IMPERFECT Lady

I Hold You in My Heart

I watched Michele Obama being interviewed about her latest book "The Light We Carry" with Oprah and they talked about Michele's friends.  The ones she calls her Kitchen Table.

 

The Kitchen Table has a relaxed image - one where we don't have to put on aires. We can be ourselves in this group.  In fact, we feel at home with them and our truth is honored.

 

These friends are found along our journey of life.  We carry them with us, as we grow, evolve and face some of life's darkest moments and celebrate with us our achievements and joys.

 

As I sit here today, I am reminded of the girls who have been with me.

Watched me grow and change and lead a life that some can't understand.

 

Not all my friends have continued on with me. Some found my table to hard to sit at - my truths too upsetting to their beliefs.  My voice spoke of things they need kept silent. 

 

There have been times in my life my table was crowded - and other times many empty chairs. 

 

I have a friend from my middle school days - we had years of silence and now we are reconnected.  We both had life experiences that changed us - and yet we still fit together. I treasure our friendship and how she holds so much of my history and embraces my new self.  A friendship that can hold changes feels good to me.

 

When my kids were little, another mom with young kids and I connected. She wasn't from the church I was in at the time. We felt at home with each other - we clicked.   When she moved away, we lost touch for awhile - and now when life throws us a curve ball - the other catches it. She gets me and has loved me unconditionally and I her.

 

I found a friend at one of my jobs who was the best thing that came from working there.  A sister friend is how she feels.  We can share our lives with each other and there is no shame or critical eye. Just an open space to sort out life.  We too had moments in life where our lives were busy and perhaps we didn't need the counseling space - and then other times we talked daily.

 

I have found friends during their time of need and I felt my history of loss would be helpful - and over time we have bonded deeply.  Sisters who have shared darkness and found hope. Sisters who travel down pathways each never saw coming. We have deep heart connections.  And, we walked each other towards the light - found hope in the hopeless and joy we didn't think possible. We have witnessed each others growth and success of thriving after heartache.

 

I love that some of my Kitchen Table friends have encouraged me to be an adventure girl- I have wonderful women who enjoy the outside. These ladies have grown me. I am different with a garage full of gear that I use in different seasons.  Some are badass and make me feel kinda badass myself. Being outside and challenging myself has helped my self-esteem.

 

I have artist friends who are great cheerleaders and sounding blocks. Some have been with me from my very early years.  Sharing your art is sharing your soul.  These are brave vulnerable souls.  

 

I look back at some of the friends I had from the church - wistfully.  We shared the common belief system - and were comrades of sorts - with similar foes.  I have lost some that still hurt my heart - our common ground slipped away.

 

At one time, I thought wrongly - that I didn't need new friends - that I was too old to start making new ones.  

 

What a mistake that would have been.  I continue to meet women who I click with and we are in the early stages of friendship.  We can't know where we go, what we do and how long we share our lives together.

The best part about my kitchen table - we can laugh, cry and be silly. We can share our hopes, our dreams and our deepest fears. We can work out life's difficult questions and debate our differences.  

The differences in my friends help me to see life from so many aspects. Views I couldn't have reached on my own.

 

Being away from my family of origin left me with quite a hole.  These friendship over the past few decades have filled so much emptiness. They opened their arms and hearts to me.

 

One of my oldest friends recently told me that families are not as advertised.

I sat with that awhile and found she was on to something.

 

Friendships and who sits at the Kitchen Table with us is so much different. We decide who is worthy of our time and truths - who come in carrying the fullness of who they are.

My Kitchen Table is much more welcoming as I age - or maybe because I am religionless - but I love the beauty of uniqueness - I love strength of character; I love characters!  

My Kitchen Table has empty chairs and is ever expanding in size - I look forward to the new ones I have yet to meet.

And my kitchen door works both ways. I do understand how some had to leave and more could do so in the future. I part in peace.  I know we lasted our season and reason. Not all are meant to be life long friends.

 

I love my Kitchen Table friends for being who they are, and for making me a better Me. My heart is full when I think of you all.

I hold you in my heart.

Dance Party!

What you don't know.

Yesterday a woman who had great influence in my life turned 90.  I did not celebrate.

This woman began programming me as a young child.

Both in religious ways and codependent dysfunctional ways.

She created the daughter she needed and I dutifully followed her lead.

 

As a child I looked up to her and I believed she was a woman of substance and had high morals and good values. I believed she stood against things that were wrong.

 

I grew up to imitate her.

 

Looking back on it now - I was her - in that my life was dictated by a strict religion and my body was owned by the church. My mind was controlled by its programming and my spirit or soul lived silently in the shadows.

