Sunday, November 30, 2014

silence returns

My grandchildren have been picked up. S#3 and hers left late last night. Ahhhh, the silence.  I am surrounded by chaos and mess, but ahh, the silence.  It is so chaotic when everyone is here, but the house is alive.  And used in ways I had never imagined.  When I folded the sleeper couch back up, it was wet underneath. When my socks stuck, I realized it was not water.  I know who did it. It was the little squirt who climbed out from underneath and complained of hurting her finger.

I wish they lived closer. I wish family lived closer.

Our niece cut and colored my hair.  Aside from an experiment with highlights once many, many years ago, I have never colored my hair before.  But after looking at the photos from S#4's birthday and seeing how gray and haggard I look, I decided to do something. I took a selfie this morning. And there was the same old me, with cropped hair.  Maybe it's not the hair or the clothes or the saggy body.  Maybe it's the way I see myself...as dull and gray and old.  I thought of the old saying about putting pearls on a swine or something like that...and no need to tell me you are uncomfortable. I know I was being really mean.

The other thing I noticed was that it was really hard to take the time to sit down and let our niece work on me.  She has good hands.  She is capable, but gentle.  I was thinking about Grandma and the way she put herself last. I always have a list running in my head.  When I get through the list, I will sit down...

So I am working on my issues - making myself uncomfortable.

I was reading about your decision to say no to the screening.  This relates to the thoughts above...Too often I feel a request must be honored. If I can say yes, I do.  Makes me a good Quaker! I need to consider that it is simply a request. I can decide based both on my needs and those of the asker.  I don't think about my needs, though. I just wonder if I can fit it in.  If I can, I usually do.  So, same goes for you - a request doesn't warrant an automatic yes if you are available.

And, yeah, that appointment was meant for you!!

It's almost December.  I always want to rush through the month.  Already I am dreading it.  I have to figure out how to find the Light.  We are celebrating the return of the Light. 

I love you!!

Clare

Saturday, November 29, 2014

let it flow

Clare,

I visited my reiki healer yesterday…
the appointment was intended for both of my sons…
the younger got an invitation to snowboard…
the older one couldn't get a ride home from his friend's house in time to go…
so I took the appointment.
It was so good to talk and then let her reconnect my grids and release some very tight areas in my body.

On the drive home I found the courage to call me friend from the pilot…
to explain to her that going to the screening was bringing up a lot of sadness and anxiety…
and that I choose to not attend…
It was an opening for me.
I cried…
for the first time in months…
I cried.

I believe that the way out of this depression is to feel my emotions…
I think I've been stuffing them again.
I've got to let it flow.

Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie

Friday, November 28, 2014

slipping

Clare,

I hope that you have a wonderful time creating with the children. I hope that you have a wonderful time with S#3. You are a home base for both S#3 and I- it's good to have that place to come to that helps to center us.

Yesterday I convinced myself that I am slipping into another depression. I'm not sure if it's a reaction to the past year, my current stress, the Tamoxifen I'm taking, or just the seasons changing with increasing darkness outside. I don't want to resume an antidepressant. I want to work on this from the inside. That means plenty of healthy food, exercise, rest, and time for myself. That's a tall order with Christmas looming one month from now.

I am worried about my older son, but there is a big difference now compared with the pre-desert walking- he talks to me. He sits down and talks which is what I need to feel reassured. It's interesting to watch my kids and their interactions. My oldest is frustrated with her brother's behaviors- spending most of his time away from the house. She wants me to "make him stay home". But forcing the time together isn't going to make it any better- he'll be miserable. She needs to invite him to stay and do something together. My sons really enjoyed each other yesterday, just goofing around. Their laughter was music to my ears.

This evening I am going to a showing of the pilot I costumed this past spring. It's a fundraiser to help promote it to the networks. I've been asked to sit on a panel for discussion about the creative process. I am having a tough time anticipating this because I found out I had cancer on the second day of shooting it. I was warned they would ask about what the filming was like and for me it was difficult. I was ordered around and was trying to process what breast cancer meant to me. This was when I only know there were 3 tumors and they were all positive for cancer. It was a scary time for me. I'm not sure how I will answer the questions if they ask me about the filming process directly.

I've got to take a shower and start waking everyone up. We all have busy days ahead.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie

Thursday, November 27, 2014

celebrate

Hapy Thanksgiving.

This is definitely my favorite holiday. There is so little stress, so little commercialization.

I made cranberry sauce last night.  I remembered the first time I made it when I was a newlywed.  I don't remember where I found the recipe.  Now I don't need a recipe. As I was making it, I felt my mother-in-law.  The first time I made it, I took it to her home for dinner. I remembered taking it to our parent's home, and S#4's first husband refused to even try it because it was not a round slice of     red stuff from a can.  I was sort of sliding through time, visiting Thanksgivings.

This morning I made limpa bread - the Swedish rye bread our grandmas made.  I mostly remember Grandma making it, but suddenly I saw Grammy's hand. I felt a connection through time.

At dinner tonight, I shared a little about what I learned about our family history.  There were questions, then the conversation morphed.  We had three generations.  We had connections.  I worry about us, but tonight we seemed fine.

I talked to my oldest son before I left.  They were having a happy day.  Someone from work was going to join them.

And, like you, I am full and I am tired.

I probably won't check back in until Sunday morning.  S#3 and her whole bunch - her daughter and the four kids - will be here tomorrow morning. My grandkids will also be here.  We are going to make cookies and decorations.  We did this last year and my house was loud, chaotic, full, and it was wonderful.  The kids all asked to do it again. They are going to leave on Sunday morning.

Keep smiling. Be thankful...

Love and hugs,

Clare

Thanks

Clare,
Happy Thanksgiving.
I had a great day, feeling better after owning my feelings of ambivalence. I need to acknowledge that I worry and fret over all that is going on in my life.
Husband's brother's family joined us for dinner, so we had 13 at the meal. It was really nice to talk and laugh. My oldest is somewhat frustrated with her brother's preference for spending time with friends and a bit of that spilled out, but for the most part it was enjoyable. There was too much food- as usual. The food was good.

My boys are running around giggling with each other.
It's fun to hear them.
I'm tired from cooking for 2 days.
My body hurts from shoveling the snow yesterday.
My stomach is so full.
I am alive!

The war does rage in and outside of our selves. Violence and violation are everywhere. But beauty and peace are everywhere too. It's what we focus on that matters.

I am so spent, my brain is not engaging. I will visit tomorrow morning and try to put together a coherent sentence or thought.
Love And Light until then,
Maggie


Wednesday, November 26, 2014

WAR -

War Within
You are allowed to feel anyway you need to feel.  You can explore and experience any emotions and emotions tangled together in awkward pairings. It is all okay.  And you have a right to be frightened.  It would be naive of you to expect that everything will be perfect now.  We struggle.  Life is always a struggle with sublime moments of beauty - those are what keep us going. And sometimes we can get more and more of them...sigh...

