I am preparing for an interview tomorrow.
I have to engage a group in a 5 - 7 minute educational activity.
I am going to demonstrate the consequences of subtle biases on a community.
I am working toward explaining it simply, but from a bio-psycho-social perspective to demonstrate my strengths...bridging the disciplines.
Wish me luck.
I was wondering about your dog today...
I am sorry that she is so close to death, but know that you understand the cycles of life....
and you love her well.
I have told you this story before...
I was once very frustrated with Mom...
I was in my kitchen and she was in her own home.
I remember my thoughts stopping abruptly and hearing Grammy's voice telling me, "Don't be so hard on her. You don't know what she's been through". I do think she suffered more than she remembers. I think there is more to it than the shame of having a drunk Dad.
The sad thing is that she will die without having dealt with the issues.
Life is an opportunity to grow and learn and love...
despite the traumas that we experience...
the only way to get to a fullness of life is to walk back through the painful memories and "un-numb" yourself. To become fully human we need to feel...
I was talking about my inability to cry yesterday...and how that makes it impossible to feel joy as well...and how shallow life is without those peaks and valleys.
Those are interesting insights on alliances in our family. I wonder if the brothers protected the youngest ones. Abuse, even if it is pre-verbal, still results in neurodevelopment changes which cause behavioral symptoms. I don't know, perhaps the youngest is best a repressing...interesting.
I am off to bed.
I will hold you and your dog in the Light.
Blessings,
Maggie
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
death watch
Hi love,
I am very raw and emotional right now. My little dog is trying to let go. She is breathing more and more slowly. It is time to let her go. I remember her as a tiny girl, all spunky - bossing the husky around. I could see her, imagine her, last night in the dark, when she was young and strong and glossy, running in joy. The boys devised a game called Amy Ball because she would not let them play baseball without her. She was so thrilled every time they got the ball and bat out. And now she is thin and her eyes are clouded over. She is hovering between life and death, but has no choice. She must fall over the brink and choose death. And then I will be without a dog companion for the first time in so, so long.
I am grateful that the cast is off of my arm and I have been able to carry her, rather than lead her with one hand by her neck.
I can feel I am in the presence of Death. I feel like a violin string. I hope I make a beautiful sound. This morning, I fed her and she threw up, and collapsed. I started keening. I felt the vibration. She stopped breathing, but started again. Now she is asleep or unconscious, breathing very slowly and steadily and peacefully. I will not be able to leave her side until this is over.
To add to your thought --- I kind of thought Mom liked me, but Dad hated me. Dad probably hated/resented me because Mom liked me...I think B#2 was Dad's favorite until he started to get in trouble. Then Dad rejected him. I know Mom said mean, rude things to S#3, blamed her, labelled her for things she did not do or were not her fault. I don't know why she had such a strong reaction. I always thought it had to do with blaming the victim. She assumed our little sister was sexually active and labelled her, could not see beyond her own fear of sex, nor imagined forced sexual activity. She never protected her/us, never saw there was a big picture...Or else, Mom suffered molestation and allowed her own self-loathing to spill out on her precious daughter. Do you think that is possible?
I remember the day S#3 was hit by the car. For some reason I was home from school, and watching you all - getting everyone off to school. You called and told me what happened. S#3 said she just tripped in front of the car. I called Mom who was at work, because I was not sure what to do. She said if S#3 was okay, let it go. I think I would have been in a panic if it had been my child.
I do what S#3 does. I hide. I don't want anyone/everyone to know what a loser I am. She showed me our pattern - when we are quiet - something bad is happening. She has been through a lot. And yet she remains generous and humorous and willing to help.
I had two dreams. One involved sitting with my neighbor, who is sick, talking - with a puppy on my lap. The puppy was staring into my eyes, and knew me. When someone came to get it, it did not want to leave...Then last night, I dreamed I was in the house in F-burg. Parts of it were mirror image, parts were decorated differently, but it was the house. And I was discovering new items, and commenting, "I didn't know we had that!" S#5 was there and I referred to myself as her mother - although I never had maternal feelings toward her. She was always mean to me, preferring B#1, and said she was his girl...I just remembered that she used to spend a lot of time with him when she was very young - 2 or 3 years old. Do you think he molested her also? What would be the difference if it happened for a shorter time at a younger age? Just remembering - our stories, our experiences...There were other people, either B#4 or my middle son...and others. The house was decorated in an older style - wall paper browned with age, oversized furniture.
I had another middle of the night experience, too, that I have been thinking about. Recently I hugged a beech tree. Since then I have been thinking about trees. Last night I had the image that trees pulse with the Earth, rather than have hearts. As we evolved with hearts, we necessarity evolved into separate beings. But when we love. our hearts join and we pulse together, strengthening and feeding the Earth. It was beautiful and soothing and comforting.
My death watch continues...
I love you very much!
Clare
I am very raw and emotional right now. My little dog is trying to let go. She is breathing more and more slowly. It is time to let her go. I remember her as a tiny girl, all spunky - bossing the husky around. I could see her, imagine her, last night in the dark, when she was young and strong and glossy, running in joy. The boys devised a game called Amy Ball because she would not let them play baseball without her. She was so thrilled every time they got the ball and bat out. And now she is thin and her eyes are clouded over. She is hovering between life and death, but has no choice. She must fall over the brink and choose death. And then I will be without a dog companion for the first time in so, so long.
I am grateful that the cast is off of my arm and I have been able to carry her, rather than lead her with one hand by her neck.
I can feel I am in the presence of Death. I feel like a violin string. I hope I make a beautiful sound. This morning, I fed her and she threw up, and collapsed. I started keening. I felt the vibration. She stopped breathing, but started again. Now she is asleep or unconscious, breathing very slowly and steadily and peacefully. I will not be able to leave her side until this is over.
To add to your thought --- I kind of thought Mom liked me, but Dad hated me. Dad probably hated/resented me because Mom liked me...I think B#2 was Dad's favorite until he started to get in trouble. Then Dad rejected him. I know Mom said mean, rude things to S#3, blamed her, labelled her for things she did not do or were not her fault. I don't know why she had such a strong reaction. I always thought it had to do with blaming the victim. She assumed our little sister was sexually active and labelled her, could not see beyond her own fear of sex, nor imagined forced sexual activity. She never protected her/us, never saw there was a big picture...Or else, Mom suffered molestation and allowed her own self-loathing to spill out on her precious daughter. Do you think that is possible?
I remember the day S#3 was hit by the car. For some reason I was home from school, and watching you all - getting everyone off to school. You called and told me what happened. S#3 said she just tripped in front of the car. I called Mom who was at work, because I was not sure what to do. She said if S#3 was okay, let it go. I think I would have been in a panic if it had been my child.
I do what S#3 does. I hide. I don't want anyone/everyone to know what a loser I am. She showed me our pattern - when we are quiet - something bad is happening. She has been through a lot. And yet she remains generous and humorous and willing to help.
I had two dreams. One involved sitting with my neighbor, who is sick, talking - with a puppy on my lap. The puppy was staring into my eyes, and knew me. When someone came to get it, it did not want to leave...Then last night, I dreamed I was in the house in F-burg. Parts of it were mirror image, parts were decorated differently, but it was the house. And I was discovering new items, and commenting, "I didn't know we had that!" S#5 was there and I referred to myself as her mother - although I never had maternal feelings toward her. She was always mean to me, preferring B#1, and said she was his girl...I just remembered that she used to spend a lot of time with him when she was very young - 2 or 3 years old. Do you think he molested her also? What would be the difference if it happened for a shorter time at a younger age? Just remembering - our stories, our experiences...There were other people, either B#4 or my middle son...and others. The house was decorated in an older style - wall paper browned with age, oversized furniture.
I had another middle of the night experience, too, that I have been thinking about. Recently I hugged a beech tree. Since then I have been thinking about trees. Last night I had the image that trees pulse with the Earth, rather than have hearts. As we evolved with hearts, we necessarity evolved into separate beings. But when we love. our hearts join and we pulse together, strengthening and feeding the Earth. It was beautiful and soothing and comforting.
My death watch continues...
I love you very much!
Clare
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Glad you are back...
What wold happen if I just let the ideas swirl in my head????
I am not sure.
I work so hard at clearing my mind that I try hard not to pay attention to the thoughts...
and yet they still swirl on a chaotic day...
do I sit within the chaos and see what it teaches me?
A very interesting thought.
I like the idea of Pronoia...
I do believe that the universe is helping us...
but we (humans and the universe) work at different goals.
The universe tends toward entropy...disorder.
Humans, and all living things, use energy to create order.
Are those complimentary activities or do they work against each other?
I am not sure...probably both.
The one thing that is certain is that it is all energy...
in one form or another...
and my favorite law is the first law of thermodynamics...
energy can be neither created or destroyed, only transformed into other forms.
SO the energy that is swirling in my head may transform itself into some other form of energy or matter.
I will attempt to allow my thoughts to run free and see where they take me.
I do remember your neighbor cautioning me to be patient...
but I am not patient and I am getting anxious to set out on the next part of my journey.
I will remind myself that it will all happen...in due time.
I am going to the beach in 2 weeks.
This is a quiet beach with very few people who go there.
There is no boardwalk, no casino, no mass of human bodies to step around in order to get to the water...
We are going as a family plus 2 friends...
it will hopefully allow us time to reconnect and relax with one another.
It's funny...
when you mentioned our siblings discussing who was least favorite I had an interesting thought...
as a child I never felt least favorite...I didn't feel particularly loved, but I felt that I was tolerable.
I always felt badly for S#3...she was so afraid to be seen. She got in trouble for ruining/canceling the family vacation because of a carbuncle on her leg. She dived into the swimming pool chipping both of her front teeth and was terrified to go home and show the parents. She got hit by a car on our walk to middle school one morning and refused help from the driver, luckily she wasn't injured badly.
She had mishaps and fought against anyone finding out about them. I wonder how many she has successfully hidden from all of us?
It would be interesting to hear B#2's reasoning and stories for his perception of being least favorite. As children I always thought he had as much attention as the youngest two sisters. Maybe there is more to the story than I/we know.
I was looking for an old email today and came across the one from our youngest sister, telling us to resolve our personal issues privately and leave her memories alone. I wonder if she'll come to a point where she has to work through all of this, as we are doing. I wonder if she'll ever admit to imperfections.
Love and Light,
Maggie
I am not sure.
I work so hard at clearing my mind that I try hard not to pay attention to the thoughts...
and yet they still swirl on a chaotic day...
do I sit within the chaos and see what it teaches me?
A very interesting thought.
I like the idea of Pronoia...
I do believe that the universe is helping us...
but we (humans and the universe) work at different goals.
The universe tends toward entropy...disorder.
Humans, and all living things, use energy to create order.
Are those complimentary activities or do they work against each other?
I am not sure...probably both.
The one thing that is certain is that it is all energy...
in one form or another...
and my favorite law is the first law of thermodynamics...
energy can be neither created or destroyed, only transformed into other forms.
SO the energy that is swirling in my head may transform itself into some other form of energy or matter.
I will attempt to allow my thoughts to run free and see where they take me.
I do remember your neighbor cautioning me to be patient...
but I am not patient and I am getting anxious to set out on the next part of my journey.
I will remind myself that it will all happen...in due time.
I am going to the beach in 2 weeks.
This is a quiet beach with very few people who go there.
There is no boardwalk, no casino, no mass of human bodies to step around in order to get to the water...
We are going as a family plus 2 friends...
it will hopefully allow us time to reconnect and relax with one another.
It's funny...
when you mentioned our siblings discussing who was least favorite I had an interesting thought...
as a child I never felt least favorite...I didn't feel particularly loved, but I felt that I was tolerable.
I always felt badly for S#3...she was so afraid to be seen. She got in trouble for ruining/canceling the family vacation because of a carbuncle on her leg. She dived into the swimming pool chipping both of her front teeth and was terrified to go home and show the parents. She got hit by a car on our walk to middle school one morning and refused help from the driver, luckily she wasn't injured badly.
She had mishaps and fought against anyone finding out about them. I wonder how many she has successfully hidden from all of us?
It would be interesting to hear B#2's reasoning and stories for his perception of being least favorite. As children I always thought he had as much attention as the youngest two sisters. Maybe there is more to the story than I/we know.
I was looking for an old email today and came across the one from our youngest sister, telling us to resolve our personal issues privately and leave her memories alone. I wonder if she'll come to a point where she has to work through all of this, as we are doing. I wonder if she'll ever admit to imperfections.
Love and Light,
Maggie
Words from a favorite author...
Sharing something written by Rob Brezsny, one of my favorite philosopher/writers. He wrote one of the books I have found most inspiring - Pronoia. That is the sneaking suspicion that the universe is out to help you!
I was thinking about commenting on the various paragraphs below, but in rerereading, it stands for itself so well.
This is what I have been thinking about today...
It's from the piece called "Subterranean Pronoia Therapy."
1. Declare amnesty for the part of you that you don't love very well.
Forgive that poor sucker. Hold its hand and take it out to dinner and a
movie. Tactfully offer it a chance to make amends for the dumb things it
has done.
And then do a dramatic reading of this proclamation by the playwright
Theodore Rubin: "I must learn to love the fool in me -- the one who feels
too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and
loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt,
promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me
against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor
and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for
my fool."
2. The greatest gift you can give might be the gift that you yourself were
never given. Give that gift.
The most valuable service you have to offer your fellow humans may be
the service you have always wished were performed for you. Offer that
service.
An experience that wounded you could move you to help people who've
been similarly wounded. Heal yourself by healing others.
3. No matter how holy and good, everyone in the world has a portion of
the world's sickness inside them. It's known by many names: neurosis,
shadow, demon, devil. Many people try to deny that it inhabits them.
Others acknowledge its power so readily that they allow themselves to be
overwhelmed and distorted by it.
At the Beauty and Truth Lab, we take a position between those two
positions. We accept the fact that the evil is part of us, but treat it with
compassionate amusement and flexible vigilance. Our stance is partly that
of loving parents and partly that of warriors.
Once you make a commitment to explore the mysteries of pronoia, your
shadow will try to play tricks on you that it has never tried before. How
will you respond? We recommend an aggressive, tender, improvisational
approach. Be ready for anything. Avoid both blithe excesses of tolerance
and grave fundamentalism.
4. Philosopher William James proposed that if our culture ever hoped to
shed the deeply ingrained habit of going to war, we'd have to create a
moral equivalent. It's not enough to preach the value of peace, he said.
We have to find other ways to channel our aggressive instincts in order to
accomplish what war does, like stimulate political unity and build civic
virtue.
Astrology provides a complementary perspective. Each of us has the
warrior energy of the planet Mars in our psychological makeup. We can't
simply repress it, but must find a positive way to express it. How might
you go about this project?
5. In his book The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the
World, psychologist James Hillman writes: "The question of evil refers
primarily to the anaesthetized heart, the heart that has no reaction to
what it faces, thereby turning the variegated sensuous face of the world
into monotony, sameness, oneness."
What would you have to do in order to triumph over this kind of evil in
yourself?
6. "The problem, if you love it, is as beautiful as the sunset," wrote J.
Krishnamurti. "The obstacle is the path," says the Zen proverb. What
frustrating puzzle do you love the best?
-Rob Brezsny
Enjoy?
I love you!
Clare
I was thinking about commenting on the various paragraphs below, but in rerereading, it stands for itself so well.
This is what I have been thinking about today...
It's from the piece called "Subterranean Pronoia Therapy."
1. Declare amnesty for the part of you that you don't love very well.
Forgive that poor sucker. Hold its hand and take it out to dinner and a
movie. Tactfully offer it a chance to make amends for the dumb things it
has done.
And then do a dramatic reading of this proclamation by the playwright
Theodore Rubin: "I must learn to love the fool in me -- the one who feels
too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and
loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt,
promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me
against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor
and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for
my fool."
