Our Rasputin--The Itinerant Loafer and Home-Wrecking, Child-Beating Flatterer...

But other than THAT, he was a GREAT GUY!  (That is, if you fancy obsequious weasels!)

At the start of 1994, our marriage was undeniably in trouble.  

At one point in that terrible year, I was stricken with the return of panic disorder.  I had first experienced it in college, following my first encounter with unrestricted foreplay with a visiting sweetheart.   

I interpreted this latest bout of panic as a symptom of my psyche's revulsion at my womanizing outside of the marriage without Aisha's knowledge.  I was skating on thin ice, and my deep psychology knew it.

She DESERVED to know if her partner was putting her at risk with his behavior.  I could almost forgive her for everything else she did that hurt me.

However, I rationalized that I always took precautions and, besides, I told myself, I drew little to no emotional intimacy from the encounters.

It came as a total shock when Aisha unexpectedly began an outside relationship.

The first evidence to it came one night, which just so happened to be my first experiment with the drug Ecstasy, or MMDA, or 'The Love Drug.'  I don't know that I expected to find 'love' with it, but I had heard about it for years and was an old psychedelic veteran of many acid trips.

A teenage friend I had given a ride to gave me a complimentary dose. 

So, it was extraordinarily counterintuitive when Aisha interrupted my 'trip' to announce that she wanted a divorce from me.

I could hardly believe it.  For all our conflicts and disagreements, I never once CONSIDERED that we would ever separate.  I naively assumed that whatever conflicts arose would just pass away by themselves.  And I HAD been working with a therapist to stop drinking.  And I had been prescribed Valium by our GP for my alcohol addiction.

(And  I didn't know that that isn't the way you do it!)

But no, she would have none of it.  I thought possibly the main reason was that Sidi was in America for the first time and destined to arrive in Marin in a few days.  She was utterly blissed out by the prospect.  I expected she had visions of the new Shadhiliya Order zawiyas all over the US. 

(Which did happen, only the leadership was not really in her hands.  She had to satisfy herself with being the order's publisher, which she threw herself into with great enthusiasm).

I settled back into a comfortable delusion.  Sidi was coming, and I knew he was famous for rarely granting divorces in the Islamic court. 

He took pride in his ability to save any marriage.  As dependent as Aisha was on Sidi, I expected that he would never allow her to divorce me.  So, I sat back and waited, expecting him to fix our marriage for me. 

Even though I was unsatisfied with the marriage, I couldn't imagine leaving it either.  My thinking did not go much further than that. I was, after all, heavily into drugs and alcohol at this point. Although that was also destroying my ability to think clearly as events were proceeding rapidly--too rapidly for me to keep up with.

So the day came, and Sidi arrived in our locality. A big meeting at our house was organized. As it began, Sidi called us up before the crowd and, as he had once before, urged us to put our hands in the others and told us to reaffirm our marriage vows. I was shocked when she refused and ran out of the room. But I told myself she would eventually relent.

But unfortunately, she did not. 

To some extent, I was proud of her for refusing to let Sidi dictate her actions. However, I still didn't realize that Sidi never enforced his orders or exacted penalties on those who didn't follow them. He publicly demanded that she stay married, but he had a wait-and-see attitude.

 

All this went on for a day or two when a brother from New Mexico took me aside and pointed to a character, Ali, who had been staying at our house. He had apparently met Sidi earlier in New Mexico. Aisha had also been there, and they began a 'friendship' there. Ali had also taken Sidi's hand as his Sheik, giving up his commitment to another. 

The brother said, " If you want to save your marriage, you'd better get rid of that guy." 

Suddenly, it was clear to me that Ali was not staying in our house just to learn more about Sidi from her. He was also there to help my wife, Aisha, break free from me!

 Hot anger reared inside me, and I yelled at him to get out. Aisha tearfully rebuked me for sending away "the best friend I ever had!"

So off he went, but it was already too late. He remained in the neighborhood, and they had clandestine meetings around town and talked for hours at night on the phone.

 I complained to Sidi about this jerk and expected him to expel Ali from the Order and send him away for good. He did NOT do so, and he did not explain why. 

He may have wanted to give Aisha the freedom to do what she wanted, but he didn't want her to do so publicly. He may have thought she might come around gradually. Who knows? 

I wondered what he got out of playing with other people. Was he also a victim? In any case, it hardly matters today, 30 years afterward.

I was highly disappointed in him. So. I began writing letters to Aisha all day long, as I had during our courtship, begging her to return to me and promising to be a better and more serious Islamic husband to her in the future.

But her heart was set on this guy.  He was wily and flattering. He acted as if she were the Oracle of Delphi—perhaps he really believed she was. 

I was confused until I realized she was letting herself be sweet-talked.  She was overcompensating for some perceived lack in herself by imagining herself as an Oracle or Seer.

Today, I see her as hopelessly cultic, sublimating her entire life to propagating Sidi's books and converting whomever she could to Sidi's particular vision of the Reality of God.

I'm lucky she ran off with an ass rather than a man of substance. Ali couldn't even feed or house himself. He relied on other people's charity. He was a 'Visionary' as well.

