An Isand of Misfits

You want the equivalent of the Island of Misfit toys for beautiful, charming, intelligent women who don't recognize their own worth. 

I did a strange thing last night.  I used google maps (I love google maps...I can waste stupendous amounts of time examining the bridges of Florence, for instance.  Or circling San Surplice.) to explore F-burg.  Unfortunately the little man couldn't walk the streets, so I couldn't get a street level view, but it triggered memories.  I remembered who lived in the various houses.  Names from the past sprang into my memory.  If stuff like that is stored in my mind, why can't I remember Spanish?

Then I found a photo of the abandoned church next door.  It was bought by a congregation and is now an active church.  If you look beyond the church, you can see the front porch of our house.  I am going to try and post it here.  It looks like the weeping willows are gone.  I loved those trees.  Perhaps it will trigger memories for you.  My memories were both bad and good...

We did find a noose in the attic.  It had been cut down, so just the loop end was lying on the floor.  In my memory, the top part was still there on a rafter too.  I never thought about the house being haunted, I was always more aware of the old graveyard next door.  I thought all the spookiness came from there.  What a place for kids to play!  And yes, we did have seances there.  We were very much under the spell of Dark Shadows.  We used to watch that show after school each day.  Since I was in charge, everyone got to park in front of the television for a little while.  I don't remember ever making anyone go out and play.  But there was something cold and creepy in the corner at the top of the stairs.  Freaked me out every single night!  I hated going to bed!  And there was a stenciled message on the attic wall - the name of a painter, a year 1792 - and the town he lived in.  I googled the name/town/year, but the only person who came up died before the late 1780's.  The doorway to the attic was in the room Bs 3 and 4 shared.  I think the closet you are remembering was in the adjacent room, on the wall shared with their room.

There were two doors to that house.  The back door was in the center of a long back porch.  When you came through that door, you were in the kitchen.  After walking across the kitchen, if you looked left, you were looking into the TV room.  The cellar door was on the wall, to the left, as you walked into the TV room.  The cellar was very dark, and there was an old coal furnace right in the middle. And there was a coal bin on the alley side.  It was dark and creepy down there - old with dirt walls maybe, or possibly stacked stone.

I did another strange thing.  I worked with Fat, Dumb and Ugly.  Fat is connected to my lower left ribs for some reason.  Locating Fat caused pain there.  I don't know why.  I can't think of a reason.  But I moved her.  She was roly-poly, soft and squishy and sweet.  Then I found Dumb on my right shoulder.  Dumb seems to be more silly, goofy that stupid.  Interestingly, she lives where a tiny Catholic nun shows up occasionally to tell me how bad I am. Did my inner-Catholic silence my silly self?  I have learned to ignore the nun's voice.  (The Catholic Church says - give us a child until they are 7, and we have them for life!)  After a movement, I realized that the Fat and Dumb connection has been  blocking my heart.  Blocking or protecting - I wonder...I can't find Ugly.  Ugly keeps her eyes down and won't look at anyone.  I will find her and love her, though.  And I didn't have time to check on my skeletal little tar baby self.  Instead, I fell asleep.

All night I dreamed of wandering the streets of F-burg,  I couldn't tell if I was awake or asleep.

As for the Skeleton Woman,. I don't think I have untangled the bones.  I think I learned that if I move slowly, she just drags.  The bones no longer fly around and give the appearance of chasing me.  Maybe I have some unknotting to do!

I am getting quite the list here.  1. Find Ugly.  2. Check on my healing little girl self.  3. Untangle my bones from the net of pain and sorrow.

Big sisterly advice - Don't push your husband away.  Just set your boundaries and ask for respect.  Anything resembling pushing may panic him, because he was pushed out once.  I have so much respect for you for being willing to reconcile.   It took a lot of strength to end the marriage, but even more to say you'd be willing to try again.

I don't feel like I have been a constant presence for anyone in the family.  There were years of no contact with much of anyone.  We all do it...this may be the strongest pattern we are trying to overcome - to believe we matter to someone, to believe we are not alone, to believe we can reach out and someone will be there...But thank you for seeing me that way.

And, if I am not a complete technofool, the photo.  Did it - not exactly as planned...but I did it!

Ugly Duckling...or Swan?