No offense to your husband, but you have had the role of single parent for a long time...or so it seems from the outside.  And it is exhausting. I did it for years.  And not having back-up, not having anyone to listen, to understand, not being able to share worries especially with someone who was as passionate about them as I was - it was beyond difficult.  It was cold and lonely and...no one should have to do this. But the trade off was that I got the kids...I got the pleasure as well as that pain, they are my family.

Just remember - you promised to trust, but they also promised to be honorable.

War Without
I have been thinking about what is going on in our country.  The riots in Ferguson seem tied to the Native American declaration of war if the US government  tries to push the pipeline through sovereign lands seems tied to the expose of Bill Cosby as serial rapist, which is making women more aware of being prey and less afraid of outing the rapists...We are all prey...black, indigenous, female.  And war is staring on all fronts. In my region, people are being arrested every day, blocking trucks of an oil company who wants to develop the land next to our lake.  It is a beautiful, nonviolent war.

I am very   excited.  I think this is important. I am not sure what my role is, but I know I must do something. 

I hope you enjoy your holiday.  I am sorry you won't be at the island...

Love and hugs,

Clare


crappy mood

Clare,
I find myself in a terrible mood today. It's been building, feeling frustration and anxiety since last week in AZ. The more I consider it, I believe it stems from the fact that my boys are going to both be back home. I sound like a terrible, horrible mother for saying that. I really enjoyed having time for me. Working without worrying about who was getting into something or avoiding something. Cooking whatever pleased me. Going to bed when I felt I needed to, not waiting up for someone to come home. I liked living without kids at home. That sounds so bad.

I am concerned about trying to take on a new job with the boys home. There will be travel and longer hours away from home. I will have to trust that they are keeping promises and fulfilling responsibilities.
I will have to trust.
I promised to trust.
I admit I am afraid to trust too much, because what if…?

I am taking my mood out on everybody around me. I'm snapping out at people and animals. I'm in the mood to huddle under my blankets and just hide. But, husband's brother's family is coming tomorrow so I have to keep cooking. I think I'm going to do something mindless like peel apples and just listen to music, that should soothe me.

I will look at the requirements for the Woolman Semester. He is lacking a junior english credit, so I don't know if he would be eligible to graduate without making that up. I will investigate.

Love and Light,
Happy Cooking,
Maggie

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

onion marmalade

Hey!  You're back!!  Missed you!!  Worried a little too!!!

Does the program have counselors to keep in touch with the young men who have come through their program?  It sounds as if your oldest needs the connection, to remember who he is.  He is also the right age for the Woolman Semester in Nevada City, Cali.  They are probably enrolling for the semester that goes from January - May. He may earn enough credits to graduate. But he does have to agree not to smoke pot on campus.  When my youngest was there, the school had to expel a student for the first time for smoking weed.

What is happening with the younger son now that he is home and reorienting?

I never thought of Uncle B. as a predator, but you are right. I never thought that he might be manipulating or directing.  I thought he hurt, his victims hurt others.  I am suddenly angry that we might be moved to speak out after his death.  We need to know while the predator is still alive.  Why do we not feel safe when the attacker is,alive...probably, because we aren't safe. Not physically. Not emotionally.  Not psychologically.

I made cranberry chutney tonight. And I'm going to make some onion marmalade after I write this. I love new recipes. I also love Thanksgiving. I was trying to figure out why, and I came to two conclusions. First,I love being part of the very humane, long-held harvest festival. People who had to raise their own food and to be ready to survive the winter always celebrated.  I love being part of that. Second, I love the simplicity.  So far, THEY have not managed to be able to commercialize the holiday.  We don't have to send cards, buy gifts, decorate, buy special clothes. We just gather and cook and talk and sing and play.  It is perfect.

One more long day tomorrow. Tomorrow will be my last early morning for a few days...Yowie!!  I had a dream about work last night.  Actually I have fairly regular nightmares about forgetting work or oversleeping.  I watch the alarm clock all night - I am that anal.  Or reliable...Last night I dreamed that there were people here, noisy people. And my camera didn't work.  And I couldn't tell what time it was. I could see that I was missing lessons, but I shut off the computer and said,"F. it!"  I woke up and thought, "Uh-oh..."

Not sure what's up...

But I'm going to my kitchen to have fun...Love and hugs,

Clare

Home again

Clare,
I am back. My oldest needed to use my computer yesterday to work on assignments so I never touched it through the day.

Arizona was amazing- as expected. My youngest is so proud of his accomplishments, his commitments to sobriety and forward walking. He has asked to go to church with his Dad again, realizing that the Creator is personal, and has suggested he come to Meeting with me as well.

My older son is struggling. He is bored and out of sorts in S#5's home. Not because of her  or her family, but because he misses his friends. He missed a week of school for bronchitis 2 weeks ago. Then returned to MD, went to school one day and left. He got a report card, failing english, and gave up. He admitted to smoking pot again and is overusing a credit card we gave him for gas and essentials. He is acting as if he once again believes he is a failure.

I am trying to maintain an open and supportive position. Asking him what he wants from school. Trying to give him time to think about his goals. He's already said he doesn't want to go to college next year, but a diploma would benefit him. I'm also giving him space to consider forward walking- making good choices- conjuring up memories of how good it felt to walk in the Light. All the while loving him.

The Cosby thing is disturbing. I haven't allowed it to percolate through my brain though. Women don't make up stories of rape or molestation. Most often they suppress it. Men want to believe that their kind isn't capable of harm, but we know that isn't true.

I've been thinking about Uncle B, in the hospital with a head injury. I've been wondering what stories will be told after his death. He was a predator. I often wonder if he was involved in my traumas, if not directly maybe directing the others. I don't know.

I've got to run to work.
Love and Light,
Maggie

Monday, November 24, 2014

cosbying

Maggie - Where are you???  I miss you!!!

So, I usually don't follow celebrity stories. They usually bore me.  But I keep reading the Bill Cosby stories. I think I feel doubly betrayed, because I liked his dad-figure so much.  He is funny. But I believed his persona...the gentle, humorous, wise daddy.

I wonder about his daughters.  First, are they okay? Second, what happens to young women raised by a man who has such disregard for woman, who sees women as a piece of meat to drug and fuck.  He obviously didn't even need any level of participation - he wanted women to be passed out, unable to respond.

So who did this to him?  This is not normal, nor is it humane. So, we know someone did this to him. And he has been discharging his pain by raping women for decades.

How many lives has he ruined? How many families has he seeded with sexual abuse?

I read another article today where a man says he doesn't believe all of the women coming forward with the same stories. He thinks the memories are too weak, and the women are just jumping on the bandwagon.

Yeah. we all want publicity for being raped...

Another man who wants to preserve his right to rape by disempowering women. And it is successful.  It keeps most of us from ever going to the police, from ever reporting these assaults.

So these women, who were drugged, are not really victims because they don't remember events clearly.