The kids didn't like him. He had hit them both. He was preachy and sanctimonious. A nicer man might have charmed my children more and pulled them even further from my grasp.

A more substantial man might have had the initiative and means to successfully fight me off. In fact, he had to 'borrow' money from Aisha--and ergo, ultimately from me-- to defend himself against me in court. 

 I wanted to know more about what was going on with them. Of course, I was concerned about the ki and had heard the but I was also hurting pretty badly in general. I was still hoping to win her back,

I set up a cassette recorder in a hidden part of my exterior office and connected it to our phone line. Whenever someone picked up the phone, the recorder began recording. 

Hence, each morning, I listened to their excruciatingly long and (to me) vapid conversations, many of which concerned my demerits.

While some of me reveled in my wicked cleverness in this, I was also heartbroken to hear myself spoken of as some sort of beast.  Though admittedly, I was at a low ebb.  Dammit, I didn't WANT to be a slave of alcohol.

The final blow came one night when I heard Ali say, " Something, something..this idea of turning Ibrahim's energy over to ME!"

My blood ran cold. 

As I recall, Aisha didn't react or comment.  She didn't say anything against the idea. Evidently, to her, the idea was within the range of what was to be considered normal.

Now, I can see how being angry enough with one's ex-spouse might lead to seeking more exemplary adult models for one's children, and I was NOT in the best form in those days.  

But no one "owns" another person's energy to give away. So, how exactly does one "transfer" it? 

In my view, Aisha and Ali were interested in gaining the power to manipulate other people through their presumed spiritual superiority, the same way they saw Sidi controlling people's 'energy.'  They were sincere imitators of Sidi's pathology.

I DID discover, ultimately, that Ali had, in the case of both children, resorted to blows to 'discipline' them--something neither Aisha nor I had ever done.  

(On second thought, I once did it to Ibrahim, and he SMACKED me RIGHT BACK.  And we dissolved in laughter and tears and promised each other we'd never do it again).

At that point, I had exhausted my patience with Ali and asked my lawyer to prepare a restraining order against him. Unfortunately, I did not attend the court on the appointed date.  Aisha may have realized that the man who had relied on her (and, therefore, ultimately me) to cover his own legal defense expenses would not be the savior she had hoped for.

And that he was being hauled into court for his corporal punishment of her children probably sealed his fate.  But not before the damage was done to our son, who must have been utterly confused about what to do, believe, and what family loyalty meant.

I couldn't deny that my behavior was at an all-time low.  I don't even remember much about my life with my children after the divorce was announced, and we continued to live unhappily together as we waited for our house to sell.

When we did separate, I grew worried that Aisha and Ali might somehow run away with the children.  I should have known better since they were still living off of me when she and he lived together in Napa.

I hired a private investigator to monitor their movements.  The above video is part of what he captured.  It is significant because it indicates his too-eager, staged intimacy with Ibrahim. 

The children seemed perplexed by Ali's sudden appearance in their lives, which a month earlier still included seeing me daily in our long-term home.

I still can't get over what inspired Aisha to take up with this guy. Or that she allowed him to babysit our children. He went through the motions of being a caring surrogate father. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say, 'Take over Ibrahim's energy,' But it was obviously just a show. He wasn't interested in THEM.  He was interested in HER.

Zooey, notably, didn't like him and told him so to his face. I was so proud of her.  Later, when I saw this video, although sad at the house, she was disheveled and ignored in a messy, cluttered bedroom.  

I was SHOCKED at Aisha, who usually cared about dressing the children impeccably and providing them with a clean, almost sterile home.  (She suffered from allergies.)

I can only assume Aisha was in some happy frenzy with all the new disciples following in the wake of Sidi's First American Road Show.

In any case, Aisha may have held a legitimate grudge against me, but Ali didn't. He had accepted our hospitality and lived in our home for a few days before stabbing me in the back. He also facilitated the breaking up of our family because that is what 'best friends' help you do.

She had a choice whether or not to leave me.  Our son, Ibrahim, didn't.  

Ibrahim then had to go with her because I was employed, and she wasn't. As far as I know, Ibrahim didn't blame me for the divorce at that point; he was only 10-11.

But given his proximity to Aisha and Ali's chattering about my demerits, he had 

Children, particularly boys, like to take on more power than they desire or are able to. It makes them feel powerful.

Aisha was not discreet about her feelings for me. Zooey reported that she had told them, "He's a father, but he doesn't act like a father."

I was fortunate that Zooey was too young to pick up all the adult sadness and pathology, but Ibrahim sure did. I will discuss that in another chapter. Zooey's continuing love saved my life.

Zooey told me that everyone was dissing me and that she had to choose between them and me. I didn't want to believe it, and I didn't want her to be hurt, so I glossed over it.

Muhammad is famous for saying that of all the things Allah allows, divorce is the least pleasing to Him. That's very wise, but I can't even speak for that wisdom from the children's point of view. Both of my girls seem to have gotten through it okay. Not my son, though. He's still fighting his own demons.\

Anyway, it's not a pretty story.