IMPERFECT Lady

Happy New Minute!

Today ends this year. The Calendar will be changed tomorrow.  A tool we use to mark the passage of a year.  And as the new one is hung up, so are many hopes and wishes.

 

I no longer hold the year or calendar responsible for what it contains.

 

There are 525,600 minutes in a year.  That sure doesn't seem like enough.

and, there are 1,440 minutes in a day.

 

Life is lived by minutes.

Not even days.

Or, hours.

 

How we spend our minutes is what the calendar will be filled with.

 

Some of us who own smart phones, it tells us how much time we spend on social media.

 

How interesting would our lives be, if there was a counter for everything.

Imagine your day,

and, your year.

 

Looking back I feel like I filled up my time relatively well.

Doing much of what I love to do and with people I love.

I even did a few things for the first time.

 

I would say, that on a scale of 1 to 10  - My year was a 9.9 and even a 10.  I feel I did what I did with where I was at the time.

 

Perhaps my expectations of myself and time, have mellowed over the years.

And, I try not to plant hopes that are beyond my capabilities, or time allotment.

Or more still, I am content with who I am and the contents of my life.

I have a good life.

 

Maybe our contentment matters when the old year passes and a new one arrives.

Time finds us living in peace; instead of at war.

 

There is an odd dance between living life in this real moment, and playing fantasy games with time.

Mostly I am a realist; living in this moment of time.  

Engaging with life as I am and where I am.

Being present with what is.

 

Living this way time passes, almost unseen.  

 

And, perhaps it matters less.

 

And, I understand this state is tricky for many.  Many of us survived by living outside of this moment of time.  Living in the future, in our minds, was better than being in reality.

It is hard for me to recollect living there now.  Denial fogged up reality distorting it and leaving me un-responsible for myself and my life.

 

Maybe the best way to use time is to understand that you are solely responsible for how you fill it up.

 

A new hour, day, week year awaits, and yet it is in this minute of life where we live.

How we spend the minutes, is how we spend the year.

Just as the old adage of take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves.

Happy New Minute!

 

 

Do Something

In the audible book "Twisted - The story about Larry Nassar and the Women Who Took Him Down"  a comment was made about - how the perpetrator needs everyone to do nothing. And, doing nothing is the easiest thing to do.

 

This may not seem earth shattering to most; but it resonated with me.

 

When an incident happens, two choices will appear for each of us.

What will I do with this new information?

What am I willing to do?

Something,

or Nothing.

 

I don't believe that most people are thinking what is good, or not good, for the perpetrator. Rather, mostly what is good or not good, for themselves.

 

Sadly, the choice of doing something is rarely chosen.

Nothing is the clear winner.

Nothing is easier.

Nothing is what the abuser needs you to do.

 

Each of us can project the future based on if we do nothing or something.

We can know our circle will respond in two different ways, depending upon how we choose.

 

I am unable to articulate deeply the avenue of nothing.  I can however speak of doing something.

 

The something respond is not pretty.  And, you will not be welcomed with open arms when you do something.

Doing something is the start of a fight.

A win-less fight.

 

Doing something to change the perception of a person is not an easy task.

Doing something to interrupt the blind faith of a religion is near impossible.

Doing something to shed light into family secrets; terrifying.

 

The doing something will require you to stand strong and most often alone.

Doing something will require you to set boundaries; where no boundaries have stood before.

 

In listening to the book "Twisted" you will be able to see why it is so hard to do something, against the sea of people who are hell bent to believe in the innocence, compared to the crime. And often there is system in place to protect the abuser or really the reputation, the organization, the family.

 

And, there is a goal or dream attached to believing in the innocence.  A dream or goal, that is hard to let go of.  A future is planned and in that future an abuser is not part of.

We, who do something, are seen as home wreckers, career and reputation wreckers. That we are responsible for the damage, not the ones doing nothing.

It is so backwards, that my own mind has a tough time with it.

 

The ones doing nothing are seen as kind, loving and caring.

Doing nothing; but perhaps forgiving.  Even forgiving is kinder than doing something.

The doing nothing is easier in fact, if you forgive.

 

Perhaps their doing something is to be forgiving.

 

Our life history has shown that the most common response is nothing.

Our legacy of abuse lining both sides of my family shows its true. Nothing is the way we do things. Or at least, not something different.

 

The ones who do do something, are rare and often leave the family.

Here is a lengthy article about family scapegoats.  

No Contact! The scapegoat walks away

I am not sure that is what I see myself as, but there are common threads.  I can't know how I am seen by my family today. I know how I have been treated; for doing something.