What a jerk.

I hope all is well...

Love and hugs,

Clare

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Choo-choo

I had three kids overnight last night.  With all the time the littlest spends with me, an overnight was just too much.  She cried for her mama for about an hour and a half tonight.I am so tired.

I mostly kept my cool by digging into my compassion, trying to realize how much she needs that primary attachment. Understanding her frustration because she has no say in what happens to her.

It is Christmas ad time again, I am seeing all the spots with the very good little middle class kids in their cozy homes getting lots of gifts, looking oh-so-sweet.

It sort of triggers some discomfort I have been feeling with the bedtime book of poems and lullabys I read aloud almost every night...the stories of babies snug in bed, safe with mama.

I saw the cover of a documentary about children sold into sexual slavery.  But we don't see that. We don't see homeless families or hungry children. We see and believe the images of middle class America with well-loved, protected children.

And those who appear middle class, still aren't protected and valued so much of the time.

It's all illusion to keep us calm and blind...

I was thinking of a  game a group of good Catholic teens used to play. It was called Choo-Choo Train.  Two people were a  train and went into a room...they came out and choo-chooed around picking up one more person each time. When one had a chance, they said - The name of the game is pass it down the line. And the first would kiss the second, etc.

It seems like the abuse in our families is that same game.  Pass it down the line. But then I thought of the predator pedophile, looking for any available child - and considered that now they have infected a whole new line with Pass it down the line.  It seems that in the not too distant future, to be sexually abused will be the norm.

Is that the target?  Our society goal?  A whole social level bred to obedience to the predators among us?

Tomorrow will come early...Hope you are home and well...

Love and hugs,

Clare

Friday, November 21, 2014

mayflower update

Mayflower Update:
I read today that after landing in 1620, and celebrating a harvest festival together with the indigenous people in 1621 - after accepting their help and food, the Pilgrims murdered 700 native women and children when their men were away, in 1622. I didn't know it started that quickly - this the most thorough, long-lasting genocide in history...

illusions?

Two more days...then you'll be home.

Missing you, even if it is virtual.

I am home alone. This almost never happens. Tomorrow, I should have all 3 local grandkids, so tonight is my quiet. I decided to watch a movie, and saw a title someone mentioned a while ago.  The film was Don John, about a porn addict.  It was about our inability to make connections, an so we live in virtual reality.

It was one of those films that left me thinking in the end.  He wants "show sex", she wants a romance film.  Neither is connected to the other. The other is just a prop in life.

How many of us do this?  Use others as props so we don't have to be vulnerable and actually touch?  It is like the super-controllers from an alcoholic family - make it look good, no matter what it really is.

I talked to someone about trauma and trauma recovery last night.  He said there is a part of our brain where there is no time.  And in that part of the brain the abuse is always happening.  This correlates to my feeling that the pain is stored somewhere specific, an emotional logjam which keeps anything else from moving.  Everything is defined by that pain. He said typical therapy can not help someone who has such trauma, but that there are techniques that  can ground us in the now.  If we are in the present when trauma occurs or when we flashback, then we move it out of the timeless place.

He said he would see if he could find some resources for me.

When he talked about the timeless place where the trauma continued, I thought of you and your explanation of illusion. The trauma is in the past, it is not happening.  But it feels as if it is...illusion.

I am working tomorrow, so although I was thinking about watching another movie, it would probably be better to take a hot shower an toddle off to bed.

I hope you have a safe trip home!

Love and hugs,

Clare

Thursday, November 20, 2014

rapist

Reading more about Cosby.  I've read that it was an open secret that he drugged and raped women.  I've read that he had a comedy bit about how easy it is to drug women.  I read that this all went public when a man accused him of being a serial rapist.  When women spoke, they were not heard. Because, of course, a woman can't tell if it is rape.

I saw a man had written that all a woman being forced into oral sex has to do is bite...

Again, our fault.

I remember reading a story about a hawk that grabbed a bad natured cat.  As he lifted off, with prey in talons, the cat struggled and fought. The hawk was  surprised, because prey usually succumbs, surrenders. 

I was wondering if there are specific people who are predator, and others who are prey.  Because I know that when I was the prey, I froze.  There is something about the institutionalized obedience, especially coming from Catholic school, that kicks in.  We are trained to obedience...

Obey. Endure.  Wait for it to be over...

Is that describing rape or life.....?????

I have been talking to our nephew about some of our family history.  He asked if a man sexually abuses his own children, does that make him a pedophile?  Does it? Dad was not a predator. But he did discharge pain be reenacting what happened to him...I am speculating, but it seems to be the truth. Is that pedophilia?  Or something else?

Lots to think about...Exhausted as usual.

Missing you!

Clare


Wednesday, November 19, 2014

cosby

I spent time explaining First Nation politics to someone who is not American today. I was asked why the reservations are not shown on the map if they are not US territory.  Good question.  Probably because the US prefers not to see that.

But they are a sovereign people.  They have treaties with the US government.  Treaties are only made between nations.  And of course, there is the point that the US government has broken all but two of the treaties, and the two that are still recognized have not been entirely honored.  The government continues the work started by our family in 1620.

I guess the violations just seem pervasive today.  We inflict it on our friends and family, up close and personal, and we inflict it as a people on anyone who has something we covet.

Have you been reading all of the allegations against Bill Cosby?  More and more women are coming forward to say "Me too."  It is so hard to admit you have been raped, to have to stand and have people ask what you did to deserve it.  I really understand why these women stayed  quiet.  It would be hard to take on the beloved and wealthy Bill Cosby by oneself.  And if a woman does not know there are others, and there is no one to support, to say...Me too...then we stay silent and feel disgusted and used. We feel dirty.

I may have written this before, but I was thinking about the young Muslim women, who after a sexual attack are considered  dirty.  If all of these women, and girls, were clean before men touched them, then obviously it's the men that are dirty.  Remove the dirty men, and the girls stay clean.

Right?

So obviously something happened to Bill Cosby to destroy his humanity.  But what he has done, the lives and psyches he has destroyed - it's not okay.

Hope all is well in the desert.  Missing you!

Love and hugs,

Clare

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Mayflower time

Long day for me. This is not nearly as much fun without my sister.  I feel like I am sitting around talking to myself.

I have embarked on my annual look at our family history. You know how it is hard to look away from a bad accident, even though you don't want to see the gore?  That's kind of the way I feel.

We are descended from two of the Mayflower passengers. When I discovered that in our family tree, I was horrified.  We are from those people who sought religious freedom, came here, established a colony, then began torturing and murdering anyone who believed anything different.  We are from the people who accepted help from the First Nation, then ran them out of their own home.

The history really upsets me.

But I was reading a little about our foremother and forefather. She was the only child who survived. She was 13.  Her parents and her aunt and uncle all died in the first year. So she was adopted by the governor.  He and his wife also died, so she became the ward of the governor's secretary. Later, at age 16, she married him. He was about 30.  They had 10 children, and have the most living descendants of all the Mayflower passengers.

