Hi Maggie,
The dream was in the last house Mom and Dad lived in - the one where you lived to go to high school. And you're right, it was never my childhood home. But I never had the sense of having a childhood home. We lived in the house we moved to when Dad was sent to Viet Nam for about three years, then I lived in the house where I went to high school for a little over three years. That was the longest I ever lived anywhere. And I didn't really feel like either was home.
We always had a place to live, but I never felt like I was home.
Maybe my dream was in that last house because Mom and Dad were there for 36 years. It is the place my children identified as a family home. I was only ever a visitor. Kind of explains the way I often feel like a visitor.
Maybe I was tapping into Dad's lineage, as you mentioned. It fits. It is the source of much pain.
I was shocked when you associated your son's view of an evil earth and evil people with me. I actually believe the Earth is divine, and breathtaking and a gift so beautiful I almost can't comprehend it. And I believe that people are good and kind and intelligent...but the ongoing violations destroy our humanity.
I think my feelings of being overwhelmed have more to do with me not fitting, not the world being less than a miracle.
But there are moments of - I want to get off...or, maybe, I want it all to be different.
Congrats to my nephew!! It's nice to have direction.
I got little sleep last night and worked extra hours today. Exhaustion is settling on my poor brain...'til tomorrow...love and hugs from Clare.
Monday, February 29, 2016
stress
Clare,
I would love to visit, but I will be Reiki-ing all day Saturday. I got tickets for a college basketball game for Saturday for husband and the young men- to alleviate my guilt for being out of the house all day. It is a birthday present that he has wanted- it just happened to be VERY well timed.
I had spotty internet this past weekend- so I didn't check in.
I had some pretty intense discussions with my older son. He was accepted to the glass arts program that he wants to attend- so he's very excited. But,b before he checked the mail he was in angst over the meaninglessness of life…
what's the point?
won't we all die anyway?
what if I'm in the wrong universe?
this doesn't feel like home to me (universal sense).
We disagree on a fundamental idea…
I believe the world and people are good.
He believes the world and people are evil.
It is hard to find consensus when we are opposed so fundamentally- but we respect each other's ideas.
He was reminding me a lot of you dear sister- stop the world I want to get off!
Once he got the acceptance letter he was much less unsettled. He is starting to think about where he can live next year. He's leaning towards Phila. although I think it would be a mistake to live 30 minutes from campus. The commute would get old…
and he wouldn't really connect with other students if he didn't live close enough to socialize.
One more important turn…
he agreed to the background checks to allow the foster application to move forward.
I guess he needed time and space.
We all do.
Anyway- I am grateful to him for his open-ness to change.
I think you a re right about the stress and memory. I am sensing stress- poor appetite, interrupted sleep, poor concentration. Honestly, I think the idea of bringing the young men is so right, but the reality is daunting. I know we will have periods where we will clash and have conflict. I know it isn't going to be all happily ever after. But I also know that in the long run this is going to help them to be better adults. Perhaps keep them out of jail…
since that is what happens to so many young, black males.
It will offer them the opportunity to work towards their potential. I do have to admit to myself that I am concerned about what this will bring. It is all about LOVE. Love is enough to overcome obstacles.
The dreams are interesting. Which parental house did you visualize? The last one they were in? If so, it is weird to link that to resolution of your young past since you weren't a child in that house.
Houses represent souls- whose souls were you tapping into?
I have a sense that the grandparent's house with the black sense was either our paternal grandfather or the great-grandparent who was notoriously mean- that feels more correct to me. I think you were getting close to that dark energy that fed dad's family.
Maybe you can work to shine Light there…
Light turns darkness around…
maybe you can do some psychic work to Lighten the family tree.
"To see lilies in your dream symbolize tranquility, spirituality, faith, peace, purity, joy and bliss. It is also connected mourning."
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
I would love to visit, but I will be Reiki-ing all day Saturday. I got tickets for a college basketball game for Saturday for husband and the young men- to alleviate my guilt for being out of the house all day. It is a birthday present that he has wanted- it just happened to be VERY well timed.
I had spotty internet this past weekend- so I didn't check in.
I had some pretty intense discussions with my older son. He was accepted to the glass arts program that he wants to attend- so he's very excited. But,b before he checked the mail he was in angst over the meaninglessness of life…
what's the point?
won't we all die anyway?
what if I'm in the wrong universe?
this doesn't feel like home to me (universal sense).
We disagree on a fundamental idea…
I believe the world and people are good.
He believes the world and people are evil.
It is hard to find consensus when we are opposed so fundamentally- but we respect each other's ideas.
He was reminding me a lot of you dear sister- stop the world I want to get off!
Once he got the acceptance letter he was much less unsettled. He is starting to think about where he can live next year. He's leaning towards Phila. although I think it would be a mistake to live 30 minutes from campus. The commute would get old…
and he wouldn't really connect with other students if he didn't live close enough to socialize.
One more important turn…
he agreed to the background checks to allow the foster application to move forward.
I guess he needed time and space.
We all do.
Anyway- I am grateful to him for his open-ness to change.
I think you a re right about the stress and memory. I am sensing stress- poor appetite, interrupted sleep, poor concentration. Honestly, I think the idea of bringing the young men is so right, but the reality is daunting. I know we will have periods where we will clash and have conflict. I know it isn't going to be all happily ever after. But I also know that in the long run this is going to help them to be better adults. Perhaps keep them out of jail…
since that is what happens to so many young, black males.
It will offer them the opportunity to work towards their potential. I do have to admit to myself that I am concerned about what this will bring. It is all about LOVE. Love is enough to overcome obstacles.
The dreams are interesting. Which parental house did you visualize? The last one they were in? If so, it is weird to link that to resolution of your young past since you weren't a child in that house.
Houses represent souls- whose souls were you tapping into?
I have a sense that the grandparent's house with the black sense was either our paternal grandfather or the great-grandparent who was notoriously mean- that feels more correct to me. I think you were getting close to that dark energy that fed dad's family.
Maybe you can work to shine Light there…
Light turns darkness around…
maybe you can do some psychic work to Lighten the family tree.
"To see lilies in your dream symbolize tranquility, spirituality, faith, peace, purity, joy and bliss. It is also connected mourning."
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Saturday, February 27, 2016
pink lilies
And last night I dreamed about beautiful, healthy pink lilies. I was in my backyard with a group of people, and I looked to the west. In my yard was a bed with lots of pink lilies. I asked everyone to look!
Again, feels portent! Sharing so I don't forget. And in case you have insight!
Love and hugs from Clare
Again, feels portent! Sharing so I don't forget. And in case you have insight!
Love and hugs from Clare
Friday, February 26, 2016
scattered toys
Hi Maggie,
It's so nice to hear you so excited about life.
About the forgetting...I do that when I am under a lot of stress. I was supposed to go to an extended worship tomorrow, but things have been crazy and I agreed to help a kid and then I remembered I had another commitment...
I can remember past periods where I forgot meetings, I forgot to make calls - I just was not following through. That is not like me. Every time, though, I realized there was something painfully stressful happening in my life. Once the stress released, memory returned.
Oh well, if it's dementia, have fun. My late mother-in-law suffered dementia in the end, and became a little naughty. She was delighting in shocking my daughters with stories of her exploits. They treasure those moments, when she was most real!
Not sure what the definition of beauty is, and I'm still not owning it. I will be gracious, and say I believe you see something I don't, and that maybe it is there, but I am not whole enough to own it yet.
But I think I am getting closer.
It's just that owning it makes me vulnerable - in ways I don't understand, but which scare the crap out of me!
At this age, we all bear scars. Yours are more vivid and violent than most. But you are right - they are the scars that prove you have survived. You have a will to be reckoned with.
I definitely want Reiki from you. Make an appointment..and don't forget me! I look forward to hearing what you learn!
I had a dream last night that seems to have a message...not sure what, yet. I had to go to the town where Aunt MJ lives. I'm not sure why. When it was time to head home, I was exhausted. I didn't think I could make it all the way home. I thought maybe I could spend the night in our grandparent's home on the hill. As I got there, I saw a thick black substance covering the house. I could "see" it filling each room. I started to feel like I was suffocating. I knew I could not go there, it was bad. So I continued to the house Mom and Dad lived in for so many years. I got there, and it was light and opened, and littered with toys. I could hear snoring, and thought B#4 was asleep upstairs. I decided to go to the bathroom - more toys, then move more of the toys and sleep on the couch.
Toys scattered seem to be littered remains of our childhood. The fact that the space was light and open seems welcoming. Maybe I am coming to a place of peace with our childhood trauma. Maybe I am seeing something new. Maybe I'm ready to see some of the joyful moments - because it was not all bad...
Quiet weekend here. Grocery shopping, time with grandchildren...Next weekend S#3will be here without kids. Big girl birthday time...wanna come???
Love and hugs from Clare
It's so nice to hear you so excited about life.
About the forgetting...I do that when I am under a lot of stress. I was supposed to go to an extended worship tomorrow, but things have been crazy and I agreed to help a kid and then I remembered I had another commitment...
I can remember past periods where I forgot meetings, I forgot to make calls - I just was not following through. That is not like me. Every time, though, I realized there was something painfully stressful happening in my life. Once the stress released, memory returned.
Oh well, if it's dementia, have fun. My late mother-in-law suffered dementia in the end, and became a little naughty. She was delighting in shocking my daughters with stories of her exploits. They treasure those moments, when she was most real!
Not sure what the definition of beauty is, and I'm still not owning it. I will be gracious, and say I believe you see something I don't, and that maybe it is there, but I am not whole enough to own it yet.
But I think I am getting closer.
It's just that owning it makes me vulnerable - in ways I don't understand, but which scare the crap out of me!
At this age, we all bear scars. Yours are more vivid and violent than most. But you are right - they are the scars that prove you have survived. You have a will to be reckoned with.
I definitely want Reiki from you. Make an appointment..and don't forget me! I look forward to hearing what you learn!
I had a dream last night that seems to have a message...not sure what, yet. I had to go to the town where Aunt MJ lives. I'm not sure why. When it was time to head home, I was exhausted. I didn't think I could make it all the way home. I thought maybe I could spend the night in our grandparent's home on the hill. As I got there, I saw a thick black substance covering the house. I could "see" it filling each room. I started to feel like I was suffocating. I knew I could not go there, it was bad. So I continued to the house Mom and Dad lived in for so many years. I got there, and it was light and opened, and littered with toys. I could hear snoring, and thought B#4 was asleep upstairs. I decided to go to the bathroom - more toys, then move more of the toys and sleep on the couch.
Toys scattered seem to be littered remains of our childhood. The fact that the space was light and open seems welcoming. Maybe I am coming to a place of peace with our childhood trauma. Maybe I am seeing something new. Maybe I'm ready to see some of the joyful moments - because it was not all bad...
Quiet weekend here. Grocery shopping, time with grandchildren...Next weekend S#3will be here without kids. Big girl birthday time...wanna come???
Love and hugs from Clare
grateful
Clare,
You are BEAUTIFUL!
That is the definition of beauty.
Superficial beauty is so cliche…
and nebulous…
and fleeting…
one moment you glimpse it, the next it may be gone.
True beauty is in character.
I look at my body now.
Lumps where breasts should be…
scars instead of nipples…
no sagging, no stretch marks…
no movement…
they just stay put...
nice…
never have to wear a bra...
but not natural.
There's nothing beautiful about them superficially.
Their beauty is deep…
they are the evidence of our fight against cancer, of courage, of pain, of growth…
they are a reminder of how fleeting life is…
how precious life is…
how insignificant mammary glands really are in the big scheme of life.
But, I don't think I'll ever be comfortable naked with another human again.
I don't know if I can get that comfortable with the changes.
Boundaries are so difficult, especially in households that are so dysfunctional.
One thing that kids need are boundaries and limits…
they bitch and moan and rebel about them, but that's what they really want.
I remember talking with a therapist/friend when my kids were little…
some of my friends/relatives were very permissive with their kids…
I wondered if I was being too neurotic or if I was on track…
she told me that kids need structure and boundaries…
"they have enough friends, they need a parent"…
good advice.
I am really worried that I have dementia.
I showed up 30 minutes late for an appointment last week…
I missed an appointment today because I wrote the wrong practitioner on my datebook…
knew it was not correct…
and cancelled with the person I had written down.
The funny thing is that the practitioner never mentioned that she didn't have us in her schedule.
Anyway…
I think I'm losing it…
if I write it down I expect it to be right…
This is bad!
Next weekend I am doing a reiki 1 level attunement…
I'm so excited.
I will learn to flow reiki energy…
first on myself- level 1...
then on others- level 2...
then on complex cases- level 3.
I am excited to be able to learn this…
maybe the next time we see each other I'll be able to flow reiki for you.
I'm definitely practicing on my horses…
they love it.
I have to work at a health fair tomorrow for my new job. I think I'm there to put out fires, but I actually not sure of my role. I know who is in charge, so I plan on taking direction from her. I was told that this agency that I am working for is the background support for many projects- so I'm heeding that advice and laying low. I'm really looking forward to it though- my first outing alone.
I had a great talk with my friend and yoga instructor last night. I was the only one to show up for yoga class and we talked. We almost ran out of time ( 1.5 hour class) for yoga. She is also doing the reiki class next week and is part of the group to organize the "Integrate Center" that I'm dreaming up.
We talked about trauma and growth…
the alchemy of life.
We talked about turning our past hurts into lessons for ourselves and others.
It left me feeling so heard and connected.
I am surrounded by amazing women at this point in my life.
My new boss, my friends, my co-workers-
a very supportive, nurturing group to be around.
I am a lucky soul.
I am grateful.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
You are BEAUTIFUL!
That is the definition of beauty.
Superficial beauty is so cliche…
and nebulous…
and fleeting…
one moment you glimpse it, the next it may be gone.
True beauty is in character.
I look at my body now.
Lumps where breasts should be…
scars instead of nipples…
no sagging, no stretch marks…
no movement…
they just stay put...
nice…
never have to wear a bra...
but not natural.
There's nothing beautiful about them superficially.
Their beauty is deep…
they are the evidence of our fight against cancer, of courage, of pain, of growth…
they are a reminder of how fleeting life is…
how precious life is…
how insignificant mammary glands really are in the big scheme of life.
But, I don't think I'll ever be comfortable naked with another human again.
I don't know if I can get that comfortable with the changes.
Boundaries are so difficult, especially in households that are so dysfunctional.
One thing that kids need are boundaries and limits…
they bitch and moan and rebel about them, but that's what they really want.
I remember talking with a therapist/friend when my kids were little…
some of my friends/relatives were very permissive with their kids…
I wondered if I was being too neurotic or if I was on track…
she told me that kids need structure and boundaries…
"they have enough friends, they need a parent"…
good advice.
I am really worried that I have dementia.
I showed up 30 minutes late for an appointment last week…
I missed an appointment today because I wrote the wrong practitioner on my datebook…
knew it was not correct…
and cancelled with the person I had written down.
The funny thing is that the practitioner never mentioned that she didn't have us in her schedule.
Anyway…
I think I'm losing it…
if I write it down I expect it to be right…
This is bad!
Next weekend I am doing a reiki 1 level attunement…
I'm so excited.
I will learn to flow reiki energy…
first on myself- level 1...
then on others- level 2...
then on complex cases- level 3.