2. The greatest gift you can give might be the gift that you yourself were
never given. Give that gift.
The most valuable service you have to offer your fellow humans may be
the service you have always wished were performed for you. Offer that
service.
An experience that wounded you could move you to help people who've
been similarly wounded. Heal yourself by healing others.
3. No matter how holy and good, everyone in the world has a portion of
the world's sickness inside them. It's known by many names: neurosis,
shadow, demon, devil. Many people try to deny that it inhabits them.
Others acknowledge its power so readily that they allow themselves to be
overwhelmed and distorted by it.
At the Beauty and Truth Lab, we take a position between those two
positions. We accept the fact that the evil is part of us, but treat it with
compassionate amusement and flexible vigilance. Our stance is partly that
of loving parents and partly that of warriors.
Once you make a commitment to explore the mysteries of pronoia, your
shadow will try to play tricks on you that it has never tried before. How
will you respond? We recommend an aggressive, tender, improvisational
approach. Be ready for anything. Avoid both blithe excesses of tolerance
and grave fundamentalism.
4. Philosopher William James proposed that if our culture ever hoped to
shed the deeply ingrained habit of going to war, we'd have to create a
moral equivalent. It's not enough to preach the value of peace, he said.
We have to find other ways to channel our aggressive instincts in order to
accomplish what war does, like stimulate political unity and build civic
virtue.
Astrology provides a complementary perspective. Each of us has the
warrior energy of the planet Mars in our psychological makeup. We can't
simply repress it, but must find a positive way to express it. How might
you go about this project?
5. In his book The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the
World, psychologist James Hillman writes: "The question of evil refers
primarily to the anaesthetized heart, the heart that has no reaction to
what it faces, thereby turning the variegated sensuous face of the world
into monotony, sameness, oneness."
What would you have to do in order to triumph over this kind of evil in
yourself?
6. "The problem, if you love it, is as beautiful as the sunset," wrote J.
Krishnamurti. "The obstacle is the path," says the Zen proverb. What
frustrating puzzle do you love the best?
-Rob Brezsny
Enjoy?
I love you!
Clare
Monday, July 29, 2013
I'm back...
Hi Sister,
I'm back! It was a long weekend, and I am a bit tired. But my guests were such nice people. They were patient and helpful, and basically very likable!
I was glad to read about the family breakthrough. Just hold your son to his agreements, because that is the kind of man you want him to be. I remember that as soon as he was off of a certain grounding, he wanted to dive back into the same situations. It seems he reacts best to slightly more rigid control. When he has freedom, he flaps around a little too much. And then he bruises his wings yet again. And if you make a wrong move, adjust. Tell him you made a mistake and remake the agreement.
Are you still looking for activities for your interview? I strongly suggest you explore the Alternatives to Violence exercises. I have a youth manual...come visit again...we could go to LilyDale...just saying, just trying to lure you!!
Least favorite child argument occurred while traveling for the forced family fun weekend...recent!
Your description of being back in hypervigilant mode, it's just the pattern of the alcoholic family. We are most comfortable when we have a drama, when we can be worried or panicked. You are living what we used to live all the time, every day, and apparently your son has learned the pattern well. I'm not sure what the answer is. I thought of a baby monitor...but that level of intervention relieves him of the duty of growing up and taking responsibility.
I used to make my children tell me why they were being punished or restricted. When they would start nagging for something, I made them explain the situation to me. They couldn't play dumb, but it also pushed them toward taking responsibility. It kind of worked...for some of them. The whole secret of parenting is that none of us have a clue. The more assured we act, the less we know what we are doing. It's kind of not fair, and it is sort of related to the breakdown of community I constantly lament. If we had our healthy parents nearby, it wouldn't be such a maze, or a minefield, to be a parent!
My neighbor said it would be August, toward school time before you knew what you would be doing. Don't push, don't worry, take a breath, enjoy this time. It is a gift! Also, escape to here for a few days.
I had a very strange thought...what would happen if you simply sat and let the thoughts swirl? Don't touch them, just watch them - like a magic show or something. Do you think you would get lost, get scared? Would your head explode? Would you get lost, twisted into knots? Would they take you away? And suddenly I wonder what/who is in the middle of the swirl, making it go round and round and round?
And so I, by virtue of being the oldest, bossiest sibling, declare the first weeks of August as Procrastination Enjoyment Holiday. You are ordered to put shit off. If it can be put off, you must do so until we decide the holiday is over - but it can't be tomorrow. Sit in the swirl, do nothing - ice cream is allowed. Watermelon, too.
Remember the Native lore - we are here to celebrate, not to control.
I missed you too!
Love, love, love...
Clare
I'm back! It was a long weekend, and I am a bit tired. But my guests were such nice people. They were patient and helpful, and basically very likable!
I was glad to read about the family breakthrough. Just hold your son to his agreements, because that is the kind of man you want him to be. I remember that as soon as he was off of a certain grounding, he wanted to dive back into the same situations. It seems he reacts best to slightly more rigid control. When he has freedom, he flaps around a little too much. And then he bruises his wings yet again. And if you make a wrong move, adjust. Tell him you made a mistake and remake the agreement.
Are you still looking for activities for your interview? I strongly suggest you explore the Alternatives to Violence exercises. I have a youth manual...come visit again...we could go to LilyDale...just saying, just trying to lure you!!
Least favorite child argument occurred while traveling for the forced family fun weekend...recent!
Your description of being back in hypervigilant mode, it's just the pattern of the alcoholic family. We are most comfortable when we have a drama, when we can be worried or panicked. You are living what we used to live all the time, every day, and apparently your son has learned the pattern well. I'm not sure what the answer is. I thought of a baby monitor...but that level of intervention relieves him of the duty of growing up and taking responsibility.
I used to make my children tell me why they were being punished or restricted. When they would start nagging for something, I made them explain the situation to me. They couldn't play dumb, but it also pushed them toward taking responsibility. It kind of worked...for some of them. The whole secret of parenting is that none of us have a clue. The more assured we act, the less we know what we are doing. It's kind of not fair, and it is sort of related to the breakdown of community I constantly lament. If we had our healthy parents nearby, it wouldn't be such a maze, or a minefield, to be a parent!
My neighbor said it would be August, toward school time before you knew what you would be doing. Don't push, don't worry, take a breath, enjoy this time. It is a gift! Also, escape to here for a few days.
I had a very strange thought...what would happen if you simply sat and let the thoughts swirl? Don't touch them, just watch them - like a magic show or something. Do you think you would get lost, get scared? Would your head explode? Would you get lost, twisted into knots? Would they take you away? And suddenly I wonder what/who is in the middle of the swirl, making it go round and round and round?
And so I, by virtue of being the oldest, bossiest sibling, declare the first weeks of August as Procrastination Enjoyment Holiday. You are ordered to put shit off. If it can be put off, you must do so until we decide the holiday is over - but it can't be tomorrow. Sit in the swirl, do nothing - ice cream is allowed. Watermelon, too.
Remember the Native lore - we are here to celebrate, not to control.
I missed you too!
Love, love, love...
Clare
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Patience and Trust
I miss you Clare, I hope that you are enjoying your guests.
I really need to let go of some anxiety at this point...
I blew up at son#2 today for making pancakes and leaving the mess for me to clean up...
It was stupid...
it is not an important thing to get upset about...
but I am not here to clean up after them...at least not all of the time.
My point is that I am on edge...
I have so many ideas and projects and possibilities...
and nothing is getting done.
There is no sense of completion.
I still wait on my research.
I still wait for a job.
I still wait for my family to settle down.
I am procrastinating on starting the interviews for our book.
I am procrastinating about getting the clearances I would need to go into schools.
I am procrastinating about applying for my license.
I have my life on hold...and I hate waiting...but I lack the clarity to move ahead.
I sat in meeting this morning unable to stop the swirl inside of my head...
I could focus on breathing for a short period of time, but then the thoughts started up again.
I am feeling less in control, less able to predict the future outcomes, more vulnerable to fate.
I should be happy that I am surrendering to the universe, but it is making me very uneasy.
I feel as if I should be searching for and actively working towards goals, but then I pull back and feel as if the time isn't right yet.
Is that an excuse or am I tuned into my inner self?
I think that deep down it is a positive...
in the past I had to control everything because that was my security, and my sanity.
That comes from years of growing up in chaos and fear.
At least now I am willing to take a step aside, listen to the inner voice and await guidance.
I have been telling myself that serendipity would bring me to the job that I meant to have.
I have been awaiting signs or coincidental occurrences...expecting synchronicity.
I just have to be patient and remain trusting of my source.
I have to be patient and trusting.
Blessings,
Maggie
I really need to let go of some anxiety at this point...
I blew up at son#2 today for making pancakes and leaving the mess for me to clean up...
It was stupid...
it is not an important thing to get upset about...
but I am not here to clean up after them...at least not all of the time.
My point is that I am on edge...
I have so many ideas and projects and possibilities...
and nothing is getting done.
There is no sense of completion.
I still wait on my research.
I still wait for a job.
I still wait for my family to settle down.
I am procrastinating on starting the interviews for our book.
I am procrastinating about getting the clearances I would need to go into schools.
I am procrastinating about applying for my license.
I have my life on hold...and I hate waiting...but I lack the clarity to move ahead.
I sat in meeting this morning unable to stop the swirl inside of my head...
I could focus on breathing for a short period of time, but then the thoughts started up again.
I am feeling less in control, less able to predict the future outcomes, more vulnerable to fate.
I should be happy that I am surrendering to the universe, but it is making me very uneasy.
I feel as if I should be searching for and actively working towards goals, but then I pull back and feel as if the time isn't right yet.
Is that an excuse or am I tuned into my inner self?
I think that deep down it is a positive...
in the past I had to control everything because that was my security, and my sanity.
That comes from years of growing up in chaos and fear.
At least now I am willing to take a step aside, listen to the inner voice and await guidance.
I have been telling myself that serendipity would bring me to the job that I meant to have.
I have been awaiting signs or coincidental occurrences...expecting synchronicity.
I just have to be patient and remain trusting of my source.
I have to be patient and trusting.
Blessings,
Maggie
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Another Day
Another day...
we officially finished baseball season...
my youngest lost in the state playoffs,
he is disappointed but has made some really good friends and had a great experience.
I told his coaches that I thought they did an exceptional job because each boy found a niche and was treated well...no favorites...no yelling or demeaning...it was enjoyable.
Son#1 is calmer...
but is pushing for more freedoms...
he has such a short memory...
I guess that is just part of what makes him unique.
He is eternally optimistic...
and takes advantage of my lack of recall.
I am still sleep deficient...
I lie awake waiting for something to happen...
someone to sneak out or something.
Last night I thought I heard the uncorking of a bottle of wine...
I am back in hypervigilant mode.
I think I am struggling with this for many reasons...
most of which are valid.
But I am definitely struggling because I can't control the outcomes.
I have to rely on my son's judgement and integrity.
I can only hope that he has learned well over the past 16+ years.
I am falling asleep...
I am going to grab a nap while it is quiet here.
Love and Light,
Maggie
we officially finished baseball season...
my youngest lost in the state playoffs,
he is disappointed but has made some really good friends and had a great experience.
I told his coaches that I thought they did an exceptional job because each boy found a niche and was treated well...no favorites...no yelling or demeaning...it was enjoyable.
Son#1 is calmer...
but is pushing for more freedoms...
he has such a short memory...
I guess that is just part of what makes him unique.
He is eternally optimistic...
and takes advantage of my lack of recall.
I am still sleep deficient...
I lie awake waiting for something to happen...
someone to sneak out or something.
Last night I thought I heard the uncorking of a bottle of wine...
I am back in hypervigilant mode.
I think I am struggling with this for many reasons...
most of which are valid.
But I am definitely struggling because I can't control the outcomes.
I have to rely on my son's judgement and integrity.
I can only hope that he has learned well over the past 16+ years.
I am falling asleep...
I am going to grab a nap while it is quiet here.
Love and Light,
Maggie
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Fight or Flight
So my stress increases...
I got little sleep last night.
My son#1 was furious about an impending group counseling session scheduled for today...
he was recommended for it and we agreed to it...
and then last evening he freaked...
I thought he was going to run away...it was fight or flight time...
I checked and rechecked the doors and windows...
I laid awake listening for any sound...
I prayed that he would just find peace and see the reasoning behind the therapy...
and then about 1:30 I went to his room to talk, yet again.
He swears he's not using any chemicals...
he challenges me to do drug testing...
he is crushed by my not trusting him...
and yet I've seen too many people lie to keep using chemicals...
I am so scared that I'll lose him...one way or the other.
He shared some information about his brother so I called his brother into the conversation
(no one was getting any sleep but husband)
We all talked and the truth began to flow...
we made so much progress that I woke husband up to hear it too.
Conversation worked...no one ran...no one is hiding...
I've spoken to my pediatrician and she is going to help with random tests that he agreed to if it keeps him out of therapy...
but he also understands that one positive test means therapeutic intervention.
I am just so tired...
so uncertain if I am doing the right thing...
am I being manipulated...
or am I responsibly handling this in a respectful manner?
I hope it is the second, but only time will tell.
Husband thanks me, repeatedly, for being proactive and handling the situation...he doesn't think he has abilities to handle this type of problem...
but I am floundering too...
I am scared as hell that I am going to make the wrong move and they'll be on a difficult path...
I am not an expert...
but I will fight like a mamma bear to protect these kids...
even if it is from their own poor choices.
I received another invitation to interview for a position...I have to come up with a 5 minute activity to convey a holistic idea. The position is a program specialist so the main responsibility is developing and presenting programs...it is an interesting company the Center for Holistic Change...the potential fascinates me...any ideas? I am thinking something on the interdependence of all beings and non beings or something to do with resilience and relationships...if you know of any Quaker sites that have activities I would appreciate your passing them on.
I hope that you are having a good day.
Love and Light,
Maggie
PS- When did they argue about being least favorite? Recently?
I got little sleep last night.
My son#1 was furious about an impending group counseling session scheduled for today...
he was recommended for it and we agreed to it...
and then last evening he freaked...
I thought he was going to run away...it was fight or flight time...
I checked and rechecked the doors and windows...
I laid awake listening for any sound...
I prayed that he would just find peace and see the reasoning behind the therapy...
and then about 1:30 I went to his room to talk, yet again.
He swears he's not using any chemicals...
he challenges me to do drug testing...
he is crushed by my not trusting him...
and yet I've seen too many people lie to keep using chemicals...
I am so scared that I'll lose him...one way or the other.
He shared some information about his brother so I called his brother into the conversation
(no one was getting any sleep but husband)
We all talked and the truth began to flow...
we made so much progress that I woke husband up to hear it too.
Conversation worked...no one ran...no one is hiding...
I've spoken to my pediatrician and she is going to help with random tests that he agreed to if it keeps him out of therapy...
but he also understands that one positive test means therapeutic intervention.
I am just so tired...
so uncertain if I am doing the right thing...
am I being manipulated...
or am I responsibly handling this in a respectful manner?
I hope it is the second, but only time will tell.
Husband thanks me, repeatedly, for being proactive and handling the situation...he doesn't think he has abilities to handle this type of problem...
but I am floundering too...
I am scared as hell that I am going to make the wrong move and they'll be on a difficult path...
I am not an expert...
but I will fight like a mamma bear to protect these kids...
even if it is from their own poor choices.
I received another invitation to interview for a position...I have to come up with a 5 minute activity to convey a holistic idea. The position is a program specialist so the main responsibility is developing and presenting programs...it is an interesting company the Center for Holistic Change...the potential fascinates me...any ideas? I am thinking something on the interdependence of all beings and non beings or something to do with resilience and relationships...if you know of any Quaker sites that have activities I would appreciate your passing them on.
I hope that you are having a good day.
Love and Light,
Maggie
PS- When did they argue about being least favorite? Recently?
spark
Sending Light as far as your job search - May you find the best fit and may you do the best work for the world. And, follow your intuition.