I wonder about being all alone in a strange place, being in a position where she had to marry someone much older at a very young age. About being given into his care at a young age.  I wonder about her lack of choices. Did she want to come to the colonies?  Would anyone have listened to a girl child in those days?  I wonder if any of that is still left streaming through our genes...

I think about the fortitude of these people and I am impressed.  But their religious fervor, their close-minded assurance that they are the only correct religion in the world appalls me.

And you know what else really bothers me?  Forefather is a word, but foremother is underlined by the spell check - not a real word.

It is late. I am going to be so tired in the morning.

Thinking of you in the sunny southwest.

Sending lots of love.

Clare

Sunday, November 16, 2014

schizo

Habitual repression of emotion leaves a person in a situation of chronic stress, and chronic stress creates an unnatural milieu in the body.                                    -Gabor Mate, M. D.

I talked to S#3 earlier today - just checking in and catching up.  She went to the geneticist this week and had all of her tests done.  She found  that you had done a lot of research and gave a very thorough family history. Thank you for doing that work.

I did not know that all of Dad's siblings had had cancer.  I only knew about Uncle B. and his lung cancer.  The information makes the quote above more poignant. I am thinking about the chronic stress of appearing normal.  It must have been our family goal for the last centuries.

I read something once that said an overfunctioning immune system led to allergies and an underfunctioning immune system led to cancer.  I read that statistically, people who have allergies are less likely to get cancer.  Is that true?  Does that mean our family is a fluke?

I think that generations of sexual, psychological, emotional and physical abuse has made us targets for disease also...

I think abuse leads to allergic response, but also to cancer...I just didn't know we could be so physically schizophrenic that we could be both...

I also think that what happens to us happens to the Earth, and what happens to the Earth happens to us.  We can not continue treating ourselves, our families, our environment like shit and escape with no repercussions.  We are sick as the Earth is sick.  We have to love each other. We have to love Dad...

I'm feeling a bit Biblical here...love thy neighbor, do good to those who would harm you, turn the other cheek...am I creating verses here???

Lots invading my mind.


Hope it is warm and sunny where you are.  It is grey here - the calm before the snow and sleet storm...

Love and hugs,

Clare

Saturday, November 15, 2014

travel well

Happy Trails, Sister!

You are getting out of Dodge just before the first good storm of the season!  Nice timing!

I liked the idea of a desert  spring. I actually projected forward to the season.  By then, maybe, all will be back on an even keel.

I was thinking about the romance movies, about the magic moment of vulnerability. I realized I had failed to note, or to notice the second step - the returned vulnerability. One person steps into the Light, the other must also do the same. It is a little easier to be the second one, I think.   But vulnerability is always chancy.

I have the baby overnight tonight.  We listened to A Prairie Home Companion.  I told my daughter I was going to indoctrinate her daughter.  I had a moment when I remembered listening to this show before I had babies.  Now I am listening with my grandbabies.  Sometimes I feel a bit - long lived.

I have always enjoyed the show, because Garrison Keillor is so good at identifying human nature and lovingly presenting us to ourselves.  I cried one night many years ago, as he explored a marriage that was just existing, because sometimes that is just what it is.

Tonight he sang a list of excuses for why we can't go home for Thanksgiving. The first verse had to do with remembering some childhood events, and the therapist recommends more time...I laughed, probably because it hit so close to home.  But it reminded me that we are not the only reluctant children of a violent family life.  It is pervasive enough in this culture to be funny.

It's funny when I consider my reluctance to go to Mom and Dad.  But it is terribly painful when it is directed at me from my children.

Later, when he was telling his weekly story form Lake Woebegone, he was talking about a teacher who was encouraging her students to volunteer why they are lucky. The last was profound - the student said we are lucky because we belong. We have a place and a people and we belong.

That hit hard.  I have been dreaming about the farm where we lived when the kids were young.  I am not sure why, or what I am working on. I wondered if I am supposed to move back there.  But that would mean leaving home. This is home.  Finally, this is home...

So, how will I entertain myself until you get back home???  I guess we'll see.

I really want to hear how this week differs from your experience with your oldest son.

Until next week, Love and hugs...

C.


fighting the tears

Thanks Clare,

I've been fighting off tears for weeks now.
When I think of my diagnosis.
When I think of my surgery.
When I heard that there was no spread of the cancer.
When I think of the events that led to my first trip to Arizona.
When I think of leaving my boy with complete strangers thousands of miles from home.
When I realized that I had reached out to S#5- someone I hadn't communicated with in about a year- for help.
When I think of the lessons learned from that first trip.
When I remember my optimism that all would be well again.
When I remember those drop off and pickups of my youngest that went so awry.
When I think of the phone call from school, Come and gather his things, he is no longer allowed to be here.
When I think of leaving him- this time with friends.
When I read over his letters and witness the amazing growth he's had in seven short weeks.
And I fight the tears because it is all so overwhelming. 2014 has been overwhelming and yet I've had incredible growth and found peace and resolution to many of my issues.
I need to let it all flow.
Maybe in the desert it will flow.
Maybe I'll shed enough tears to create another spring in the desert.
That's a beautiful thought.

Peace is flowing like a river.
Flowing out of you and me.
Love is flowing out into the desert.
Setting all the captives free.

Thanks for helping me to understand my emotions and listlessness. I needed to be reminded to reflect rather than just push forward. I need to allow myself that vulnerability.
Thank you for being here, day in and day out.
I shall return on the 23.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie


Friday, November 14, 2014

vulnerability

Oh Honey,

You have had such a year - so much tumult and turmoil.  And then trying to heal while the shit has continued to hit the fan, nonstop stinky.  Of course you are listless. You need some down time.  You need some fun.

I wish for you a magical, transformative experience in Sedona, independent of the men in your life.  I wish for you a loving, spiritual intervention. May you be filled with Light so you may see the grace you are.  And may you rest, even for just one moment.  May your spirit rest in silence.

I am still thinking about the blog I shared yesterday. I have often considered the things that have happened. But I failed to think about the things that haven't happened, or that don't happen...

I was exhausted this afternoon, and while the baby slept, I watched an old romance movie. They all have the exact same story. Two people connect. They are interested.  Miscommunication occurs.  Hurt feelings follow.  But then...then there is always that moment of vulnerability.  One is brave and stands before the other and allows themself to be seen.  I always thought the message of these stories was be honest, or you'll be forced to be dramatic (there is always a chase scene), but today I realized the magic moment is the moment of vulnerability.

So the only way to have magic in life is to be vulnerable.

Drat...

As usual, I am tired.  As usual, I am working early tomorrow morning. As usual, I am off to bed.  Last night I dreamed of being in a large crowd.  You and S#3 were there.  Assorted kids were also with us.  It may have been a demonstration.  I saw a man three times.  He was a doctor. He was healing people...we never spoke.  So, I have no idea what it means.

