IMPERFECT Lady

Normal Wild Deer

Yesterday on my mail route...On a back road, off of a 'main' back road, I stopped to bring a full tray of mail up to the passenger seat.  I had left the driver's door open, gone around to the back of the jeep, and was about to set my tray of mail down and across the passenger seat and in my driver's door, was a deer looking at me.  

He wasn't big, but big enough to just be sniffing around the steering wheel.  I said, "Hey buddy...."  

I then recalled delivering a package to a house on this road in the fall, and small fawn was just inside the yard and the man who was accepting the package had explained to me, that it was an orphan.  I don't recall now how it had been separated from its mother, but the man said it would take food from his family.

And, now here I was with this human fed deer... and he wastrusting I had something for him.

All I had left was a few Ritz Crackers, which I hand fed him.  His little black button nose grazing my gloves as he nibbled the cracker. I didn't have my camera along...or you would have a picture to look upon.

I will carry carrots with me (and camera) in hopes of seeing him again.  I wonder if he waits to hear or smell humans on his road...like meals on wheels.

What I also thought, how interesting the nurturing process was in his case. How he grew to trust humans by the act of survival; for he was too little to forge for food on his own...when his mother disappeared.

In his deer mind, we are kind and giving people a food source, not the perpetrators (hunters) many deer know us by.

I truly didn't believe, believe you could take a 'wild' animal and domesticate it...and yet they are lured into trusting us out of survival.  

And, I also know the same is true in reverse, how we will endure awful treatment for food and shelter...as children without a choice.

Just interesting to witness the unusal deer....who came towards me, instead of fleeing like normal wild deer.

Harmony is in our Choices.

‎"Harmony is the inner cadence of contentment we feel when the melody of life is in tune. When somehow we're able to strike the right cord to balance the expectations of our families and our responsibilities in the world on one hand with our inner needs of spiritual growth and personal expression on the other. This is one of the most difficult challenges any woman (man) faces because it requires us to make choices every day. And yet most of us often feel too tired to choose anything more than what to have for dinner." Sarah Ban Breathnach

Life is in the choices we choose...and remember the old saying "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."  

It then seems, that in order to have balance; we need to play for as many hours we work.  

And to make it half of our life's work to do things for your Inner Needs.

To put that on the list and be as conscientious as if it were a Job.

I bet, if we start paying attention to our choices and see that there are two distinct categories, one being for the expecations family and job....and the other self, we will see what parts we are overfeeding.

Deepak Chopra used to end his hour long radio show with, "Keep your head in the clouds and your feet on the ground."

To keep our imaginations and playfulness alive...while keeping up with our responsiblities.

I have my yoga room heating....and then off to work....but, I will end this day in the company of Ladies and Art Quilts.  Harmony is in our choices.

Keeping me from my life.

A comment on my last post, prompted me to remember these two quotes by Dr. Maya Angelou.

"Children's talent to endure stems from their ignorance of alternatives." 

"...surrender in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice."

What I knew, but didn't know know, was that one of the affects of abuse is lying.

We lie to survive...

We surrender to lying, for it feels better than knowing the truth.

And, I also believe we are forced to lie for the abuser and if the person we tell doesn't believe, we are forced to give up our truths, for no one will help.

Our tolerance for lying is how we literally survive.

It is almost a requirement to being able to make it out of abuse...and at the same time; the tool we used to survive, is the same one that we have to tear down in order to heal.

No more lies.  And, we know intuitively how much trouble we will be in when we begin this process. 

Fear and terror come in when we give up our lies and refuse to play the game of secrets.  We are putting aside the cocoon we used to protect ourselves when we were little.

We survived by crawling into lies.

It seemed impossible and completely insane, to be so terrified of being truthful.

And, how at 54, I am okay with 'not being liked' when I am being truthful.

How immature this sentiment is, and yet so powerful that it kept me a cripple...a woman who felt more secure in lies, than standing in her truth.

Not only did I have to fight myself and keep my own fears and terror at bay, but I had a family who ridiculed and hollered at me while exiting my 'safe' place.  Which makes the healing from abuse so unique and complex.

If your abuser is a family member, you will not be supported as you discover and recover your truths.  Instead, they will rise against you

Not only do you feel vulnerable for leaving your survival mode, but you are being bombarded and put down for doing so. There are no cheers of encouragement, rather there is raining disapproval.

I stand in awe of my journey...and, as Dr. Maya Angelou also says, "I would take nothing for my journey now."