I am uncomfortable with your assessment of me.
Since I am using stories to explain...
I am like the ugly duckling who has been repeatedly told I am ugly, wrong or unacceptable
too many times at too early an age to believe that it will be different.
Someday, hopefully, I will meet others like myself and eventually recognize that I fit.
It's funny, as I write that I realize that I have found my niche in social work...
I feel as if I really do fit there and can be myself. That's probably becasue studies have shown that over 85% of social workers have a personal history of trauma.

I can't remember the basement in Fburg...
I remember the big grate on the floor in that central room where the heat came up...
probably because I remember S#4 accidentally peeing into it once and the smell was bad.
Where were the basement steps?
Was that house really haunted?
Did you guys really find a noose in the attic?
I hated being closed into that dark closet...it was near the attic steps.
Do you remember the seances in the graveyard across the alley?
Those scared the living daylights out of me...
what a strange phrase, "Scared the living daylights out of me"...I wonder where that came from.

I find it interesting that you turned the Skeleton Woman story to tie you to others.
I saw it as tying me to my lost parts.
The story was told to describe the development of a true, loving relationship with another.
So, in your relationship(s) have you seen that pattern?
Have you stopped to really untangle the bones from the line?
I see some of my actions clearly in this story...
I separated from my husband and he continued to quietly pursue...
he was always nearby...sometimes acting like a jerk...sometimes a friend...
I ran away and he stayed close enough.
I think I am still pushing him away...but it is for a different reason now...
Before I pushed him away because I was trying to run from all of this family garbage...the Delana slime as you put it.
I knew that I was getting close to the pain and needed an escape route.
I created the chaos in my life to avoid all of this garbage and I ended up in a relationship that was a copy of my marriage...same issues with different names.
Now, I believe that I am pushing him back to make space for this work...he wants to work on solidifying us and I am digging for my own bones...trying to recompose me.
I need a dynamic, fluid mileu to work all of this in...I am creating and insisting on my own space ...does that make sense?

I agree with you that we walk forward sometimes together, sometimes diverging...
this has been our pattern for all of our lives...thanks for being a constant presence for me.

Blessings,
Maggie

Synchronized Heartbeats

People do notice you.  First of all, you have a very easy and natural laugh.  People are always drawn to happiness, because they don't know it's part facade.  And you always seem to know what you are doing, and so people look to you to give direction.  (Not directions, mind you.)  And you are a very attractive woman who takes the time to listen to people.  Why wouldn't people be drawn to you???  Lots of heartfelt compliments - now bear the agony and writhe until you can say "Thank you!"

I think my confrontation is gentle.  A quiet, "It seems like you are having a bad day?"  or "Do you really believe that?"  can stop and make people think for a minute.  It's kind of like when we open our mouths and garbage from our childhood plops out like a big, old cowpie.  Sometimes we need someone to look at it and say Peeee-yewwwww!  Talking to the kid is also a good idea.  I know the few times I received positive feedback, it felt good - like I was real, like I was worth noticing

The Skeleton Woman story is wonderful.  The image of trying to run away from something we are still bound to screams at me.  We can't escape if we can't disentangle and cut ourselves away from those strands.  To me, those connections are the voices and beliefs - "Fat, dumb and ugly."  "You can't do anything right."  Those words connect me to...Dad, maybe?  A part of me I want to abandon, maybe?  If it's part of me, then I need a rescue.  If it's Delana slime, then good riddance!

Maybe I should embrace, and possibly come to love fat, dumb and ugly since they haunt me so much of the time.  Interesting idea.  I will work on that and let you know.

The other part that really hit me was Skeleton Woman feeling someone else's heart beat to teach her own to heal again.  We need each other.  We work best together.  Humans are meant to be together, and so many of us are suffering in our isolation.  This made me feel hopeful - that there is a solution - we lead each other.

Synchronicity of our heartbeats...magical!

And water often symbolizes emotions.  To be cast into the sea, to be lying at the bottom means being so covered, surrounded by emotions that we drown and can no longer function.  Sort of describes me, sometimes.  Your retelling made me wonder how my little self in the box is doing.  I haven't had any word/feelings/messages.  I will look for her, I think, and see if we are healing.