I am excited to be able to learn this…
maybe the next time we see each other I'll be able to flow reiki for you.
I'm definitely practicing on my horses…
they love it.
I have to work at a health fair tomorrow for my new job. I think I'm there to put out fires, but I actually not sure of my role. I know who is in charge, so I plan on taking direction from her. I was told that this agency that I am working for is the background support for many projects- so I'm heeding that advice and laying low. I'm really looking forward to it though- my first outing alone.
I had a great talk with my friend and yoga instructor last night. I was the only one to show up for yoga class and we talked. We almost ran out of time ( 1.5 hour class) for yoga. She is also doing the reiki class next week and is part of the group to organize the "Integrate Center" that I'm dreaming up.
We talked about trauma and growth…
the alchemy of life.
We talked about turning our past hurts into lessons for ourselves and others.
It left me feeling so heard and connected.
I am surrounded by amazing women at this point in my life.
My new boss, my friends, my co-workers-
a very supportive, nurturing group to be around.
I am a lucky soul.
I am grateful.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Thursday, February 25, 2016
shame - always revisited
Hi Maggie,
I'm glad you are feeling better. I'm really glad you figured out that you weren't feeling great!
Has your son considered some of the alternative schools - like Evergreen? or School of the Atlantic? or even Guilford? They rely less on traditional ways of evaluating students, I think.
We were not safe at home, and so we don't have a concept of safe. Everything seems okay. Or, maybe, we simply don't have boundaries. Maybe our lack of ability to set boundaries stems completely from this truth of our life. We don't know we are allowed to say: no - no further.
I always felt like Dad was ashamed of us, of me...You damned kids. I had the feeling, well, because he verbalized so clearly. that I was not worth much. And I felt like my husband and his family were ashamed of me, also. There was definitely a level of classism there...Poor Sonny and his flaky, dirty hippy girlfriend. And sometimes I wonder the same about my kids. Am I an embarrassment? I don't take care of myself.
There is a theme in my life, I see.
It seemed to be hitting me today. I was getting ready for a shower and glimpsed myself in the mirror and said something disgusted and unloving to that image. And then, somehow in the shower, I started letting those unkind words rinse away. I started thinking I deserve to be beautiful. I deserve to live in a beautiful place.
Then I started wondering what beautiful meant. Leave it to me to turn everything into a logic assignment! Is this going deeper? Or escaping the fearful words? Formal Latin, bellus, was used for women and children and insulting for a man. Even then it was lesser to be female. The definition I liked best was being in balance and harmony.
I read a little about a researcher/writer named Elaine Scarry who said that being vulnerable to beauty will lead you to see beauty in everything. Sort of sounds like being in love...the initial stages, which my oldest has termed "pink cloud land." I am wondering if it is possible to have that, that infatuated bliss with the world, and therefore with self...to maintain it, yet balance in harmony and bliss. She also said that beauty restores your trust in the world.
This is thought-provoking, because it bypasses the physical expectations lumped on us by current culture and current media.
Yet, I noticed I was watching something on the internet, and found myself studying eyebrows and thinking about beauty.
So I'm weird today...what is new.
Right now I am thinking that my beautiful body needs to be fed only the most beautiful, nutritious foods...but give me a day and some nicely addicting chocolate, and this will pass...
Hope all is well with you this evening...
Love and hugs from Clare
I'm glad you are feeling better. I'm really glad you figured out that you weren't feeling great!
Has your son considered some of the alternative schools - like Evergreen? or School of the Atlantic? or even Guilford? They rely less on traditional ways of evaluating students, I think.
We were not safe at home, and so we don't have a concept of safe. Everything seems okay. Or, maybe, we simply don't have boundaries. Maybe our lack of ability to set boundaries stems completely from this truth of our life. We don't know we are allowed to say: no - no further.
I always felt like Dad was ashamed of us, of me...You damned kids. I had the feeling, well, because he verbalized so clearly. that I was not worth much. And I felt like my husband and his family were ashamed of me, also. There was definitely a level of classism there...Poor Sonny and his flaky, dirty hippy girlfriend. And sometimes I wonder the same about my kids. Am I an embarrassment? I don't take care of myself.
There is a theme in my life, I see.
It seemed to be hitting me today. I was getting ready for a shower and glimpsed myself in the mirror and said something disgusted and unloving to that image. And then, somehow in the shower, I started letting those unkind words rinse away. I started thinking I deserve to be beautiful. I deserve to live in a beautiful place.
Then I started wondering what beautiful meant. Leave it to me to turn everything into a logic assignment! Is this going deeper? Or escaping the fearful words? Formal Latin, bellus, was used for women and children and insulting for a man. Even then it was lesser to be female. The definition I liked best was being in balance and harmony.
I read a little about a researcher/writer named Elaine Scarry who said that being vulnerable to beauty will lead you to see beauty in everything. Sort of sounds like being in love...the initial stages, which my oldest has termed "pink cloud land." I am wondering if it is possible to have that, that infatuated bliss with the world, and therefore with self...to maintain it, yet balance in harmony and bliss. She also said that beauty restores your trust in the world.
This is thought-provoking, because it bypasses the physical expectations lumped on us by current culture and current media.
Yet, I noticed I was watching something on the internet, and found myself studying eyebrows and thinking about beauty.
So I'm weird today...what is new.
Right now I am thinking that my beautiful body needs to be fed only the most beautiful, nutritious foods...but give me a day and some nicely addicting chocolate, and this will pass...
Hope all is well with you this evening...
Love and hugs from Clare
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
better
Clare,
I feel much better today. I think I had a virus for the past 10 days…
fatigue, apathy, slight sore throat, congestion, minor GI upset…
BLAHHHHHH…
no fun.
Anyway today I feel better- not 100%…
but functional.
The death of the young men's mother does change the dynamics somewhat.
It really doesn't change their day to day…
they hadn't heard from her in 3+ years, or seen in her in over 5 years.
But- they still described her as their 'best friend'…
and told stories of their young days with her.
This past weekend a few telling pieces of information came out…
she yelled a lot…
and was an embarrassment to them.
I'm not sure where the shame came from.
I do think it adds an element of closure- no longer wishing to reattach…
but not being able to reconnect in this life.
I offered my own perspective- that when a person dies they are still close…
maybe even closer because they're not constrained by the physical plane…
and we can reach out to them at any time.
I wonder about our home when I was young…
I was constantly sleeping at a friend's house on weekends to get away. My elementary school friend's house included an alcoholic father who sometimes came home and beat up his wife. My friend and I would pretend to sleep in her room. It's crazy but that was preferable to being in our house. This was during the time that I was still being molested- I guess if I was spared the physical abuse it was a better situation. What a screwed up sense of safety. There was no real safety.
My lecture today was about regulation ( physical, emotional, behavioral) in traumatized kids…
and how it's damn near impossible to expect regulated reactions when the traumas continue and kids have no one to go to for safety. Safety is so important to development…
and yet it is so overlooked.
Parents who cannot regulate their own emotions/cravings/behaviors can't help their children learn to regulate theirs. What a world we live in.
I gave an exam today…
a poor showing by most of the class…
but there were some bright spots. It makes me frustrated to spend so much time discussing the ideas, concepts, facts…and have them so clueless about what is important.
One woman was trying to ask questions in ways that showed she had no clue what the answer was, but maybe I'd tell her what was correct. I got to the point that I said, "that is something you should have learned prior to this exam".
I spend hours offering study sessions…
most don't take advantage of them…
I offered an extra credit question…
only one explained the whole concept well…
I think I'm getting old and forgetting what a 100 level class looks like…
but I think my questions are pretty basic.
I don't know.
I guess I should reach out to the other instructor and ask what her experience has been.
I am helping my older son apply to college. He's got a crappy GPA, but good SAT scores. He may have to take a semester or two of 'gen eds' to prove himself to get into the competitive program that he wants. He wants to get a degree in scientific glass technology. He is also planning on getting a second degree in glass art and combine the two for a career in glass art. They are both associates degrees- so he's looking at 4 years of school. It's so good to see him pursuing something like this- focused, goal oriented, motivated.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
I feel much better today. I think I had a virus for the past 10 days…
fatigue, apathy, slight sore throat, congestion, minor GI upset…
BLAHHHHHH…
no fun.
Anyway today I feel better- not 100%…
but functional.
The death of the young men's mother does change the dynamics somewhat.
It really doesn't change their day to day…
they hadn't heard from her in 3+ years, or seen in her in over 5 years.
But- they still described her as their 'best friend'…
and told stories of their young days with her.
This past weekend a few telling pieces of information came out…
she yelled a lot…
and was an embarrassment to them.
I'm not sure where the shame came from.
I do think it adds an element of closure- no longer wishing to reattach…
but not being able to reconnect in this life.
I offered my own perspective- that when a person dies they are still close…
maybe even closer because they're not constrained by the physical plane…
and we can reach out to them at any time.
I wonder about our home when I was young…
I was constantly sleeping at a friend's house on weekends to get away. My elementary school friend's house included an alcoholic father who sometimes came home and beat up his wife. My friend and I would pretend to sleep in her room. It's crazy but that was preferable to being in our house. This was during the time that I was still being molested- I guess if I was spared the physical abuse it was a better situation. What a screwed up sense of safety. There was no real safety.
My lecture today was about regulation ( physical, emotional, behavioral) in traumatized kids…
and how it's damn near impossible to expect regulated reactions when the traumas continue and kids have no one to go to for safety. Safety is so important to development…
and yet it is so overlooked.
Parents who cannot regulate their own emotions/cravings/behaviors can't help their children learn to regulate theirs. What a world we live in.
I gave an exam today…
a poor showing by most of the class…
but there were some bright spots. It makes me frustrated to spend so much time discussing the ideas, concepts, facts…and have them so clueless about what is important.
One woman was trying to ask questions in ways that showed she had no clue what the answer was, but maybe I'd tell her what was correct. I got to the point that I said, "that is something you should have learned prior to this exam".
I spend hours offering study sessions…
most don't take advantage of them…
I offered an extra credit question…
only one explained the whole concept well…
I think I'm getting old and forgetting what a 100 level class looks like…
but I think my questions are pretty basic.
I don't know.
I guess I should reach out to the other instructor and ask what her experience has been.
I am helping my older son apply to college. He's got a crappy GPA, but good SAT scores. He may have to take a semester or two of 'gen eds' to prove himself to get into the competitive program that he wants. He wants to get a degree in scientific glass technology. He is also planning on getting a second degree in glass art and combine the two for a career in glass art. They are both associates degrees- so he's looking at 4 years of school. It's so good to see him pursuing something like this- focused, goal oriented, motivated.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
break that will
Hi Maggie,
It's nice to have you back. I hope you are having a joyful birthday dinner out with B-in-law and as many kids as you could gather.
Having your foster son's mother die has added a new layer to all of the emotions involved with this case. Now they do know, though, that going back to Mom is not a possibility. I don't know if it was, but I think kids sort of harbor that wish in their heart. Adults harbor the same wish...for mama to come back and rescue us and prove we are loveable.
I remember Dad saying that if we told us we couldn't, we would prove that we could. I suppose that theory of child-rearing could be used, but it would have to be gentle and playful. Unfortunately he came at us with a battering ram. And you are the only kid it worked on. You decided to show him and become a doctor, just as you announced when you were 7 years old. I have often wondered how you knew, why you were so sure, and where you found the strength to thumb your nose at him and do what you felt destined to do. None of the rest of us did that. In fact, here I am, almost 60, wondering what I am going to be when I grow up.
I was also impressed that you defined the parenting style as "breaking the will of the child." I never quite got there. I just made it to - I'm going to do it different. S#3 sometimes says that when she doesn't know quite what to do, she considered what Dad did, and she does the opposite.
Tonight I am going to sit with the query; Is my will broken?
It is hard having teenagers. It's just hard. They are so sure they are right, and we can see just how much they don't know. To avoid being like Dad, I negotiated with mine. I also learned that if I commanded, they snuck around behind my back. If we negotiated, they generally honored our agreement. But I had moments of pure exasperation, where behind the cool facade I was shrieking, "Aughhhhh-----just do what I say!!!!!"
I have been very upset lately, considering the way women are treated, looking at the damage inflicted on me by this culture...wondering what life would be like if I had ever been valued or treasured -- if any woman had been valued or treasured. I am seeing it in the world and watching and analyzing what it did to me, and looking at me, and seeing it's not an unusual story...raised in violence, face violence in the world, retreat and be half dead before death is even close...
Such a waste of half the species...
Working some evening hours, possibly until May. So I am tired...my usual complaint!!
Love and hugs from Clare
It's nice to have you back. I hope you are having a joyful birthday dinner out with B-in-law and as many kids as you could gather.
Having your foster son's mother die has added a new layer to all of the emotions involved with this case. Now they do know, though, that going back to Mom is not a possibility. I don't know if it was, but I think kids sort of harbor that wish in their heart. Adults harbor the same wish...for mama to come back and rescue us and prove we are loveable.
I remember Dad saying that if we told us we couldn't, we would prove that we could. I suppose that theory of child-rearing could be used, but it would have to be gentle and playful. Unfortunately he came at us with a battering ram. And you are the only kid it worked on. You decided to show him and become a doctor, just as you announced when you were 7 years old. I have often wondered how you knew, why you were so sure, and where you found the strength to thumb your nose at him and do what you felt destined to do. None of the rest of us did that. In fact, here I am, almost 60, wondering what I am going to be when I grow up.
I was also impressed that you defined the parenting style as "breaking the will of the child." I never quite got there. I just made it to - I'm going to do it different. S#3 sometimes says that when she doesn't know quite what to do, she considered what Dad did, and she does the opposite.
Tonight I am going to sit with the query; Is my will broken?
It is hard having teenagers. It's just hard. They are so sure they are right, and we can see just how much they don't know. To avoid being like Dad, I negotiated with mine. I also learned that if I commanded, they snuck around behind my back. If we negotiated, they generally honored our agreement. But I had moments of pure exasperation, where behind the cool facade I was shrieking, "Aughhhhh-----just do what I say!!!!!"
I have been very upset lately, considering the way women are treated, looking at the damage inflicted on me by this culture...wondering what life would be like if I had ever been valued or treasured -- if any woman had been valued or treasured. I am seeing it in the world and watching and analyzing what it did to me, and looking at me, and seeing it's not an unusual story...raised in violence, face violence in the world, retreat and be half dead before death is even close...
Such a waste of half the species...
Working some evening hours, possibly until May. So I am tired...my usual complaint!!
Love and hugs from Clare
confusing
Clare,
The article is powerful…
we are socialized to accept assault as consensual sex.
I honestly don't think that after age 10 I have been assaulted…
but there are times when I'd rather not…and husband pouts…and so I do…
is that assault? coercion? consensual?
It's very confusing.
It's confusing because females have been taught to comply with men's desires.
It's confusing because females have been taught to feel responsible for everyone's emotions...
carrying the burden of unhappy men, and children, and parents, and on and on and on…
It must also be confusing to be on the male side…
mixed messages of virility, masculinity, machismo…
Anyway, today is husband's birthday…
55 today.
I cannot believe I'm married to a 55 year old man!
How does this stuff happen?
I have no plans made…
my youngest took my car for the day…
so I guess we're going out for dinner tonight.