I love you.  Travel safe.

Love and hugs and more,

C.








Listless

Clare,

I feel as if I should print the Secrets article out for a number of my clients, or post it on the wall of my therapy room. It is powerful. I ordered the book- I am addicted to books and that seems like the next good book on my shelf.

I am supposed to be cross-stitching a stocking for my oldest's boyfriend. I have everything ready to start, but can't seem to get that first stitch placed. I made the excuse that my eyes need help, so I've got to pick up a magnifying light to make it workable. But, I don't know. I'm having trouble settling into anything in the evening. I am busy all day, then make, eat and clean up dinner and then I don't know what to do. I can't get into reading, stitching, nothing interests me. I feel as if there is something I should be doing, but can't figure out what that is. I'm listless.

What am I looking for?

I am very excited to retrieve my youngest, but there is some apprehension too. I have a lot of worries about him managing his time well with no school schedule to follow. I ran into 2 friends that I know through his friendships with their sons and they both told me how smart and talented and strong he is. I know all of that, but I know the darker aspects too. I have to let those behind and walk forward.

I have to run to work.
Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie


Thursday, November 13, 2014

coffeeless

Feel like crying, a little?  The piece below made me very emotional.

http://firstdaypress.org/the-cost-of-keeping-a-secret/

I've been thinking about the truth of what happened, and of what isn't happening.

What is my secret?  That I am not loveable?  That I am broken?  I am not happening, and I am not sure what my secret is...or maybe which secret is currently blocking my way.

Something new to chew on at night.

Smiling does deliver endorphins.  Sometimes when I am having a bad day, I grimace.  I force a smile and hold it. Soon it become real, as I relax.  But we spontaneously smile when we are happy and relaxed. If I smile at you, genuinely, not the social smile that say, "I'm harmless."  but a real smile - then you are relaxed and happy in my presence. You are real, you are here.

 I am tired this week,  I drink coffee about once a month.  This morning, I made a cup. When I heard it was finished, I went to the kitchen, and my coffee was clear.  I forgot to put in the coffee, so I had a nice cup of hot water. Like I said, I'm tired this week.

I will check back tomorrow.  Love and hugs from your big sister!

C,

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

redefine

It is so hard for most of us to resist giving advice.  Sometimes I think that stems from our own personal need to be heard.  A close friend just repeated a conversation she had with her daughter.  He daughter asked her to simply listen. When my friend started to pose solutions, her daughter reminded her - she was doing it again!  So my friend asked for constant reminders until she breaks the habit. She wants to learn to listen.

We have had a physical week. We winterized the yard, the next day we harvested Jerusalem artichokes, and today we moved about two and a half cords of wood. I am very tired. Hot shower and bed are in my immediate future.

I am reading Daring Greatly by Brene Brown.  A lot of it is the same thoughts she shares in the two TED talks that I have listened to incessantly.  I keep thinking something will spark a bit of wisdom for here, sharing with you...but by the time I get here, I am usually exhausted, and not thinking broadly or deeply...


I was more struck by the article I shared with you which said the level of prostitution has fallen in Sweden because they have decriminalized selling and criminalized buying sex.  They have redefined prostitution as male aggression and violence against women.  Reportedly, the number of  sex crimes against women and children has fallen.  And the amount of sex trafficking has really fallen.  I really like the idea of redefining crimes and even activities without our patriarchical cultural dictionary.

The coyotes are howling tonight...protesting the coming snow, perhaps...


Love and hugs,

Clare

listening is an act of love

Clare,

Connection is the key.
I have a book called Listening is an Act of Love,it's not a great book, but the title is important.
I have been presented with the lesson of listening many times over the past few months. I believe it is my current challenge- to master truly listening, with an open mind and heart. To hear another, without interjecting my own beliefs. I've been trying to do this, I've recognized the common thread of listening in many of the happenings of my life, but at times have to reflect back what the speaker is saying. Then, I cannot resist giving advice. I need to hold my tongue and let them work it out for themselves. I need to trust that they are aware enough to find the meaning or the way through.

I wonder what happens when we smile?
I'm sure it must trigger neurotransmitters that make us happier, more relaxed, maybe even open to the other person.
I'm not sure about being open to the other though. As I wrote that I had a thought of smiling at strangers as they pass. There are many times that I smile and make only the briefest eye contact and then look down again. I want them to know I am not a threat, but I don't want them to know me. I will have to watch that on my walks this week.

The dog is improving every day. She had a seizure Tuesday morning. I made sure that the injured leg was not trapped by anything that could place unnatural pressures onto the joint and make sure the cone wasn't choking her. Luckily it only lasted about 3 minutes. She has learned to go up and down a ramp to go into the yard, so I no longer have to carry her on the stairs. She is trying to run occasionally, so we have to keep her slowed down, by talking to her or I may have to leash her whenever we go out.

My gardens are almost ready for winter. Husband and son#1 have been busy on weekends, helping me to clean them up, cut off the perennials, trimming bushes, etc.

I have to start packing for my trip this weekend. I will be gone 11/15 - 11/23. I am not sure if I will be able to write during that time. I have to see if there's room to take my computer along.

Love and Light beautiful sister,
Maggie



Tuesday, November 11, 2014

simplicity

Hey Sister,

I think we are saying the same thing with different words. I understand about the edited memories. I think I have adjusted mine, at times, to make more sense. Guess that means we can't rely on my memory.

I have been off on another train of thought. I read an article once that said that parents have to remember to do one thing if they want to be connected to their children.  Researchers noted a difference in families where the parents smiled at their children when they first saw them - when they got up in the morning,when they picked them up from school, when they kids came home from being out.  All we have to do is smile.

It seems so simple, yet if my faulty memory serves, I did not do this often enough. I was to caught up in the drama in my head.

Yesterday I read an article about successful marriages.   Psychologists found one thing to look for when gauging the strength and durability of a marriage:  If one partner notices or comments on something, does the other partner engage? Does the partner stop and listen or take note.  Successful couples engage about 80% of the time. Couples who engaged 30% of the time - the relationships did not last.

It seems so simple. Be present and notice.  I oftne think the most powerful gift we can give anyone is - listening. If we take time to listen, then the other person, the one who needs to speak, if of value.

It all seems so simple. Yet we are so bruised and busy, we don't smile. We don't stop for a moment to share a thought, we don't listen.

My daughter has moved in with her boyfriend.  Life is different here.  I still have the baby when my daughter is at work. I treasure this time...but it's different.  Our nephew is still here.  we have been talking more.  And he has been a great help.  Yesterday was beautiful and so we got things ready for winter.  We put away the wading pool and the picnic table.  We cleared the mudroom so we could pile firewood there. Today we harvested a lot of Jerusalem artichokes.  I feel invigorated!

Almost ready for winter!!  How's the dog?