Where are we?  I think sometimes we are holding hands - Tinya between the two beds, feelings when Dad came home from Viet Nam.  (And this is weird - I got an image of the coal bin in the basement of the old house in F-burg.  Why would we hold hands there?  I know the basement creeped me out - but a lot of that house did.  I really hated the front upstairs hall at night.  I used to have to get my nerve up, wait a moment to compose myself, then race down that hall to my room, turn on the light as fast as possible, then crouch on the bed until I felt safe.)   Other times we are wandering near each other - close enough to call, far enough away to explore some of the things that have happened after we stopped living in the same home.  Marveling because we have made some of the same discoveries independently.

Silly note to end on...I remembered a compliment that delighted me.  I have been involved in environmental activism.  One time, at the end of some adventure I asked a friend if he was ready for the revolution.  He sort of blinked and sputtered a little.  A few days later, he answered the questions.  If I were in charge, he was ready!!

I love you!!

Skeleton Woman

The feathered turtle...leave your shell and fly...what a great concept.

I do not accept or receive compliments...
I, too, deflect them...explain why the person is mistaken...and move on without believing them.
I was talking with my wise friend once about feeling insignificant and invisible...
and she told me that people can't help but notice me...
that I draw attention when I am around...
that still stops me in my tracks...how do I handle that kind of pressure?...
Oh yeah...I just ignore it and pretend it doesn't exist...same old patterns.

As for the mother and child interaction...when you are able to speak up, you will.
I think I would find myself saying something comforting to the childred in that type of situation...
something like..."You do alot of things right", or "she's having a bad day, it's not your fault".
It only takes one person being supportive to reduce the sting, to decrease the traumatic effects of words and actions.
So maybe instead of considering confrontation, consider supporting...loving kindness.

I am continuing to read the Wolves book...
She is now telling the story of the Skeleton Woman...very appropriate for this journey:

A young girl is thrown off a cliff by her father for some unknown discretion...
left to drown and to be the food of fish and underwater creatures...
many years later, all that is left is her bones, submerged deep in the water.

Well, an unknowing fisherman rows onto this water and casts his line in this cove.
He catches something very heavy...
and fantasizes his prize catch...
How great he will be in his village...
How he will feed the whole village by this one catch.

After great struggle, he reels in a skeleton.
Afraid he starts rowing toward shore...
he is chased by the skeleton because, in his fear he has forgotten to cut the line...
the skeleton pursues him...all the way back to his hut.
In the dark he breathes a sigh of relief and lights the lamp.

There,in the corner, is the skeleton...a tangled mass of bones and fishing line...
and he is once again terrified.

Overcome by pity and curiosity, he slowly moves towards it and begins to untangle the mass of bones and string.
After touching the skeleton, he relaxes and becomes comfortable and intent on his goal of putting it in order.
When he is finishes the task he lies down to sleep, no longer afraid.

Sometime in the night he cries a tear...the skeleton, whose thirst is great slowly moves to him and drinks the tear. This tear nourishes her back to flesh. She then reaches into his chest and takes his heart in her hand, the rhythmic beating brings her heart back to life. She replaces his heart, crawls under his blankets and the two become one.

I read this as my journey thus far and my future.
Part of me was thrown away...
bits and pieces picked away by bottom dwellers...
but survived submerged...
I have rediscovered the bones...
faced the ugliness...
felt the terror...
tried to run and hide...
fantasized about healing/feeding the whole village...
I am becoming comfortable with the process of putting this in order...
and I am crying tears to reawaken/reflesh that part of me.
So the journey continues...as does the dream sequence...the flail chest...
I need allow access to my heart and permit it to bring that part of myself back to life...
then hopefully peace and integrity will follow.

So my Helig Wyn...my feathered turtle...my soul sister...
Do you see this too?
Where are you in this process?
Do you lead? Do you follow? Or are we walking hand in hand?

Love and blessings,
Maggie
P.S. Synchronicity is an amazing grace. Thank you Universe and Light.

Pretty Skunks and Turtles

I went to a softball game this afternoon/evening.  We have a town league and two of my kids play.  I go along to tag team the toddler with his mama - as well as to watch my kids play.  I came home with a neighbor, and we stopped to allow a mama skunk and six babies to cross the road.  At first it was hard to tell what was happening - they looked sort of like an enormous caterpillar.  Then they were just stinking cute.