Oh well, I am still struggling with putting emotions into words…
I seem to have a block right now.
I'll be back tomorrow.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
The article is powerful…
we are socialized to accept assault as consensual sex.
I honestly don't think that after age 10 I have been assaulted…
but there are times when I'd rather not…and husband pouts…and so I do…
is that assault? coercion? consensual?
It's very confusing.
It's confusing because females have been taught to comply with men's desires.
It's confusing because females have been taught to feel responsible for everyone's emotions...
carrying the burden of unhappy men, and children, and parents, and on and on and on…
It must also be confusing to be on the male side…
mixed messages of virility, masculinity, machismo…
Anyway, today is husband's birthday…
55 today.
I cannot believe I'm married to a 55 year old man!
How does this stuff happen?
I have no plans made…
my youngest took my car for the day…
so I guess we're going out for dinner tonight.
Oh well, I am still struggling with putting emotions into words…
I seem to have a block right now.
I'll be back tomorrow.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Monday, February 22, 2016
conflicting emotions
Clare,
I'm sorry, I've been AWOL…
it's been an challenging weekend.
We had the older young man this weekend, the younger was grounded. As I picked them up I was met by two staff members who solemnly told me the young men's mother passed away last week. Ir was a weekend of reflection, some emotions, but not a lot. It is hard to read the emotional reaction. They will need to work through this over time.
I read your posts and feel overwhelmed by your anger and frustration.
We were raised to be "less than"…
I think the parents thought that would be prepare us to not expect too much or be disappointed-
or hurt…
the bottom line is that that kind of rearing is hurtful.
I am trying to make sense of your last 3 posts, but am overwhelmed by my own household…
sons who are fighting for independence and power…
starting a new job…
taking on new children…
trying to maintain a relationship that grows with husband…
sometimes I feel like "stop the world I want to get off".
I am tired of fighting and trying to convince people to do the right thing.
I'm tired of being disrespected by my own kids.
I'm afraid I am turning into papa Delana- ready to be done- sick of trying.
I promised myself I would not break the will of my children…
I would allow them to grow and become fully who they are meant to be…
and yet their strong personalities frustrate me at times.
Sorry, I'm in a tough place tonight…
conflicting emotions and no where to go with them.
I hate indecision…
I have to find a way to surrender this.
I have to find a way to come to terms with the demands.
or I'll break down.
I'll be back tomorrow.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
I'm sorry, I've been AWOL…
it's been an challenging weekend.
We had the older young man this weekend, the younger was grounded. As I picked them up I was met by two staff members who solemnly told me the young men's mother passed away last week. Ir was a weekend of reflection, some emotions, but not a lot. It is hard to read the emotional reaction. They will need to work through this over time.
I read your posts and feel overwhelmed by your anger and frustration.
We were raised to be "less than"…
I think the parents thought that would be prepare us to not expect too much or be disappointed-
or hurt…
the bottom line is that that kind of rearing is hurtful.
I am trying to make sense of your last 3 posts, but am overwhelmed by my own household…
sons who are fighting for independence and power…
starting a new job…
taking on new children…
trying to maintain a relationship that grows with husband…
sometimes I feel like "stop the world I want to get off".
I am tired of fighting and trying to convince people to do the right thing.
I'm tired of being disrespected by my own kids.
I'm afraid I am turning into papa Delana- ready to be done- sick of trying.
I promised myself I would not break the will of my children…
I would allow them to grow and become fully who they are meant to be…
and yet their strong personalities frustrate me at times.
Sorry, I'm in a tough place tonight…
conflicting emotions and no where to go with them.
I hate indecision…
I have to find a way to surrender this.
I have to find a way to come to terms with the demands.
or I'll break down.
I'll be back tomorrow.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Saturday, February 20, 2016
looooonnng night
Rather sleepless night...
Lost in thought...the older I get the more I realize how much the damage inflicted on us by our parents marks us and forms us. Everyone I talk to, interact with, seems to be walking wounded. (I heard that phrase in a movie and really like it.) Maybe we are just looking for companions who understand, who are kind and tender. Maybe we are all just looking for a quiet, safe place.
And maybe we are afraid of that quiet, safe place because we have been taught to trust no one...
And then, of course, the mama-fairy showed up with her guilt gilt and sprinkles me, or maybe snowed on me, and reminded me of what I did to my children, of the hurt I inflicted while writhing in my own pain.
Let me be a quiet, safe place for them and for others...
Drearily, dreamingly, tiredly, overwhelmingly Clare
Lost in thought...the older I get the more I realize how much the damage inflicted on us by our parents marks us and forms us. Everyone I talk to, interact with, seems to be walking wounded. (I heard that phrase in a movie and really like it.) Maybe we are just looking for companions who understand, who are kind and tender. Maybe we are all just looking for a quiet, safe place.
And maybe we are afraid of that quiet, safe place because we have been taught to trust no one...
And then, of course, the mama-fairy showed up with her guilt gilt and sprinkles me, or maybe snowed on me, and reminded me of what I did to my children, of the hurt I inflicted while writhing in my own pain.
Let me be a quiet, safe place for them and for others...
Drearily, dreamingly, tiredly, overwhelmingly Clare
Friday, February 19, 2016
more, more, more
Hi Maggie,
Happy Friday. Twenty-nine years ago, right now, I was in labor with a boy who was three weeks late. His was an easy delivery - only five hours - and I was calm. He has been a joy in my life...
As predicted, I have been rereading the piece I shared yesterday. And as suspected it continues to bring up distress. Tears started flowing today as I read it a second time.
The parts that are poking at me are - being alone, I am no longer in pain. The writer says she is filled with clarity because she is no longer in pain.
I know I am more loving with kids and grandkids and abused dogs and cats who appear in my life. I am more loving because there is no illusion of love confusing me about what the truths are in my life. I have said, many times, that one of the strongest lessons gained from my marriage is that if someone say they love you, but they don't behave in a loving manner, then they don't really love you - all loving words and gestures aside - it's not authentic.
Spending time with someone who says those words and is basically unable to actually follow through and love another...no - to love me -- it is crazy making. And it made me feel unlovable - because of course, I chose someone like this to ...I don't know...prove Dad right...prove Dad wrong...prove...what...I don't know...to prove that I am not lovable and so the harshness from childhood was warranted...to prove that I am not worth more than this, just like Sister said, just like Mom alluded to...
Being alone - there is no confusion. But there is a big something missing.
Which loops back to the paragraph about not desiring sex or touch. This connects to my anxiety about getting a massage...I desire sex, but I don't desire pain.
Why are they linked in my brain. Why do the writer's words, when she says that sometimes men's behavior is simply to maintain access to a woman's body, resonate. I don't believe that. Completely.
The piece just brought make forgotten shards of memory. Being walked home by the big brother of a little girl I babysat when I was 12. He said I looked at least 16...of course that was flattering. But he was looking at my breasts which were larger than average. I remember feeling both ashamed and flattered. Could an older boy really like me? The crone me is horrified, but still remembers.
Once my oldest asked me why I never told her that men would be aggressive with her simply because of the way she looked.
I didn't know.
I still don't know.
I'll keep percolating...the wind is blowing hard and strong and loud tonight. Maybe something more will be dislodged.
Love and hugs from Clare
Happy Friday. Twenty-nine years ago, right now, I was in labor with a boy who was three weeks late. His was an easy delivery - only five hours - and I was calm. He has been a joy in my life...
As predicted, I have been rereading the piece I shared yesterday. And as suspected it continues to bring up distress. Tears started flowing today as I read it a second time.
The parts that are poking at me are - being alone, I am no longer in pain. The writer says she is filled with clarity because she is no longer in pain.
I know I am more loving with kids and grandkids and abused dogs and cats who appear in my life. I am more loving because there is no illusion of love confusing me about what the truths are in my life. I have said, many times, that one of the strongest lessons gained from my marriage is that if someone say they love you, but they don't behave in a loving manner, then they don't really love you - all loving words and gestures aside - it's not authentic.
Spending time with someone who says those words and is basically unable to actually follow through and love another...no - to love me -- it is crazy making. And it made me feel unlovable - because of course, I chose someone like this to ...I don't know...prove Dad right...prove Dad wrong...prove...what...I don't know...to prove that I am not lovable and so the harshness from childhood was warranted...to prove that I am not worth more than this, just like Sister said, just like Mom alluded to...
Being alone - there is no confusion. But there is a big something missing.
Which loops back to the paragraph about not desiring sex or touch. This connects to my anxiety about getting a massage...I desire sex, but I don't desire pain.
Why are they linked in my brain. Why do the writer's words, when she says that sometimes men's behavior is simply to maintain access to a woman's body, resonate. I don't believe that. Completely.
The piece just brought make forgotten shards of memory. Being walked home by the big brother of a little girl I babysat when I was 12. He said I looked at least 16...of course that was flattering. But he was looking at my breasts which were larger than average. I remember feeling both ashamed and flattered. Could an older boy really like me? The crone me is horrified, but still remembers.
Once my oldest asked me why I never told her that men would be aggressive with her simply because of the way she looked.
I didn't know.
I still don't know.
I'll keep percolating...the wind is blowing hard and strong and loud tonight. Maybe something more will be dislodged.
Love and hugs from Clare
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Men need to care when they are making women suffer
https://medium.com/@emmalindsay/what-i-learned-from-dating-women-who-have-been-raped-583e1001b6cd#.69wwmckej
Hi Maggie,
I read this article today. I feel like I need to read it again and again.
In the beginning, as I read, I was becoming increasingly anxious. I'm not broken. In fact I am strong and smart and loving...but something inside me is broken...
I read fast, absorbing, accepting, rejecting...
Then I got to the words: Men need to care when they are making women suffer.
Wow! Gobsmacked!
So simple, but I never thought of it...never recognized it.
Then her statement that we have all been sexually traumatized. It's only a matter of degree. And it's true. I suddenly remembered all of the pushy guys in my life, who only wanted access to my body.
It's true for all of us.
I don't know if I ever chose a love or lover. I was chosen, pursued. Did I ever want it? Him? Once I was there in a safe place, yes - I know I did. But my part was mostly resistance in the beginning.
Is it ever mutual and lovely and connected??? I wonder.
I had a very long day, and am overwhelmed.
I will be back tomorrow night.
I love you!!!
Clare
Hi Maggie,
I read this article today. I feel like I need to read it again and again.
In the beginning, as I read, I was becoming increasingly anxious. I'm not broken. In fact I am strong and smart and loving...but something inside me is broken...
I read fast, absorbing, accepting, rejecting...
Then I got to the words: Men need to care when they are making women suffer.
Wow! Gobsmacked!
So simple, but I never thought of it...never recognized it.
Then her statement that we have all been sexually traumatized. It's only a matter of degree. And it's true. I suddenly remembered all of the pushy guys in my life, who only wanted access to my body.
It's true for all of us.
I don't know if I ever chose a love or lover. I was chosen, pursued. Did I ever want it? Him? Once I was there in a safe place, yes - I know I did. But my part was mostly resistance in the beginning.
Is it ever mutual and lovely and connected??? I wonder.
I had a very long day, and am overwhelmed.
I will be back tomorrow night.
I love you!!!
Clare
busy weekend
Clare,
Wow you have a busy weekend ahead of you. We are booked this weekend too. Tonight we are taking 3 or our kids and a significant other to dinner to celebrate daughter#2's birthday. The boys are both coming along- at least at this point they are. we are going to a Mediterranean place in a near by small city.
I think they will enjoy it…
but you never know.
Tomorrow husband and I are going to see Tedeschi Trucks band..
one of husband's favorites.
Saturday husband and I are going to the Buddhist temple for a relationship workshop…
then picking up the older young man for his weekend visit…
the younger had a bad week so he's grounded.
Sunday is the usual…
Meeting for me-church for husband…
hang out and try to rest up for the next week.
I didn't sleep well last night…
I didn't fall asleep until about 1 am…
then had several wake ups…
I woke up at 5:45 and felt like I hadn't slept at all.
My youngest passed his driver's license test yesterday…
maybe that's why I couldn't sleep.
I've got a bunch of stuff to finish here. I will check in tomorrow.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Wow you have a busy weekend ahead of you. We are booked this weekend too. Tonight we are taking 3 or our kids and a significant other to dinner to celebrate daughter#2's birthday. The boys are both coming along- at least at this point they are. we are going to a Mediterranean place in a near by small city.
I think they will enjoy it…
but you never know.
Tomorrow husband and I are going to see Tedeschi Trucks band..
one of husband's favorites.
Saturday husband and I are going to the Buddhist temple for a relationship workshop…
then picking up the older young man for his weekend visit…
the younger had a bad week so he's grounded.
Sunday is the usual…
Meeting for me-church for husband…
hang out and try to rest up for the next week.
I didn't sleep well last night…
I didn't fall asleep until about 1 am…
then had several wake ups…
I woke up at 5:45 and felt like I hadn't slept at all.
My youngest passed his driver's license test yesterday…
maybe that's why I couldn't sleep.
I've got a bunch of stuff to finish here. I will check in tomorrow.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
naked
I know, Maggie,
Absolutely blank mind. Sitting and staring at a blank paper with nothing coming out blank mind. I think I am tired. I think I also have a bad case of February. Every year, February hits me hard. I want to go outside. It is getting lighter, it seems like spring could be near. But outside is mucky and windy and so I go inside...and want to go outside. Every year in February I dream of going to Hawaii or Costa Rica or somewhere that will remind me that there is sun, there is warmth on this Earth. I need a promise of spring...but instead, I muscle through.
I think I am tired. I get up early. Work. My granddaughter arrives within minutes of my last session, and begins dismantling my house while I write reports. Sometimes I don't finish reports until after she goes home. By the time I have gotten some veggies in her, and sung some songs with her, or done tai chi with her...I am tired. And the house just succumbs to entropy...sigh.
This weekend S#3 will be here with her family. I will try to clean up before they get here, so that the gang of kidlets can dismantle everything again. Then, a few hours after they leave, my kids will be here for dinner. My youngest son has a birthday this week.
I love having everyone here. But I am going to be tired! But I will look forward to the next time many people descend upon my house.
I think that tomorrow, my little companion and I will clean together. She loves to help.
Let's see...what am I fretting about lately? Body-shame is an ongoing issue for me, being brought to the fore by the fact that my youngest is taking me and a close friend who also watched her little one for a spa day. She is booking massages. I have never had a massage, although I think it could be very healing for me. I have never done it partly because that is not something in my budget, but also I have deep fear/shame issues about my body, and about being touched by someone I don't know. This is probably worse than going naked at the hot springs. I did walk around the pools in the buff, but no one touched me. Know what I mean?
Unfortunately, this is the year of saying Yes! Therefore I am going to bite the bullet and hope I appear normal.
I guess I'll go fret some more, then pass out and sleep.
Love and hugs from Clare
Absolutely blank mind. Sitting and staring at a blank paper with nothing coming out blank mind. I think I am tired. I think I also have a bad case of February. Every year, February hits me hard. I want to go outside. It is getting lighter, it seems like spring could be near. But outside is mucky and windy and so I go inside...and want to go outside. Every year in February I dream of going to Hawaii or Costa Rica or somewhere that will remind me that there is sun, there is warmth on this Earth. I need a promise of spring...but instead, I muscle through.