Looking back, it seems as if the veil of illusion was ripped from my eyes and the truth blinded me.  I was ill prepared and crippled, like bird whose shell was busted from the outside.  One moment I was in the comfortable illusion, the next standing naked, defenseless outside with the truth swirling around me; one assault after another.

I had thought the inside of the egg was my life...when in fact, it was keeping me from my life.

Art from the Inside Out.

As I finished writing the last blog and it came to "Hating that my mother lied to me.." I realized later on today, that I hated me for believing it.  I hated me for being okay living as a mask too, for weasalling out of the truth more times than, I too, care to count.  And, I am wise enough to know that what  blame on the outside truly belongs to me.

I hated me.

I hated me and my lies I lived.

I hated and held resentment towards myself for caring more about my own mask, and I lied.

I lied when I felt resentment towards my mother and never explored it.

I lied when I felt cold towards my father and I acted as warm as I could get.

I lied to be liked, to be kind, to be accepted, to not 'push a button' and to avoid the anger.  

I really have to be extremely grateful when my parents truth (and mine) were exposed, when our masks tilted and fell...for truthfulness lay bare.

And, it was too huge to cover up. There were not enough lies to make it work again, my mask was shattered AND the scariest part that behind the mask was a blank face.

I had no me.

What also came to me today, are the Ladies in my quilts. They have no faces.  

Here is my latest one.  I love her.  She is my Second WIND Lady....

 She too has great energy and I love the WIND moving her around her.  I am not sure if I will add anything more. There is lots of my hand-dyed fabric in the borders. I did however, wonder how a mask would be laying in the dirt.  I may try that.

Here is another view.

I wonder if a face will ever appear.  Very interesting to not know how your Art will move.  Like Life it seems to move by feelings; art from the inside out.

When I Say My Truth.

I had a feeling yesterday that clicked firmly into place; how I see myself, and how others may, see me as well.

I would rather be hated for speaking the truth, than to be liked for speaking lies.

It is okay if they hate me, for not wanting to hear the truth.  

I would rather that, then for them to hate me for telling lies. 

If they don't like me it is okay...but the main focus for me is to always live as truthfully as I can. To always say what feels uncomfortable at the time, than to shy away from the truth.  

It is best to live on the crisp edge of honesty and be hated for it, than to be 'liked' for stepping back from the harsh truth of reality...and be liked for being 'kind'.

I could see stretched before me my past as well as my future, and I knew that I would rather be standing here, than standing where I see my mother.

She didn't tell the truth and I hate her lies.

I hate that she wasn't honest with us.

I hate her for telling lies.

She gave me nothing to hold on to.  

She is like water in a clenched fist...

I saw myself standing as substance...as a solid... a solid one unmovable piece, something you could hold.  Even if I am unliked, there is something to me.  I have content, I am made of something.  I stand for something.

Truth is the content of who we are.  It is the fingerprint of your soul.

Lies are the pretend layer that floats above....the mask...that hides you.

I only knew my mother's mask. 

Truth reveals me...

Hate my truth.

Hate me...

It matters not.

I am comfortable without a mask.

My parents wore masks.

In the end, all I was left with, were their masks...the false life of lies.

I want my children to know me...and not a mask.

To even hate who I am, is better than living a life as a mask.

I would rather they not like the lady I am, than to be liked by wearing a mask.

I then thought, "who is my mother?"

Do you know, in the first few weeks, months okay, years of me seeing my mother's mask fall, I had the overwhelming sentiment of being the little bird who lost its mother....who went out to find her.  "Are you my mother?"

 I thought I was searching for my mother, when I was actually searching for me.

And, the old phrase that has haunted my journey, "I am lost, I am going to find myself, and I don't even know who I am?"

It seemed an impossible task; looking for someone I don't know.

But, now I can see how I found myself.  One truth at a time. 

I re-built me.

By never ducking behind a mask, instead by standing out, fearlessly, being me.

Hating me for my truth is way okay with me...it is better than finding out I am full of lies.

I woke up at 46 to a life of a mask.

I am now 54, and 8 years old. 

I find me when I say my truth.

 

Policing of Humanity.

I went to see the movie "Lincoln" yesterday, and was surprised to see human nature of his time, how humanity wasn't separated from the issue of their time, and how it takes courage to say and fight for a new level of humanity.

Lincoln was striving for the good of all people, not just his people...and what he stood for would have no impact upon him.  Meaning the passing of the amendment 13, would not be changing his life, but had a great impact on our country at large.  And, how he had to sway others into vote, often times at their own peril of re-election.