We were talking about what animals have to teach us, and my neighbor said - it's like the the turtle with feathers.  Time to come out of your shell and fly.  I told her that you and I were just discussing the turtle dream, and that our brother just happened to recommend Trampled by Turtles.  She laughed and said she loved when the world did this to us.

So I came home to read about turtles - who are special because they live both on land and in water.  Then I thought - with feathers, we can also live in the sky...three in one!!

At the park, chasing a two year old, I heard a mother across the park berate her son for not listening.  She said, "And that's why you never get anything right."  I wasn't right there - she was loud.  What do we do in this kind of case?  Do I have an obligation to go out of my way to confront the mom?  I feel like I'm being tested.

So two people told me I looked good today - I look summery.  Part of me felt flattered. but more of me felt like they were lying, or just being nice.  I realized that I have never felt beautiful in my life.  And it's so weird, because I think you, my four sisters are each so beautiful.  And I know I resemble you all, but I am not attractive.  That also attaches to my complete inability to take a compliment.  When complimented, I explain why I am not the one to be complimented.

Do you have this pattern also?

Long weekend, and now onto the beginning of another long week! 

Oh - an maybe you didn't have the next dream, because you understand, therefore you don't need it.  Or perhaps your heart has not been reconstituted yet.

Love you, g'night and sweet dreams...

Bits and pieces of memories

The dream hasn't returned...I was afraid that would happen if I wrote it down. It will return when or if I need it again.

It is funny that you say I might have more perspective about Mom's family, even though I lived there for a few years (mostly at college) there wasn't alot of visiting.
I remember Great Aunts U and M...they reminded me of storks...long necks and legs...
my most vivid memory of them was at Grammy's funeral...
they climbed up, almost into the coffin to hug her...
right then and there I declared I would be cremated...no one was going to touch me after I was dead.
I remember Great Uncle P vaguely...
I remember Aunt R...very childlike.

I remember Uncle J had a house in the woods when he was dating or first married for the second time. I liked his second wife very much...she was kind and laughed...she also had long fingernails...longer than any one's I had ever seen...she said Uncle J liked them like that.
I remember her more than I do him.
Uncle J came to my wedding...I hadn't seen him in over 10 years and I didn't recognize him...
I assumed he was from my husband's side of the family...how embarrassing.
I didn't realize that he and his first wife were so unstable. I often wondered about their custody arrangement...the kids were split up.

Uncle G has always been a favorite...because he laughed and hugged all the time...of course he always had a drink and cigarette in his hands at the time.
He does have a close knit family... something that has intrigued me...so different from our own. I wonder what lies behind all of that....is everyone as content as they seem.
I believe that G and C had a short separation while I was living in that area. I remember hearing that C went back home. I think they reconciled pretty quickly though.
He once asked me to come to his house and we could start a business...he would castrate the animals and I would do vasectomies on the men.
I do find it funny that he passes himself off as Dr.G and talks to people about alternative health treatments...he is too smart for his own good.
I see alot of myself in him.

I remember how most of Mom's family were gathered when Aunt S was terminal. They were there for several weeks before she died. Uncle J came to the house and asked if we had a bible or prayer book and I gave him one that I had...he was so thankful for that book.

I need to take a night to catch fireflies...and look to the heavens for shooting stars.
Thanks for the inspiration...
Maggie

Shooting Stars Kind of Night

Ah, quiet...I worked today, then got groceries, and then...grandchildren.  It is lovely to have them with me.  When the younger one went to sleep, the older one and I went out to watch lightning bugs.  Tonight is a magical night.  I think I saw a shooting star, and we found the Big Dipper and the Milky Way. 

I didn't think you were judging me for finding a home for Tinya.  I just wanted to stop the harshness of your response, that part where we really beat ourselves up.  I think animals understand the big picture and are here to teach us.  I think we have both learned to value our four legged companions - and the feathered ones too!  I was thinking about how I felt when I had to take the cat away and leave her in that barn.  The best description is hollow.  I felt hollow, like I had no insides and no feelings.  Are these the moments that dampen our sparks - or in Pennsylvania Dutch - outen our light?  The pain is so much that we simply stop feeling?