I hope all is well with you,

Love from Clare


Monday, November 10, 2014

Rumination

The action that created the memory was real. The memory is illusion. It is illusion in that each time we revisit it we can alter it in our mind- minimizing it or catastrophizing it. Rumination is the process by which we train our reactive midbrain to fight or flee at the first hint of similar threat. I know how much I ruminate after any frustrating, frightening, or fearful incident. There is a theory that each time we recall a memory what we are truly recalling is the last time we recalled it. If that is true then the story morphs over time. I wonder if the people who have suppressed trauma- refusing to remember it- are probably those with the most faithful memories. 

The power we assign to specific traumas is real. It can be so real as to define who we are, who we will speak to, where we will travel, etc. The balance of power lies in the hands of the traumatized, because she alone can choose to forgive and be free of the trauma- not forget it- but to release the hold that the trauma has on her. I would never dismiss the effects of my early experiences in this life. But, I can choose to reclaim the energy that I put into them. 

I don't think we can totally sever ties with family- much as I would like to do that. By avoiding people we invest our energy and power into that relationship. By cutting the ties we focus our thoughts there- even if just occasionally- and we are held bound. We carry family, generations of family, in our cells, in our bodies, in our minds. Their habits and mannerisms have become incorporated into our daily habits. I would love to say that I am unique- but aspects of me are carbon copies of various ancestors, siblings, aunts and uncles. I was writing to my youngest this morning about this very subject. I expressed gratitude that he has reached out to this siblings to mend hurts and disappointments. I told him much of what I just wrote to you. I just had lunch with a friend and supervisor- we too talked about looking at past relationships, particularly in the nuclear family, for patterns that have been established and are manifesting in current relationships. We are a product of our circumstances. I think this is my lesson for today. 

Love and Light sister,
You are beautiful,
Maggie





Friday, November 7, 2014

roots

I understand.  But the memory is not an illusion.  The power we give to the memory is the illusion. I just felt that by dismissing the memories as figments of imagination, it made way for others to brush it under the carpet, to pretend it didn't happen and it was - not that bad - anyway.

I wonder if we can simply cut the leash and detach from our family of origin.  Do we have the faith to simply float, waiting to see where we touch down and who our new people will be?

I come back to that moment when a child knows that the only reason a wise, beloved parent would be so violent is because the child is flawed. That understanding loses memory status and become core truth.

It is all so complex, and it's different with each of us.

I have really been thinking about good, kind, decent people who do things to get in trouble. I think they are desperately trying to prove the parents right. They are not good enough.  We have to loosen the leash by seeing the humanity and frailty and imperfection of our caretakers. They were damaged people, just like we are.

I don't know...I have too many thoughts and not enough words.

But I understand what you are saying, and I agree.

I have been playing with the pillar of Light ever since the other night. I have found that I can take my self off.  It's like I'm holding a rag doll with no stuffing.  I can shake that skin out, and let myself flow and beam. I am grounded, no, I am rooted. I am rooted in both the Earth and the sky. Then after a good shake, I put the skin back on. It's like pulling on tights and a leotard.  Parts are twisted and tight, and I have to bend and twist the Light to get in.  Parts of the flow are cut off. The parts that are blocked indicate the lessons I am working on.

I need to elarn how to flow even while wearing the disguise, or maybe the uniform, of this lifetime.

I made it through another week.  I am working tomorrow morning.  Take advantage of the busy schedule, because it always slows down in January.

I am glad your son is beginning to see what happened in your family.  That is a huge step into adult thinking.

How is the dog?

Love and hugs from Clare


Try to explain myself

Clare,

I will try to explain myself better.

Our experiences remain in our mind forever, they also effect each and every cell in our body.
But, does the math lesson from third grade hold power over us?
Do we maintain hyper vigilance because of the short story we wrote in middle school?
I guess what I'm trying to say is that traumatic memories are illusion- held onto and given power by our choice to cling to them. We keep them alive and present. We allow them to define who we are, how we react, the choices we make. They are relics of past events- but those events are in the past and we are called to live in the present. Allowing the trauma to influence our life in the present continues to reinforce the trauma, reinforce the identity that trauma assigned to us (victim), and hold part of us hostage. We continue to repeat because we allow the leash to connect us to the traumatic events, the violations. I really believe that to live beyond being a victim/survivor I need to cut the leash, leave it in the past, learn the lessons that the experiences taught me, and honor myself as a thriver. That's what the work of the past several years, here with you, has taught me.

I love the pillars of Light vision that you had. What a powerful reminder that we are all divine energy placed in these challenging weighted bodies. I appreciate you including me in your image.
Interestingly enough I had a very depressed and anxious client yesterday, crying in my office. I listened to her talk, and was helpless against the weight of her depression. I told her I did not know what to say to her, how to make it go away, but I listened. I had the inspiration to take her through a guided meditation. I closed my eyes and started at her feet and asked her to visualize Light coming from the ground into her feet, talked her all the way up her body, and finally asked her to imagine Light coming from the top of her head- I had created a pillar of Light for her. I'm not sure it helped or not, but I love the synchronicity of our thoughts.

I had a letter from my youngest yesterday. He was grappling with my marital separation. I think I told you he felt it was "worthless" and "pointless". I explained my perception of life before the separation, the work I did during and following the separation, and the changes in my relationship with husband. Husband also wrote his side of the story, in his own words. Son#2 wrote a very thoughtful response to all of that. Saying that he finally understands it, thanking me for my courage to step out of status quo in order to make life more real and authentic. I knew he was confused by it all, but he would not talk about it. I guess he was finally ready to hear the story.

I have to get ready for work.
Love and Light to you- a beautiful pillar of Light
Maggie


Thursday, November 6, 2014

pillars

Hi Maggie,

I had a powerful reaction to one thing you said - Painful memories are not figments of our imaginations.  We did not invent them.  They are scars and relics of actual events.  I think we circle around them, either connected by a leash, afraid to look at them - and so we go around and around forever, always repeating. Or we loosen and break the leash and cycle out and up and away, always seeing them from a new perspective, always learning.

I had an amazing experience last night. You know I am worried about my son and his wife.  Every night I picture them in my heart's eye and I send them messages of love and I surround them in Light. I try to feel connection. Last night I was looking at the two of them, feeling their pain and disillusionment, and I asked, "Who are you?"  The question came from nowhere, and I was not thinking that I didn't know them. But the question came...and the answer followed. They each grew taller and became these amazing pillars of Light. They were each shaking out the masks that they are wearing in this lifetime.  They were so glowingly beautiful. So I looked around, and each of my children, their beloveds, and then my grandchildren also transformed into pillars of Light. Each was a tiny bit different. It was beautiful and heartening.  The little dog had to go outside, and so I went to let him out, and the big old trees I love in the back edge of my yard became pillars of Light, all of the trees around me became Light. And I was Light, too.

It reminded me we are just playing roles, trying on skin for a lifetime, to learn and experience, and maybe even to heal.  I think our biggest lesson might have to do with forgiveness and acceptance, and learning not to hurt anyone or anything else.