He seemed to carry the weight of the world, and in fact he did carry generations of African Americans upon his back.  It wasn't just for the benefit of the living, but the generations that followed.  They depended upon him to be able to win this vote...

Imagine, your freedom lies in the hands of others...

I also like how some Feared what setting 'them' free would mean; what sort of chaos would spill forth and how would they handle it.  It wasn't so much the individual who was enslaved to now be free, but how it would impact their already free lives.

How they were fearing freedom for all.  Like equality is something to fear...

I like how he asked the two Telegraphers, if they thought they were born to serve the time?  And one says, "You were, I am not so sure about me."

What does our time need?

What kind of humanity will push us into a new level of awareness?

Was I born into the perfect time to help turn the dial?

Am I hindering progress?

Like Elie Wiesel asked of himself, "Am I doing enough?"  And, he also felt that he had just begun, at 82 years old.

Just very thought provoking to see your self in this era and wonder about your contribution.

Lincoln was born exactly at the right time and had all the tools and wisdom humanity needed in order to rise to a higher level.

The movie was about human nature, much more than politics, or perhaps that is what politics is about....policing of humanity.

Perfect for Me.

In January, 2004...I had made a list of things I wanted in life, my future, a bucket list of sorts, but mostly it appears as it were dreams without substance.

What I mean by that is they were things I wanted to do, lofty goals or what I thought would fulfill my life, but they lacked the beginning.  They lacked me being fully capable of actually knowing the content and substance or the first building blocks...the training or understanding.

It is to want something that is grand, without the struggle or sweat that it takes to get there.

Like wanting to cross the finish line of a marathon, but only running the last mile...to feel the accomplishment, but not what it takes to run each step and each mile.

It is erily like my life back then, minus the center or a true foundation.  Built upon the lightness of life...full of holes and places I skirted around.  Not a true solid running path.

The things I dreamed for and wanted...was like plucking ideas out of the clouds, with no intentions of doing the work or having the understanding of their path.  Just an item, free floating unattached....that I could simply grab and have.

A list of fanciful dreams...even a fantasy. A list I wanted to be delivered to me, where the Universe would do all the work, and I just sat and waited.  A lazy dreamer and goal maker.  

The list and the list maker... I hardly recognize.  And the things I wanted were such senseless things or just things....and not a fuller life, but a life of more things and doings. And, the doings were not connected to my center or me, but something I thought the world needed, not something from within me.

Oh, I did throw in a few "spiritual" or "feeling" aspirations, but even then, I didn't know what each would require of me...they just sounded 'nice'.

I may write another list and see the differences.  In a way, I wish I hadn't read the old list first, but just went ahead and wrote AND then I could compare fairly.  Now, I wonder if I would be too grounded to dream the infinite dream?

What part of me would my bucket list now serve...the center or the dreamer...and what are my dreams?  

The early list, I believe was what I thought would make me happy, alive and successful and even comfortable.  And yet nothing of the list would have gotten me to where I am today...at peace and fully connected to my center.  It took tragedy and loss, pain and sorrow to make me aware of a whole new level of me.

It is very interesting to me, that most of what I had on the list, was meaningless and would not have changed who I am or my content...all it would have done was kept me busy at the surface and perhaps dressed nicer and living in better places, going see fun things, but it would not have touched the center of me. 

I can clearly see the woman who believed that changing the outside would make the inside better.  When in fact the outside stayed the same, but the inside shattered...

Truth flooded my insides, while the outside remained unchanged...and that toppled any dream list I had.  All my dreams changed.  All I wanted was to be at peace, to know truth, to be joy, to live in harmony with reality...to survive with my life intact...with all my faculties.  To work my way through the insanity of my flipped upside down mind...to get to a place where what I said and what I saw all was in step with the Universe (One Verse).

For my life to have only one side...and all words and actions to be as they appeared, to not live hiding truths due to their ugly content, but to live fearlessly facing all of life as it appeared like a plain glass window...  To be a seer and not a fanciful dreamer and pretender.

I know now, that my dreams, intentions and desires would now come from deep within me, and would more than likely contain things that are self less; more that they would be moving through me...Like the Lady Quilts.  Where I am there, but it is much bigger than I.

In the old list, I was the dream maker, shaper and designer...now, I would be the one who the dream passed through.  

I can only orchestrate the open space and be accessible and daring...and not be rigid and set on a certain path.  But like the pen being held by an artist....moving freely and not fighting the hand that holds me.