Fern came from a healthy home with good role models.  I remember going to a chicken dinner at the church once, I had to be about 9.  I saw a lady using her knife and fork to eat hers, and so I tried to do the same.  My plate slipped.  Neither Mom nor Dad said a word, no one stopped to help me.  Finally one of the kitchen volunteers came and helped me clean the plate, then I sat there, ashamed, for the rest of the meal, and had nothing to eat.  We didn't know it was possible to speak up.  How could you possibly learn to stand between the ax and the pig, when we can't even handle a public mishap and ask for a plate to share food with a child.  I'm sure that what happened was Dad blustered in the privacy of our home, that,  "We can't take those damn kids anywhere."

I never thought about turtles spending so much of their lives alone.  What I do think of is that they are ancient, and the most ancient of plants and insects and creatures fascinate me.  Turtles have shells with 13 plastrons - one story for each of the full moons of the year, according to native tradition - who also say we live on Turtle Island.  And I just read that the internal organs of an old turtle are indistinguishable from a young one, and so they are being studied in reference to longevity.  Have you ever read Elizabeth Marshall Thomas?  She wrote the Hidden Life of Dogs, the Tribe of Tiger for cats.  She analyzed their social structure and points out that cats have an intricate social structure.  We just don't see it because it is different.  It makes me wonder how turtles organize their social structure.  They live so long and so slowly, we probably can't recognize it with our human short-sightedness.

B#4 sent me a recommendation to listen to a band called Trampled by Turtles last evening.  Coincidence?  One of my favorite quotes is: Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous.

Depression and dreams did not get in the way...they just showed us the path we were supposed to explore!

Mom's brothers.  I don't remember a lot.  The older had a troubled first marriage.  I think they married young, and she left him a lot.  It was strange.  They would be around, they would disappear, and I never understood what was happening.  His second wife was older, possibly more motherly.  That was a long and stable union.  He raised the oldest child, the younger two were with their mom.  That family was so split.  And apparently there have been some problems with him accepting his youngest's homosexuality.  More estrangement.  I have a lot of respect for the youngest brother because of the unity and connection he and his wife have with their children,.  But since they live so far away, I have absolutely no idea of the dynamics.  He was often judgmental and I was never quite good enough.

I did put the youngest in a tough position once.  I told him that I was living with a boyfriend.  I figured if he accepted it easily, I would tell Mom.  I didn't tell Mom!  I think she still does not know...Grammy's family was not very connected.  One brother died in WWII.  Another disappeared for years, came back to the family home region not too long before he died.  Grammy married an alcoholic.  These are signs of having come from a dysfunctional, probably alcoholic, home.  Her sister was normal until age 7 when she got one of the childhood diseases.  A very high fever damaged her brain, and she never matured past 7 years old.  According to the stories, she lived with Mom's family when Mom was young, but she became increasingly violent.  Mom said she was schizophrenic.  The story is that she grabbed a knife and tried to attack someone, possibly Uncle J, at a birthday party.  After that she was admitted to the state hospital where she lived until the hospitals were closed.  Then she moved in to a group home.  The last time I saw her was when she was in the hospital for some kind of routine surgery.  I must have been in college.  She recognized me immediately.  When I was about 7 we lived near her, and Grammy occasionally brought her to our house for day visits.  We were good friends at that time.  I wrote to her for years - maybe once or twice a year.  I remember going to the state hospital when I was very young.  I must have been with Grammy.  I don't know if we visited her there, or if we were getting her for the day...it happened more than once, though.

Grampa Smoke's family...hmmmm. There were a lot of them.  I don't know where he was in the roll of kids.  I know his mother was Irish Catholic, and she founded the Catholic Daughters chapter in their region.  There were the twins - Ursula and Catherine, Great Aunt C was the family historian and I have copies of a lot of her research.  Several never married.  I remember Uncle Pete, which was not his real name.  What I remember was that he was very religiously judgmental.  He was not very nice!  There was also an Aunt Essie, who lived alone in a corner house.  I used to stop and visit her when we lived in that town.  She wrote hymns.  I can still sing one of them -- or at least some of it.  It seems like I was quite the little busy-body!!  What really stands out for me is that the siblings lived close, but did not interact a lot.

You lived closer later, so your perspective is different than mine.  What do you remember?

Did you finish the dream sequence?

Yawns and Love,

Clare