Every one of my children told me they hated me, and at that moment, they did. They hated me passionately. It is hard to hear, but after my initial shock, may response was always, "I know you do."
I talked to my oldest today. She was having a tough time. She wondered what she was hiding from. I told her it was me. That she had this loving attached mommy who would sometimes turn into a raving banshee. Kids always think it's their fault. The child in her couldn't understand that I was in pain, and lashing out when I felt most helpless. I also told her that I read something recently that indicated that when a pregnant woman is depressed, it changes the hormones the baby is exposed to, and affects their brain chemistry, I had a bout of depression when I was pregnant the first time and the fourth time, both triggered by things in my marriage.
The boy that scared me so much lived on our street, maybe in the next block down, toward the town square. He was maybe two years older than me, and very tall - he looked much older than his age. But he played in the neighborhood with all of the younger boys. B#3 was one of his posse, and I think those boys probably abused our brother - on many levels. But we had no sanctuary. We were sitting ducks. The kid carried a BB gun and killed song-birds. I don't remember exactly why I was so afraid of him, and really hated him. I don't know if it was just a feeling, or if I am blocking something.
It would be good to exchange memories with the neighbor girl. It would validate and fill in your memory gaps, and offer her a Me too. I did a quick search last night, and didn't find her or her brother. I can't remember the half-brother's last name.
Had an emotional reaction this morning to the family pic - our family of origin. I have it up as my screen saver, and I keep looking at it, trying to see us. I was looking at B#3, who looks so much like Mom's family, and suddenly saw Uncle B's smile. I suddenly remember Uncle B kissing his daughter goodbye before he went to work. I remember cringing, and she asked me if I ever kissed my father. I replied - Not like that. And suddenly I was mad, angry at him for using his daughter. How dare he.
Rage breakthrough? It wasn't overly wrathful, but it was a glimmer. And all we need is a spark.
Exhausted. Shower and bed for me!
Love to you,
Clare
PS - S#3 told me that she and B#2 had an argument about who was the least favorite child. Aren't we a healthy family?
Every one of my children told me they hated me, and at that moment, they did. They hated me passionately. It is hard to hear, but after my initial shock, may response was always, "I know you do."
I talked to my oldest today. She was having a tough time. She wondered what she was hiding from. I told her it was me. That she had this loving attached mommy who would sometimes turn into a raving banshee. Kids always think it's their fault. The child in her couldn't understand that I was in pain, and lashing out when I felt most helpless. I also told her that I read something recently that indicated that when a pregnant woman is depressed, it changes the hormones the baby is exposed to, and affects their brain chemistry, I had a bout of depression when I was pregnant the first time and the fourth time, both triggered by things in my marriage.
The boy that scared me so much lived on our street, maybe in the next block down, toward the town square. He was maybe two years older than me, and very tall - he looked much older than his age. But he played in the neighborhood with all of the younger boys. B#3 was one of his posse, and I think those boys probably abused our brother - on many levels. But we had no sanctuary. We were sitting ducks. The kid carried a BB gun and killed song-birds. I don't remember exactly why I was so afraid of him, and really hated him. I don't know if it was just a feeling, or if I am blocking something.
It would be good to exchange memories with the neighbor girl. It would validate and fill in your memory gaps, and offer her a Me too. I did a quick search last night, and didn't find her or her brother. I can't remember the half-brother's last name.
Had an emotional reaction this morning to the family pic - our family of origin. I have it up as my screen saver, and I keep looking at it, trying to see us. I was looking at B#3, who looks so much like Mom's family, and suddenly saw Uncle B's smile. I suddenly remember Uncle B kissing his daughter goodbye before he went to work. I remember cringing, and she asked me if I ever kissed my father. I replied - Not like that. And suddenly I was mad, angry at him for using his daughter. How dare he.
Rage breakthrough? It wasn't overly wrathful, but it was a glimmer. And all we need is a spark.
Exhausted. Shower and bed for me!
Love to you,
Clare
PS - S#3 told me that she and B#2 had an argument about who was the least favorite child. Aren't we a healthy family?
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
we hurt the ones we love...
I had a job interview today.
It was a charter school based position...
what I told myself I did not want to do...
but I really liked the woman I spoke with and her commitment to children.
I have not heard from the other positions I applied for...
except one phone interview that was so cold and impersonal...
I don't think I want that one even if it was offered.
This would be part-time, allow me to continue to teach at the University and continue to do research...
and it would give me the same schedule as my boys...
that is the biggest selling point of the whole deal.
I have always told myself that when my kids lashed out at me it was because they trusted my love...
I know that...
but it still rips me apart when he acts so coldly.
I always end our conversations with "I Love You" so that he can understand it doesn't turn on and off.
Tell me about that neighborhood boy. I know you've referred to him before, but tell me about him.
I remember a group of kids would get up on that flat roof at the back of our yard and throw nuts or rocks or something at us. Didn't we lose our dog because he was defending us against them?
I just can't believe how incredibly bad our experience of living in that town was. I often wonder if 'bad' was attracted there. I have gone back through town 2 times and neither time stopped to get out and walk around. When the song, "The House that Built Me", was released I almost went back and asked to walk around, but resisted that impulse. I am not sure what I would find or feel going back there.
I am intrigued and frightened about the idea of looking for the neighbor girl. Maybe I will reactivate Facebook just long enough to search her name...but then what/
More tomorrow,
Blessings,
Maggie
It was a charter school based position...
what I told myself I did not want to do...
but I really liked the woman I spoke with and her commitment to children.
I have not heard from the other positions I applied for...
except one phone interview that was so cold and impersonal...
I don't think I want that one even if it was offered.
This would be part-time, allow me to continue to teach at the University and continue to do research...
and it would give me the same schedule as my boys...
that is the biggest selling point of the whole deal.
I have always told myself that when my kids lashed out at me it was because they trusted my love...
I know that...
but it still rips me apart when he acts so coldly.
I always end our conversations with "I Love You" so that he can understand it doesn't turn on and off.
Tell me about that neighborhood boy. I know you've referred to him before, but tell me about him.
I remember a group of kids would get up on that flat roof at the back of our yard and throw nuts or rocks or something at us. Didn't we lose our dog because he was defending us against them?
I just can't believe how incredibly bad our experience of living in that town was. I often wonder if 'bad' was attracted there. I have gone back through town 2 times and neither time stopped to get out and walk around. When the song, "The House that Built Me", was released I almost went back and asked to walk around, but resisted that impulse. I am not sure what I would find or feel going back there.
I am intrigued and frightened about the idea of looking for the neighbor girl. Maybe I will reactivate Facebook just long enough to search her name...but then what/
More tomorrow,
Blessings,
Maggie
Draining pus
You said you hoped we have touched some lives. I wonder how closely our lives, our families parallel others. I think we have a typical story, even though we have both spent so much time being isolated and afraid.
So lose control and rage. I think I am still there - needing that release. I have cried a lot, but I haven't really raged at the Fates or at Mom and Dad or at the system that rapes us into submission.
I would say your son is a a little out of control right now, especially emotionally. Now is the time for you to be in control. He needs you, even though he hates you. It took my oldest about a dozen years to thank me for being a little overprotective when she was younger. She said she didn't understand then, but as an adult - she got it.
And he hates you because you are the safest place he has in his life. You are the place he can puke up all the anger he has inside. He hates you because he knows he will be loved unconditionally, and accepted, no matter what he does or says. That boy trusts you. I learned this from my toddlers. I always wondered why when I went away and left them with someone - I'd come home and get reports of their perfect behavior. When I arrived, they fell apart. It was because I was there to love and accept them. That never stops. You are safety. You are Mom.
I see myself in your description of yourself. I was afraid of the dark, sort of afraid of being alone, but actually preferring it. I would read entire books every night - reading until I was so exhausted I had to sleep. I didn't leave my kids with anyone either. I was afraid - it was an unknown, sort of vaporous fear. I understand it now, but then, I just said I was practicing attachment parenting. My children are wonderful about leaving their kids with me. And I love being able to take them, and have them for overnights. I know I have broken that link. I am able to be available for my kids, and to be welcome - not a source of worry or fear.
I am not afraid of the dark any more. I don't mind it at all. I have enjoyed walking outside in the dark. But I recently found a cougar print in the woods. Not I am not so sure, not so safe. I found it when I was looking for some herbs with my grandson. I couldn't tell how fresh it was - it was a deep, running track right on top of a deer track. Being with a 3 year old made me feel vulnerable, so we came home as fast as short, little 3-year old legs could move.
If the abuser lived near the racetrack, he was not the one I feared - who I actually found on line one day. I wondered what would happen if I contacted him and told him how much he damaged our family. I know there was something weird going on in his home. When Mom was president of the PTA, there was a proposal to teach Sex Ed in the elementary school. His parents freaked out. They were loud and insistent that the school had no right to talk about sex...obviously, they had a problem.
It is weird how thoughts of this town, this town more than anywhere else I have been, makes me feel uneasy, almost frightened...a little chilled. I don't think contacting the neighbor girl would be a bad idea. It might help heal her too. I know her older half-brother sexually abused her and her younger brother. That "training" is what made her ripe for abuse at the hands of the neighborhood boys.
I could beat up B#1 until I was about 11. I think that is why I escaped. That, and I was hiding in my room with a book!
More tomorrow...I love you and trust you and cherish you.
Clare
So lose control and rage. I think I am still there - needing that release. I have cried a lot, but I haven't really raged at the Fates or at Mom and Dad or at the system that rapes us into submission.
I would say your son is a a little out of control right now, especially emotionally. Now is the time for you to be in control. He needs you, even though he hates you. It took my oldest about a dozen years to thank me for being a little overprotective when she was younger. She said she didn't understand then, but as an adult - she got it.
And he hates you because you are the safest place he has in his life. You are the place he can puke up all the anger he has inside. He hates you because he knows he will be loved unconditionally, and accepted, no matter what he does or says. That boy trusts you. I learned this from my toddlers. I always wondered why when I went away and left them with someone - I'd come home and get reports of their perfect behavior. When I arrived, they fell apart. It was because I was there to love and accept them. That never stops. You are safety. You are Mom.
I see myself in your description of yourself. I was afraid of the dark, sort of afraid of being alone, but actually preferring it. I would read entire books every night - reading until I was so exhausted I had to sleep. I didn't leave my kids with anyone either. I was afraid - it was an unknown, sort of vaporous fear. I understand it now, but then, I just said I was practicing attachment parenting. My children are wonderful about leaving their kids with me. And I love being able to take them, and have them for overnights. I know I have broken that link. I am able to be available for my kids, and to be welcome - not a source of worry or fear.
I am not afraid of the dark any more. I don't mind it at all. I have enjoyed walking outside in the dark. But I recently found a cougar print in the woods. Not I am not so sure, not so safe. I found it when I was looking for some herbs with my grandson. I couldn't tell how fresh it was - it was a deep, running track right on top of a deer track. Being with a 3 year old made me feel vulnerable, so we came home as fast as short, little 3-year old legs could move.
If the abuser lived near the racetrack, he was not the one I feared - who I actually found on line one day. I wondered what would happen if I contacted him and told him how much he damaged our family. I know there was something weird going on in his home. When Mom was president of the PTA, there was a proposal to teach Sex Ed in the elementary school. His parents freaked out. They were loud and insistent that the school had no right to talk about sex...obviously, they had a problem.
It is weird how thoughts of this town, this town more than anywhere else I have been, makes me feel uneasy, almost frightened...a little chilled. I don't think contacting the neighbor girl would be a bad idea. It might help heal her too. I know her older half-brother sexually abused her and her younger brother. That "training" is what made her ripe for abuse at the hands of the neighborhood boys.
I could beat up B#1 until I was about 11. I think that is why I escaped. That, and I was hiding in my room with a book!
More tomorrow...I love you and trust you and cherish you.
Clare
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Hypervigilance
Did you notice...we broke 10,000 reads...hopefully we have touched some lives with this dialogue.
Where did that kid live? I can't remember the name, but it was a house towards the race track if I am remembering correctly. I am creeped out by the phone messages...that scares the shit out of me.
I feel as if I am losing control at this point...
not in a bad way...
like a loosening of my ties and tethers which may allow me to move forward.
I am sensing dangerous behaviors in my son and it is making me take a really long, close look at my need to control. I know that my overwhelming desire to protect my babies has made their lives slightly challenging...but I'd rather apologize for being protective than grieve because they are addicted or abused. I have been having daily dialogue with son#1 about his actions...he wants me to care less and I keep telling him that I am not capable of caring less for him. He is suffering from something and can't say what it is. We are joining a group to hopefully allow us to get to the root of the problem. He is mad as hell at me...and part of me wants to just please him and say never-mind...but ignoring problems definitely doesn't work...we have incredible proof of that truth.
I spent most of my life in hypervigilance mode. I used to be awake all night when I was on call because I was supposed to sleep in the call quarters which did not provide a lot of protection...it was also in the basement of the hospital and basements have always creeped me out. I didn't sleep soundly when the kids were young, I was afraid that something would harm them. When they cried I always made sure that husband was asleep in our bed...I trust no one with my precious babies (to this day). I took all of the night feedings/wake ups because I didn't trust any man with a baby...let alone my baby. I couldn't use a babysitter because I was afraid what they would do to my children...I think I had 2 or 3 dates in 6 or 7 years. I am still afraid of the dark...and sleep with a night light on beside my bed. I have to be covered with at least a sheet in my home and with blankets when I am anywhere else to protect me. I have to tell myself not to jump to conclusions when something upsets my kids...don't assume someone abused them...but my mind always "goes there".
I hope that my kids grow with a sense of security and not my neurosis. I have explained to all but the youngest the reasons for my overprotectiveness...and hope that they can separate their experience from my worry.
One of the suggestions from the book is to try to contact one or more people from your past who can tell you their observations of your childhood. It is supposed to be someone outside of your immediate family or group involved. I have been considering that and keep coming back to the neighbor girl who lived on the other side of the cemetery from us. I wonder if I could find her and if she would be willing to share her memories. Is that crazy?
Thanks and blessings,
Maggie
Where did that kid live? I can't remember the name, but it was a house towards the race track if I am remembering correctly. I am creeped out by the phone messages...that scares the shit out of me.
I feel as if I am losing control at this point...
not in a bad way...
like a loosening of my ties and tethers which may allow me to move forward.
I am sensing dangerous behaviors in my son and it is making me take a really long, close look at my need to control. I know that my overwhelming desire to protect my babies has made their lives slightly challenging...but I'd rather apologize for being protective than grieve because they are addicted or abused. I have been having daily dialogue with son#1 about his actions...he wants me to care less and I keep telling him that I am not capable of caring less for him. He is suffering from something and can't say what it is. We are joining a group to hopefully allow us to get to the root of the problem. He is mad as hell at me...and part of me wants to just please him and say never-mind...but ignoring problems definitely doesn't work...we have incredible proof of that truth.
I spent most of my life in hypervigilance mode. I used to be awake all night when I was on call because I was supposed to sleep in the call quarters which did not provide a lot of protection...it was also in the basement of the hospital and basements have always creeped me out. I didn't sleep soundly when the kids were young, I was afraid that something would harm them. When they cried I always made sure that husband was asleep in our bed...I trust no one with my precious babies (to this day). I took all of the night feedings/wake ups because I didn't trust any man with a baby...let alone my baby. I couldn't use a babysitter because I was afraid what they would do to my children...I think I had 2 or 3 dates in 6 or 7 years. I am still afraid of the dark...and sleep with a night light on beside my bed. I have to be covered with at least a sheet in my home and with blankets when I am anywhere else to protect me. I have to tell myself not to jump to conclusions when something upsets my kids...don't assume someone abused them...but my mind always "goes there".
I hope that my kids grow with a sense of security and not my neurosis. I have explained to all but the youngest the reasons for my overprotectiveness...and hope that they can separate their experience from my worry.