I no longer resist...for I was shown, that what I would have called my worst moments in life, were actually some of my brightest.  They revealed to me, Me.

Instead of facing life as a pen and its limited knowing of who I am, I will let the Universe draw me...

I am surprised often.  

I am thrilled by synchronistic events that collide, and how I don't know my path, except for this last edge of the pen stroke.

Today, I am here...ready to see what movements I do, what I am inspired (In Spirit) to do.

Loving that I am now a pen without a path...there are no dots to search for and ones to swerve around.  I am free to be moved by the Universe....we are truly one verse.

I only suffer, when I don't like the line that It has drawn or the way it wants me to go.

If I relax in the hand of the Universe, all my desires and needs will be met. My life has moved down a path that is perfect for me.

All that wasn't true.

I was left wondering about my family of origin and the way we are spinning as we go through life.

Some are spinning towards their center and some are spinning away.

What is easier, going against the spinning majority and losing their love and attention, or spinning with the majority spinning away from your own center.

One is being pulled by what the majority needs and wants and the other is to spin to the beat of your own drum.  There is a price to be paid for both...neither is a free ride of bliss and ease.

And, from what I have come to know, the destinations are actually more important than the spinning. Where are you spinning to? What will be the outcome?  What will you have and to hold when you get there?  Is there a there?  Who are you as you are spinning?  

I can see the two different ways of spinning.

One is me and the other are most of my siblings.  

I have spun both ways and I know that each has its pain and suffering, but what I didn't fully grasp is how you end up.

Will you spin into madness or will you spin into clarity?

Will you eventually spin completely out of control and lose complete sight of your center and in knowing who you are?  

 Do you spin in rebellion or are you spinning in harmony....and in harmony for peace in the family or harmony for your soul?

Where we end up will matter more than the journey itself.

Who will you be and where will you land?

What is the cost of spinning away from your self?

And is it really possible to leave your self or are you taking your self on a ride and it watches you and knows how you continually make choices against your self in order to make peace 'out there'.  

I know that in the past I made choice after choice mindless or heedless of what its cost was to me, to the self, the essence of me, how each choice that was based for ease today, piled another layer upon me, leaving the real me far far below.

I also know, they know. They know that they are unwilling to ruffle feathers. Unwilling to push a button, unwilling to see what is uncomfortable seeing, to instead say things that are not true to have 'peace' today.  This is the spin.  Just as many journalist put a spin on their stories, so to do we.

We spin them to make it more palpitable for today...we either spin with the truth or spin it to make it sound better.

Spinning with the harmony of reality or spinning away in denial.

We spin for many reasons.

We spin to be liked and to have love and to be not alone.

We spin to be perfect and to appear kind.

We spin to not feel the truth and the pain that follows.

We spin our lives to make us feel better.

But where will it lead?  Does it lead to a better life, a happier home, a loving relationship or does it keep you from feeling real life?

Just interesting to see the lives spinning and wonder what they are weaving.

Spinning out of control or spinning into control.

What I didn't know either, is that there is no difference between spinning out of control with drugs/alcohol etc or spinning into dark oblivion of strict religion or in denial of abuse.  

In all YOU are out of control.  You are not able to make choices for your self.

Just as dysfunctional families do not want anyone wielding free will in their relationships. There is only one way to spin in abusive homes, and it certainly is not for your own good.  You must spin around the abuser...like a tragic merry-go-round.

I have spun now both ways. 

One is spinning out of control and away from the center of me....and the further and longer you spin, it will be harder to gain control and reverse the spin.

The centrifugal motion takes immense amount of strength and courage to stop. 

I had a whole life of 46 years based upon spinning away from my center.  

I had to unwind and undo all that I had spun into an illusion...

It literally felt like I was becoming undone.

And I was.

I was unraveling all that wasn't true.

Content of Your Soul

Anne Morrow Lindbergh, kept using the word "Centrifugal." When I first came upon it it twisted my tongue and it didn't make sense.  The second time I saw the word, it was like I knew it, but didn't know its spelling.  A line in song came to mind that used it "Centrifugal Motion"...from way back. I had never seen this word spelled out or used in a sentence. (Her book was written 50 years ago)

I had to look it up for, I didn't quite grasp its meaning, but could feel its pull.

" Moving or directed away from a center or axis."

I get this word.  

I understand the forces that pull you away from your center...and how it feels to be far from the axis of who you are.  I also feel the strength it took to reach my center, to be going against all I was taught to reverse this centrifugal motion my childhood and its circumstances, that were set in motion.