I think I am tired. I get up early. Work. My granddaughter arrives within minutes of my last session, and begins dismantling my house while I write reports. Sometimes I don't finish reports until after she goes home. By the time I have gotten some veggies in her, and sung some songs with her, or done tai chi with her...I am tired. And the house just succumbs to entropy...sigh.
This weekend S#3 will be here with her family. I will try to clean up before they get here, so that the gang of kidlets can dismantle everything again. Then, a few hours after they leave, my kids will be here for dinner. My youngest son has a birthday this week.
I love having everyone here. But I am going to be tired! But I will look forward to the next time many people descend upon my house.
I think that tomorrow, my little companion and I will clean together. She loves to help.
Let's see...what am I fretting about lately? Body-shame is an ongoing issue for me, being brought to the fore by the fact that my youngest is taking me and a close friend who also watched her little one for a spa day. She is booking massages. I have never had a massage, although I think it could be very healing for me. I have never done it partly because that is not something in my budget, but also I have deep fear/shame issues about my body, and about being touched by someone I don't know. This is probably worse than going naked at the hot springs. I did walk around the pools in the buff, but no one touched me. Know what I mean?
Unfortunately, this is the year of saying Yes! Therefore I am going to bite the bullet and hope I appear normal.
I guess I'll go fret some more, then pass out and sleep.
Love and hugs from Clare
blank mind
Clare,
Your weather sounds dreadful. I'd rather full out frozen precipitation to the mixed bag you're describing. we had a similar day on Monday into Tuesday. Luckily by Tuesday evening the temperatures were warm enough that the roads were clear.
My youngest passed his drivers test today. They are all now drivers. I do worry about this one- he has little respect for the laws of physics. I just hope he finds some sense of self-preservation to motivate his decisions.
I have been really trying to work on patience lately. I am afraid that my impatience is going to become an obstacle for me…in many ways.
I started my new job last week. I am searching for a jumping in point. I know what project I am responsible for, and have been spending time acquainting myself with it, but I want to do something for it- if that makes sense. I think I'm going to redesign the flyer. At least it gets my head wrapped around it. Baby steps…
I remember starting at my 2 previous positions and feeling similar things…
I have to be patient.
My boss/mentor is incredibly supportive, so I know it will all flow.
I journal every morning about patience. Offering gratitude for where I am right now.
I still feel like it is a challenge for me.
I like challenges…
but I like them better once they are finished or accomplished.
The book is dry so far. It is narrating from a former Catholic's point of view. It is interesting, but I have to get into it.
Today's just one of those days when my mind is blank.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Your weather sounds dreadful. I'd rather full out frozen precipitation to the mixed bag you're describing. we had a similar day on Monday into Tuesday. Luckily by Tuesday evening the temperatures were warm enough that the roads were clear.
My youngest passed his drivers test today. They are all now drivers. I do worry about this one- he has little respect for the laws of physics. I just hope he finds some sense of self-preservation to motivate his decisions.
I have been really trying to work on patience lately. I am afraid that my impatience is going to become an obstacle for me…in many ways.
I started my new job last week. I am searching for a jumping in point. I know what project I am responsible for, and have been spending time acquainting myself with it, but I want to do something for it- if that makes sense. I think I'm going to redesign the flyer. At least it gets my head wrapped around it. Baby steps…
I remember starting at my 2 previous positions and feeling similar things…
I have to be patient.
My boss/mentor is incredibly supportive, so I know it will all flow.
I journal every morning about patience. Offering gratitude for where I am right now.
I still feel like it is a challenge for me.
I like challenges…
but I like them better once they are finished or accomplished.
The book is dry so far. It is narrating from a former Catholic's point of view. It is interesting, but I have to get into it.
Today's just one of those days when my mind is blank.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
yuck of a day
Hi Maggie,
The book sounds fascinating - right up my alley. I have so many issues with the concept of god, I think I would like to imagine our species without that control or fear.
Meeting can be a bit boring until you learn to settle into the silence, until you find your center. We are planning another extended worship at the end of the month. It is amazing how long it takes to settle into that much silence, then how quickly it passes. Time is different there, once you get there.
We have a beginning to meeting similar to what you describe only once a month. We call it Noisy Meeting. We are trying to find way to invite children and families in. Our meeting has aged, and there are no kids unless I bring my grands. This weekend we are going to make aid packs for refugees, which will be sent by AFSC. And I have to find a message that ties into the testimonies. We have been working on Peace lately.
Today has been wild. We had rain, snow, freezing rain, sleet, more snow, then lots more snow. My trees are weighted down with snow on top of ice, and branches are skimming the ground. I had to go out and get firewood, and the wheelbarrow got mired down in the slop and the sludge, then the mud beneath it all. As I was and pushing and tipping and boosting with my thigh, and wobbling and stopping to stomp snow out of the way, I was mentally yelling at the kid(s) who borrowed my sleds about seven years ago and never brought them back. Then I laughed at myself and muscled my way in. I did it!!
I've been thinking a lot about the role of women in the world. I watched a video about an indigenous girl given up for adoption, into a family where a family friend sexually abused her. She was forced to be nice to him, to apologize when she was rude. She ran away and was put into a group home where she was forced into prostitution at age 12. She is now speaking out against sex trafficking. I watched a video where girls in Mexico, I think, shoot young men with confetti guns and tell them they sound like rapists when they sexually harass young women on the street. I saw one where young men who regularly harass women saw a woman on the street, said something rude. The woman turned around and it was their mother. What a way to turn a slut into a woman. That shoots the whole objectification balloon right out of their consciousness, at least for a little while.
I have been so impressed by nonviolent actions. Nonviolence is the only way to peace.
Not too deep tonight. Mostly tired and trying to get my woodstove heated up again...
I'll be back...
Love and hugs from Clare
The book sounds fascinating - right up my alley. I have so many issues with the concept of god, I think I would like to imagine our species without that control or fear.
Meeting can be a bit boring until you learn to settle into the silence, until you find your center. We are planning another extended worship at the end of the month. It is amazing how long it takes to settle into that much silence, then how quickly it passes. Time is different there, once you get there.
We have a beginning to meeting similar to what you describe only once a month. We call it Noisy Meeting. We are trying to find way to invite children and families in. Our meeting has aged, and there are no kids unless I bring my grands. This weekend we are going to make aid packs for refugees, which will be sent by AFSC. And I have to find a message that ties into the testimonies. We have been working on Peace lately.
Today has been wild. We had rain, snow, freezing rain, sleet, more snow, then lots more snow. My trees are weighted down with snow on top of ice, and branches are skimming the ground. I had to go out and get firewood, and the wheelbarrow got mired down in the slop and the sludge, then the mud beneath it all. As I was and pushing and tipping and boosting with my thigh, and wobbling and stopping to stomp snow out of the way, I was mentally yelling at the kid(s) who borrowed my sleds about seven years ago and never brought them back. Then I laughed at myself and muscled my way in. I did it!!
I've been thinking a lot about the role of women in the world. I watched a video about an indigenous girl given up for adoption, into a family where a family friend sexually abused her. She was forced to be nice to him, to apologize when she was rude. She ran away and was put into a group home where she was forced into prostitution at age 12. She is now speaking out against sex trafficking. I watched a video where girls in Mexico, I think, shoot young men with confetti guns and tell them they sound like rapists when they sexually harass young women on the street. I saw one where young men who regularly harass women saw a woman on the street, said something rude. The woman turned around and it was their mother. What a way to turn a slut into a woman. That shoots the whole objectification balloon right out of their consciousness, at least for a little while.
I have been so impressed by nonviolent actions. Nonviolence is the only way to peace.
Not too deep tonight. Mostly tired and trying to get my woodstove heated up again...
I'll be back...
Love and hugs from Clare
Monday, February 15, 2016
busy week...
Clare,
My young friend politely answered people at Meeting, "it was nice" when asked what he thought about Meeting. On the way home I asked him- he said, "it was boring". Our Meeting gathers, has about 15 minutes of opening exercises- singing and a message- and then into silence. The kids leave for First Day School about 10 minutes later. He was afraid to go with the other kids. He seemed to want to, but said he'd rather stay there in Meeting. Suddenly he said, "yeah, I'll go" and got up and followed them. I waited a few minutes and then went to check- he was comfortably seated with the other teens.
Later in the day he told me he's like to go back to Meeting. When I asked him why he answered, I made a friend there." It's a young man whose grandparents are good friends of mine. His grandfather was moved from foster home to foster home as a kid. He is now a social worker/counselor and an extraordinary human being. He is one of the people I asked for advice about offering to foster these young men. I think that's a good start.
It is also cold here. We are getting snow that is supposed to turn to rain- heavy rain.
This winter is trying my patience. Every time something good is scheduled it ends up snowing, and stuff gets postponed. This week will hopefully prove that wrong. Thursday we are going out for dinner to celebrate daughter #2's 22 birthday. We have concert tickets to see the Tedeschi Trucks band on Friday evening. Saturday we are attending a Buddhist retreat on long, happy relationships. Saturday evening we will pick up the older young man and he will do another overnight, and his brother will join him on Sunday. I think husband may have to work on Sunday again.
I was given a book by my Catholic nun friend- Sister C- it's called When God is Gone Everything is Holy: The Making of a Religious Naturalist by Chet Raymo. I am going to start that tonight as I cuddle up on the couch to avoid the cold. I'll let you know what I find.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
My young friend politely answered people at Meeting, "it was nice" when asked what he thought about Meeting. On the way home I asked him- he said, "it was boring". Our Meeting gathers, has about 15 minutes of opening exercises- singing and a message- and then into silence. The kids leave for First Day School about 10 minutes later. He was afraid to go with the other kids. He seemed to want to, but said he'd rather stay there in Meeting. Suddenly he said, "yeah, I'll go" and got up and followed them. I waited a few minutes and then went to check- he was comfortably seated with the other teens.
Later in the day he told me he's like to go back to Meeting. When I asked him why he answered, I made a friend there." It's a young man whose grandparents are good friends of mine. His grandfather was moved from foster home to foster home as a kid. He is now a social worker/counselor and an extraordinary human being. He is one of the people I asked for advice about offering to foster these young men. I think that's a good start.
It is also cold here. We are getting snow that is supposed to turn to rain- heavy rain.
This winter is trying my patience. Every time something good is scheduled it ends up snowing, and stuff gets postponed. This week will hopefully prove that wrong. Thursday we are going out for dinner to celebrate daughter #2's 22 birthday. We have concert tickets to see the Tedeschi Trucks band on Friday evening. Saturday we are attending a Buddhist retreat on long, happy relationships. Saturday evening we will pick up the older young man and he will do another overnight, and his brother will join him on Sunday. I think husband may have to work on Sunday again.
I was given a book by my Catholic nun friend- Sister C- it's called When God is Gone Everything is Holy: The Making of a Religious Naturalist by Chet Raymo. I am going to start that tonight as I cuddle up on the couch to avoid the cold. I'll let you know what I find.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Sunday, February 14, 2016
so cold
Hello Maggie,
It is sooo cold here. I got my workout moving firewood. I waited until the sun was high and the temp was at it's projected peak of 6 degrees Fahrenheit...It is sooooo cold...But today there is no wind, so it was bearable. Yesterday, it was so windy, we just hunkered down in the house and kept feeding the woodstove. And last night was a three dog night, as well as one cat and a toddler. Not the most restful possible!
I understand wanting things now and pushing for them...not that I do it. I'm still trying to understand and overcome my training to just wait. But if you have a leading, you have to follow it.
How was meeting? What was your young friend's opinion? I always feel nervous when taking someone for the first time, and I think I have a tendency to over-prepare them for the silence. I don't trust the silence to speak for itself, I guess..
I didn't think we were doing sister's weekend this year. I need two month's advance notice to change my schedule at work. By mid-January I assumed either it wasn't happening this year, or that I would not be able to go. This is another of those "trust" situations. It will happen again when the timing is right. In the mean-time, I am getting to communicate regularly with you, S#3 and S#5. I'm feeling a little less alone as I float through life. Wait and see what this new job looks like - how much time will you be away. Maybe this is why it's not time for the foster sons to enter your home and your life full time. Maybe this job thing has to get stable in your life and in your family pattern first.
When my granddaughter takes naps, she sleeps best in my arms. So, often I read a book or watch old TV episodes while she sleeps. Lately I have been watching an old program called Everybody Loves Raymond. It is supposed to be a comedy, but I think it is more of a psychological dissection. I watch it with morbid fascination. The father of the Raymond character reminds me so much of Dad. The mean remarks, the painful humor, the selfishness...even the faces he makes as he's being mean to everyone. I think it's supposed to be funny, but it is so painful, I don't see the humor.
His wife, the mother/mother-in-law character, survives by living in her own world, with her own rules, which she inflicts on everyone else. She reminds me of my late mother-in-law. All that matters is the way things look. And she manipulates everyone to get what she wants. She has to dominate every scenario - it is all about her, everything revolves around her. I'm not sure if she is oblivious or unwilling to change. But it is classic child of alcoholics behavior.
But watching this has led me to think about narcissism. Is narcissism about self-involvement to the point of excluding everything in the world? Or is it about not being heard by anyone else? About not being in control of anything? Of desperately trying to be seen?
I was talking to nephew about how much I dislike the characters on the show, and he asked why I continue to watch it. So I'm trying to figure that out. I think it's kind of like seeing aspects of our dysfunction from a distance. I'm not emotionally involved or even engaged really, so I can just think about the patterns.
I am going to go sit in the south window with my seed catalogs and dream of spring!!
Love and hugs from Clare
It is sooo cold here. I got my workout moving firewood. I waited until the sun was high and the temp was at it's projected peak of 6 degrees Fahrenheit...It is sooooo cold...But today there is no wind, so it was bearable. Yesterday, it was so windy, we just hunkered down in the house and kept feeding the woodstove. And last night was a three dog night, as well as one cat and a toddler. Not the most restful possible!
I understand wanting things now and pushing for them...not that I do it. I'm still trying to understand and overcome my training to just wait. But if you have a leading, you have to follow it.
How was meeting? What was your young friend's opinion? I always feel nervous when taking someone for the first time, and I think I have a tendency to over-prepare them for the silence. I don't trust the silence to speak for itself, I guess..
I didn't think we were doing sister's weekend this year. I need two month's advance notice to change my schedule at work. By mid-January I assumed either it wasn't happening this year, or that I would not be able to go. This is another of those "trust" situations. It will happen again when the timing is right. In the mean-time, I am getting to communicate regularly with you, S#3 and S#5. I'm feeling a little less alone as I float through life. Wait and see what this new job looks like - how much time will you be away. Maybe this is why it's not time for the foster sons to enter your home and your life full time. Maybe this job thing has to get stable in your life and in your family pattern first.
When my granddaughter takes naps, she sleeps best in my arms. So, often I read a book or watch old TV episodes while she sleeps. Lately I have been watching an old program called Everybody Loves Raymond. It is supposed to be a comedy, but I think it is more of a psychological dissection. I watch it with morbid fascination. The father of the Raymond character reminds me so much of Dad. The mean remarks, the painful humor, the selfishness...even the faces he makes as he's being mean to everyone. I think it's supposed to be funny, but it is so painful, I don't see the humor.