 

Nineteen years ago I woke up to a reality that was nothing like our minds believed.

She wasn't of woman of substance of high morals and values and neither was I.

 

Reality was her husband was a pedophile and had abused me and many others. She knew and forgave him of his sins.

My reality held a father who abused me.

My reality was my mother lacked morals and values - she didn't stand up for the child.

 

Somehow reality leaked into my mind - while hers remained untouched.

 

This break in my mind caused us to be on opposite sides. I never found a spot where we could stand and see somewhat eye to eye.  Her mental mind and my open one had nothing in common.

 

Her remaining in the program or mental mind a few steps removed from reality - allowed me to see who I had been  - how it is to be in denial.

I had someone to look at to see how mental my mind was.

Once I knew my mind couldn't be trusted, I began challenging it on every level.

And reality became my new religion. I trusted what was.

 

There was a space between my mental mind and me.

That space grew each time I challenged the mind and found it lacking truth and matching reality.

 

Unless you have been brainwashed and then regained your faculties, you will not understand.

 

The contrasts between living a life as a member of strict religious cult and being free- is quite vast. There are no common denominators. No space where we could share overlapping realities.

 

She had a husband.

I had a pedophile.

 

She had a religion with morals and values.

I had a religion who blessed pedophiles of their sins.

 

She lived as a programmed mind.

I was working to free myself from mine.

 

I began making new choices and trying to rectify the past. More, doing today what I wasn't able to do as a child. Standing up and against abuse.

Regardless who I had to stand up against. 

And making choices with different consequences.

Losing much of what I had - in order to give my children a chance at a different legacy.

 

Nineteen years ago was our last conversation in person. The last time I was in a face to face conversation. 

 

I didn't see a woman there that inspired me.

There was no heart connection.

No warm feelings.

 

Even worse than empty.

She was a mental mind with a body.

 

Blind to reality.

Blind to me.

 

She can only see me when I am compliant with the program.

I know the strength of her mind and I fear its ruthlessness.

 

So what do I do on her birthday. 

A day others celebrate.

Mostly it reminds me of her - and all I lost.

These old family milestones - bring into my reality - the longings for family.

 

Being estranged complicates grief and even the normal family joys.

I am part of - yet apart from.

 

I have a history that is mostly lies.

My fondest memories are tarnished.

I long for the family my mental mind created.

Yet knowing it doesn't exist.

 

She's 90 now.

I didn't celebrate or acknowledge this day to her.

I wasn't even going to here on the blog.

Yet these thoughts and feelings bother me, until I write them out.

 

I am thinking this 90 milestone and the almost 20 years of estrangement has diminished my volume of hope.  

In my early years of being estranged and setting boundaries - a part of me believed that there was hope, that if I could leave the programmed mind, so too could others. 

 

The hope is barely a flicker now - just a spark that ignites for a bit.

 

While many take for granted the family that stands behind them - the familiar shared experiences and memories that create family.  I am very much aware of its absence.

 

This.

 

This is why so many others don't walk way from abusive families. The loneliness and heartache you feel - even if the families you love were all in your mind. They were family.

 

It does feel like a phantom arm - a part of me - that isn't there.

 

My healing and focus began with being authentic and truthful with myself and reality. I began from where I woke up.  Intensely looking at my life, my choices, what my voice was used for, who I stood with and why, or who I stood against and why, what were my morals and values, where they truthful, what is love, what is not love, what brings me joy, what do I feel, what do I not feel - an endless searching for answers.  Answers that became the new me.

The task seemed endless and overwhelming.

To take a mental mind and use it to challenge itself and make choices outside of the program.

 

And in doing so, you go against family.

 

She is 90 and I am 64 - her child.

The child who has nothing to do with her.

 

Not even on her 90th birthday.

 

Some will see me as the bad person here.

Some will celebrate her.

 

I stood by the truth of our estrangement and honored it by doing nothing.

Again.

 

 

This is our relationship now - Estranged - no connection between mother and child.

 

The feelings of being lovingly cared for by a parent feels alien.  

A feeling I have never felt.

 

You cannot celebrate what you don't know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stir my Soul More

After Zion, we headed north to the Great Salt Lake. It was nothing like I expected.

The day we were there, many small birds (maybe ducks) were dead on the beach.

The smell alone made it a less than desirable lake. 

There was an open pit mine near by - we were a week early - for the three hour tour. 

Again, IF you plan - these things you would know. Next time. I will have to do some research before we leave home.