The baby had a hard time falling asleep tonight, and so I am exhausted.  I am working Saturdays for the time being.  More exhaustion.

I hope you can balance the work you must do with your son with your husband and with your other responsibilities.  And your son is older now.  He should be able to take some of the responsibility, also.  Is there any chance he can return to the boarding school?

Holding you in the Light...remember you are a pillar!!

With love andLight...C.

Oz revisited

Clare,

I think that you are right…
self examination- inside or outside of the therapy room- is excruciating.
But, it is the only way to move forward.
You have to move through the painful memories…
and realize that they are only memories…
figments of our imaginations…
illusions…
that we maintain, sustain and bestow the power of control over our reactions and behaviors.
I've had good therapy…
it was life altering.
I've had bad therapy…
a waste of my time.
The difference between the two was my attitude…
if I invested myself, trusted the therapist and opened up the results were amazing.
if I didn't have that rapport wight he therapist, it was just an exercise to get through.

A suggestion for your children…
Reike…
It helps to release the energy trapped from things to scary or threatening to verbalize.
It might be a good beginning…
a little safer than psychotherapy.

I leave for Arizona in 10 days.
I cannot believe that my son has almost completed his walking in the desert.
I was hit with images of the Wizard of Oz yesterday and began to compose him a letter about his own walk on the yellow brick road. His frustration and running that led him to OZ and all of the lessons he's learned, all of the pieces of himself that he has retrieved along the way. He can return to home whole and content and be able to walk forward towards his purpose.

I am concerned though. I know that his return means that I have to guide his school work. I have to make sure that he is keeping up, being diligent, trying hard to succeed. On mOnday husband said it will be so much easier to have him home, because he is worried about staffing issues for the week we are traveling. I got really angry for a minute and pointed out that his return means my time and schedule have to be re-prioritized. That while he worries about work, I have to think about months of cyberschooling and motivating and arranging my schedule to meet his needs. I just don't think husband gets it.

Love and Light
until tomorrow,
Maggie

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

happy?beautiful?

The women whose life you described reminds me that ours could have been worse, and that there are some remarkably resilient people out there - people who can't possibly have anything left to draw on, yet they find something...

I am also concerned for my son and his wife. I love them both so much, and I want them to make it through, and I hope their family stays in tact.  They are not fighting about anything or for anything. They are fighting as a release of the pain the builds up, the embers left, torturing them from the inside, from their traumatic childhoods.   It's all about pain release.  And they look to each other for help, willing the other to do the magic thing or say the magic, healing words. But both are damaged, and neither has the tools to understand, much less heal the other.

I harp about counseling, but neither wants to hear me.  They both have explanations and excuses.  Just like I did.  Just like my ex did.

But I know why we/they/I fear counseling.  It's because if you do it right, you will have to face the pain, to walk through it once again.  It's that, or it's amnesia, I guess.  Or stay stuck in the painful holding pattern, constantly circling the tower, but never landing.  Life is so exhausting when we live with constant pain...

I started a tough conversation with two people from high school.  An old friend posted her senior picture.  She was so beautiful. I commented on how beautiful I thought she was, along with another classmate who was in the thread.  None of us felt beautiful or alive or happy, none of us had much self-esteem.  One of them told me I was beautiful. I scoffed, within. Outwardly, I didn't comment back...But the last comment was that it is interesting that we have found each other, returning to what we ran from all those years ago.

Maybe it will be old friends who cast a new light on what I am learning, the parts of myself that I am Lighting...

I remembered another conversation, from when I went to college.  Someone said I was the happiest person they knew.  I was shocked. I still feel shocked.   I may be the most serene person many people know, but I am not very happy.  I'm still amazed that I gave off that vibe!

I hope you and the dog and even the husband have a restful night.  Sending love and hugs and Light.

Clare


Happiness

Clare,

I am concerned about your son and his wife. If there is any way that I could help, please let me know.

I saw a woman today whose entire life has been a violation…
Her mom had 13 kids and didn't keep any but the last.
Foster mom physically abused her.
Foster dad sexually abused her.
foster brothers sexually abused her.
3 marriages that were violent.
She had 4 sons in her first marriage- 3 from rape.
She has been betrayed by multiple family members.
She lost a son when he was 19 years old.
She has had 2 children taken away from her in a custody ruling- mom gets 2, dad gets 2.
She has endured sibling suicide.
She has been shunned by her religious community.
And the story just kept unfolding.
I asked her why she is so resilient when those around her crumble…
she just cried, and said she wanted it to end…
she wanted to be happy for once.

I think that's all any of us want. We look for happiness in others, try to feed off that. While service is an important component of happiness, continual service that is never returned is depleting.
It sucks us dry.
It can cause depression.

I am beginning to really understand that happiness has to come from within. We can share happiness, but we do not have the power to make others happy. There is no Mima wand unfortunately. But, as you said, doing the work to find our center balance is excruciating and tedious and repetitious…and drugs, alcohol, chocolate or taking care of everyone is easier in the short term.

I remember many conversations with husband, around the time before we separated that dealt with this. He would tell me that I make him happy and he didn't want to separate, and I would reply, "No one can make you happy but yourself. I can share your happiness, but cannot make it for you." This concept is unfolding for me again this morning.

I have learned that we can only change ourself. I am responsible for my own actions, perceptions, prejudices, stereotypes, etc. So, happiness is a consequence of making choices that serve me, and do not harm others. I think this is becoming clear to me. We don't create happiness, it is a byproduct of good choices, following that inner voice, respecting dignity in ourself and others. I need to dwell with this longer. It has something to do with the masks as well, I need to put it all together.

My dog is sleeping at my feet. I slept on the couch, so she wouldn't have to do stairs, and she was quite restless. We went to sleep around 9. She was wandering at 11, 12:45, and 4. At 4 she had gotten herself stuck in a bathroom, the cone had closed the door. I just heard the cone hitting the door. I feel as if I have a baby again. She is a great dog. I don't mind helping her to recover her strength and wellbeing.
It is a privilege to care for her.

Love and Light until tomorrow,
Maggie

Monday, November 3, 2014

excruciatingness

You had an exhausting weekend.  I hope the dog is okay. I'm glad the rest of you are...okay, too.

I think we all have a bit of dissociation.  In everything, there seems to be a spectrum, from full involvement, to none. And I think many of us dabble. We only need a little to hide. We don't need the full escape.  It seems like the way to survive...It's weird, but I also remember learning to leave my body while living in that house.  I would lift out of me, then up.  I could look back and see my body on the couch. I would travel along the corner between the ceiling and the wall, but I could not get out of the room.  I never went anywhere interesting. I was just leaving me.

We do learn to detach, to withdraw our emotion. I remember being in an RC meeting one night. I was talking about being raped. I was very calm, very conversational. But I was shaking and I could not stop.  I was a little uncomfortable, but my co-counselor said, let it go, just keep shaking. I asked what I was releasing. She said, "Terror."  That shocked me. I thought I had conquered all of my emotions. I did not know I was storing terror.