His wife, the mother/mother-in-law character, survives by living in her own world, with her own rules, which she inflicts on everyone else. She reminds me of my late mother-in-law. All that matters is the way things look. And she manipulates everyone to get what she wants. She has to dominate every scenario - it is all about her, everything revolves around her. I'm not sure if she is oblivious or unwilling to change. But it is classic child of alcoholics behavior.
But watching this has led me to think about narcissism. Is narcissism about self-involvement to the point of excluding everything in the world? Or is it about not being heard by anyone else? About not being in control of anything? Of desperately trying to be seen?
I was talking to nephew about how much I dislike the characters on the show, and he asked why I continue to watch it. So I'm trying to figure that out. I think it's kind of like seeing aspects of our dysfunction from a distance. I'm not emotionally involved or even engaged really, so I can just think about the patterns.
I am going to go sit in the south window with my seed catalogs and dream of spring!!
Love and hugs from Clare
Saturday, February 13, 2016
stay warm
Clare,
Thanks for the wisdom. I, too, came to the place of wait and let it unfold today during a conversation with husband. I am impatient. One of my life lessons this incarnation is patience. But, I want to make it all happen NOW. I am frustrated with myself.
To fill you in…
S#5 tried to talk to my older son about his friends here at home. She tried to advise him to leave them all behind and find better friends who won't use him and influence him to use drugs. He was not ready to hear those words. He is moving away from them now, but it is in his own time and way. While he was living with her he was unhappy at the public school because he was one of only a few white students. He saw kids with guns and knives in school. The kids spoke to each other in threatening ways- banter mostly- that he did not understand. He didn't know if they were serious or joking. It was hard to come back from the desert- a place of unconditional love and acceptance and walk into a setting that confusing. He made a friend who got high after school and he got pulled back into smoking.
He ran back home because she was confused by his weakness (his perception) and homesickness.
I am taking the older young man to Meeting with me tomorrow. I hope there are other older kids attending, so he's not alone in First Day School. I just hope he doesn't hate it. The younger one went back this evening, but asked to return tomorrow. We're going to pick him up in the mid-afternoon and having him again. I have to find a way to connect with him. He likes to head directly to the basement and play video games. I think we're going to watch a movie tomorrow.
I am officially finished at the counseling center and working at the community collaboration agency. I am slightly uneasy as to how to jump in. I have been given a project that is already in motion. I have to figure out what needs to be done when. I will be more comfortable in a few weeks once I've got a little work under my belt. The woman who hired me said the nicest thing on Thursday while we were driving to a meeting together. She told me, "I prayed a long time for you." I think that's one of the nicest things anyone has directly said to me.
I am not going to be able to do Sister's week in March. I have to travel in March and April for this job and can't get away for another week in less than 30 days. Husband will go crazy trying to handle everything alone. I'm so sorry.
I hope you are staying warm.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Thanks for the wisdom. I, too, came to the place of wait and let it unfold today during a conversation with husband. I am impatient. One of my life lessons this incarnation is patience. But, I want to make it all happen NOW. I am frustrated with myself.
To fill you in…
S#5 tried to talk to my older son about his friends here at home. She tried to advise him to leave them all behind and find better friends who won't use him and influence him to use drugs. He was not ready to hear those words. He is moving away from them now, but it is in his own time and way. While he was living with her he was unhappy at the public school because he was one of only a few white students. He saw kids with guns and knives in school. The kids spoke to each other in threatening ways- banter mostly- that he did not understand. He didn't know if they were serious or joking. It was hard to come back from the desert- a place of unconditional love and acceptance and walk into a setting that confusing. He made a friend who got high after school and he got pulled back into smoking.
He ran back home because she was confused by his weakness (his perception) and homesickness.
I am taking the older young man to Meeting with me tomorrow. I hope there are other older kids attending, so he's not alone in First Day School. I just hope he doesn't hate it. The younger one went back this evening, but asked to return tomorrow. We're going to pick him up in the mid-afternoon and having him again. I have to find a way to connect with him. He likes to head directly to the basement and play video games. I think we're going to watch a movie tomorrow.
I am officially finished at the counseling center and working at the community collaboration agency. I am slightly uneasy as to how to jump in. I have been given a project that is already in motion. I have to figure out what needs to be done when. I will be more comfortable in a few weeks once I've got a little work under my belt. The woman who hired me said the nicest thing on Thursday while we were driving to a meeting together. She told me, "I prayed a long time for you." I think that's one of the nicest things anyone has directly said to me.
I am not going to be able to do Sister's week in March. I have to travel in March and April for this job and can't get away for another week in less than 30 days. Husband will go crazy trying to handle everything alone. I'm so sorry.
I hope you are staying warm.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Thursday, February 11, 2016
unsettled
Dear Maggie,
Take a deep breath and trust that everything is unfolding as it should. You all have a part to play and your son is simply doing his. You are not abandoning the two young men. Perhaps they are not supposed to live with you full time until next fall. You don't know the big picture. You and your foster son were brought together, and recognized each other. Now you need to stand still in love and faith, ready to do the loving thing when the time is right.
If you move your son out in order to move foster sons in, then there is something more going on here...
I never understood why your son left S#5's home. It all sort of changed and I never knew it happened.
I'm glad you are feeling better. Perhaps that shows you are coming to a place of peace.
I don't identify as whore, cunt, bitch. I don't call anyone these names. But as I became aware of the way we use words to dehumanize, to make people other than human, I realized it had been done to me without my knowledge. Or maybe, without my conscious knowledge. I was suddenly aware of the effects of being told I was bad when in elementary school just because I was a girl. I was second class to the boys...any girl was second class to any boy.
There was something inherently bad inside of me. I made boys behave badly. And it was because I was so bad...And so I had to be good and pure and quiet...don't show off, don't be attractive, don't be feminine. Be good, Be good...damn you, be good!!!
I remembered walking on a street, I think I may have been near Fraternity Row at the university I attended, and a guy walked by and called me "Cunt." I had never seen this man before, and wasn't doing anything but walking down the street. I hadn't even noticed him until he slapped me with that word. And I felt like I had been slapped. I felt ashamed. But I didn't do anything.
I was wearing it.
I have been called a bitch - not often, but it has happened.
And I don't think I have ever been called a whore. I don't really understand the word anyway. I have friends who have had many lovers and friends with one, or even none, or few. Everyone is exploring sexuality in their own way. None is wrong or bad unless they are hurting someone else.
It comes to me sometimes as I watch the double standard. Girls are pure until a man touches her. Therefore it is men that are the source of filth, not women.
Not settled, but tired...
Love and hugs from Clare
Take a deep breath and trust that everything is unfolding as it should. You all have a part to play and your son is simply doing his. You are not abandoning the two young men. Perhaps they are not supposed to live with you full time until next fall. You don't know the big picture. You and your foster son were brought together, and recognized each other. Now you need to stand still in love and faith, ready to do the loving thing when the time is right.
If you move your son out in order to move foster sons in, then there is something more going on here...
I never understood why your son left S#5's home. It all sort of changed and I never knew it happened.
I'm glad you are feeling better. Perhaps that shows you are coming to a place of peace.
I don't identify as whore, cunt, bitch. I don't call anyone these names. But as I became aware of the way we use words to dehumanize, to make people other than human, I realized it had been done to me without my knowledge. Or maybe, without my conscious knowledge. I was suddenly aware of the effects of being told I was bad when in elementary school just because I was a girl. I was second class to the boys...any girl was second class to any boy.
There was something inherently bad inside of me. I made boys behave badly. And it was because I was so bad...And so I had to be good and pure and quiet...don't show off, don't be attractive, don't be feminine. Be good, Be good...damn you, be good!!!
I remembered walking on a street, I think I may have been near Fraternity Row at the university I attended, and a guy walked by and called me "Cunt." I had never seen this man before, and wasn't doing anything but walking down the street. I hadn't even noticed him until he slapped me with that word. And I felt like I had been slapped. I felt ashamed. But I didn't do anything.
I was wearing it.
I have been called a bitch - not often, but it has happened.
And I don't think I have ever been called a whore. I don't really understand the word anyway. I have friends who have had many lovers and friends with one, or even none, or few. Everyone is exploring sexuality in their own way. None is wrong or bad unless they are hurting someone else.
It comes to me sometimes as I watch the double standard. Girls are pure until a man touches her. Therefore it is men that are the source of filth, not women.
Not settled, but tired...
Love and hugs from Clare
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
still tired and achey
Clare,
I refuse the labels…
I always have.
For some reason…
even though I was molested and sexually abused I never identified myself with being a whore…
I can't even write the C word.
Last year I did the Vagina Monologues with daughter #2. The director wanted me to do the monologue about the word cunt…
I couldn't…
I couldn't say it out loud.
I'm not sure if it's so offensive because I refuse it or own it- too tightly ??
I just know that when I hear it I ask the person to stop.
My boys have been asked to stop many times. I ask them if it's OK for a young man to have sex when he chooses- they reply yes. Then I ask why it is different for a female to choose to have sex…
it's a choice, not a judgement.
They get it…
but they don't because they are confused by society's messages about women and temptations and puritanical morals.
I asked my son to reconsider his refusal today. He said he would rather change his address.
I looked at the law carefully and it is clear that all adults in the hour for more than 30 days per year require the state and federal clearances. I spoke with the foster coordinator and she confirmed that- no exceptions. I cannot ask my son to move out to make room for other young men. That makes no sense. I have a phone call in to the CYS worker for the young men- I'm going to ask if we can continue to offer weekend care until the summer when my son will move out for college. He wants an apartment (not a dorm) so it will be a year round address for him and he won't have to compromise his position. The only problem is if he wants to move back in while the young men are still living here- he'll have to have clearances or they will be removed. This is crazy- why am I interested in helping when it is so demanding? I even talked to a friend who has a little house she is trying to sell- asking if she'd rent to him. It's only 5 minutes from home. It would be a great solution. Unfortunately, she sold the house earlier this month.
I don't know what to do. If I keep hammering him, he'll feel driven away. If I let it die the young men will be without a family- AGAIN.
I turned it over to the Light today…
I verbally surrendered this in my morning meditation and trust that way will open.
I trust the divine to open the right door at the right time.
Trust…
My son does not trust S#5 or her husband. He really should, they tried desperately to help him. He feels that S#5 was interfering with his relationships here at home and resented that. He was closer with her husband, but distrusts him because of his connection with the government.
I swear this child of mine is a Quaker- objecting to many limits and controls by the government.
I am still not well today. Still achey, tired, but less so than yesterday.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
I refuse the labels…
I always have.
For some reason…
even though I was molested and sexually abused I never identified myself with being a whore…
I can't even write the C word.
Last year I did the Vagina Monologues with daughter #2. The director wanted me to do the monologue about the word cunt…
I couldn't…
I couldn't say it out loud.
I'm not sure if it's so offensive because I refuse it or own it- too tightly ??
I just know that when I hear it I ask the person to stop.
My boys have been asked to stop many times. I ask them if it's OK for a young man to have sex when he chooses- they reply yes. Then I ask why it is different for a female to choose to have sex…
it's a choice, not a judgement.
They get it…
but they don't because they are confused by society's messages about women and temptations and puritanical morals.
I asked my son to reconsider his refusal today. He said he would rather change his address.
I looked at the law carefully and it is clear that all adults in the hour for more than 30 days per year require the state and federal clearances. I spoke with the foster coordinator and she confirmed that- no exceptions. I cannot ask my son to move out to make room for other young men. That makes no sense. I have a phone call in to the CYS worker for the young men- I'm going to ask if we can continue to offer weekend care until the summer when my son will move out for college. He wants an apartment (not a dorm) so it will be a year round address for him and he won't have to compromise his position. The only problem is if he wants to move back in while the young men are still living here- he'll have to have clearances or they will be removed. This is crazy- why am I interested in helping when it is so demanding? I even talked to a friend who has a little house she is trying to sell- asking if she'd rent to him. It's only 5 minutes from home. It would be a great solution. Unfortunately, she sold the house earlier this month.
I don't know what to do. If I keep hammering him, he'll feel driven away. If I let it die the young men will be without a family- AGAIN.
I turned it over to the Light today…
I verbally surrendered this in my morning meditation and trust that way will open.
I trust the divine to open the right door at the right time.
Trust…
My son does not trust S#5 or her husband. He really should, they tried desperately to help him. He feels that S#5 was interfering with his relationships here at home and resented that. He was closer with her husband, but distrusts him because of his connection with the government.
I swear this child of mine is a Quaker- objecting to many limits and controls by the government.
I am still not well today. Still achey, tired, but less so than yesterday.
Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
less than human
Hi Maggie,
I watched the video. I started crying. I started crying because I am a whore, I am a cunt, I am the temptress. The sisters told me so in elementary school - when I was too young to argue, too young to understand, but old enough to accept this truth. I am bad, I am flawed. The original sin is being female or lowering oneself to have sex with a female. I heard all of this...I am a bitch. Watching this made me realize that by labeling us, we become the other. I might think I am a white human, but actually I am a cunt who happens to be white.
Blacks were counted as 3/4 of a person in the census back in the day. They were kept like livestock, feed was mixed and measured to maximize labor for minimized cost. I saw some of the recipes for the feed mix, once. It looked like what I fed my sheep. They were seen as other - livestock - not human.
In India, I have read, the best food is kept for sons. Daughters are simply kept alive.
When we began our preemptive attacks on Iraq thirteen years ago, I started hearing young people use terms like rag-head and camel-jockey. I knew the dehumanization had begun. They were beginning to identify people from the mid-east as the other, therefore not human...therefore not white male.
It is the only way to overcome innate humanity which keeps us from raping or killing fellow human beings.
Gook, camel-jockey, nigger, whore...all less than human. All available to be used by white males. All available to be removed if a white man doesn't want them here anymore. And it's not a big crime to lynch a black man, or to beat your wife to death.
About your son. Again, talk to a lawyer and see if there are exceptions. Or, aren't your son's fingerprints already on file with the local police because of the marijuana incident? Or, a friend who works is this area said that if your son can prove he never lived in another state, local clearance may be enough. The government just needs to know he hasn't committed crimes against children anywhere else. The other idea I had was talk to S#5's husband. Out brother-in-law will be able to share some good insight for both you and your son.
Does your oldest son know he is derailing the fostering? Or is he counting on you pulling a rabbit out of your hat and making everything okay?
So Maggie isn't perfect. You misspoke to someone. I know when I do that, I treasure those hurts forever. I pull them out of my memory to measure how thoughtless I am. Don't be me. Be kind to yourself.
And I am not surprised you are getting sick. You have so much going on. So, dear sister, how are you going to take care of yourself? You need it. You deserve it.
Love and hugs from Clare
I watched the video. I started crying. I started crying because I am a whore, I am a cunt, I am the temptress. The sisters told me so in elementary school - when I was too young to argue, too young to understand, but old enough to accept this truth. I am bad, I am flawed. The original sin is being female or lowering oneself to have sex with a female. I heard all of this...I am a bitch. Watching this made me realize that by labeling us, we become the other. I might think I am a white human, but actually I am a cunt who happens to be white.
Blacks were counted as 3/4 of a person in the census back in the day. They were kept like livestock, feed was mixed and measured to maximize labor for minimized cost. I saw some of the recipes for the feed mix, once. It looked like what I fed my sheep. They were seen as other - livestock - not human.