Abuse clearly is centrifugal motion and all its trappings add to the spinning away from your center, until it feels normal, to be one with the centrifugal energy...to please what makes you leave your soul.

I can visualize this centrifugal force as the reverse of your soul's desire, the thrusting back and away from your passion.  The opposite of your soul's longing...being pulled away from who you were meant to be...of leaving you...due to reasons and circumstances you were not big enough to fight or resist.  Weak against life's situations, small against the forces that forced.

Centrifugal motion is a great way to feel the pull of abuse...to feel your self being pulled away from your center...by the forceful need and desires of others.

What I experienced, was like I was going against gravity when I was putting up boundaries and stopping relationships that wanted to suck me away from what was good for me.  It seemed odd that doing what was good for me, felt like the opposite of a drawing or pull, but rather going against a force field.

This force field is the negative energy system that comprises abuse...it is like we were taught to spin away from our selves, instead of spinning towards our soul's calling.

Like spinning tops, going in the wrong direction.

In order to heal, we are asked to start spinning in a new direction, going against the other spinning tops.  Just the volume of so many going one way, while we are trying to get back to center, is incredible to picture.

There is an inner battle being fought, where the old centrifugal force is meeting head to head with the passion and knowing of our soul.  Where truth is fighting to stop this centrifugal force.

I am not certain, I can articulate this accurately, but boy does this paint a picture for me, the hurricane forces of abuse ripping at us, while the soul pleads from way far back, small and weak, while the abuse winds are howling.  

What is and was always shocking to me, I couldn't please both, it literally always came down to pick one. Centrifugal force of abuse or the passion of my soul.  The energy of each could not be met by one choice. The choice either matched moving away from my center or remaining close.

Some say we don't have a choice in life, that our life is set out ahead of us, but, I wonder if we get two different lives, depending upon what force we ride?

I have ridden the back of centrifugal motion only to find in the end it was all for naught, for I may have arrived and been surrounded by family, but I sold my soul out to get there. 

It leads me to wonder if the centrifugal energy is that of the ego/devil/evil?

And, if the dance in life is picking which one you want as your partner?

As an abused child, we had no choice, but will all get the chance to pick again?

Will all hear or feel the calling of their soul, feel the pull of their truth and no longer remain silent?  Is this the journey of a million sorrows to find your way to stop spinning centrifually?  

I see the world and all humanity, with two distinct forces swirling around each...the free will of the Universe.

One will send you spinning away from your center and the other one, moving you closer and closer to the content of your soul.

Feel Who You Are.

"When one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others."  Anne Morrow Lindbergh

What struck me while reading this, is that while I feel estranged, and am estranged, from my family, I am very much in touch with me. That by actually coming in touch with myself, it led me away from my family.  I know that this isn't the norm, that most who are seeking a deeper connection to self, will not have to leave their family of origin, but for those of us whose families are entangled in abuse, we will.

It also gave me a brief insight upon the lives of the abused, that the very fact that they can't or are too afraid to be in touch with their own our self, leads to being unable to touch others; and this is the energy void abused children live in.

Untouched, in the sense of a deep connection, love and peace with their parents...and even other siblings.  For this disconnection with one self disables the very mechanism for being close.

How interesting, the first person you need to touch, is your self.

I had to first be able to see, feel and be with the parts of me that for so many years were totally ignored and intently pushed away and blindly denied.  I had to touch, like a blind person...fingering all the aspects of my family, touching the truth and feeling and being with the horrors of betrayal and lack of love that is abuse.

What I feel most others are intent on doing, is focusing on what they want to be there, and not to touch the tendrils that they know will lead to the deep dark hole...the void that is abuse.  

We feel that if we let our selves fall down the slope of reality, we will disappear and go out of our minds.  Instead, by feeling to the depth of your being...you come in contact with your self.  You touch you.

You see you and rest falls away.

Touching who you truly are, seems like it would be awful, for no one touched us, instead they used us.  They did not value us.  

 I was afraid to be my self, for I wasn't allowed to be myself.

I was taught to not share my feelings, not ask for what I needed, to not be in touch with me.  And, once abused, who wants to be in touch with that?

Yet, it is by sitting down right next to your truth, that you truly come to touch...to hold and be with the wounds, that are you.

I am all my experiences.  All my feelings, the good, the bad and the ugly...

I am in touch with all of me.

In touching the dark terrifying places, I am able to feel and touch love, peace and joy.

I know, if you can't touch your self, you will not be able to touch and feel others...you first have to feel who you are.