One of the suggestions from the book is to try to contact one or more people from your past who can tell you their observations of your childhood. It is supposed to be someone outside of your immediate family or group involved. I have been considering that and keep coming back to the neighbor girl who lived on the other side of the cemetery from us. I wonder if I could find her and if she would be willing to share her memories. Is that crazy?
Thanks and blessings,
Maggie
Loopy
I said Maybe Mom. She valued us. She was too overwhelmed to give us what we needed, but I think she had moments of seeing us. And maybe all we need is a moment - to survive. If someone sees us, it reminds us that we are real. I know we need so much more to thrive - and neither of us is thriving!
I have some different feelings about the rape. I didn't value myself. I put myself in dangerous situations - maybe I was testing fate. But I also had another thought, I'm not sure if I have said this before...but I remember thinking that perhaps I didn't protect myself, I risked my safety because in our family it was bully or victim. I think I was joining your side. Strange. I know. I have moments when I doubt my sanity!
Forgiving self for not protecting self. Yet we were never taught to protect ourselves...I am going in circles.
In a way being raped loops back to my money issues. It all has to do with not valuing myself, not protecting myself. I don't think I am worth it. Tears are forming...I'm hitting a truth. I am not worth protecting, I am not worth rewarding, I am not worth being able to relax and enjoy my life...Oh....my money issues are one of my forms of hypervigilance. Shit!!!!! I am always waiting for something bad to happen, and since it does, I can never relax. Instead of the scary thing in the dark, I have fear of looming electric shut-offs and being homeless. Damn me! I have a huge knot in my throat. I want to throw up!
In thinking about ongoing sexual abuse, it seems that the first time is a shock - totally unexpected. But then you are dirty. You already did it. You are already bad. You are going to get blamed for the game, too. Plus we are taught obedience from an early age. And in our family, we were taught about sin. The first time you were abused, your soul was dirty. It was your fault, your sin. I keep going back to - "bad!" So who cares if it happens again. Does that make any sense?
Which neighborhood boy did they make you marry. There was one older kid who used to scare me. I had to walk home past his house in the dark when I came home from Girl Scout meetings, and I was always terrified. I told Mom, and she acknowledged my fear. But it was still okay for me to walk home in the dark - no protection, no sense of learning to protect myself...I remember one night Mom had taken a few kids to church and I was home watching the rest. Someone kept calling and asking for me and telling me I should come out on the porch, I would get a big surprise. I was fairly certain it was this particular kid. I called the neighbor, who complained about the rotten kids on our street. I finally told him to stop calling or I would call the police. By serendipity, Mom's car broke down, and the police brought her home. It probably seemed as though I did call the police, and the calls never happened again. Even now, I get the heebie-jeebies thinking about that kid and our neighborhood. And I still wonder how such a sexually abusive culture developed on our street - unless it happens everywhere...
I guess we're in a pus-filled period again! Let it flow. We're both ready for another cleanse!!!!!
I know you love me...and I love you back!!
Clare
I have some different feelings about the rape. I didn't value myself. I put myself in dangerous situations - maybe I was testing fate. But I also had another thought, I'm not sure if I have said this before...but I remember thinking that perhaps I didn't protect myself, I risked my safety because in our family it was bully or victim. I think I was joining your side. Strange. I know. I have moments when I doubt my sanity!
Forgiving self for not protecting self. Yet we were never taught to protect ourselves...I am going in circles.
In a way being raped loops back to my money issues. It all has to do with not valuing myself, not protecting myself. I don't think I am worth it. Tears are forming...I'm hitting a truth. I am not worth protecting, I am not worth rewarding, I am not worth being able to relax and enjoy my life...Oh....my money issues are one of my forms of hypervigilance. Shit!!!!! I am always waiting for something bad to happen, and since it does, I can never relax. Instead of the scary thing in the dark, I have fear of looming electric shut-offs and being homeless. Damn me! I have a huge knot in my throat. I want to throw up!
In thinking about ongoing sexual abuse, it seems that the first time is a shock - totally unexpected. But then you are dirty. You already did it. You are already bad. You are going to get blamed for the game, too. Plus we are taught obedience from an early age. And in our family, we were taught about sin. The first time you were abused, your soul was dirty. It was your fault, your sin. I keep going back to - "bad!" So who cares if it happens again. Does that make any sense?
Which neighborhood boy did they make you marry. There was one older kid who used to scare me. I had to walk home past his house in the dark when I came home from Girl Scout meetings, and I was always terrified. I told Mom, and she acknowledged my fear. But it was still okay for me to walk home in the dark - no protection, no sense of learning to protect myself...I remember one night Mom had taken a few kids to church and I was home watching the rest. Someone kept calling and asking for me and telling me I should come out on the porch, I would get a big surprise. I was fairly certain it was this particular kid. I called the neighbor, who complained about the rotten kids on our street. I finally told him to stop calling or I would call the police. By serendipity, Mom's car broke down, and the police brought her home. It probably seemed as though I did call the police, and the calls never happened again. Even now, I get the heebie-jeebies thinking about that kid and our neighborhood. And I still wonder how such a sexually abusive culture developed on our street - unless it happens everywhere...
I guess we're in a pus-filled period again! Let it flow. We're both ready for another cleanse!!!!!
I know you love me...and I love you back!!
Clare
Monday, July 22, 2013
My Power and Control
Many questions/thoughts to address...
First, the concept of forgiving myself is valid and was a necessary step to healing.
I don't think it applies to forced, one time rape...
but my abuse spanned at least 7 years and I did keep putting myself back into the situation where I understood it was a possibility. I never wanted to be molested, raped, objectified...but I was sent out to play with a neighborhood full of violence and disrespect.
The boys would tackle the neighbor girl, rip her shirt up/open and beat her breasts...
"titty whackers"...
they arranged games (7 minutes in heaven and spin the bottle are 2 I remember) and I stayed put...
they arranged a wedding to a neighborhood boy and I was the bride...only to be told that I had to go into a tent or enclosure with him afterward because "it" was "OK after you are married"...I remember going in with great fear...and remember nothing else.
For some reason I continued despite the intense hatred and fear that I had for the games...
I was more afraid of not being included...
and I don't think we were really wanted around the house unless it was dinner time or dark.
The book (Miss America by Day) told part of the story of the survivor's sister who was also incested as a child by the father...she had a very different outcome because she told her father what she thought of him while he was touching her...she took the power from him...and used it to her advantage...she never welcomed the abuse but she never pretended to be asleep or dissociated as the author did so her recovery did not involve unburying the memories.
I feel as if the night that I said "enough...stop it or I'll tell" was huge...I was able to take my power back...I was able to retain some of the memories unlike our other siblings...
I think the answer lies in where the power rests...because as you have said before rape and abuse are all about power and control.
I am grateful for that night and I am grateful that our B#1 admitted to his part in it...even if he did blame it on drugs and alcohol...a physiologic impossibility because alcohol is a depressant which makes it difficult to achieve an erection. He remembers it skewed to save himself the pain.
As for the memories and how to protect children I am all for transparency...let's open up the bags and spew forth the garbage...it's like lancing a boil...you can't expect to heal unless you remove the nidus of it which is generally buried underneath a collection of purulent material causing pain, swelling, deformity, loss of ability, and systemic disease if it goes on long enough. The problem we are faced with is that you and I are the only ones with the strength to go this route and so we travel together, alone. It doesn't mean that we can't fully heal...it will just take a little longer. For my own health and well being I have created boundaries to protect my healing self from any further damage that could be done by this family of origin. I can engage and interact...but not be vulnerable to them...not allow them the opportunity to cut me to the quick again...I have taken back my power and control.
When you told me that Mom was there to rock me and nurture me I don't feel that is true.
I don't feel the connection...Mom told me that I would eat best when Dad fed me...I am not sure how that plays into all of this but it is sticking in my mind. I think Mom was overwhelmed and too busy...maybe I was laid on a couch with a propped bottle to feed us and laid into my crib to cry it out.
I just don't know why I fail to feel that connection...but I do.
I love you...I feel as if I am spewing pus this week...I am just in need of a little relief...and this beats yelling at my kids for something they have no part in.
Love and Light,
Maggie
First, the concept of forgiving myself is valid and was a necessary step to healing.
I don't think it applies to forced, one time rape...
but my abuse spanned at least 7 years and I did keep putting myself back into the situation where I understood it was a possibility. I never wanted to be molested, raped, objectified...but I was sent out to play with a neighborhood full of violence and disrespect.
The boys would tackle the neighbor girl, rip her shirt up/open and beat her breasts...
"titty whackers"...
they arranged games (7 minutes in heaven and spin the bottle are 2 I remember) and I stayed put...
they arranged a wedding to a neighborhood boy and I was the bride...only to be told that I had to go into a tent or enclosure with him afterward because "it" was "OK after you are married"...I remember going in with great fear...and remember nothing else.
For some reason I continued despite the intense hatred and fear that I had for the games...
I was more afraid of not being included...
and I don't think we were really wanted around the house unless it was dinner time or dark.
The book (Miss America by Day) told part of the story of the survivor's sister who was also incested as a child by the father...she had a very different outcome because she told her father what she thought of him while he was touching her...she took the power from him...and used it to her advantage...she never welcomed the abuse but she never pretended to be asleep or dissociated as the author did so her recovery did not involve unburying the memories.
I feel as if the night that I said "enough...stop it or I'll tell" was huge...I was able to take my power back...I was able to retain some of the memories unlike our other siblings...
I think the answer lies in where the power rests...because as you have said before rape and abuse are all about power and control.
I am grateful for that night and I am grateful that our B#1 admitted to his part in it...even if he did blame it on drugs and alcohol...a physiologic impossibility because alcohol is a depressant which makes it difficult to achieve an erection. He remembers it skewed to save himself the pain.
As for the memories and how to protect children I am all for transparency...let's open up the bags and spew forth the garbage...it's like lancing a boil...you can't expect to heal unless you remove the nidus of it which is generally buried underneath a collection of purulent material causing pain, swelling, deformity, loss of ability, and systemic disease if it goes on long enough. The problem we are faced with is that you and I are the only ones with the strength to go this route and so we travel together, alone. It doesn't mean that we can't fully heal...it will just take a little longer. For my own health and well being I have created boundaries to protect my healing self from any further damage that could be done by this family of origin. I can engage and interact...but not be vulnerable to them...not allow them the opportunity to cut me to the quick again...I have taken back my power and control.
When you told me that Mom was there to rock me and nurture me I don't feel that is true.
I don't feel the connection...Mom told me that I would eat best when Dad fed me...I am not sure how that plays into all of this but it is sticking in my mind. I think Mom was overwhelmed and too busy...maybe I was laid on a couch with a propped bottle to feed us and laid into my crib to cry it out.
I just don't know why I fail to feel that connection...but I do.
I love you...I feel as if I am spewing pus this week...I am just in need of a little relief...and this beats yelling at my kids for something they have no part in.
Love and Light,
Maggie
Angry day...
I've been thinking about your comments about the book you are reading. I have been wondering why some people who have been abused stand up and shine and overachieve, and others hide.
I think I mentioned this before, but for years I did a very unofficial survey of my daughter's friends. All of the overweight, struggling kids had been abused - many sexually, but also physically and emotionally. They all opted to hide, to become invisible.
Some of us learn that we are trash, to be used and discarded. Some of us decide we are not trash and to show 'em all and become more. It seems that both ways involve disowning a part of self. And I can't decide which way is healthier - as if there were a healthier in this kind of a situation.
Just started reading the Joyce Carol Oates I pulled from your backseat library. The story seems to focus on the rape of a nice girl, as opposed to a dirty girl who the football team believes deserves it. I am emotionally involved, and a little anxious and nauseous. A good book can do this for us!!
You say you kept putting yourself in the same position for the molestation to be repeated. What happens when you say No! to a rapist? The violence increases. All of the rape advice tells us it is better to survive, even if it means - not exactly cooperating, but not resisting. I'm not sure. A few years after I had been raped, I was walking home alone in the dark. I got that eerie feeling that someone was stalking me...that feeling that makes your hair stand up and your hearing ability magnify. I remember thinking, "If someone wants to rape me, they are going to have to kill me. I am not going through that again." A few deaths of "good girls", if women showed we would rather die than be attacked and assaulted, that we preferred death - attitudes would change. Maybe. Or more news would be hidden - not valuable, not interesting.
I get so angry. One man said if rape were inevitable, we should relax and enjoy it. My thought was violent, involved an assault on him wondering how long it would take him to relax and enjoy.
I really lost it when I read about a judge at a rape trial. He told the lawyer to approach the bench. He gave the lawyer a pencil. Then the judge proceeded to move a Coke bottle back and forth and told the lawyer to put the pencil in the bottle. The lawyer could not do it, thereby proving that rape was impossible. I almost stopped breathing when I read that. I wished I had been in that courtroom, and had the courage to raise my hand and point out that the judge missed something. First, we take the Coke bottle and slam it down on the bench. Hard. Possibly cracking it, or maybe shattering it. Then we jam the pencil in easily.
And the other way of protecting self is to go ask for help. In our home, who could you have possibly asked? No one would have listened. Kids just play doctor sometimes, you know? And sex was such an uncomfortable topic, that you would have been shushed immediately.
Rereading your last post, thinking about protecting others, protecting kids. Two thoughts came to mind, two ways of protecting children - our family way of never talking about certain subjects - they simply don't exist for children. There is no sex,. there is no violence, everything is fine! Or transparency - letting the garbage fall out of the closets, the psyches, and be there for all to see. Can you imagine all the pain and shit and silent screams and shock and blood and gore that would come out of our family closet? Which of us would tip-toe over it? Which of us would talk about it, acknowledge it? Which of us would roll up our sleeves and clean the damned mess up?
I come back to our siblings' comment of - Don't take our childhood memories away from us. Basically, we don't care if you are in pain, as long as we are not...
Not off to a good day here, but in the long run, this work is good...
I love you, many, many hugs...
Clare
I think I mentioned this before, but for years I did a very unofficial survey of my daughter's friends. All of the overweight, struggling kids had been abused - many sexually, but also physically and emotionally. They all opted to hide, to become invisible.
Some of us learn that we are trash, to be used and discarded. Some of us decide we are not trash and to show 'em all and become more. It seems that both ways involve disowning a part of self. And I can't decide which way is healthier - as if there were a healthier in this kind of a situation.
Just started reading the Joyce Carol Oates I pulled from your backseat library. The story seems to focus on the rape of a nice girl, as opposed to a dirty girl who the football team believes deserves it. I am emotionally involved, and a little anxious and nauseous. A good book can do this for us!!
You say you kept putting yourself in the same position for the molestation to be repeated. What happens when you say No! to a rapist? The violence increases. All of the rape advice tells us it is better to survive, even if it means - not exactly cooperating, but not resisting. I'm not sure. A few years after I had been raped, I was walking home alone in the dark. I got that eerie feeling that someone was stalking me...that feeling that makes your hair stand up and your hearing ability magnify. I remember thinking, "If someone wants to rape me, they are going to have to kill me. I am not going through that again." A few deaths of "good girls", if women showed we would rather die than be attacked and assaulted, that we preferred death - attitudes would change. Maybe. Or more news would be hidden - not valuable, not interesting.
I get so angry. One man said if rape were inevitable, we should relax and enjoy it. My thought was violent, involved an assault on him wondering how long it would take him to relax and enjoy.
I really lost it when I read about a judge at a rape trial. He told the lawyer to approach the bench. He gave the lawyer a pencil. Then the judge proceeded to move a Coke bottle back and forth and told the lawyer to put the pencil in the bottle. The lawyer could not do it, thereby proving that rape was impossible. I almost stopped breathing when I read that. I wished I had been in that courtroom, and had the courage to raise my hand and point out that the judge missed something. First, we take the Coke bottle and slam it down on the bench. Hard. Possibly cracking it, or maybe shattering it. Then we jam the pencil in easily.