Something has to change, in order for change to begin arriving.

In the news, we have seen big organizations fighting to keep their reputations when abuse is know; by keeping up their appearances.  By not exposing what is in their midst, in order to look okay. 

 

Larry Nassar, according to this book, abused about 500 girls. Many girls over many decades spoke up, and nothing was done. Nothing but perhaps covering him up.

Nothing to stop him.

Nothing to shine a bad light upon Gymnastics and Michigan State University.

Nothing to change the image of him being a doctor.

 

His case is not so unusual, only in that he was finally caught.

There are many abusers, who bank on the notion, that we will do nothing.

We won't wreck havoc in our family, church, organization, work and sport.

That we won't interrupt his/her cycle of abusing.

 

The only other way Larry Nassar would have stopped was by his own death.

What is so incredibly hard is the lives of the victims he has left in his wake. The pain and trauma in their lives.  And, it wasn't even his singular pain, but the pain of others knowing and doing nothing.

Those after blows are mind shattering, heart wrenching agony.  To know, that others knew and did nothing. 

I am hopeful that we are leaning towards honoring those who dare do something.

 

 

 

What Happened Next

"In trauma recovery, it's important to consider what happened. It's equally, if not more important to consider, what happened next, which is often where the deepest wounds lie." Find Your Sunshine Therapy

 

I read this and felt that it immediately opened up space to look around more deeply.

 

What often happens, at least in my experience, is that the trauma stands alone.

Segregated from the rest.

 

An island of trauma in an otherwise normal life.

 

However, it is more often just one huge red flag in a sea of red flags.

 

If you don't look upon what happened next, you will not be able to see clearly.

It isn't so much that I was abused, but what happened next, OR more, what didn't happen next.

 

In looking at what happened next, you will find answers you may not want to know.

People acting in ways that were not about the safety of the children, and standing against abuse.

 

Looking into what happened after, you can see more clearly the agendas of people and organizations.

If nothing happened next.  

If life continued on as if nothing happened, that is a sign.

 

In my experience, the worst wasn't the abuse that happened, it was what didn't happen next.

 

There wasn't a safe place to be.

 

When family does nothing, when the minister of the church does nothing, when neighbors do nothing, it adds layers and layers, to the wound.

 

So many want to isolate the wound as being the sole responsibility of the abuser.  However, he is either supported or reported.

 

I love this train of thought, "What happened Next".  Most will not go down this road, because most truly do not want to know.  There is a cost to being curious, you will see folks being apathetic to abuse.

 

Art made for me by my daughter. 

 

I feel that in order to truly heal from trauma, you have to continue to ask, "What happened next?"  Keep going until you get the full scope and breadth of what happened.

 

Social Niceties

"The winter solstice celebrates the longest hours of darkness or the rebirth of the sun and is believed to hold a powerful energy for regeneration, renewal and self-reflection."  According to Forever Conscious

It is the time of year for powerful energy of self-reflection and renew and regeneration.

I looked up "Renewal" and found - "the replacing or repair of something that is worn out, run-down, or broken."

And, I am wondering what in my life is worn out, run down or even broken?  What needs to be replaced with something that works?

So, I then looked up "Regeneration" - "is the process of renewal, restoration, and growth that makes genomes, cells, organisms, and ecosystems resilient to natural fluctuations or events that cause disturbance or damage. Every species is capable of regeneration, from bacteria to humans."

Regeneration happens; naturally.

To be fair, I looked up "Self- Reflection" - "Meditation or serious thought about one's character, actions and motives."

Which leaves us to ponder what needs renewal  - which parts of our character, actions and motives reflect our truths, and then which ones can we let go of.

December is always a month where it seems my family of origin come in.  Typically in a friendly fashion, breaking the silence - perhaps a birthday wish, or christmas card etc.

 

This always seems odd to me.

 

For our relationship is estranged, severed, and pretty non-existent.  And in pops a normal seeming exchange.

 

I was feeling anxious about it.  And, I pondered the root cause or why this felt so threatening, while it appears so benign.

 

What I learned about conflict in my childhood home, was that something would happen, someone's feelings were hurt, and instead of talking about it, silence would ensue.  The silence often stretched longer, if the hurt was deeper, until enough space passed, and then life returned to 'normal'.

 

A wound was left in the middle of the relationship. A hurt that was never acknowledged on either side. Silence, and not talking took the place of resolving issues. 

 

My mother left me many times, abruptly on a weekend, to 'run away' - leaving me in charge of the house and however many kids were still home.  And, on Monday Morning, she would not tell me where she went or why, but appeared all chipper "Rise and Shine everybody" would echo up the stairway.  