In India, I have read, the best food is kept for sons. Daughters are simply kept alive.
When we began our preemptive attacks on Iraq thirteen years ago, I started hearing young people use terms like rag-head and camel-jockey. I knew the dehumanization had begun. They were beginning to identify people from the mid-east as the other, therefore not human...therefore not white male.
It is the only way to overcome innate humanity which keeps us from raping or killing fellow human beings.
Gook, camel-jockey, nigger, whore...all less than human. All available to be used by white males. All available to be removed if a white man doesn't want them here anymore. And it's not a big crime to lynch a black man, or to beat your wife to death.
About your son. Again, talk to a lawyer and see if there are exceptions. Or, aren't your son's fingerprints already on file with the local police because of the marijuana incident? Or, a friend who works is this area said that if your son can prove he never lived in another state, local clearance may be enough. The government just needs to know he hasn't committed crimes against children anywhere else. The other idea I had was talk to S#5's husband. Out brother-in-law will be able to share some good insight for both you and your son.
Does your oldest son know he is derailing the fostering? Or is he counting on you pulling a rabbit out of your hat and making everything okay?
So Maggie isn't perfect. You misspoke to someone. I know when I do that, I treasure those hurts forever. I pull them out of my memory to measure how thoughtless I am. Don't be me. Be kind to yourself.
And I am not surprised you are getting sick. You have so much going on. So, dear sister, how are you going to take care of yourself? You need it. You deserve it.
Love and hugs from Clare
poorly done Maggie!
Clare,
I saw this video on social media today. It is powerful. It is disturbing.
http://damn.com/dear-daddy/?utm_source=damn&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=deardaddydamn&utm_rcreplace_3430=3812
The article is very interesting.It feels like what they are dying is right on…now there is data to prove it. I might have to get a copy of that book.
The young men did not talk about my older son's rant.
I did not talk about it.
I guess I am embarrassed by his outburst…
or unwilling to admit that his refusal could derail the whole fostering.
I am saddened by this…
very sad…
so sad that my body is now sick…
achey, flu-y, tired…
sad to the bone.
I don't know how to proceed. I don't know who to talk to. I feel that time is necessary to sort it all out…
but these young men have been waiting for years.
I don't think that I can disappoint them…
not like all of the others.
God help me figure this out…
what is the way forward?
My brain hurts today.
I had one client today. It is my last week at the counseling center. We talked for well over an hour. At the end I started to explain that her next visit would be with another therapist- assuming we had spoken about my leaving previously. Well, looking back I hadn't seen her since mid-January, and I hadn't discussed this previously. Poorly done Maggie!
I was so embarrassed that I had been so direct, brutally honest- "see you later, have a good life".
But it was a genuine mistake.
I don't have much in me tonight.
I hope you have a good evening.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Monday, February 8, 2016
just a woman
Hi Maggie,
You said the two young men overheard your discussion with your son. What was their reaction?
Maybe you could talk to a lawyer and find some sort of loophole for avoiding forcing your son to submit. There always seem to be some, if you really read the law. It might be a good idea to really read the law anyway...
Yes means yes is a good first step, but it is so simplistic. I don't think women have the freedom to say yes or no yet. But we are taking the steps.
https://foreignpolicy.com/2012/04/24/what-sex-means-for-world-peace/
I thought you would be interested in this article.
I read it and am overwhelmed. I think of all the disappeared Chinese girls. All of the disappeared Indian girls. I think of the probably millions of women murdered as witches. It is so easy not to see this, but once it is in front of you, it can't be unseen.
Yes means yes, and no means no...but not if you really don't have a voice.
It is late, and I am tired, so I think I will let that article speak for me tonight!
Love and hugs from Clare
You said the two young men overheard your discussion with your son. What was their reaction?
Maybe you could talk to a lawyer and find some sort of loophole for avoiding forcing your son to submit. There always seem to be some, if you really read the law. It might be a good idea to really read the law anyway...
Yes means yes is a good first step, but it is so simplistic. I don't think women have the freedom to say yes or no yet. But we are taking the steps.
https://foreignpolicy.com/2012/04/24/what-sex-means-for-world-peace/
I thought you would be interested in this article.
I read it and am overwhelmed. I think of all the disappeared Chinese girls. All of the disappeared Indian girls. I think of the probably millions of women murdered as witches. It is so easy not to see this, but once it is in front of you, it can't be unseen.
Yes means yes, and no means no...but not if you really don't have a voice.
It is late, and I am tired, so I think I will let that article speak for me tonight!
Love and hugs from Clare
yes means yes
Clare,
I remember a Carolyn Myss quote from the Omega retreat I went to,
"the more weight you carry, the longer you have to wait."
now, she was referring to emotional weight, what weighs us down psychically and emotionally,
but the same can be said for physical weight as well.
CM also wrote about using fat/obesity as an insulation against the outside world. I remember, at the time I had heard that I was struck by the number of obese women who were nurturing my daughter. My second daughter was a highly sensitive child (she still is)…
she had her godmother, a therapist, and a special teacher who all nurtured and guided her through her young life. Each was carrying trauma in different ways…much was manifested in their outward appearance. They all helped others selflessly, not just my daughter. But, to be able to do that kind of intense work they had to insulate themselves against the harsh realities of the world.
They are blessings to our lives.
Sometimes the best teachers/guides are those who have been previously hurt…
and know how to navigate the tough stuff.
My weekend was interesting. The two young men were not feeling well at my house this weekend. we had a very quiet day. They also overheard a conversation I had with my older son that affects them. My older son is supportive of bringing them to live here. Unfortunately, he is opposed to the criminal clearances and background checks, especially the FBI federal fingerprinting. I do not blame him. Why does the federal government have to make fingerprint/bio data files on private citizens? We all passed statewide criminal background screens run against our address and social security numbers in November.
None of us have a criminal record.
But this is a requirement.
I cannot fault his objection.
I cannot force him to comply.
But, this will have implications for the young men. That breaks my heart.
I do not know if we will be approved for them to come and live with us. I do not know if I should postpone the application until next summer when my son will most likely move out for full time college. I do know that I am in a tough place. I have to discuss this with the foster care coordinator before it makes me crazy. Any suggestions?
I spoke to the principal of my younger son's school today. I explained the rumors and asked her to be vigilant. I also suggested having SARC come and do a program about consent and what constitutes rape. She said that would be touchy because it is a catholic school that teaches abstinence only. But, she would consider it. I felt better after I spoke with her. I am not a secret keeper. I am a Light Bearer.
California has a law (passed in 2014) that specifically states "Yes means Yes". Consent has to be affirmed by all parties. Many universities have adopted this same policy. My university uses the Yes means Yes policy. We have a campaign right now "green dots" all over the school…reminding that all parties have to give a "green light" before sex is considered consensual- otherwise it's rape.
I spoke with B#4 today…
he had a clean check up at the doctor's today…
he's cancer free…
he was so excited.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
I remember a Carolyn Myss quote from the Omega retreat I went to,
"the more weight you carry, the longer you have to wait."
now, she was referring to emotional weight, what weighs us down psychically and emotionally,
but the same can be said for physical weight as well.
CM also wrote about using fat/obesity as an insulation against the outside world. I remember, at the time I had heard that I was struck by the number of obese women who were nurturing my daughter. My second daughter was a highly sensitive child (she still is)…
she had her godmother, a therapist, and a special teacher who all nurtured and guided her through her young life. Each was carrying trauma in different ways…much was manifested in their outward appearance. They all helped others selflessly, not just my daughter. But, to be able to do that kind of intense work they had to insulate themselves against the harsh realities of the world.
They are blessings to our lives.
Sometimes the best teachers/guides are those who have been previously hurt…
and know how to navigate the tough stuff.
My weekend was interesting. The two young men were not feeling well at my house this weekend. we had a very quiet day. They also overheard a conversation I had with my older son that affects them. My older son is supportive of bringing them to live here. Unfortunately, he is opposed to the criminal clearances and background checks, especially the FBI federal fingerprinting. I do not blame him. Why does the federal government have to make fingerprint/bio data files on private citizens? We all passed statewide criminal background screens run against our address and social security numbers in November.
None of us have a criminal record.
But this is a requirement.
I cannot fault his objection.
I cannot force him to comply.
But, this will have implications for the young men. That breaks my heart.
I do not know if we will be approved for them to come and live with us. I do not know if I should postpone the application until next summer when my son will most likely move out for full time college. I do know that I am in a tough place. I have to discuss this with the foster care coordinator before it makes me crazy. Any suggestions?
I spoke to the principal of my younger son's school today. I explained the rumors and asked her to be vigilant. I also suggested having SARC come and do a program about consent and what constitutes rape. She said that would be touchy because it is a catholic school that teaches abstinence only. But, she would consider it. I felt better after I spoke with her. I am not a secret keeper. I am a Light Bearer.
California has a law (passed in 2014) that specifically states "Yes means Yes". Consent has to be affirmed by all parties. Many universities have adopted this same policy. My university uses the Yes means Yes policy. We have a campaign right now "green dots" all over the school…reminding that all parties have to give a "green light" before sex is considered consensual- otherwise it's rape.
I spoke with B#4 today…
he had a clean check up at the doctor's today…
he's cancer free…
he was so excited.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Sunday, February 7, 2016
being fat
Hi Maggie,
I hope you are having a good weekend with all your men - old and young alike.
I spent some time working on my fat issues last night and had an insight...I had this image of creating a padding for myself, and wrapping it all around me...it is my armor. But for the first time, it seemed loving, like a self-love. Padding and protecting oneself is a form of taking care of one's self, or loving one's self. Unfortunately it damages the vessel, and also, in this culture, make one unloveable. But sometimes not being loved is a lesser pain than the pain of being abused.
I saw it as love, but I saw it as twisted...a misuse of love. Instead of reaching out, being open, making connections which is what will save the planet, we pull it up around ourselves and protect ourselves.
I was shopping with my youngest yesterday, and I passed a young woman who was very, very obese. I felt the armor she had pulled on. It was slowing her down, weighting her down.
It seemed like a suit of armor. Knights put on the suit to protect them from the anticipated slings and arrows. And the armor works well. But if there is boiling oil, or if a knight is knocked off their horse - then the warrior becomes absolutely helpless...as vulnerable as possible. And of course, the armor is to prevent vulnerability.
Sometimes I think we see love and relationships, whether they be familial or romantic or with friends, or even with self, as a war to be won. Sometimes I think we see all of life as a war.
And as long as we are in this mindset, no one wins...we all suffer. We suffer if we cut ourselves off, or we suffer because we miss those who have cut themselves off.
I know you remember my college sweetheart. We have kept in touch all these more than 40 years - some letters, then to email and social media. Last night we Skyped for the first time. It was so...I don't know the words to use...sweet, sentimental, cozy...to see his face as we talked. We have aged - there is no missing that. Yet I still see us as we were. That may be the gift of old, old friends. We talked about politics and family - a lot like with my ex, two old friends gossiping...nothing hot or passionate or dramatic. It was such a sweet, unexpected gift...
Looking forward to hearing about your weekend,
Love and hugs from Clare
I hope you are having a good weekend with all your men - old and young alike.
I spent some time working on my fat issues last night and had an insight...I had this image of creating a padding for myself, and wrapping it all around me...it is my armor. But for the first time, it seemed loving, like a self-love. Padding and protecting oneself is a form of taking care of one's self, or loving one's self. Unfortunately it damages the vessel, and also, in this culture, make one unloveable. But sometimes not being loved is a lesser pain than the pain of being abused.
I saw it as love, but I saw it as twisted...a misuse of love. Instead of reaching out, being open, making connections which is what will save the planet, we pull it up around ourselves and protect ourselves.
I was shopping with my youngest yesterday, and I passed a young woman who was very, very obese. I felt the armor she had pulled on. It was slowing her down, weighting her down.
It seemed like a suit of armor. Knights put on the suit to protect them from the anticipated slings and arrows. And the armor works well. But if there is boiling oil, or if a knight is knocked off their horse - then the warrior becomes absolutely helpless...as vulnerable as possible. And of course, the armor is to prevent vulnerability.
Sometimes I think we see love and relationships, whether they be familial or romantic or with friends, or even with self, as a war to be won. Sometimes I think we see all of life as a war.
And as long as we are in this mindset, no one wins...we all suffer. We suffer if we cut ourselves off, or we suffer because we miss those who have cut themselves off.
I know you remember my college sweetheart. We have kept in touch all these more than 40 years - some letters, then to email and social media. Last night we Skyped for the first time. It was so...I don't know the words to use...sweet, sentimental, cozy...to see his face as we talked. We have aged - there is no missing that. Yet I still see us as we were. That may be the gift of old, old friends. We talked about politics and family - a lot like with my ex, two old friends gossiping...nothing hot or passionate or dramatic. It was such a sweet, unexpected gift...
Looking forward to hearing about your weekend,
Love and hugs from Clare
Friday, February 5, 2016
Light!!!!!
Hi Maggie -
I say identify him. Don't protect the rapist. Women aren't protected. I remember incidences like this at school, and we all had to be so careful because we might destroy a budding young career, we might destroy his life. No one ever says that about young women. Instead, we wonder what we did to deserve it.
Identify him. Make sure everyone knows. Tape him bragging and share it publicly - do something that can not be silenced.
Slime exists in the dark. It slips away, evades, remains shadowed...Turn on the LIGHT!
I just read an article a few hours ago - it was about a young woman who was raped by a fellow student. He was bragging about their hooking up. She was nauseated until the thought struck her - what if he doesn't know it was rape.
We've been hearing that No means NO! But that has to change, and it seems it is, to Yes means YES. She was wondering if he took her immobilization as consent. But that is what happens to prey animals in nature. A predator grabs them, they freeze. That is what happened to me. I said no, I protested, then I froze. I was trained to be prey. That was a lesson of being female in our home.
Be good.
Be nice.
Be obedient.
In the absence of a clear and conscious and sober and straight YES...it means NO!
I couldn't sleep last night, and so I tried to find my hiding little girl. I can't find her - but more about that in a minute. What I found was two big green slimy disks - one in each inner thigh. They are holding my fat on my body, helping me to hide.
I asked why in my thighs...
...because this is the part of myself that I hated the most. I always thought my thighs were too fat. I always felt that I was ugly, deformed, not good enough.
Then I remembered two different lovers at two different times telling me that my body was perfect, except the tops of my thighs. At the time, I accepted their critique. I agreed. I was imperfect. I was not good enough...But last night, finally, after all these years, I got mad. Really? Men are allowed to criticize our bodies, comparing us to an airbrushed babe in Playboy and finding fault with the real woman willing to climb into their bed? And you know what? I never commented on their bodies. I never compared. I never looked for imperfection. I never thought I had that right. Neither of them were perfect.
But they were men, and so it never dawned on me that there was anything inappropriate with this exchange. I was just grateful that they accepted such imperfection.
So I laid in bed and thought about my imperfect thighs. I thought about all of the things I have lifted, carried, endured - because of the strength in my thighs. My thighs are strong. They are still strong.
In the shower this evening, I looked at my thighs and told them they are beautiful. And a voice in my own head asked me if I knew what I was saying. YES! My thighs may still not belong in Playboy, but who cares. My thighs are beautiful!
And so I am working on it. The work stems from righteous indignation.
But the root might still be- I'm not good enough to be loved.