And the other way of protecting self is to go ask for help. In our home, who could you have possibly asked? No one would have listened. Kids just play doctor sometimes, you know? And sex was such an uncomfortable topic, that you would have been shushed immediately.
Rereading your last post, thinking about protecting others, protecting kids. Two thoughts came to mind, two ways of protecting children - our family way of never talking about certain subjects - they simply don't exist for children. There is no sex,. there is no violence, everything is fine! Or transparency - letting the garbage fall out of the closets, the psyches, and be there for all to see. Can you imagine all the pain and shit and silent screams and shock and blood and gore that would come out of our family closet? Which of us would tip-toe over it? Which of us would talk about it, acknowledge it? Which of us would roll up our sleeves and clean the damned mess up?
I come back to our siblings' comment of - Don't take our childhood memories away from us. Basically, we don't care if you are in pain, as long as we are not...
Not off to a good day here, but in the long run, this work is good...
I love you, many, many hugs...
Clare
Sunday, July 21, 2013
A swirl of emotions
Money is also about power and privilege...
using power to influence others is not something survivors do readily...
we remain silent, isolated, ashamed, and hopefully invisible.
I am still reading this book, Miss America by Day...and I am having trouble putting it down to deal with my everyday responsibilities.
I really need to finish it so that I can digest it and learn the lessons.
I sit here reading, quietly crying to myself...
for my own self and for the survivors whose stories she shares.
About the shame and silence...
about not being believed and our motives for disclosure questioned when we finally do have the courage to speak the words...
About our families wanting to keep it all private...
and being told how selfish I am to share a story for my own peace of mind when it brings heartbreak to the rest of the family.
About how most survivors despise the parent who didn't protect them...which causes much conflict.
The author talks about the "day child"...the visible one who was perfect and became Miss America.
She also talks about the "night child"...the part of her who remained present for the abuse, promised that once it was over the day child would come back to heal her...
the day child despised the night child...for many reasons she refused to re-integrate the night child and had many physical symptoms until she was finally forced to forgive herself for that abandonment of her night child.
I had never heard of anyone else who had imprisoned a portion of themselves deep within and then refused to go back...
that's what I had done...we had done...
that's what is buried behind that wall surrounding my heart...
we both know that, we've figured that out months ago...
I never heard others speak or write of that in this way.
I remember a very powerful moment with my wise friend who asked me to forgive myself because at some level I kept putting myself in the same situation...
I enjoyed the attention because we were starved for attention and being molested was at least being touched...
I felt my body revolt when she said that...
and yet it rang true...
I had to forgive myself for abandoning and judging the part of me that was present to the abuse...
I didn't have to forgive those who abused me...
and no one else could forgive my inner self...
this was my task and only I was capable of accomplishing it.
The author's story is different than mine...
but at the same time she speaks the pain and confusion that I have lived with...
asking all of the questions that I have asked myself and researched for many years.
She also does a large section on sibling abuse and how prevalent it is...
and how it is not just games and harmless...
how it changes a lifetime...which it has.
My life was never the same after that first 'game' in the woods...
hot dog in a bun...
sounds so harmless...and yet it forever altered my life.
I am overwhelmed by a swirl of emotions and confusion from this book.
I want to protect all children and vulnerable people from abuse.
I want to heal my own wounds.
This conversation has been working towards both of those purposes and I hope others can see that they are not alone.
There are millions of us...
running into each other everyday...
avoiding eye contact...
our perfect plastic faces...
if they can't see the shame they'll never know
Love and Light,
Maggie
using power to influence others is not something survivors do readily...
we remain silent, isolated, ashamed, and hopefully invisible.
I am still reading this book, Miss America by Day...and I am having trouble putting it down to deal with my everyday responsibilities.
I really need to finish it so that I can digest it and learn the lessons.
I sit here reading, quietly crying to myself...
for my own self and for the survivors whose stories she shares.
About the shame and silence...
about not being believed and our motives for disclosure questioned when we finally do have the courage to speak the words...
About our families wanting to keep it all private...
and being told how selfish I am to share a story for my own peace of mind when it brings heartbreak to the rest of the family.
About how most survivors despise the parent who didn't protect them...which causes much conflict.
The author talks about the "day child"...the visible one who was perfect and became Miss America.
She also talks about the "night child"...the part of her who remained present for the abuse, promised that once it was over the day child would come back to heal her...
the day child despised the night child...for many reasons she refused to re-integrate the night child and had many physical symptoms until she was finally forced to forgive herself for that abandonment of her night child.
I had never heard of anyone else who had imprisoned a portion of themselves deep within and then refused to go back...
that's what I had done...we had done...
that's what is buried behind that wall surrounding my heart...
we both know that, we've figured that out months ago...
I never heard others speak or write of that in this way.
I remember a very powerful moment with my wise friend who asked me to forgive myself because at some level I kept putting myself in the same situation...
I enjoyed the attention because we were starved for attention and being molested was at least being touched...
I felt my body revolt when she said that...
and yet it rang true...
I had to forgive myself for abandoning and judging the part of me that was present to the abuse...
I didn't have to forgive those who abused me...
and no one else could forgive my inner self...
this was my task and only I was capable of accomplishing it.
The author's story is different than mine...
but at the same time she speaks the pain and confusion that I have lived with...
asking all of the questions that I have asked myself and researched for many years.
She also does a large section on sibling abuse and how prevalent it is...
and how it is not just games and harmless...
how it changes a lifetime...which it has.
My life was never the same after that first 'game' in the woods...
hot dog in a bun...
sounds so harmless...and yet it forever altered my life.
I am overwhelmed by a swirl of emotions and confusion from this book.
I want to protect all children and vulnerable people from abuse.
I want to heal my own wounds.
This conversation has been working towards both of those purposes and I hope others can see that they are not alone.
There are millions of us...
running into each other everyday...
avoiding eye contact...
our perfect plastic faces...
if they can't see the shame they'll never know
Love and Light,
Maggie
Saturday, July 20, 2013
$$$$$$
I think the boyfriend gold-digger comment also related to your earning potential.
I think the money issue relates to the value we put on ourselves; or that I put on myself. I asked myself once, why I was worth less than everyone else. Then the worth less - worthless combination slapped my awareness.
I was at our local festival yesterday, people watching and thinking about my life, what I want, what I expect. I suddenly had the thought that even if I had money, even if I lost weight - I would still be me. I would still be quiet, a little hard to approach. I would still think too much.
But I also think I could afford to take better care of myself...Maybe I do value myself somewhat just because I had the thought. Not enough to open way for abundance, though.
Why do I get off on worry, panic, dread? Do all of these emotions tie back to the helpless child enduring who knows what in the dark? Because I do lose sleep over this. Is this my form of over-vigilance? Of staying awake so nothing happens to me or anyone else in the house?
(This is all emerging as I type. I didn't know I thought this...)
When I went through the 12-Steps, which started this journey for me, I don't know how much I raged. I cried a lot, but it was all sorrow - for what happened to me, for what I did to others. I wonder how much rage is trapped inside me. Maybe my lack of rage is tied to my feelings of worthlessness. There seems to be a logical connection - I deserved it, sort of...
I need another source of income, but I'm not too worried about the time commitment yet, since no one has hired me yet!
You mentioned applying for a position. How is that going?
We're staying home today, as my daughter works, then later we'll have grandkids so their parents can dance until 2 am and not worry about anything. Back to the festival tomorrow. I think the baby could only take one day at a time, so this is good.
Love you,
Clare
I think the money issue relates to the value we put on ourselves; or that I put on myself. I asked myself once, why I was worth less than everyone else. Then the worth less - worthless combination slapped my awareness.
I was at our local festival yesterday, people watching and thinking about my life, what I want, what I expect. I suddenly had the thought that even if I had money, even if I lost weight - I would still be me. I would still be quiet, a little hard to approach. I would still think too much.
But I also think I could afford to take better care of myself...Maybe I do value myself somewhat just because I had the thought. Not enough to open way for abundance, though.
Why do I get off on worry, panic, dread? Do all of these emotions tie back to the helpless child enduring who knows what in the dark? Because I do lose sleep over this. Is this my form of over-vigilance? Of staying awake so nothing happens to me or anyone else in the house?
(This is all emerging as I type. I didn't know I thought this...)
When I went through the 12-Steps, which started this journey for me, I don't know how much I raged. I cried a lot, but it was all sorrow - for what happened to me, for what I did to others. I wonder how much rage is trapped inside me. Maybe my lack of rage is tied to my feelings of worthlessness. There seems to be a logical connection - I deserved it, sort of...
I need another source of income, but I'm not too worried about the time commitment yet, since no one has hired me yet!
You mentioned applying for a position. How is that going?
We're staying home today, as my daughter works, then later we'll have grandkids so their parents can dance until 2 am and not worry about anything. Back to the festival tomorrow. I think the baby could only take one day at a time, so this is good.
Love you,
Clare
Friday, July 19, 2013
Tied up and distracted
It is funny...
my first serious boyfriend (and his friends) accused me of gold-digging when I started dating a fellow medical student...
I don't remember Dad saying that of him...
and to what point?
The money question is very interesting.
I can see that by not having money you can legitimately excuse yourself from your dreams...
but they will continue to haunt you...
and lack of funds will be an excuse.
The second job would help...
be careful not to cover too many hours of the day as you already get up at a very early hour.
I have been reading a book, Miss America By Day...
it is an autobiography of a former Miss America whose father raped and molested her almost nightly from age 5 to 18. Her story is different, but the aftermath...the lifestyle choices...the feelings...the outward perfection and inner hatred are so similar to mine. She talks of the day girl- the perfect girl to the outside and the night girl- the one who is awful and unworthy of love...knowing only pain and terror. I haven't gotten to the part where she reintegrates the two sides of herself but she hints at the rage that was necessary to do that. It is fascinating, and sad, and enlightening and many other things simultaneously. I can't stop reading it, even though it brings back awful images. At the same time I can see how far I/we have come with the work that we are doing...
I have been tied up and distracted with teen-related issues...sorry.
I will check in tomorrow.
Blessings,
Maggie
my first serious boyfriend (and his friends) accused me of gold-digging when I started dating a fellow medical student...
I don't remember Dad saying that of him...
and to what point?
The money question is very interesting.
I can see that by not having money you can legitimately excuse yourself from your dreams...
but they will continue to haunt you...
and lack of funds will be an excuse.
The second job would help...
be careful not to cover too many hours of the day as you already get up at a very early hour.
I have been reading a book, Miss America By Day...
it is an autobiography of a former Miss America whose father raped and molested her almost nightly from age 5 to 18. Her story is different, but the aftermath...the lifestyle choices...the feelings...the outward perfection and inner hatred are so similar to mine. She talks of the day girl- the perfect girl to the outside and the night girl- the one who is awful and unworthy of love...knowing only pain and terror. I haven't gotten to the part where she reintegrates the two sides of herself but she hints at the rage that was necessary to do that. It is fascinating, and sad, and enlightening and many other things simultaneously. I can't stop reading it, even though it brings back awful images. At the same time I can see how far I/we have come with the work that we are doing...
I have been tied up and distracted with teen-related issues...sorry.
I will check in tomorrow.
Blessings,
Maggie
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Money Musing
I'm not sure what scares me. I am still sort of reeling from identifying terror with money.
I had a realization once that I thought that all people who had money, especially inherited money in those really, really traditionally wealthy families, were evil. I knew that they could only have accumulated that much wealth at the expense, the enslavement, of others. The Walton family currently offends me, and so I never set foot in a WalMart. I will not support their cruelty and greed. I have long seen the Bush family, and their cronies as evil.
Then I started to evolve. I started to see money as a tool. And that good, kind, generous people could use the tool to create equity and fairness and justice. Greedy, frightened people hoard, and see themselves as more important than others, and create the homelessness and hunger and inequality we see in every country today.
I also understand that money is not real. I thought about it for a long time. There have been cultures that have functioned without money. I know a woman who believes in the gifting society. I was so impressed. I joined her in her belief. If you have something that someone needs, give it to them. Have faith that when you need, it will be delivered to you.
I think in the beginning, people shared. People supported each other, mentored each other, mentored the younger generation. People did what their talent and passion led them to do. Somehow, someone compared and set a higher value on one product, creating competition. Suddenly one gift is more important, more valuable than another. Competition led to barter, to comparative value. Then pieces of gold or silver began to stand for the value. And it rushed to this day when we accept pieces of paper, or better yet, numbers in an account. We have been so well trained, we don't need anything but numbers on a screen. We will do anything for those numbers. We will kill for those numbers.
So the question is, in this culture when we believe so deeply that we need money to survive, why do I not value myself enough to let it flow to me?
I am applying for yet another part-time job. Wish me luck!
Please tell me who accused you of being a gold-digger. I snorted when I read that. Just too funny!!! Of course our beloved patriarch said the same thing about your first serious boyfriend. Of course Dad is usually a bit more judgmental than logical...
But terror...maybe it means I would have to do all of those wonderful things I have always wanted to do - to heal, to travel, to write, to set up a gentleman's farm- a few sheep, chickens, alpacas, maybe, and gardens...If I had money I might run out of excuses to hide out, and face the world...
Still thinking,
Still sending you love,
Clare
I had a realization once that I thought that all people who had money, especially inherited money in those really, really traditionally wealthy families, were evil. I knew that they could only have accumulated that much wealth at the expense, the enslavement, of others. The Walton family currently offends me, and so I never set foot in a WalMart. I will not support their cruelty and greed. I have long seen the Bush family, and their cronies as evil.
Then I started to evolve. I started to see money as a tool. And that good, kind, generous people could use the tool to create equity and fairness and justice. Greedy, frightened people hoard, and see themselves as more important than others, and create the homelessness and hunger and inequality we see in every country today.
I also understand that money is not real. I thought about it for a long time. There have been cultures that have functioned without money. I know a woman who believes in the gifting society. I was so impressed. I joined her in her belief. If you have something that someone needs, give it to them. Have faith that when you need, it will be delivered to you.
I think in the beginning, people shared. People supported each other, mentored each other, mentored the younger generation. People did what their talent and passion led them to do. Somehow, someone compared and set a higher value on one product, creating competition. Suddenly one gift is more important, more valuable than another. Competition led to barter, to comparative value. Then pieces of gold or silver began to stand for the value. And it rushed to this day when we accept pieces of paper, or better yet, numbers in an account. We have been so well trained, we don't need anything but numbers on a screen. We will do anything for those numbers. We will kill for those numbers.
So the question is, in this culture when we believe so deeply that we need money to survive, why do I not value myself enough to let it flow to me?
I am applying for yet another part-time job. Wish me luck!
Please tell me who accused you of being a gold-digger. I snorted when I read that. Just too funny!!! Of course our beloved patriarch said the same thing about your first serious boyfriend. Of course Dad is usually a bit more judgmental than logical...
But terror...maybe it means I would have to do all of those wonderful things I have always wanted to do - to heal, to travel, to write, to set up a gentleman's farm- a few sheep, chickens, alpacas, maybe, and gardens...If I had money I might run out of excuses to hide out, and face the world...
Still thinking,
Still sending you love,
Clare
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Many facets of money
Money represents so many things...some positive and some negative...most challenging.
Money...
power
privilege
corrupting
the root of all evil
the path to a life of ease
to be hoarded, making one selfish
to be shared, making one generous
can't buy happiness or health
talks
So what parts of that scares you?
Do you fear being limited by lack of money or by the opportunities that having money would allow?
You have lived frugally for years...you know that you can handle that.
Perhaps it is the thought of taking on a different role that terrifies you.
The thought of change terrifies most people.
Maybe it was all of those sermons about how difficult it is for the rich to go to heaven...remember the camel through the eye of the needle?
Maybe you are maintaining because it is comfortable....you don't particularly like the role that you are in...not having enough at times to do the things that you want to do.