 

Her respite from her life was successful, at the cost of my weekend plans.

 

The pattern of no discussion and hurtful feelings going unnoticed etc, and then time passing and all is back to normal, without any type of sorting things out, leaves me cautious of family that now pops in.

 

I no longer will leave the wound undiscussed. 

 

The estrangement wasn't easily navigated.

 

So, as this Solstice of self-reflection arises, I am sitting with some family entering into my life and what this means.

 

It feels disingenuous to me to let our wound and estrangement not be spoken about. To just begin again, from here. 

 

The potholes of my childhood wounds that went undiscussed, left me handicapped and stunted.  I didn't just move on complete; but was filled with emotional scars and psychological deficits.  

 

I am sitting with my inability to let bygones be bygones without discussing and reconnecting, as part of who I am now.  

 

I am trying to discern within me, what is just letting 'social niceties' happen, and when it feels like the patterns of old?

 

It appears that their casual interjections into my world are just that, casual.  

 

Yet it feels more passive aggressive to me in the face of the years of silence.

 

Mostly I have to sit with what do I do with casual social niceties.

 

What is the cost or toll, to my world, and who I am?

 

 

I get confused, when an estranged relationship has social niceties.

 

Which is my whole childhood. Things not appearing as they were.

 

Where a dad is an abuser.

 

It feels like the messy relationships are appearing nice.

 

I can't imagine living in a world like this as a child. Where things appear one way, but are really another way.  The shifting landscape of dysfunction, not knowing what is truth and what is fiction.

 

Happy 2019 Solstice.  

 

My self-reflection includes my estrangement.  My renewal looks at where I am today and how, or if I would, change my actions/choices.  And, what is my response with family's social niceties.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another Trip Around the Sun

So, I turn 61 today.  That is hard to imagine. Sixty-one years seems like a very long time. And yet there are times where it feels like I am just getting started, and others where I feel my age.

Time is an odd thing anyway.

You can't see it.

And there are times when an hour seems to take forever, and others where it flies.

 

We measure life by time, instead of by wisdom, learning, experiences, love, joy and even sorrow.

Who I am today, is a compilation of experiences way more than time.

I have lived a full life of emotions. I have felt deeply and loved fully and also felt the deep loss of family.  Or perhaps more the loss of relating.

 

My mother's latest card, shows me that she sees me as unforgiving, and that there is a loving family waiting for me, when I do.

I am a child. An unforgiving one. One that doesn't see the caring family.  One who only sees the abuse.  I am a 61 year old child.  In her eyes.

 

I see, or more, feel my forgiveness.  Forgiveness is knowing that the past could be no different.  I own it. I have moved beyond hoping that life could have been different.  I have played with the cards I have been given. I have created a life beyond abuse.

 

In my 61 years, I have related to many whose relationships I cherish. I have learned from so many women who have lived life differently than mine. Who have shown me badass ways, and loving alternatives. 

I have learned to relate to the little girl inside of me.  The one who didn't have to forgive and forget her abuse.  The girl needed me to be empowered, to have a voice and a choice.  To stand on shaky legs and say what I needed to say. She and I relate well with each other. We face the world with all we know. We are a team of one.

 

Sixty-one years has taught me about myself, and how every interaction I have, I bring me.

I bring the child with trauma, the badass who stood up, the mom, the grandma, the wife, the girlfriend, the adventure girl, like stacking dolls, we are all one.

 

My experiences in relating to myself and even the lack of relating and denial, are all part of who I am.  I understand deeply what happens when I deny myself to get along or people please.  I am not spared.  I eventually have to deal with the part of me I left behind. There are consequences to being someone you are not.  You get a life that isn't true for you.

 

Life, I believe requires the real you to show up.

Life wants to relate to you, not the pretend you.

 

Age doesn't really matter to me.  Yes, there are many years that have passed since the day I was born.  I have lived, it feels like, many lives.  I was able to experience life on so many different levels.  

Being old (er) feels like the most free of lives.

It fits me the best.

I know me and am comfortable being me.

I know what it took to get here.

I am grateful for my journey today.

There may be many who would like me to do things differently, to be a different me.  

I hear you.

And disagree.

I love being a disagreeing woman.  

I love that I can disappoint you, and still have a good day - a good life.

This lesson was the hardest for me to learn.

Here's to another trip around the sun!  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isn't Just One Kind

"she was tired.

it was one mess after another.

every time she turned around

but when she looked at the spaces

in between the messes - 

or the rings around those very spots -

she saw beauty.

here.

and there.

and over here. 

mess surrounded by beauty.

beauty surrounded by mess.

she leaned her head back and smiled.

and stood up once again." 