So, I was looking for the little girl, hiding, waiting...just waiting.
And I remembered an incident. When Dad left for the extended stay you mentioned above, we moved north again, and moved in with Grammy. Aunt S was married and lived nearby. Aunt T was on the west coast. Aunt J was in school, as were both uncles I believe. Uncle J was home a lot. His ex frequently took the younger two kids and went to some relative far away. So Cousin M was living with Grammy too. She watched him while his dad was earning his master's. It was chaotic.
One evening Grammy made chili for dinner. I think she miscounted the bowls. I came to the table and I was the one who didn't get a bowl. Uncle J told me there was not enough food for me, I wasn't going to have any. A healthy kid who trusted family would have laughed. I started crying and left the dining room. I went upstairs and got under a bed and sobbed. It took Uncle J quite a while to find me, but when he did he pulled me out and talked me into coming back downstairs.
I didn't want to. I didn't want to eat. I was so humiliated I just wanted to be left under that bed.
So that's who I am looking for. Someone who has an extraordinary ability to be very, very quiet.
Still having fun with love as chocolate pudding every night!!!
Love and hugs from Clare
It really amazes me that I could look at my young and healthy body, and only see two pooches on my inner thighs. It is incredible...and heartbreakingly sad.
I say identify him. Don't protect the rapist. Women aren't protected. I remember incidences like this at school, and we all had to be so careful because we might destroy a budding young career, we might destroy his life. No one ever says that about young women. Instead, we wonder what we did to deserve it.
Identify him. Make sure everyone knows. Tape him bragging and share it publicly - do something that can not be silenced.
Slime exists in the dark. It slips away, evades, remains shadowed...Turn on the LIGHT!
I just read an article a few hours ago - it was about a young woman who was raped by a fellow student. He was bragging about their hooking up. She was nauseated until the thought struck her - what if he doesn't know it was rape.
We've been hearing that No means NO! But that has to change, and it seems it is, to Yes means YES. She was wondering if he took her immobilization as consent. But that is what happens to prey animals in nature. A predator grabs them, they freeze. That is what happened to me. I said no, I protested, then I froze. I was trained to be prey. That was a lesson of being female in our home.
Be good.
Be nice.
Be obedient.
In the absence of a clear and conscious and sober and straight YES...it means NO!
I couldn't sleep last night, and so I tried to find my hiding little girl. I can't find her - but more about that in a minute. What I found was two big green slimy disks - one in each inner thigh. They are holding my fat on my body, helping me to hide.
I asked why in my thighs...
...because this is the part of myself that I hated the most. I always thought my thighs were too fat. I always felt that I was ugly, deformed, not good enough.
Then I remembered two different lovers at two different times telling me that my body was perfect, except the tops of my thighs. At the time, I accepted their critique. I agreed. I was imperfect. I was not good enough...But last night, finally, after all these years, I got mad. Really? Men are allowed to criticize our bodies, comparing us to an airbrushed babe in Playboy and finding fault with the real woman willing to climb into their bed? And you know what? I never commented on their bodies. I never compared. I never looked for imperfection. I never thought I had that right. Neither of them were perfect.
But they were men, and so it never dawned on me that there was anything inappropriate with this exchange. I was just grateful that they accepted such imperfection.
So I laid in bed and thought about my imperfect thighs. I thought about all of the things I have lifted, carried, endured - because of the strength in my thighs. My thighs are strong. They are still strong.
In the shower this evening, I looked at my thighs and told them they are beautiful. And a voice in my own head asked me if I knew what I was saying. YES! My thighs may still not belong in Playboy, but who cares. My thighs are beautiful!
And so I am working on it. The work stems from righteous indignation.
But the root might still be- I'm not good enough to be loved.
So, I was looking for the little girl, hiding, waiting...just waiting.
And I remembered an incident. When Dad left for the extended stay you mentioned above, we moved north again, and moved in with Grammy. Aunt S was married and lived nearby. Aunt T was on the west coast. Aunt J was in school, as were both uncles I believe. Uncle J was home a lot. His ex frequently took the younger two kids and went to some relative far away. So Cousin M was living with Grammy too. She watched him while his dad was earning his master's. It was chaotic.
One evening Grammy made chili for dinner. I think she miscounted the bowls. I came to the table and I was the one who didn't get a bowl. Uncle J told me there was not enough food for me, I wasn't going to have any. A healthy kid who trusted family would have laughed. I started crying and left the dining room. I went upstairs and got under a bed and sobbed. It took Uncle J quite a while to find me, but when he did he pulled me out and talked me into coming back downstairs.
I didn't want to. I didn't want to eat. I was so humiliated I just wanted to be left under that bed.
So that's who I am looking for. Someone who has an extraordinary ability to be very, very quiet.
Still having fun with love as chocolate pudding every night!!!
Love and hugs from Clare
It really amazes me that I could look at my young and healthy body, and only see two pooches on my inner thighs. It is incredible...and heartbreakingly sad.
from connected hearts
Clare,
As I was watching the video about the little boy who was separated from his mother, I had a visceral reaction-tightening in my stomach- and remembered that dad left when I was very young. I have been told that prior to his extended trip to Germany, he would feed me, and I enjoyed his caring. Of course I don't remember any of this first hand, but the sense of loss and lack of attachment went directly to him, not Mom as I would have expected.
I am finishing the old job next week, Thursday, and beginning the new job next week also. I'm only seeing a few clients in the mornings, so I'm going to go into the office and start to settle in. I am attending a health fair next saturday with the executive director which is a great opportunity to meet people and network. I may be going to Atlanta in April for a conference with the director also. I'm really excited.
We had a wicked night last evening. My youngest LOST it…he told us a story of a young man at his school who raped a drunk girl over the weekend…and he was filled with rage.
He was so angry that he punched a hole in his bedroom door. About midnight he had to walk…he went for a 3 mile walk at midnight. I state up and drove to pick him up about 30 minutes later. He is so upset. I was talking to my older son about this this afternoon and he became enraged, telling me about a guy who raped a drunk girl at senior week.
I'm sick…
I know it happens…
but I'm sick to death of the violence.
I am relieved that my men are so opposed to this…
that they understand the violation…
but their response is one of further violence…
beating the other young man up, instead of getting them help.
I am going to quietly speak to the principal of the school and ask her to listen to the buzz around school…
perhaps once she is attuned she will discover who this person is.
And then, maybe, he will get some help.
This whole question of violence is so slimy, unsettling, grotesque.
I've had it.
What can be done?
"Be the change you wish to see"???
is it simply an individual pursuit?
is it something that only springs forth from an individual heart?
I think it springs forth from connected hearts…
each one opening to see the humanity and dignity of the other.
I'm exhausted…
not much sleep here last night.
Tomorrow is foster parent training classes…that could be a long day.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
As I was watching the video about the little boy who was separated from his mother, I had a visceral reaction-tightening in my stomach- and remembered that dad left when I was very young. I have been told that prior to his extended trip to Germany, he would feed me, and I enjoyed his caring. Of course I don't remember any of this first hand, but the sense of loss and lack of attachment went directly to him, not Mom as I would have expected.
I am finishing the old job next week, Thursday, and beginning the new job next week also. I'm only seeing a few clients in the mornings, so I'm going to go into the office and start to settle in. I am attending a health fair next saturday with the executive director which is a great opportunity to meet people and network. I may be going to Atlanta in April for a conference with the director also. I'm really excited.
We had a wicked night last evening. My youngest LOST it…he told us a story of a young man at his school who raped a drunk girl over the weekend…and he was filled with rage.
He was so angry that he punched a hole in his bedroom door. About midnight he had to walk…he went for a 3 mile walk at midnight. I state up and drove to pick him up about 30 minutes later. He is so upset. I was talking to my older son about this this afternoon and he became enraged, telling me about a guy who raped a drunk girl at senior week.
I'm sick…
I know it happens…
but I'm sick to death of the violence.
I am relieved that my men are so opposed to this…
that they understand the violation…
but their response is one of further violence…
beating the other young man up, instead of getting them help.
I am going to quietly speak to the principal of the school and ask her to listen to the buzz around school…
perhaps once she is attuned she will discover who this person is.
And then, maybe, he will get some help.
This whole question of violence is so slimy, unsettling, grotesque.
I've had it.
What can be done?
"Be the change you wish to see"???
is it simply an individual pursuit?
is it something that only springs forth from an individual heart?
I think it springs forth from connected hearts…
each one opening to see the humanity and dignity of the other.
I'm exhausted…
not much sleep here last night.
Tomorrow is foster parent training classes…that could be a long day.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
onto something
And now you're onto something else...
Hi Maggie...
I just read your observation that we may be suffering from separation anxiety, so I found an article and found some info about co-morbidity with other diagnosis of psychological distress.
I thought, logically, about Mom disappearing annually to have a baby, the first time before I was quite a year old. And Dad disappearing for a year at a time. And moving every year.
I read about the fear of being alone, and the unusual attachment. If I had any by-the-book separation anxiety, it was from my children.
I had a flash of Mom asking me to just wait. I was the oldest, the most psychologically developed, and so I had to wait for attention, wait until she was done taking care of the baby, then the next oldest, then the next...I feel like I am still waiting. Yeah, I'm feeling the tears.
You are onto something.
I feel like I took the separation anxiety and flipped it. I have an amazing capacity to be alone. I have an amazing capacity to avoid crowds.
Maybe I believe it will never be my turn, and so I have given up...yeah, tears...tears and pain...
I wonder where that self, that poor little sad baby-girl is hiding inside me...
When my kids were babes, I read a lot about attachment parenting, about the ways indigenous people raised their children. I know the culture we are in is violence based, and I just wanted something different.
My instincts were good, but I was betrayed by family patterns, and the violence-generated genetic and psychological changes. I was so arrogant. I really thought I could do better. But I was just as damaged as Mom and Dad.
Feeling really sad...
Are you starting with both boys? What's the plan?
Courage, my sister!
Love and hugs from Clare
Hi Maggie...
I just read your observation that we may be suffering from separation anxiety, so I found an article and found some info about co-morbidity with other diagnosis of psychological distress.
I thought, logically, about Mom disappearing annually to have a baby, the first time before I was quite a year old. And Dad disappearing for a year at a time. And moving every year.
I read about the fear of being alone, and the unusual attachment. If I had any by-the-book separation anxiety, it was from my children.
I had a flash of Mom asking me to just wait. I was the oldest, the most psychologically developed, and so I had to wait for attention, wait until she was done taking care of the baby, then the next oldest, then the next...I feel like I am still waiting. Yeah, I'm feeling the tears.
You are onto something.
I feel like I took the separation anxiety and flipped it. I have an amazing capacity to be alone. I have an amazing capacity to avoid crowds.
Maybe I believe it will never be my turn, and so I have given up...yeah, tears...tears and pain...
I wonder where that self, that poor little sad baby-girl is hiding inside me...
When my kids were babes, I read a lot about attachment parenting, about the ways indigenous people raised their children. I know the culture we are in is violence based, and I just wanted something different.
My instincts were good, but I was betrayed by family patterns, and the violence-generated genetic and psychological changes. I was so arrogant. I really thought I could do better. But I was just as damaged as Mom and Dad.
Feeling really sad...
Are you starting with both boys? What's the plan?
Courage, my sister!
Love and hugs from Clare
separation anxiety
Clare,
It is interesting how each child is differently attached to me…
to us (husband and I).
Those differences were amplified when we were separated a few years back. I think they played us against each other. But, one of the things that kept us talking was the kids…
what they needed…
what trouble they'd gotten into…
even something really nice occasionally.
I am amazed how different 4 biologically related people can be…
but then again look at the 9 of us…
very different in many aspects.
I saw a video yesterday of a 16 month old boy placed in a residential nursery for 9 days while his mother delivered a second baby…
it was from the UK in 1940s.
They followed the regression of this little boy on film…
crying, cuddling teddy bears, tantrums, shutting down, not eating, not sleeping, clinging onto the workers…
when mom returned he wouldn't even look at her for an extended period of time. When he finally looked at her it was so painful.
The course instructor talked about how kids are often being separated from their parents…
one of your passions…
and how this is probably forgotten as an adult…
but manifested as a separation anxiety with the spouse.
I can attest to that one…
husband makes the most painful comments when I'm leaving home for a period of time…
he means well, telling how much he'll miss me and doesn't know what he'll do…
but it makes me feel guilty.
How are we all functioning with a degree of separation anxiety in this crazy society?
It would be interesting to tease that out sometime.
Our papa rework is almost complete for the young men's foster care application. We are doing an all day training this weekend. It looks like weekend overnight visits are going to start next weekend. It's exciting, and frightening at the same time.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
It is interesting how each child is differently attached to me…
to us (husband and I).
Those differences were amplified when we were separated a few years back. I think they played us against each other. But, one of the things that kept us talking was the kids…
what they needed…
what trouble they'd gotten into…
even something really nice occasionally.
I am amazed how different 4 biologically related people can be…
but then again look at the 9 of us…
very different in many aspects.
I saw a video yesterday of a 16 month old boy placed in a residential nursery for 9 days while his mother delivered a second baby…
it was from the UK in 1940s.
They followed the regression of this little boy on film…
crying, cuddling teddy bears, tantrums, shutting down, not eating, not sleeping, clinging onto the workers…
when mom returned he wouldn't even look at her for an extended period of time. When he finally looked at her it was so painful.
The course instructor talked about how kids are often being separated from their parents…
one of your passions…
and how this is probably forgotten as an adult…
but manifested as a separation anxiety with the spouse.
I can attest to that one…
husband makes the most painful comments when I'm leaving home for a period of time…
he means well, telling how much he'll miss me and doesn't know what he'll do…
but it makes me feel guilty.
How are we all functioning with a degree of separation anxiety in this crazy society?
It would be interesting to tease that out sometime.
Our papa rework is almost complete for the young men's foster care application. We are doing an all day training this weekend. It looks like weekend overnight visits are going to start next weekend. It's exciting, and frightening at the same time.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
layers and layers
Hi Mags,
Not exactly a restful day. My little companion was whiny and clingy. Either she is about to grow or to make a big developmental leap, or she's beginning to get sick. I mostly held her and soothed her all afternoon. I didn't finish my reports for work until after she went home. Then I sat at my desk, writing, with my notes and a bowl of soup.
I noticed the same groundhog phenomenon. And I also found a statistic - the groundhog is right 50% of the time.
We are poorly attached to our parents. You got me thinking about that. I think two of mine are poorly attached to me. We are friendly, calm, relaxed, but it seems kind of like my ex and his parents...obligatory. It was okay when we were there, but we didn't choose to go.
But what is different is that mine are pretty firmly attached to each other. Well three of them have a strong bond, and feel connected to the fourth. My youngest often feels outside of their loop - but she is firmly bonded to me. So everyone has a safe place within the family.
But I do get it. I always wanted to hide. I still want to hide. Life is safer when I hide.
I always go back to - what a waste. We are all so intelligent and multi-talented. But mostly we spent our lives just try to survive - no space anywhere to develop our passions.
Sometimes I wonder if my relationship with my kids would be stronger if I had a stronger bond with Mom. I reach out, or she does, but I do not maintain. Is this a form of karma?