Maybe this is why you were anxious about the gift of a house and felt some relief when the offer was retracted. It was unfair to withdraw a potential gift from you...but it did make you wonder about many aspects of the consequences and judgements of others if you had received it.
Maybe if you did make more money you would have to reassess priorities...
Maybe you had a past life in which you were wealthy and you suffered because of it.
I had this thought...I was accused of gold-digging when I married husband because he would make a good salary...those people failed to acknowledge that I too had similar earning potential...that we might both contribute to our household. People make assumptions about money and how it affects of us. And remember, we were raised to be people pleasers.
I am not making a lot of sense...sorry
Love and Light,
Maggie
Money...
power
privilege
corrupting
the root of all evil
the path to a life of ease
to be hoarded, making one selfish
to be shared, making one generous
can't buy happiness or health
talks
So what parts of that scares you?
Do you fear being limited by lack of money or by the opportunities that having money would allow?
You have lived frugally for years...you know that you can handle that.
Perhaps it is the thought of taking on a different role that terrifies you.
The thought of change terrifies most people.
Maybe it was all of those sermons about how difficult it is for the rich to go to heaven...remember the camel through the eye of the needle?
Maybe you are maintaining because it is comfortable....you don't particularly like the role that you are in...not having enough at times to do the things that you want to do.
Maybe this is why you were anxious about the gift of a house and felt some relief when the offer was retracted. It was unfair to withdraw a potential gift from you...but it did make you wonder about many aspects of the consequences and judgements of others if you had received it.
Maybe if you did make more money you would have to reassess priorities...
Maybe you had a past life in which you were wealthy and you suffered because of it.
I had this thought...I was accused of gold-digging when I married husband because he would make a good salary...those people failed to acknowledge that I too had similar earning potential...that we might both contribute to our household. People make assumptions about money and how it affects of us. And remember, we were raised to be people pleasers.
I am not making a lot of sense...sorry
Love and Light,
Maggie
Stairway to...?
Hey Maggie,
I'm back! Finished work early today, because it is festival week. I have been volunteering all week and I'm tired! The fest starts tomorrow.
I think I have mentioned having been involved in Reevalution Counseling. It is peer counseling, and mostly talk therapy. Amazing things happen when someone truly listens, when someone is truly present. With this technique, when the speaker hits on something important, there is a release. The person begins to laugh or cry, etc. I was with a women's group one night, and we decided to discuss sexuality. I spoke about rape, about my personal experience. Now, I think I have handled this, and can speak very rationally. And I was. I was calmly, logically describing the effects of being raped on my life. My voice was calm, I felt reasonable, but my body was shaking. I was shaking so much that it began to distract me. The person I was talking to briefly said it was a release, just keep talking. I did, but finally I stopped and asked what I was releasing. She said, "Terror."
Eye opening for me. I still have terror stored in my body.
But the other night I could not sleep. I am worried about my finances, which is common, but which is a little worse than usual because of the baby. I started to analyze myself and my pattern in a new and different way. I don't know if I will be able to make sense of it in the daylight, but I will try. Financially, I always think it's going to get easier. And so I make plans. I invite people to stay. I invite people for dinner. Then as the time gets near, I panic and really beat myself up for never getting it right, and I think I should never make plans again. I should just stay home and maintain. I was wondering why I don't value myself enough to make things better, although I keep applying for additional jobs, trying to find something more...But in the middle of the night, alone in the dark with my thoughts, I started to shake.
Now I wonder why I have terror stored in me in relation to money. I am really having a hard time understanding...
I started to drift to sleep and the alarm went off, which means a radio station come on - loud. I heard, "And she buying a stairway to heaven..." I woke up smiling. If I had been a little more awake, I would have woken up laughing. I think something divine scheduled that song for me. (Isn't it amazing how important I think I am?) Still not sure why though. I guess I should go look at the lyrics.
Why do I terrify myself? Or, why does money terrify me?
Thinking...and sending love,
Clare
I'm back! Finished work early today, because it is festival week. I have been volunteering all week and I'm tired! The fest starts tomorrow.
I think I have mentioned having been involved in Reevalution Counseling. It is peer counseling, and mostly talk therapy. Amazing things happen when someone truly listens, when someone is truly present. With this technique, when the speaker hits on something important, there is a release. The person begins to laugh or cry, etc. I was with a women's group one night, and we decided to discuss sexuality. I spoke about rape, about my personal experience. Now, I think I have handled this, and can speak very rationally. And I was. I was calmly, logically describing the effects of being raped on my life. My voice was calm, I felt reasonable, but my body was shaking. I was shaking so much that it began to distract me. The person I was talking to briefly said it was a release, just keep talking. I did, but finally I stopped and asked what I was releasing. She said, "Terror."
Eye opening for me. I still have terror stored in my body.
But the other night I could not sleep. I am worried about my finances, which is common, but which is a little worse than usual because of the baby. I started to analyze myself and my pattern in a new and different way. I don't know if I will be able to make sense of it in the daylight, but I will try. Financially, I always think it's going to get easier. And so I make plans. I invite people to stay. I invite people for dinner. Then as the time gets near, I panic and really beat myself up for never getting it right, and I think I should never make plans again. I should just stay home and maintain. I was wondering why I don't value myself enough to make things better, although I keep applying for additional jobs, trying to find something more...But in the middle of the night, alone in the dark with my thoughts, I started to shake.
Now I wonder why I have terror stored in me in relation to money. I am really having a hard time understanding...
I started to drift to sleep and the alarm went off, which means a radio station come on - loud. I heard, "And she buying a stairway to heaven..." I woke up smiling. If I had been a little more awake, I would have woken up laughing. I think something divine scheduled that song for me. (Isn't it amazing how important I think I am?) Still not sure why though. I guess I should go look at the lyrics.
Why do I terrify myself? Or, why does money terrify me?
Thinking...and sending love,
Clare
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
'membering
When I got home, I was simply tired. But I noticed I am eating without tasting. That's a bad sign. I'm blocking my feelings, numbing myself.
I was thinking about your accounts, and yes I remember similar incidences all through our childhood. I suddenly had this impression of Dad as a spoiled child. We all have to do what he wants to do, but he really doesn't know what he wants to do. I can only remember him and Mom having one fight. It was when I was in high school, and a guy he knew at the bar wanted to sell Dad his used stereo, and Dad wanted to buy it. He told Mom and she pointed out that we could not afford it. He stormed out, like a child who had been told "No!" He did buy it and it never really worked, so it was a waste of money. I don't know why I remember that, and why it has always been so symbolic of our life/their marriage to me.
I had an experience that i wanted to explore a little...But my daughter just pulled in the driveway with speakers blaring, so I think I'll get to it tomorrow...more time to think!!
Love you,
Clare
I was thinking about your accounts, and yes I remember similar incidences all through our childhood. I suddenly had this impression of Dad as a spoiled child. We all have to do what he wants to do, but he really doesn't know what he wants to do. I can only remember him and Mom having one fight. It was when I was in high school, and a guy he knew at the bar wanted to sell Dad his used stereo, and Dad wanted to buy it. He told Mom and she pointed out that we could not afford it. He stormed out, like a child who had been told "No!" He did buy it and it never really worked, so it was a waste of money. I don't know why I remember that, and why it has always been so symbolic of our life/their marriage to me.
I had an experience that i wanted to explore a little...But my daughter just pulled in the driveway with speakers blaring, so I think I'll get to it tomorrow...more time to think!!
Love you,
Clare
Monday, July 15, 2013
reminiscing
Wow...that sucks.
I do have many memories of being disappointed as a child...broken promises...changed plans...and then blaming the changes on something or someone else.
The first story (or two) that popped into my head when I read your post was the summer before 9th grade...Dad announced that we were moving to their county of origin...Well, being the overachiever that I was, I was supposed to be the editor of the school newspaper and the yearbook...along with holding offices of several other clubs at school...I had to contact all of those advisers and tell them that I would not be attending the upcoming school year and that they should choose others.
Long story short...he changed his mind.
Well the summer before my senior year he did the same thing...announced we were moving... this time we did move...and I once again gave up many opportunities at my previous school...when I finally gathered the nerve to ask Mom why did they do this right before my senior year she told me that I was the toughest and could make the transition better than the others.
So I have been quite irritable since I came back Saturday night...
I was meditating on the feelings this morning and came up with the word "disconnect"...
I felt disconnected with myself, my kids and my family of origin.
It was a very empty feeling...I guess the irritability was to fill me up with something.
I made myself go to yoga...
I was feeling less than motivated...
and the instructor asked us to do as much of the class as we could with our eyes closed...
to connect with our breathing and inner experience...
it was SO what I needed at that moment.
I left there calmer and more in touch with myself.
My son tested my patience and parenting last night ...
when he came home this afternoon I was able to be calm and just sit with him, calmly inviting him to talk...he is on an emotional roller coaster and I am just trying to maintain stability for him.
Serendipity is good!
I am beat...5 baseball games in 5 days...one more to go!
Son#2's team has qualified for the State Teener Jr. Baseball tournament, that will be next week.
Love and Light,
Maggie
I do have many memories of being disappointed as a child...broken promises...changed plans...and then blaming the changes on something or someone else.
The first story (or two) that popped into my head when I read your post was the summer before 9th grade...Dad announced that we were moving to their county of origin...Well, being the overachiever that I was, I was supposed to be the editor of the school newspaper and the yearbook...along with holding offices of several other clubs at school...I had to contact all of those advisers and tell them that I would not be attending the upcoming school year and that they should choose others.
Long story short...he changed his mind.
Well the summer before my senior year he did the same thing...announced we were moving... this time we did move...and I once again gave up many opportunities at my previous school...when I finally gathered the nerve to ask Mom why did they do this right before my senior year she told me that I was the toughest and could make the transition better than the others.
So I have been quite irritable since I came back Saturday night...
I was meditating on the feelings this morning and came up with the word "disconnect"...
I felt disconnected with myself, my kids and my family of origin.
It was a very empty feeling...I guess the irritability was to fill me up with something.
I made myself go to yoga...
I was feeling less than motivated...
and the instructor asked us to do as much of the class as we could with our eyes closed...
to connect with our breathing and inner experience...
it was SO what I needed at that moment.
I left there calmer and more in touch with myself.
My son tested my patience and parenting last night ...
when he came home this afternoon I was able to be calm and just sit with him, calmly inviting him to talk...he is on an emotional roller coaster and I am just trying to maintain stability for him.
Serendipity is good!
I am beat...5 baseball games in 5 days...one more to go!
Son#2's team has qualified for the State Teener Jr. Baseball tournament, that will be next week.
Love and Light,
Maggie
We Did It - We Survived!
Lots of thoughts. I didn't feel as much on the outside, because I feel the connection to you and S#3, and because I had two of my children and their families. That really helps. I liked the way your daughter stood guard for you! The other gift in my life was my best friend from college. We stayed with her on Saturday night, and so we were relaxed and at home. Her presence, her intelligence, her down-to-Earth, practical view of life has kept me grounded since we were 18. My kids see her as another aunt, and her kids as cousins. They have a historical connection, actually stronger than family.
Since we stayed overnight, we were invited to come and take things from the house. Because my grandchildren were fried, my friend and I got them settled in her house, then went back to Mom and Dad's. Everyone was there. I was overwhelmed again. I thought there would be a little quiet time. People were organizing and packing food, looking at stuff in the house, talking, watching something on the internet that Mom pulled up. Typical chaos. Mom handed me the list and there were names all over it. I was sort of stunned, and she said, "Didn't you know we were moving? Doesn't anyone read my Sunday evening emails?" I said I read them, and she mentioned thinking about going further south because of the winters. She told me that S#5 took over and found an apartment near her home, next to a church, across the street from the library, in a quiet neighborhood. They are going to look at it this week.
I just put the list down and wandered through the chaos.
At one quiet moment Dad said he was surprised by how enthusiastic mom was about moving. He was shocked by how fast she was getting rid of their stuff.
People started drifting out. I will admit that as I watched one brother taking things off the wall and moving them to the car, I had this selfish impulse of "I'll take that! Mine!" But I started laughing at myself and relaxed. It's funny to see that sibling rivalry lives forever. I mentioned my impulse to my friend later, and she said he would have given it to me. I knew that. I was more interested in my emotional response than the item.
I told Mom that I would like to take one thing for each of my children - something that would remind them of their grandparent's home. She kept offering stuff. I took some things. She said they'll have more as they prepare to actually move. Think very carefully about what you want. It is available if you want something. Mostly sibs were being practical. We have a niece who is trying to set up her own household. A lot of the furniture will go there. That is practical.
There was another layer going on at the same time. I don't think anyone knew but me and my children, but I'm going to spill. The week before the birthday party Mom sent me and email telling me that she and Dad would like to give me the house if I wanted it. I will say that I was very confused. I was wondering why and what strings would be attached. I wondered what I would do with it, because my absolute first thought was that I would not live far away from my grandchildren and my children - in that order! I want to be important to my grandchildren, and I want to be welcoming and supportive for my children in a way I have never known.
So, at the party I heard Mom tell someone, oh yeah - we sold the house. And Dad told my son, "We were going to give the house to your family, but we sold it in 3 days. Easiest sale I've ever had!" No one told me the offer was off, but I was relieved. My dilemma was over. And the money will be useful for them as they get settled somewhere new.
But I flashed back to our childhood. I don't know if you have the same strong sense as I do, but it seems Dad frequently told us we were going to do something or that something was going to happen. Then he changed his mind, it didn't happen and he would be furious with us for expecting it. I was repeatedly embarrassed as a child by telling friends that we were going to do something, then it didn't happen. I think I learned to be disappointed, in general. Do you have this same sense? So, with this offer, I only told one long distance friend - hoping for a balanced vision of what to do with a house. It just seemed that if the universe was offering such a large gift, I should consider it. But I felt really guilty. Why would Mom and Dad choose me? There are 9 of us. Shouldn't we share. I think that came from my - you go first - approach to life (Being Grandma!) and from wondering if everyone knows I am the family loser, and so I need the most help. I immediately thought of two other sibs who also need help - good indication of my emotional condition!!!
So, that's my account of the weekend. My other thought is that I saw some of the first photos. My eyes look less wary, a little more alive than ever before. I think that's because of the work we have been doing together, and the connection we have deepened. So, thank you!!
And I love you, and the offer/request still stands: If you would like to come help me entertain my foreign guests on the 27th and 28th, I would love to have you!
Clare
Since we stayed overnight, we were invited to come and take things from the house. Because my grandchildren were fried, my friend and I got them settled in her house, then went back to Mom and Dad's. Everyone was there. I was overwhelmed again. I thought there would be a little quiet time. People were organizing and packing food, looking at stuff in the house, talking, watching something on the internet that Mom pulled up. Typical chaos. Mom handed me the list and there were names all over it. I was sort of stunned, and she said, "Didn't you know we were moving? Doesn't anyone read my Sunday evening emails?" I said I read them, and she mentioned thinking about going further south because of the winters. She told me that S#5 took over and found an apartment near her home, next to a church, across the street from the library, in a quiet neighborhood. They are going to look at it this week.
I just put the list down and wandered through the chaos.
At one quiet moment Dad said he was surprised by how enthusiastic mom was about moving. He was shocked by how fast she was getting rid of their stuff.
People started drifting out. I will admit that as I watched one brother taking things off the wall and moving them to the car, I had this selfish impulse of "I'll take that! Mine!" But I started laughing at myself and relaxed. It's funny to see that sibling rivalry lives forever. I mentioned my impulse to my friend later, and she said he would have given it to me. I knew that. I was more interested in my emotional response than the item.
I told Mom that I would like to take one thing for each of my children - something that would remind them of their grandparent's home. She kept offering stuff. I took some things. She said they'll have more as they prepare to actually move. Think very carefully about what you want. It is available if you want something. Mostly sibs were being practical. We have a niece who is trying to set up her own household. A lot of the furniture will go there. That is practical.