                                      Terri St. Cloud

This is a great reminder, that life isn't all one thing.  It is many things.  Some are hurtful and others are delightful.  We feel sad and then see a brilliant sunset.  There are days where the past pops in and messes with your head, and then you snowshoe among the decorated trees.   

If you just look at the whole landscape, the beauty that surrounds the messes, the messes are not so overwhelming or even prominent.  

And, we can easily get stuck staring at the mess, and forget to take a break and be in wonder.

When we glance away from the mess, we can see that there isn't just one kind.  That we have both, and often more beauty than messes.

Often what we call messes are just lessons arriving or consequences from past choices, and some messes are others, and not ours to unravel.

In the past few weeks I have had a note arrive, that created a mess in my head for awhile, until I look elsewhere and perhaps gather more space between the mess and Me.

And, by snowshoeing in snow covered trees, their beauty reduces the mess to a puddle.

I have had a message exchange, that I spent a few days mulling over.  Whose responsibility was the mess really?  What was my contribution to the mess and what lessons can I learn?  And, sprinkled around the mess were Christmas decorations.

I love this reminder, life isn't just one kind.

Thanks for Being Mine.

There are many to thank for their kindness to me, as I worked to get myself back up after falling down, with what I call a mental breakdown out of denial.  I am 15 years into this process.

 

My mind was broken, my self-identity blown, and she was supposed to live and recreate a self, while being an utter mess.  

I think my saving grace, was that I allowed my mental-ness to show.  I accepted reluctantly, my new past.  I didn't coverup my wounds, but spoke of them.

I wrote and spoke about the mess I found myself in.  

My messy Me.

 

And, surprisingly there were a few women who were okay with that. Friends who accepted me as I changed.  My heart is forever thankful for each of you. You provided me a safe place to unravel and knit myself together.

 

And, the more I talked about it, the more new friends I made.

And, they too seemed okay with this mental messy me.

They didn't want for me, anything I didn't want for me.

They didn't try to save my faith, or family or even my perfect self.

 

They allowed me to be me, unashamed.

 

Badass women who embraced and even cheered for this mess trying to become.

 

While I was a broken mess, I still created art and it wasn't long and a woman appeared; My Lady.

Her wisdom unfolded ahead of my understanding.  She depicted my consciousness ahead of my awareness of who I was becoming.

I loved her, before I loved me.  Or, more - I loved me through her.  Like circling back to myself; while being Me.

 

With My Lady Art, I have met and become friends with others, who cheered for my art, and me.

The ones who have stood by me and are drawn to my art, typically are rebels at heart.  They are the ones who are unique and stick out in the round places.  The misfits and dreamers.  Thank you for showing me I am not alone.  I fit in with you.

 

Another huge part of my journey are the Ladies of WIND - Women in New Directions.

Women who have been creative and adventurous with me. Who have been with me while I grow and play in ways I would not have done alone.

Women who have shared their journeys with me.  Women I have learned from and have become friends with.  Women who are strong in places I was weak.

WIND is 7 years old, so they arrived half way through and have totally helped in rounding out my rough areas.  They have gotten me out camping, hiking, biking, kayaking, snowshoeing, skiing to name a few.  

They have become a circle of soul sisters who do badass things.  

You have allowed my character building to become more open and defined.  

All the new movement out in nature has brought me such peace and wonder.

My world has grown into places I couldn't even imagine.

Thank you to each of you for being yourselves and allowing me to be me! Thanks for being my friend!

 

So, this is to say, I did not walk alone.

I have had circles and circles of folks who gave me room to grow.

 

And, in my home, I am grateful my family allowed me to change.  They accept this me, broken and all, to be who I need to be.  The open safe space they provided, allowed me to reciprocate it back to them.

 

I learned how to be myself, by my husband's refusal to be no one, but himself.

I learned unconditional love IS allowing the other to be themselves, without imposing my conditions. 

I learned family speaks of the hard things and is comfortable with uncomfortable.

Family is where you can be authentic, real and a mess.

Family is comprised of unique individuals living life in ways that suit their personalities. 

Family is loving who you are.

 

To all who have shared this space with me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I love that you were okay walking with this upside down messy broken healing creative lady.

I am not at the end, at least I don't believe I am, and there is much living to do.

It has been a wild and crazy terrifying brilliant journey, and you being part of it has made it that much less lonely.  We are always less alone with a friend.

Thanks for being mine!

 

I M Perfect and it is impossible not to be!