So nice to see you here again. Really anticipating hearing about Paris. I hope you fell in love with the city!
I never thought much about Mary and Martha. I think our grandma was the uncomplaining Martha...maybe never expecting more, maybe relieved not to be noticed, maybe desperately wishing to be noticed - but not knowing how. That thought takes me back to the baby...learning at an early age that our wishes won't be noticed much less answered. Maybe that's the worst of the damage caused by the Cry it out method of parenting.
I have Martha in me. I make lists of what must be done before I can do what I want to do and before I can relax. And if no one notices, I don't complain. But the martyr does creep into my soul, and I can be a little passive-aggressive. Passive-aggressive just wants love and attention; yet we are taught to ignore and vilify passive-aggressive.
One thing to remember is that we need Marthas if we're all going to have the freedom to sit and discuss great things. Someone has to be the support person. Either that or we all have to be Martha, so we can all be Mary. I suddenly had the feeling that Martha didn't trust that anyone else would do what she did. I have that feeling. I am the only one who can handle the details. Yet life has taught me that if I let things go, trust, at the last minute we all pitch in and get it done...loaves and fishes, I think!
Leads me to thoughts of Patch Adams - join the person who is suffering so they are not alone...
Jeanne D'Arc was a martyr, also. Was she a different kind of martyr? Are there good and bad forms of martyrdom? I am back to altruism. Perhaps we need to develop altruism rather than martyrdom, in any guise.
Your last post reminded me of another sort of violence. A friend asked me to take over her business for two years while she left the area. As a result I was working at the farmers market every weekend, which is a great place to people watch. I saw a lot of young families. I noticed the affluent families would come through with a plush stroller, lots of baby gear, the infant perched amid lots of colorful toys. The others were the young hippy families. Mom and Dad, maybe a diaper bag and the baby was being worn by one of the parents. Which child is richer? Which lifestyle do we esteem? The baby with less stuff and complete physical access to parents is by far the richest. Yet we strive to provide things. Working for those things takes us from our family...suddenly plastic means love. It is how we get trapped in this society...enslaved by this society. I try to list what we actually need. By American standards, I don't have much, but I definitely have too much. And I still don't feel loved!
There's a poverty of the soul created by consumerism, and we teach our children young!
When we were growing up we got hit both ways. Because we were a military family, and because of the abysmal way our government treats soldiers, we never had stuff. One of the mantras from our childhood, which I think is still a core belief is: We can't afford it. I believe the universe is abundant, but not for me...I need to find a way to rewrite that message. So we didn't have the parental contact to make us feel loved, and we didn't get the plastic substitutes either.
Strange trains of thought today - It's so nice to have you back!!
Your memory of Dad's words hit me hard. Think of the despair trapped inside his psyche. I wonder how many times he contemplated suicide. I wonder if he remembers or recognizes any happy moments in his life.
Love, love, love!!!
Clare
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