There was another layer going on at the same time. I don't think anyone knew but me and my children, but I'm going to spill. The week before the birthday party Mom sent me and email telling me that she and Dad would like to give me the house if I wanted it. I will say that I was very confused. I was wondering why and what strings would be attached. I wondered what I would do with it, because my absolute first thought was that I would not live far away from my grandchildren and my children - in that order! I want to be important to my grandchildren, and I want to be welcoming and supportive for my children in a way I have never known.
So, at the party I heard Mom tell someone, oh yeah - we sold the house. And Dad told my son, "We were going to give the house to your family, but we sold it in 3 days. Easiest sale I've ever had!" No one told me the offer was off, but I was relieved. My dilemma was over. And the money will be useful for them as they get settled somewhere new.
But I flashed back to our childhood. I don't know if you have the same strong sense as I do, but it seems Dad frequently told us we were going to do something or that something was going to happen. Then he changed his mind, it didn't happen and he would be furious with us for expecting it. I was repeatedly embarrassed as a child by telling friends that we were going to do something, then it didn't happen. I think I learned to be disappointed, in general. Do you have this same sense? So, with this offer, I only told one long distance friend - hoping for a balanced vision of what to do with a house. It just seemed that if the universe was offering such a large gift, I should consider it. But I felt really guilty. Why would Mom and Dad choose me? There are 9 of us. Shouldn't we share. I think that came from my - you go first - approach to life (Being Grandma!) and from wondering if everyone knows I am the family loser, and so I need the most help. I immediately thought of two other sibs who also need help - good indication of my emotional condition!!!
So, that's my account of the weekend. My other thought is that I saw some of the first photos. My eyes look less wary, a little more alive than ever before. I think that's because of the work we have been doing together, and the connection we have deepened. So, thank you!!
And I love you, and the offer/request still stands: If you would like to come help me entertain my foreign guests on the 27th and 28th, I would love to have you!
Clare
Sunday, July 14, 2013
forced family fun
Clare,
So we survived "forced family fun"...
I am glad that I attended, but was glad to leave.
I had a real sense of being an outsider...
which I thought would bother me a lot...
but it didn't.
I was in control...
I set the boundaries...
I chose to spend time with whomever I wanted to...
and it was fun.
I enjoyed your family...
Your son's children are sweet and their mom was very friendly.
It was good to see your youngest and her baby again.
I have to comment on the deja vu, all over again...I heard that on Friday night 'everyone' went through the house and signed a paper for the things they wanted from the parents' house...
were you there? I certainly wasn't...so I will receive nothing...
It is a strange thought that I may never go back to that town or house again.
OK that's got to end the negativity...back into positive attitude land.
The article about the evolution of the brain is fascinating.
It makes perfect sense, but is amazing that we acknowledge evolution, but don't see it happening to us.
I have come to believe that we can evolve the brain to connect with the higher processing centers in the prefrontal and frontal cortex and "evolve" to a higher level of consciousness. We are able to replace the fight or flight reactions to perceived threats with reasoning and processed information and decisions that flow from those.
Imagine what the world would be like if we didn't react the way that we saw our parents react to stress...or the way that we've learned to cope with stress and anxiety...It really would be the end of the "chain of anger"...and many other negative emotions and reactions.
So what were your observations? Did you learn any lessons from the day?
I am beat...we just sat through a double header in 90+ heat...I am going to get comfortable and just chill out.
Love and Light...
Maggie
So we survived "forced family fun"...
I am glad that I attended, but was glad to leave.
I had a real sense of being an outsider...
which I thought would bother me a lot...
but it didn't.
I was in control...
I set the boundaries...
I chose to spend time with whomever I wanted to...
and it was fun.
I enjoyed your family...
Your son's children are sweet and their mom was very friendly.
It was good to see your youngest and her baby again.
I have to comment on the deja vu, all over again...I heard that on Friday night 'everyone' went through the house and signed a paper for the things they wanted from the parents' house...
were you there? I certainly wasn't...so I will receive nothing...
It is a strange thought that I may never go back to that town or house again.
OK that's got to end the negativity...back into positive attitude land.
The article about the evolution of the brain is fascinating.
It makes perfect sense, but is amazing that we acknowledge evolution, but don't see it happening to us.
I have come to believe that we can evolve the brain to connect with the higher processing centers in the prefrontal and frontal cortex and "evolve" to a higher level of consciousness. We are able to replace the fight or flight reactions to perceived threats with reasoning and processed information and decisions that flow from those.
Imagine what the world would be like if we didn't react the way that we saw our parents react to stress...or the way that we've learned to cope with stress and anxiety...It really would be the end of the "chain of anger"...and many other negative emotions and reactions.
So what were your observations? Did you learn any lessons from the day?
I am beat...we just sat through a double header in 90+ heat...I am going to get comfortable and just chill out.
Love and Light...
Maggie
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Maybe Mom
The 'isms" form the prisms through which we view life...
Beautiful. And profound. I love it when words come together like that.
I think Mom did rock us and look into our eyes. I think she saw who was in there. I remember she sang every night, she read every night - when we were little. You were toddling in the years I remember. But she was a victim of the times, of child psychologists telling moms not to spoil their children, not to give into their demands. I have read over and over that our babies are manipulating us, when they are telling us that what they need is contact, presence, breath, love. I had my mother-in-law in my face for so long, so sure my babies needed to be weaned, telling me I was spoiling them by picking them up, refusing to let them cry it out.
I was so stressed and frazzled, partly from the pressure of having babies, but also from the constant criticism. I was whining to my best friend from college who calmly pointed out, "They're yours to spoil. If you spoil them, you have to deal with it." That made all the difference.
The other problem Mom had was a complete lack of community. We moved every year, and rarely lived near family. She didn't have anything. Long distance phone calls were so expensive - all she had were letters. And sometimes when a mom gets to the end of the day, there is nothing left. That's why we need dad, sisters, friends, grandma...we need a tribe.
I remembered some of our early family crazy to Mom once, and she said she was probably a little insane at that point. I was about 4 years old, so she had 4 kids and was pregnant. Somehow she kept it together, though.
If you would like to stop here, on your drive, you are welcome. I don;t know if that makes sense or not, but you are welcome.
We are still trying to figure out who goes where when. This is just who we are!
I will see you in two days. I am getting nervous, trying to stay out of my rut.
I read something intereting today. I'll attach it here. It took me back to something profound I read several years ago. If I can find it, I will attach it below. It sort of reminds me of the Course in Miracles...maybe...
http://www.collective-evolution.com/2013/06/16/how-to-by-pass-your-reptilian-brain-and-restore-your-creative-power/#_
I can't find the other. I was written by Matthew Fox and published in The Center Post, from the Rowe Conference Center years ago. He talked about having to evolve from the ancient reptilian brain to the newer mammalian brain. It affected me profoundly.
Off to hang laundry in the bright sunshine.
See you soon...Love you!!!
Clare
Beautiful. And profound. I love it when words come together like that.
I think Mom did rock us and look into our eyes. I think she saw who was in there. I remember she sang every night, she read every night - when we were little. You were toddling in the years I remember. But she was a victim of the times, of child psychologists telling moms not to spoil their children, not to give into their demands. I have read over and over that our babies are manipulating us, when they are telling us that what they need is contact, presence, breath, love. I had my mother-in-law in my face for so long, so sure my babies needed to be weaned, telling me I was spoiling them by picking them up, refusing to let them cry it out.
I was so stressed and frazzled, partly from the pressure of having babies, but also from the constant criticism. I was whining to my best friend from college who calmly pointed out, "They're yours to spoil. If you spoil them, you have to deal with it." That made all the difference.
The other problem Mom had was a complete lack of community. We moved every year, and rarely lived near family. She didn't have anything. Long distance phone calls were so expensive - all she had were letters. And sometimes when a mom gets to the end of the day, there is nothing left. That's why we need dad, sisters, friends, grandma...we need a tribe.
I remembered some of our early family crazy to Mom once, and she said she was probably a little insane at that point. I was about 4 years old, so she had 4 kids and was pregnant. Somehow she kept it together, though.
If you would like to stop here, on your drive, you are welcome. I don;t know if that makes sense or not, but you are welcome.
We are still trying to figure out who goes where when. This is just who we are!
I will see you in two days. I am getting nervous, trying to stay out of my rut.
I read something intereting today. I'll attach it here. It took me back to something profound I read several years ago. If I can find it, I will attach it below. It sort of reminds me of the Course in Miracles...maybe...
http://www.collective-evolution.com/2013/06/16/how-to-by-pass-your-reptilian-brain-and-restore-your-creative-power/#_
I can't find the other. I was written by Matthew Fox and published in The Center Post, from the Rowe Conference Center years ago. He talked about having to evolve from the ancient reptilian brain to the newer mammalian brain. It affected me profoundly.
Off to hang laundry in the bright sunshine.
See you soon...Love you!!!
Clare
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Freeing insights
The 'isms" form the prisms through which we view life...
That sounds like the refrain of a song...I will have to work on those lyrics.
I had a heart to heart with my wise friend today...
she listened while I described my stress eating and anxiety about gathering...
she calmly told me that I establish the boundaries in my life now...
she reassured me that I was safe...
and she told me that I had already fulfilled my entitlement to my family, particularly to Mom...
and that I have no obligations...
I am not obliged to create a facade for anyone there...
she told me to seek you out because you are truly family...
and to celebrate the victories of my life.
She also gave me insight that I needed to hear...
our family, particularly Mom, has given love as best she was able...
she has given love as she was taught to give...
and for me to want more or different is a waste of time and energy...
that I must go to another well to be filled and satiated.
That was freeing to me...that my expectations can and should change...
no longer fantasizing that I will be appreciated for just being me...
not for the incredible good that I do for everyone around me...
but just for being me, imperfect, flawed, but amazingly gifted me.
It frees me from waiting for acceptance (51 years is long enough) and it frees her/them from having to try to live up to my expectations and consequently be pulled down by my disappointment.
When I was a baby who attended to my cries? Who rocked me, or sang to me? Who looked into my eyes to see the soul residing within that little body? Who gave me that gift?
Someone had to have given me some love and support because I have been much different with my own children...I am curious who that person was.
I am driving up for the gathering, and driving home when I have had enough family time. It will be exhausting but I believe that is the best way to maintain boundaries. It will be good to see you.
Love and Light,
Maggie
That sounds like the refrain of a song...I will have to work on those lyrics.
I had a heart to heart with my wise friend today...
she listened while I described my stress eating and anxiety about gathering...
she calmly told me that I establish the boundaries in my life now...
she reassured me that I was safe...
and she told me that I had already fulfilled my entitlement to my family, particularly to Mom...
and that I have no obligations...
I am not obliged to create a facade for anyone there...
she told me to seek you out because you are truly family...
and to celebrate the victories of my life.
She also gave me insight that I needed to hear...
our family, particularly Mom, has given love as best she was able...
she has given love as she was taught to give...
and for me to want more or different is a waste of time and energy...
that I must go to another well to be filled and satiated.
That was freeing to me...that my expectations can and should change...
no longer fantasizing that I will be appreciated for just being me...
not for the incredible good that I do for everyone around me...
but just for being me, imperfect, flawed, but amazingly gifted me.
It frees me from waiting for acceptance (51 years is long enough) and it frees her/them from having to try to live up to my expectations and consequently be pulled down by my disappointment.
When I was a baby who attended to my cries? Who rocked me, or sang to me? Who looked into my eyes to see the soul residing within that little body? Who gave me that gift?
Someone had to have given me some love and support because I have been much different with my own children...I am curious who that person was.
I am driving up for the gathering, and driving home when I have had enough family time. It will be exhausting but I believe that is the best way to maintain boundaries. It will be good to see you.
Love and Light,
Maggie
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Invisibilization
My best friend from college and I have had a few heart-to-hearts, analyzing the world, wondering why women, especially of our generation have to be nice. Why is it so important to be nice? How are we trained, why do we only think we are valuable if we are nice.
One thing that comes to mind is that mothers naturally put their children's needs before their own. That is innate. Perhaps society played on that instinct and used it to invisibilize women. I believe that in a healthy tribe, the community supports the mother so she is not alone. When mama gives all to her baby, she has the security of knowing she is not alone, and that someone who values her and the baby will be there. There is a give-and-take. I feel like I'm rambling, but I know what I mean...
I always go back to waiting for Mom to get to me...Just wait. I'm doing my duty to everyone else, and still waiting...
Dad was bad, but his father was worse. He had horrible names for all ethnicities. Not a nice family. I remember how mad Pop was when one of our cousins was involved with an Oriental woman. He carried on, he was nasty. Dad had calmed down. Remember how he flipped about boyfriends with long hair?
The isms are deep, and almost invisible. I think they form the prisms through which we view life. We need some sort of framework, but we do have to take a giant step backwards and see if we agree with the framework we have been given.
We are going in circles, trying to decide who will get to the party this weekend at what time. No plans are made, and yet they change constantly. This is why I didn't bother to make reservations anywhere!!!
See you Saturday. We can smile together!
Love you,
Clare
One thing that comes to mind is that mothers naturally put their children's needs before their own. That is innate. Perhaps society played on that instinct and used it to invisibilize women. I believe that in a healthy tribe, the community supports the mother so she is not alone. When mama gives all to her baby, she has the security of knowing she is not alone, and that someone who values her and the baby will be there. There is a give-and-take. I feel like I'm rambling, but I know what I mean...
I always go back to waiting for Mom to get to me...Just wait. I'm doing my duty to everyone else, and still waiting...
Dad was bad, but his father was worse. He had horrible names for all ethnicities. Not a nice family. I remember how mad Pop was when one of our cousins was involved with an Oriental woman. He carried on, he was nasty. Dad had calmed down. Remember how he flipped about boyfriends with long hair?
The isms are deep, and almost invisible. I think they form the prisms through which we view life. We need some sort of framework, but we do have to take a giant step backwards and see if we agree with the framework we have been given.
We are going in circles, trying to decide who will get to the party this weekend at what time. No plans are made, and yet they change constantly. This is why I didn't bother to make reservations anywhere!!!
See you Saturday. We can smile together!
Love you,
Clare
Monday, July 8, 2013
A safe distance
I agree that we need others to belong to...we are communal beings.
But why do we sacrifice ourselves, our values, our self-worth, our health and well being for the sake of the group?
Why are we willing to take care of others' needs at the expense of our own needs?
I said something today at lunch with a friend...I told her that it took me a long time to appreciate the value of selfishness...learning to take care of myself so that I can take care of others is important. She just laughed and pointed out that the only reason that I allow myself care is to be able to take care of the other...she asked me why I don't take care of myself for myself? I appreciated her insights. There is something skewed about valuing everyone else more than myself.
But that is how I was programmed...everyone else is more important, more worthy, more in need.
I will work on that.
I like the realization that you had at that moment with your grandson...
the connection is still there...
even if it is distant...
and therefore safe.
I talked about family today at lunch...and realized how much growth has occurred within our family.
I was talking about how prejudiced our father was...and how he came to accept an African-American son in law, and biracial grandchildren. That is an amazing task to accomplish in one lifetime.
It made me gain appreciation for him...but again it is at a safe distance. Perhaps that is how it will have to be for the time being...if distance is safe then this gathering will be challenging. I have been preparing...trying to hold positive images and stop the negative thoughts as soon as I recognize them. Time will tell if it works.
I am appreciating, more and more, how subtle the "isms" are...how deeply ingrained in our minds and culture so that we don't notice their negativity and degradation. It is a way of separating us from them...creating the disconnect that allows for violence to occur and sadly be tolerated on a societal level.
A lot to think about...
Love and Light,
Maggie
But why do we sacrifice ourselves, our values, our self-worth, our health and well being for the sake of the group?
Why are we willing to take care of others' needs at the expense of our own needs?