I read an article recently - Sex? Or Assault?  I was thinking about the title, about the fact that we can't seem to tell the difference between sex and rape.  I started thinking that we have forgotten how to have sex. We know the mechanics, we can go through the motions, but here is another place in our lives where we have forgotten how to be vulnerable.  We use sex to simulate vulnerability and attachment.  We don't seem to know how to be truly bonded with our partners...

And...I am tired today. My son and his wife were having a difficult time together last night.  I was on the phone with each of them for a while. I worried and prayed for them all night. I love them both so much.  I  want their marriage to succeed. But I don't want them to be torturing each other's souls.  They each feel like a victim, both have excuses to avoid therapy. I keep coming back to - they need counseling. They need some outside opinions and they need someone to help them develop and use the tools needed to change their patterns.

But neither wants to go first. Asking for help is absolute vulnerability. It is scary as hell.

I wish I could wave my Mima wand and make everything okay.  Unfortunately, my screaming when my son was young is the root of his side of the problems. And she is carrying pain from what her family did when she was young.

Change is even scarier than hell.  But I think that way down deep we know the pain is almost unbearable when we 1. face what happened to us and 2. acknowledge what we have done to others.These processes are excruciating.

Pray they have the resilience and fortitude and the strength to be vulnerable, to change...

I'm going to knit and them to sleep...

Hope you sleep well.

Love and hugs from Clare

Exploring dissociation

Clare,

I've met a woman with dissociative personality disorder…
At a college that I worked at years ago...
she was incredibly intelligent…
had 6 or 7 personalities…
and each had its specific role to help her negotiate life.
Talk about stereotypes…
her male personality was good at math and science, so he emerged for those classes.
She had a 3 year old personality that would emerge when someone threatened her.
That personality held all of the memory of abuse.
There was one organizing personality who held all of the memories, schedules, etc…
she orchestrated the emergence of personalities…
The real woman couldn't figure out what was going on…
she kept having periods of amnesia.

Anyway, the dissociation occurs when we are faced with a hopeless situation…
we are overwhelmed and helpless…
dissociation is actually a gift…
it allows prey animals to separate mind and body before they are killed by a predator.
They feel no pain…
much like a person in a near death experience describes floating above, observing the whole experience in a detached, painless way.
Fight- flight or freeze- dissociation is the freeze.
When a person or animal is abused- made helpless and hopeless- they can teach themselves to dissociate. Whenever they are threatened it is a learned reaction.
In the therapy room people will dissociate when telling their trauma stories…
they tell without emotion…
because they are not attached to their memories or emotions.
Many people experience amnesia around their trauma because their brains dissociated and cannot acknowledge it happened to them.

I think I learned to dissociate early…
I had vivid daydreams that felt as if I left my body.
I remember them first at the house where our youngest sister was born.
The timing is similar to the first memories of molestation…
which is one of the reasons it was more than children's games or curiosity-
which was my excuse for years to ignore it.

I dropped my dog off this morning, she was trembling. She had a seizure at 5 am, so I had to bathe her this morning. I got very little sleep. My older son had car trouble on his way to S#5's house. Husband had to go and pick him up and complete the trip. He didn't return until 3 am because he got a call for a procedure at 1 am. I fell asleep between 12 and 1. Woke up at 3. Woke at 5 and then up for the day at 6. I have to drive back to pick the dog up this afternoon, about 1 and a half hour drive to the hospital. I need another weekend.

I'll check back in tomorrow,
Love and Light,
Maggie

Sunday, November 2, 2014

dissociated

In a way, I think we always wear masks.  When I am at work, I am the teacher.  When I am watching the kids, I am the Mima.  I don't know - are these personas, maybe...but I let a different part of me show, and submerge the rest.   I just had the feeling/idea that perhaps as we are abused, and learn to submerge self more thoroughly - it leads to dissociative personality. Maybe we just have a mild form of the disease. All I know is that in an abusive situation, you can not be vulnerable. You can not let your true self show. It gives the attacker more ammunition, more targets.  And as they hit those targets, they can release more of their pain from those places in their soul.  Maybe, as a pair are together longer, there is less release for the attacker as the victim goes deeper into other selves.  The violence has to escalate or they each have to find another partner to learn with.

Wow, I didn't know I was there.

This morning, the baby woke up kissy and happy. All three dogs were mellow and wagging their tails. This is a little unusual for my Emily who came to us so skinny we could see every bone, and who could not make eye contact.  She was very relaxed this morning.  It was nice...

I'm not sure how much I wear my masks.  I retreat or emerge depending on the safety of the situation.  Maybe that's why I dreamed of the turtle. Maybe that's part of the lesson.

So sorry your dog and your horses aren't perfectly healthy. I hope they all thrive as much as possible for an old body!  And I hope you feel better...Next week will probably be my turn. It will be wood week, and so I will be stacking firewood, as much as I possibly can.

I would love to go to Bald Head Island again.  The dolphins are still with me.  Are you thinking 3 sister or 5 sister?

Love and hugs...(On baby duty...must run, will check back later)
Clare

Saturday, November 1, 2014

More authentic

Clare,

I think it's true that doing work you love feeds your soul, but it is good to take breaks every once in a while. That's the whole idea of a sabbatical- time to enrich your life by taking a break from the every day work.

I was writing to my youngest, trying to explain that my marital separation wasn't meaningless or pointless as he thinks. It was difficult to put into words in a concise way. But it boiled down to trust. I created a space that I could nurture trust with husband. I could put away my mask and facade of perfection and just be me. I believe that he has done much the same work, in his own way. I hope that my son can come to an understanding of this.

I did not dress up for Halloween. We never get trick or treaters, my older son went to a costume party, and I stayed home. I made vegetarian chili and we just relaxed. It was nice. I was mulching leaves with the mower and got quite cold before the sun went down. So a hot shower, glass of wine and bowl of chili were perfect to warm me up. I was quite excited by the amount of work I'd accomplished. Until this morning when I woke with a tremendous headache. My neck and shoulders were in spasm from the yard work. It's better now, but what a painful morning.

I went to see my horses this morning, despite the headache. My Thunder has a tick bite that got infected on his face. My Rusty cannot bend his right front knee. Both are about 27 years old, and I am afraid it's going to be a rough winter for both. I took their blankets to the Laundromat today, so they'll at least stay warm and dry. I had a talk with the barn owner- the plan is to just keep them happy. My role is to keep them happy horses until they pass.

When you write about masks I started to wonder if I still wear masks? I think I put them on from time to time- when it serves me. I do feel as if I live more authentically now. I think I live as myself most of the time. But, I will pay attention to this in the upcoming week.

I miss you. I wish we were having another sisters' get together soon. I am wondering about a long weekend in March again, on Bald Head. What do you think?

Love and Light,
Maggie