Mom and I were close for a long time - firmly bonded. I think that was because I got kicked up to adult status whenever Dad was gone. We used to talk a lot. I think that all fell apart after you wrote the infamous letter about eleven (?) years ago. Mom asked us to write and tell her about our pain, and so I did. Dad stopped talking to me for about five years, and she honored his pain, rather than mine.
In Al-Anon I learned about emotional incest...when adults treat their children like peers and confidants. Mom did that to me. I was doing it to my oldest, when Al-Anon stopped me. It is flattering, but the dynamic is wrong.
There are always more layers to unwrap...
Until tomorrow...
Love and hugs from Clare
Not exactly a restful day. My little companion was whiny and clingy. Either she is about to grow or to make a big developmental leap, or she's beginning to get sick. I mostly held her and soothed her all afternoon. I didn't finish my reports for work until after she went home. Then I sat at my desk, writing, with my notes and a bowl of soup.
I noticed the same groundhog phenomenon. And I also found a statistic - the groundhog is right 50% of the time.
We are poorly attached to our parents. You got me thinking about that. I think two of mine are poorly attached to me. We are friendly, calm, relaxed, but it seems kind of like my ex and his parents...obligatory. It was okay when we were there, but we didn't choose to go.
But what is different is that mine are pretty firmly attached to each other. Well three of them have a strong bond, and feel connected to the fourth. My youngest often feels outside of their loop - but she is firmly bonded to me. So everyone has a safe place within the family.
But I do get it. I always wanted to hide. I still want to hide. Life is safer when I hide.
I always go back to - what a waste. We are all so intelligent and multi-talented. But mostly we spent our lives just try to survive - no space anywhere to develop our passions.
Sometimes I wonder if my relationship with my kids would be stronger if I had a stronger bond with Mom. I reach out, or she does, but I do not maintain. Is this a form of karma?
Mom and I were close for a long time - firmly bonded. I think that was because I got kicked up to adult status whenever Dad was gone. We used to talk a lot. I think that all fell apart after you wrote the infamous letter about eleven (?) years ago. Mom asked us to write and tell her about our pain, and so I did. Dad stopped talking to me for about five years, and she honored his pain, rather than mine.
In Al-Anon I learned about emotional incest...when adults treat their children like peers and confidants. Mom did that to me. I was doing it to my oldest, when Al-Anon stopped me. It is flattering, but the dynamic is wrong.
There are always more layers to unwrap...
Until tomorrow...
Love and hugs from Clare
patience
Clare,
Good evening dear sister. I hope that you are resting.
It's Ground Hog's Day…
once, many years ago I made meatloaf on Ground Hog's Day…
shaped as a ground hog…
it made my kids laugh and gross out, simultaneously.
I am amused that the sun was brilliant this morning and yet they said the shadow was not seen…
last year it was dark and overcast, but he saw the shadow…
I am beginning to think this is a hoax!!
the crap we do for entertainment!
I will have to find that movie. It sounds amazing, and I could use a good cry.
I was viewing my on line lecture this afternoon and once concept struck me that I want to share.
If a child is traumatized they will experience repetition and reliving of the experience (consciously or unconsciously)- they get stuck in that experience and carry it to adulthood.
If a child does not attach to their parent/caregiver they experience poor communication, mood dysregulation, dissociation, poor relationships, self-harm/suicide, and addictions carried into adulthood.
When I consider our family, and its legacy, it is obvious that we carry both. We are poorly attached to our parents and then traumatized with no safe place to retreat to. We got a double whammy!
I think the step forward that we made in our generation was a better early connection to our kids- strong attachments which encouraged us to be strongly protective. I was neurotically protective of mine.
I have a foster parent training this Saturday. Husband is trying to switch his on call day so that he can also attend. If he doesn't the whole process will be delayed by about 6 weeks, until they offer another class. My older son is currently refusing to have the FBI fingerprinting done- looking for federal offenses. I'm not sure what will happen if he continues to refuse that.
Sometimes I wish I lived alone!
not really…
I just wish they were more oriented away from their own sphere and could see the big picture…
I guess they could say the same about me.
Patience is one of life's lessons this incarnation…
and so I wait.
My next meeting with the new job was postponed until Friday…
more patience.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Good evening dear sister. I hope that you are resting.
It's Ground Hog's Day…
once, many years ago I made meatloaf on Ground Hog's Day…
shaped as a ground hog…
it made my kids laugh and gross out, simultaneously.
I am amused that the sun was brilliant this morning and yet they said the shadow was not seen…
last year it was dark and overcast, but he saw the shadow…
I am beginning to think this is a hoax!!
the crap we do for entertainment!
I will have to find that movie. It sounds amazing, and I could use a good cry.
I was viewing my on line lecture this afternoon and once concept struck me that I want to share.
If a child is traumatized they will experience repetition and reliving of the experience (consciously or unconsciously)- they get stuck in that experience and carry it to adulthood.
If a child does not attach to their parent/caregiver they experience poor communication, mood dysregulation, dissociation, poor relationships, self-harm/suicide, and addictions carried into adulthood.
When I consider our family, and its legacy, it is obvious that we carry both. We are poorly attached to our parents and then traumatized with no safe place to retreat to. We got a double whammy!
I think the step forward that we made in our generation was a better early connection to our kids- strong attachments which encouraged us to be strongly protective. I was neurotically protective of mine.
I have a foster parent training this Saturday. Husband is trying to switch his on call day so that he can also attend. If he doesn't the whole process will be delayed by about 6 weeks, until they offer another class. My older son is currently refusing to have the FBI fingerprinting done- looking for federal offenses. I'm not sure what will happen if he continues to refuse that.
Sometimes I wish I lived alone!
not really…
I just wish they were more oriented away from their own sphere and could see the big picture…
I guess they could say the same about me.
Patience is one of life's lessons this incarnation…
and so I wait.
My next meeting with the new job was postponed until Friday…
more patience.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
Monday, February 1, 2016
with boulders
Hi Maggie,
I finished watching Hector and the Search for Happiness last night and cried for about the last 20 minutes. I'm crying a lot again, which I know is a good thing. In the end there was a scientist who could tell whether subjects were feeling happy, sad or afraid by the portion of the brain that lit up. Hector's brain was not lighting up much at all, until there was a breakthrough and he was overwhelmed by all three at once.
Talk about vulnerability!
There was a lot of symbolism, a lot of hidden meanings. I have the book on my wish list, hoping I can buy it soon. Books are so much better than movies...
The vision of the cloaks was powerful. We were all hunched under the weight. And many of us have boulders, swaying us off balance, listing to one side. And they're black, and they have hoods that shadow our faces. You said you think we wear them so we don't have to show ourselves. I was wondering if, with the culture we are raised in - we can't show ourselves.
I think men are oppressed not to show any emotion right from the start. I found that with my daughters, we could sit down, face to face and talk. A lot. But with my sons - no way. Trying to get a man to just sit, face-to-face to discuss feelings is the root of many jokes, and it does seem funny, but it's also right there, a truth of their oppression. If I wanted my sons to talk, I worked side-by-side with them. It seems like counseling would need to incorporate that.
I was interested in your observation of the steps of working with men. I think, in general, that so few of us are truly listened to, that when we find someone who does, we do glamorize it into a budding romance. I really loved your perception, that we then take the next step into deep connection. I had noticed that, but never named it.
Using the word love does confuse things. Without the word, we don't know if...With the word, we believe, but if there is no follow-through or connection, we are painfully confused.
Went out walking with my little buddy today. She asked if we could go into the sugar maple forest. I always forget how much I need the trees.
Very tired, and so I send -
Love and hugs from Clare
I finished watching Hector and the Search for Happiness last night and cried for about the last 20 minutes. I'm crying a lot again, which I know is a good thing. In the end there was a scientist who could tell whether subjects were feeling happy, sad or afraid by the portion of the brain that lit up. Hector's brain was not lighting up much at all, until there was a breakthrough and he was overwhelmed by all three at once.
Talk about vulnerability!
There was a lot of symbolism, a lot of hidden meanings. I have the book on my wish list, hoping I can buy it soon. Books are so much better than movies...
The vision of the cloaks was powerful. We were all hunched under the weight. And many of us have boulders, swaying us off balance, listing to one side. And they're black, and they have hoods that shadow our faces. You said you think we wear them so we don't have to show ourselves. I was wondering if, with the culture we are raised in - we can't show ourselves.
I think men are oppressed not to show any emotion right from the start. I found that with my daughters, we could sit down, face to face and talk. A lot. But with my sons - no way. Trying to get a man to just sit, face-to-face to discuss feelings is the root of many jokes, and it does seem funny, but it's also right there, a truth of their oppression. If I wanted my sons to talk, I worked side-by-side with them. It seems like counseling would need to incorporate that.
I was interested in your observation of the steps of working with men. I think, in general, that so few of us are truly listened to, that when we find someone who does, we do glamorize it into a budding romance. I really loved your perception, that we then take the next step into deep connection. I had noticed that, but never named it.
Using the word love does confuse things. Without the word, we don't know if...With the word, we believe, but if there is no follow-through or connection, we are painfully confused.
Went out walking with my little buddy today. She asked if we could go into the sugar maple forest. I always forget how much I need the trees.
Very tired, and so I send -
Love and hugs from Clare
cloaked
Clare,
There's a lot to digest from your weekend.
I have to say that my experience of counseling both men and women shows some difference. It hinges on the type of relationship built. With women it's more a friend, sometimes maternal, relationship. They open up so much easier than men. That doesn't mean they don't struggle with the intimacy and vulnerability, it's just more natural for women. Conversely, there are some women who have been very hurt by their mothers and they struggle with connection to other women. The men are a different story.
Just as a preface, when I began counseling I asked to not be assigned "angry men". By experience I know that I shut down when a man is yelling or posturing in a threatening way. I ended up with many men on my case load, but 2 in particular are ex-convicts. And what I learned from them was amazing.
Men don't know how to open up to a counselor, particularly a female counselor. They try various ways of relating- maternal, romantic, intimate. Not that any of them ever crossed boundaries, but the process almost always flowed through that sequence. First they talk like you're their mom…telling details, but no emotional content. Then they confuse your willingness to listen with their romantic partners- "my wife won't listen to me like this". After they realize this is not a budding relationship they opened to a deeper level of communication, sharing their intentions, motivations, emotional responses.
I think the image of cloaking is powerful, the experiences (traumas) are a mantle that we wear- very heavy in some cases. I think we use those stories as a cover so we don't have to show our true self to others. They allow an isolation…
a valid isolation in their mind.
I remember when I first began to desire a deeper intimacy with the divine…I meditated on how to allow the Divine into my very core. During one meditation I visualized getting into a bath of the Divine…
first I got naked…
then I sank into the space…
I let it totally surround me…
penetrate my cells…
what a wonderful experience that was.
The protection that surrounds our hearts…
put into place by difficult experiences is meant to be a challenge of growth.
It's not meant to be permanent…
it is mean to be circumcised through deep, inner work.
I remember the first reiki session I had…
my heart chakra was protected and separated by many doors…
all slammed and locked shut. Guarded by none other than Dad's spirit.
The last time my heart chakra was described it was a light filled space with stained glass at one allowing light to stream in…
much better for my life.
I am still amazed at how connected I am to that soul, despite the difficult and confusing feelings wrapped up in that relationship.
I had my two boys and my two young men yesterday. I had a lot of work to do to prepare for this week's classes, so I didn't spend much time interacting, but the boys were all interacting. My older boy was in an unusually light mood- very entertaining for the other 3. It was good to see those bonds forming.
The two young men and I ran into the couple who had previously rejected them (dad's girlfriend's parents). It was confusing for them. The couple accused them of stealing from them and broke off all communications. They haven't seen them in months. When we turned up an aisle and there was the 'grandmother'. She approached them freely, hugged them, and told them how much she loved them. Then she turned and walked away…
no asking how they were doing…
no asking who they were with…
just a quick whammy of "i love you"…
with no actions to back it up.
The young men and I talked about it after we left the store. The older said he felt really homesick for a moment, but it passed. The younger said he wanted to ask them why? why did you lie about us?
It was actually a really good discussion. I am afraid they are going to be confused by the idea of what love really means. I haven't said those words yet because, despite feeling it, I don't want to confuse them. I want them to relate the words with consistency and positive feelings- not confusion.
Anyway,
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
There's a lot to digest from your weekend.
I have to say that my experience of counseling both men and women shows some difference. It hinges on the type of relationship built. With women it's more a friend, sometimes maternal, relationship. They open up so much easier than men. That doesn't mean they don't struggle with the intimacy and vulnerability, it's just more natural for women. Conversely, there are some women who have been very hurt by their mothers and they struggle with connection to other women. The men are a different story.
Just as a preface, when I began counseling I asked to not be assigned "angry men". By experience I know that I shut down when a man is yelling or posturing in a threatening way. I ended up with many men on my case load, but 2 in particular are ex-convicts. And what I learned from them was amazing.
Men don't know how to open up to a counselor, particularly a female counselor. They try various ways of relating- maternal, romantic, intimate. Not that any of them ever crossed boundaries, but the process almost always flowed through that sequence. First they talk like you're their mom…telling details, but no emotional content. Then they confuse your willingness to listen with their romantic partners- "my wife won't listen to me like this". After they realize this is not a budding relationship they opened to a deeper level of communication, sharing their intentions, motivations, emotional responses.
I think the image of cloaking is powerful, the experiences (traumas) are a mantle that we wear- very heavy in some cases. I think we use those stories as a cover so we don't have to show our true self to others. They allow an isolation…
a valid isolation in their mind.
I remember when I first began to desire a deeper intimacy with the divine…I meditated on how to allow the Divine into my very core. During one meditation I visualized getting into a bath of the Divine…
first I got naked…
then I sank into the space…
I let it totally surround me…
penetrate my cells…
what a wonderful experience that was.
The protection that surrounds our hearts…
put into place by difficult experiences is meant to be a challenge of growth.
It's not meant to be permanent…
it is mean to be circumcised through deep, inner work.
I remember the first reiki session I had…
my heart chakra was protected and separated by many doors…
all slammed and locked shut. Guarded by none other than Dad's spirit.
The last time my heart chakra was described it was a light filled space with stained glass at one allowing light to stream in…
much better for my life.
I am still amazed at how connected I am to that soul, despite the difficult and confusing feelings wrapped up in that relationship.
I had my two boys and my two young men yesterday. I had a lot of work to do to prepare for this week's classes, so I didn't spend much time interacting, but the boys were all interacting. My older boy was in an unusually light mood- very entertaining for the other 3. It was good to see those bonds forming.
The two young men and I ran into the couple who had previously rejected them (dad's girlfriend's parents). It was confusing for them. The couple accused them of stealing from them and broke off all communications. They haven't seen them in months. When we turned up an aisle and there was the 'grandmother'. She approached them freely, hugged them, and told them how much she loved them. Then she turned and walked away…
no asking how they were doing…
no asking who they were with…
just a quick whammy of "i love you"…
with no actions to back it up.
The young men and I talked about it after we left the store. The older said he felt really homesick for a moment, but it passed. The younger said he wanted to ask them why? why did you lie about us?
It was actually a really good discussion. I am afraid they are going to be confused by the idea of what love really means. I haven't said those words yet because, despite feeling it, I don't want to confuse them. I want them to relate the words with consistency and positive feelings- not confusion.
Anyway,
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie
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