I said something today at lunch with a friend...I told her that it took me a long time to appreciate the value of selfishness...learning to take care of myself so that I can take care of others is important. She just laughed and pointed out that the only reason that I allow myself care is to be able to take care of the other...she asked me why I don't take care of myself for myself? I appreciated her insights. There is something skewed about valuing everyone else more than myself.
But that is how I was programmed...everyone else is more important, more worthy, more in need.
I will work on that.
I like the realization that you had at that moment with your grandson...
the connection is still there...
even if it is distant...
and therefore safe.
I talked about family today at lunch...and realized how much growth has occurred within our family.
I was talking about how prejudiced our father was...and how he came to accept an African-American son in law, and biracial grandchildren. That is an amazing task to accomplish in one lifetime.
It made me gain appreciation for him...but again it is at a safe distance. Perhaps that is how it will have to be for the time being...if distance is safe then this gathering will be challenging. I have been preparing...trying to hold positive images and stop the negative thoughts as soon as I recognize them. Time will tell if it works.
I am appreciating, more and more, how subtle the "isms" are...how deeply ingrained in our minds and culture so that we don't notice their negativity and degradation. It is a way of separating us from them...creating the disconnect that allows for violence to occur and sadly be tolerated on a societal level.
A lot to think about...
Love and Light,
Maggie
Sunday, July 7, 2013
circles
I always come back to: let's redefine family. I remember a poem I found in high school about drawing a circle that includes. We all need to belong to someone. It's human nature to want to know who our tribe includes. I think we are in more pain and we cause more pain when we are lost, without our people.
I was picking raspberries with my grandson. We passed a honeysuckle bush with the bright, translucent berries. They grew on the hill in front of Grandma and Pop's house. I loved rolling down that hill, careening out of control on freshly mowed grass. I remember noticing the berries and asking about them. Pop told me to never, ever eat them because they would make me sick. My little guy asked about the same berries, and I told him we never, ever eat them because they could make us sick. I don;t even know if that is true. But I felt joined to family for just a moment. And maybe moments are enough.
I long for a close-knit family, with lots of interaction. I seem to have that with my kids. It takes a lot more work that what we're used to. And we do have drama sometimes. Not healthy, but healthier...I'll treasure healthier!
Feminism...I know that when a group of my friends invited me to go see a male stripper show, I decided not to go. If I disapprove of the objectification of women, I have to extend that to men. Then in the 90's male-bashing jokes became popular. A male friend of mine explained why it was not funny. I agreed, as long as women bashing was equally inappropriate. But I started understanding the oppression of men. It is subtle, but it;s there. And it is the reason they oppress women, other races, people of other gender orientation. Their souls are shredded, too. It's all one big picture, if we bother to look, and to really see what is happening.
I think your friend is saying what I say. Humans are good, kind, intelligent. Violence destroys that, and allows us to become more and more inhumane. Violence is the tool that destroys humanity.
OUTWITTED:
"He drew a circle that shut me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But Love and I had the wit to win
We drew a circle that took him in."
-Edward Markham
I was picking raspberries with my grandson. We passed a honeysuckle bush with the bright, translucent berries. They grew on the hill in front of Grandma and Pop's house. I loved rolling down that hill, careening out of control on freshly mowed grass. I remember noticing the berries and asking about them. Pop told me to never, ever eat them because they would make me sick. My little guy asked about the same berries, and I told him we never, ever eat them because they could make us sick. I don;t even know if that is true. But I felt joined to family for just a moment. And maybe moments are enough.
I long for a close-knit family, with lots of interaction. I seem to have that with my kids. It takes a lot more work that what we're used to. And we do have drama sometimes. Not healthy, but healthier...I'll treasure healthier!
Feminism...I know that when a group of my friends invited me to go see a male stripper show, I decided not to go. If I disapprove of the objectification of women, I have to extend that to men. Then in the 90's male-bashing jokes became popular. A male friend of mine explained why it was not funny. I agreed, as long as women bashing was equally inappropriate. But I started understanding the oppression of men. It is subtle, but it;s there. And it is the reason they oppress women, other races, people of other gender orientation. Their souls are shredded, too. It's all one big picture, if we bother to look, and to really see what is happening.
I think your friend is saying what I say. Humans are good, kind, intelligent. Violence destroys that, and allows us to become more and more inhumane. Violence is the tool that destroys humanity.
OUTWITTED:
"He drew a circle that shut me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But Love and I had the wit to win
We drew a circle that took him in."
-Edward Markham
Rethinking feminism
Maybe we really aren't family...
maybe we are just genetically related.
If we can't or don't share history and memory then what binds us?
Obligations?
Expectations?
Guilt?
We had dinner with husband's cousin last evening.
They were telling stories and reminiscing about their childhood and the other relatives...
there was a sense of belonging...of connection...
perhaps what family feels like when you don't have to rewrite the past to make it acceptable.
I had a great conversation with a friend at the domestic violence shelter yesterday...
She wanted to know why I don't consider myself a feminist. I told her it was because I believe that everyone should be equal...all vulnerable and oppressed people should be raised up...not just women...
but not to the detriment of others. There has to be an equalizing of power but not by making the "other" oppressed and vulnerable. Does that make sense?
Advocacy isn't just to benefit women...or specific races...
It is about reconnecting people.
It is about removing the descriptive terms that are associated with bias and prejudice.
It is about removing the "silos" that maintain "them" and "us"...
perpetuating the disconnect and destroy cooperation, coalitions and community.
My friend said something very profound...that violence makes the perpetrator less than their greatest potential. Her example was an abusive man who controls and abuses his wife/girlfriend and expects love in return. The relationship can never be truly loving because the victim is afraid and fear and love don't coexist. I remember reading once that you can make people respect and fear you, but you can never make them love you...it's why the idea of a wrathful God is so preposterous...God is love...and seeks love from all of us. I remember at my confirmation I was so confused by "gift of the Holy Spirit"called "Holy Fear"...why do I want to adore a divine being that requires holy fear to approach?
So, the path to self-actualization for men is to come to the realization that power and control are not necessary while the path for women is to understand that being strong and interdependent is valuable. We all need to see the complimentary nature of the other...and destroy the walls that maintain that otherness.
Interdependence is not something that our family understands, appreciates or practices. That is very sad. Perhaps that is something the next generation will learn.
I am exhausted. I stained both of our wooden decks this afternoon, only to have a storm blow in about an hour after I was finished. I hope that it doesn't affect it too much. Anyway I am going to say good evening. I will check in tomorrow.
Love and Light,
Maggie
maybe we are just genetically related.
If we can't or don't share history and memory then what binds us?
Obligations?
Expectations?
Guilt?
We had dinner with husband's cousin last evening.
They were telling stories and reminiscing about their childhood and the other relatives...
there was a sense of belonging...of connection...
perhaps what family feels like when you don't have to rewrite the past to make it acceptable.
I had a great conversation with a friend at the domestic violence shelter yesterday...
She wanted to know why I don't consider myself a feminist. I told her it was because I believe that everyone should be equal...all vulnerable and oppressed people should be raised up...not just women...
but not to the detriment of others. There has to be an equalizing of power but not by making the "other" oppressed and vulnerable. Does that make sense?
Advocacy isn't just to benefit women...or specific races...
It is about reconnecting people.
It is about removing the descriptive terms that are associated with bias and prejudice.
It is about removing the "silos" that maintain "them" and "us"...
perpetuating the disconnect and destroy cooperation, coalitions and community.
My friend said something very profound...that violence makes the perpetrator less than their greatest potential. Her example was an abusive man who controls and abuses his wife/girlfriend and expects love in return. The relationship can never be truly loving because the victim is afraid and fear and love don't coexist. I remember reading once that you can make people respect and fear you, but you can never make them love you...it's why the idea of a wrathful God is so preposterous...God is love...and seeks love from all of us. I remember at my confirmation I was so confused by "gift of the Holy Spirit"called "Holy Fear"...why do I want to adore a divine being that requires holy fear to approach?
So, the path to self-actualization for men is to come to the realization that power and control are not necessary while the path for women is to understand that being strong and interdependent is valuable. We all need to see the complimentary nature of the other...and destroy the walls that maintain that otherness.
Interdependence is not something that our family understands, appreciates or practices. That is very sad. Perhaps that is something the next generation will learn.
I am exhausted. I stained both of our wooden decks this afternoon, only to have a storm blow in about an hour after I was finished. I hope that it doesn't affect it too much. Anyway I am going to say good evening. I will check in tomorrow.
Love and Light,
Maggie
Friday, July 5, 2013
family
Good morning,
I listened to the song last night, but my youngest and her baby were with me, so I got the gist. This morning, in the solitude, I listened again, with intention, and the tears came.
I stood between Dad and my babies. When he called names, or started with violent tirades, I warned him, "I don't want anyone calling them names." And then we left if it didn't stop. Usually it didn't stop. He had so much anxiety from having too many people around him, he needed the release, and in true bully fashion, he vented it on the weakest link.
The problem was that once we got home, there was no one to protect them from me. That may be the biggest loss in our family. To avoid the bullying, the pain and the memories, we avoided each other. In truth, and with some courage, we were really the ones who could understand each other the best. We had survived the same wars. We could have stood with each other when the going got tough. Instead, we hid, in our own corners.
We have a family pattern. It took me years to catch on, mostly because I share the pattern. When things are very hard, we become very quiet. And when someone is very quiet, the rest of us just assume that no news is good news...
I have a friend who shares the term "chosen family." He had a chaotic childhood, and has created the same for several daughter with several mothers. I guess I think family shows up - whether you want them or not, they/we show up.
We had a Fourth of July picnic last night and I was watching the dynamics. I just finished The Road Less Traveled, and read the part about grace. We are all in predicaments that could kill us. Frequently. But something stops that. Grace. Angels. The will to live...Grace. Last night my son and a friend were riding the neighbor's 4-wheeler. I hate those things. I hate anything that wastes gas, but also they are dangerous. We have a young friend recovering from a broken spine from one of those damn machines. He seems to be healing, but his situation remains precarious.
After rolling the 4-wheeler, my son and his friend walked away with a cut elbow and brush-burned shoulders. Thank Heavens! And they were shaken up. After everyone went home, and the kitchen was cleaned, and the baby was asleep as was here mama, I thought about something I had just read. My son seems to be accident prone. He always takes grace to the extreme limit.
I know it comes from his early childhood. This young man is so amazing. He is generous and genuine, caring, almost psychic, talented, charming...but he seems to need to push the limit to test death. Is he questioning his right to be here? What is it inside of him that he is trying to prove or disprove? This is much like my defining myself as family loser. It doesn't matter what the rest of you think, I have my own reality.
Hmmmmm...maybe family is when reality meshes more closely than what we have in our group...
Hope you have a sweet day.
Love you so much...Clare
I listened to the song last night, but my youngest and her baby were with me, so I got the gist. This morning, in the solitude, I listened again, with intention, and the tears came.
I stood between Dad and my babies. When he called names, or started with violent tirades, I warned him, "I don't want anyone calling them names." And then we left if it didn't stop. Usually it didn't stop. He had so much anxiety from having too many people around him, he needed the release, and in true bully fashion, he vented it on the weakest link.
The problem was that once we got home, there was no one to protect them from me. That may be the biggest loss in our family. To avoid the bullying, the pain and the memories, we avoided each other. In truth, and with some courage, we were really the ones who could understand each other the best. We had survived the same wars. We could have stood with each other when the going got tough. Instead, we hid, in our own corners.
We have a family pattern. It took me years to catch on, mostly because I share the pattern. When things are very hard, we become very quiet. And when someone is very quiet, the rest of us just assume that no news is good news...
I have a friend who shares the term "chosen family." He had a chaotic childhood, and has created the same for several daughter with several mothers. I guess I think family shows up - whether you want them or not, they/we show up.
We had a Fourth of July picnic last night and I was watching the dynamics. I just finished The Road Less Traveled, and read the part about grace. We are all in predicaments that could kill us. Frequently. But something stops that. Grace. Angels. The will to live...Grace. Last night my son and a friend were riding the neighbor's 4-wheeler. I hate those things. I hate anything that wastes gas, but also they are dangerous. We have a young friend recovering from a broken spine from one of those damn machines. He seems to be healing, but his situation remains precarious.
After rolling the 4-wheeler, my son and his friend walked away with a cut elbow and brush-burned shoulders. Thank Heavens! And they were shaken up. After everyone went home, and the kitchen was cleaned, and the baby was asleep as was here mama, I thought about something I had just read. My son seems to be accident prone. He always takes grace to the extreme limit.
I know it comes from his early childhood. This young man is so amazing. He is generous and genuine, caring, almost psychic, talented, charming...but he seems to need to push the limit to test death. Is he questioning his right to be here? What is it inside of him that he is trying to prove or disprove? This is much like my defining myself as family loser. It doesn't matter what the rest of you think, I have my own reality.
Hmmmmm...maybe family is when reality meshes more closely than what we have in our group...
Hope you have a sweet day.
Love you so much...Clare
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Chain of anger stops here
I want to share this song with you.
I love the line, "the love is stronger than fear... your father's chain of anger stops right here".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQlACzLY2Mw.
A friend is in Colorado at the FGC gathering and this man sang, my friend sent me the link because he knows of my struggles. He cared enough to pass it along.
Perhaps that what family is...
knowing someone well enough and caring about them enough to share important, meaningful moments.
I keep going back to the image of a mother responding to her child's cries...
evaluating intuitively what the cause of the tears is...and responding compassionately.
That type of whole body, intuitive open-ness to others is the root of knowing them well.
We're back to being open, authentic and vulnerable...Maybe that's what real family is based upon.
Making mistakes, saying things that aren't meant, unintentionally hurting one another are all going to happen within a family...
but so is forgiveness, and growth, and learning life's lessons.
So where and when was that line crossed?
When did we stop asking for forgiveness, or recognizing the damage we were doing to each other?
Why are we still so blinded by our fear and guilt that we fail to see our wounds and recognize the need to expose and heal them. Just as a laceration or burn needs to be derided and cleansed to allow the removal of dead, unhealthy flesh so do our psychic, internal wounds need to be tended to and healed.
Shining the Light into those secret places to allow opening and understanding.
I saw a quote that read,
Real eyes
realize
real lies.
Maybe the key to opening to each other is to pray for and practice open-ness. I believe that the way is walking through the wounds and memories, just as we have been doing this past year or so. The journey through the swamp.
You are the one who sees you as the loser sister...you have to change the way that you are judging yourself before others will know you for you.
Love and Light
Maggie
I love the line, "the love is stronger than fear... your father's chain of anger stops right here".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQlACzLY2Mw.
A friend is in Colorado at the FGC gathering and this man sang, my friend sent me the link because he knows of my struggles. He cared enough to pass it along.
Perhaps that what family is...
knowing someone well enough and caring about them enough to share important, meaningful moments.
I keep going back to the image of a mother responding to her child's cries...
evaluating intuitively what the cause of the tears is...and responding compassionately.
That type of whole body, intuitive open-ness to others is the root of knowing them well.
We're back to being open, authentic and vulnerable...Maybe that's what real family is based upon.
Making mistakes, saying things that aren't meant, unintentionally hurting one another are all going to happen within a family...
but so is forgiveness, and growth, and learning life's lessons.
So where and when was that line crossed?
When did we stop asking for forgiveness, or recognizing the damage we were doing to each other?
Why are we still so blinded by our fear and guilt that we fail to see our wounds and recognize the need to expose and heal them. Just as a laceration or burn needs to be derided and cleansed to allow the removal of dead, unhealthy flesh so do our psychic, internal wounds need to be tended to and healed.
Shining the Light into those secret places to allow opening and understanding.
I saw a quote that read,
Real eyes
realize
real lies.
Maybe the key to opening to each other is to pray for and practice open-ness. I believe that the way is walking through the wounds and memories, just as we have been doing this past year or so. The journey through the swamp.
You are the one who sees you as the loser sister...you have to change the way that you are judging yourself before others will know you for you.
Love and Light
Maggie
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