Goddesses, Goodness, and Grace

I have met the goddess, and her name is Durga.

I do things ass-backwards according to everyone else’s standards, I think.  In this case, I named the dog before I even met her, hoping the right one would come to me.  An experiment in faith, I suppose.

I was at wits’ end.  Terrified and terrorized in my own house, the fear bleeding into other areas of my life. I was more snappy, more tearful, and always on edge.

Everyone’s full of advice when you’ve been broken into. “Get a gun,” is the thing people told me the most, followed by “Get an alarm system,” and then, “Get a dog.”

No one tells you to “Get a life,” although it felt like that had been stolen from me.  Months ago, I had been broken into, with stuff stolen. It was just stuff, but the feeling of dirtiness and violation stayed for months.  There’s nothing quite like walking into your house to find your most private stuff pulled out of drawers, all of your drawers empty, and your clothes off the hanger.   Just because.

So I had an alarm system installed.

I had finally caught my breath from that, when I heard people in my back yard early, early one morning, trying to steal, of all things, my outdoor grill.

So I had a fence built.

Two days later, I awoke to see someone in my backyard, yet again, talking on a cell phone and peeking through my windows and the fence of my neighbor. I didn’t have a lock on it yet; it was brand new and built while I was at work, but there he was, staring at me while I stared at him. The police came, of course, but he was long gone, and when I had finally collected myself enough to drive and get a lock, I returned home to find him or someone else had been back in the yard — they had turned over heavy metal chairs, letting me know they had been there.

A four-and-a-half-month long period from first time to last, the beginning and end of the semester.  I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be right again. I looked for a dog half-heartedly; after all, I was afraid of the commitment, afraid of the neediness of dogs compared to the self-sufficiency of cats.  I think, after having watched my brother grieve his Lab who died  just weeks ago, I was afraid of the connection.

But then I found goodness in, of all things, a leather party.  My biggest surprise, I think, in my exploration in leather (which I’ve kept separate, but everything’s connected, right?) is that while kink and leather or (pick your label) is the reason why the people are gathered, it is their grace that connects them.

I love these people.  Pagan, Christian, atheist, from all walks of life, from all backgrounds and ethnicities, the characteristic that I find to be their greatest commonality is their compassion and, well, grace.  There is no standard for what constitutes kink, people’s areas of interest vary more than their eye color. But there is a standard for kindness and compassion, and it runs through them, with few exceptions, bringing all of the tributaries with different faces into contact with one river.

I went to the party. I was not okay. Every I was almost okay, someone would ask me if I were okay, and I’d start crying all over again.  I was angry and impotent, angry at those who continued to mess with me, angry at so-called friends who had hurt me, angry at things I had no idea I was still angry at until it climaxed in a catharsis later in the evening.  Surrounded by friends, I screamed, howled, and yelped until I was done.

And boy, was I done. Something switched in me, and I was okay again.

It was the next morning that I chose my dog’s name and began looking for her in earnest.  The name Durga in Sanskrit means “Invincible.”  A  Hindu goddess, she embodies protection, morality, and compassion.  She carries both many weapons to slay various threats and a lotus flower as well, which indicates balance.

If ever there were a needed energy in my home, it was this.

Nothing is ordinary about her, including the circumstances of my finding her, but that’s a story in itself.

She is fierce, she is beautiful, and she was gracious enough to come home with me.

I’m in for a world of trouble, and looking forward to it.