Also by the beach we were at was a Music Venue.

These mountains were in our windshield for miles.

It got a bit crazy around Salt Lake City.  We drove through and went to the Salt Lake First

It was a bit hazy - but we got the idea of the lake.

 

 

At an average water level of 4,200 feet, the lake is approximately 75 miles long and 30 miles wide, with 335 miles of shoreline.

 

Rugged Beaches here - there is an Island called Antelope Island, where they have better beaches. We choose not to go drive up there. 

This is another section, you can get to the water easily; but the smell of rotting birds made it less desirable.  We take for granted the pristine beauty and clarity of Lake Superior. I can't imagine swimming here - but the gentleman who took our Park Fee - said he does. And, that you can tell where you have a little cut, the salt gets into the wound.

 

 

This was the music venue.  There was a gentleman there watching the gate - expecting crowds of young folk.

 

We then drove to the mine - to discover we were a week early - so we decided to explore the Mormon Church. We didn't find the mega church; but found the city block where an older church was and their business offices and conference buildings.  They take up at least a whole city block.

 

It was weird to have the church surrounded by a fence - not real welcoming.

Yet inside there were young folk willing and ready to talk about their religion.

I was intrigued enough to enter and see what was behind the fence.  The flowers were the most welcome sight. They smelled so delicious.  

They are a little beaten down - they were recovering from the latest snowfall.

 

Nature is my religion - and the church felt like a dismal place after the garden - let alone all the wonderful landscapes in the national parks.  

This is the church on Temple Street.  There were young girls - so innocent looking - doing their duty of sharing the message. 

 

One of their church's business offices/conference center. The religion is a big business - 

 

 "Citing some former employees of the fund, the WSJ report at the time said that the Mormon Church's investment fund, Ensign Peak Advisors, had assets worth about $80 billion to $100 billion as of 2019, which easily surpass some of the biggest funds in the world such as Harvard University's endowment..."

This was in a dome shaped building next to the church. More young girls ready and willing to talk.  A man was playing an organ.  The stage and lights seemed out of place.  

I am glad I saw it.     It was Easter weekend, so perhaps they were getting ready for a show/service.

 

I know I am so jaded when it comes to religion. But the contrast between nature and religion and what parts of it stirred my soul.  I felt breathless and inspired by nature - and the Mormon church and city block of buildings that supported it - left me feeling its pretense.

 

They say that less than 50% of the folks who live in and around Salt Lake are Mormons and the numbers are decreasing. 

 

Knowing how a child can be made to follow any cult they are born into - and its costs.  I was relieved to have the city in our rearview.

It was refreshing to see city spaces - of art.

 

For some reason these expressions stir my soul more.

 

 

Feeling Unworthy

Sending love to the deconstructed
church kids that have a weird
relationship with Christmas.
The melancholy or isolated
the ones doing their best to salvage
the good stuff. The ones reimagining
it for the kids, or tossing it altogether.
You're seen and you're doing great.

This was posted by a friend on Facebook.

 

It sorta captures my feelings about Christmas.

 

There is a melancholy for sure.

 

Music and songs from the long ago religion being sung.

Distance and lost faith.

While I feel free - there are now disturbing memories attached to the songs.

 

It isn't that I am seeking any religion to fill this gap.

But, during these holidays it leaves you feeling bereft.

 

Reminders of religion are everywhere and you are sorta made to feel less than, when you don't have a good relationship with faith. Like a true sinner.

 

When folks urge you to "keep Christ" in Christmas - I feel their overbearance.

Christmas lost its innocence - when I lost my faith in religion.

It now carries certain tones and expectations - unmet.

 

I wish there were christmas songs for the deconstructed church kids. For those of us who live outside of faith.

 

I thought of faith and hope and love this christmas.

And, I find those can be non-religious, and more - sentiments of love.

 

It would be good if you could salvage the good from the bad and make a mismatched christmas - that was more about love and less about christ.

 

I do have a problem with a god who has a special child.

Just as I would have trouble with a parent who had one.

 

My heart weeps for me as a child - in a religion that made her feel less than.

The unworthy child.  

 

O Holy Night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

My new belief is that each child is born worthy - complete and sin free.

It is only our minds that create them less.

 

Like I said, a complicated relationship now with songs of christmas.

If we were all taught we were perfect just as we are, then we wouldn't need a religion to 'save' us.

It seems that it creates the lack and then sells the fulfillment.

 

My reimagined Christmas is love.

Where each person is perfect. 

We don't need to add or take away anything.

Our worth isn't dependent upon someone else.

 

I love my kids just as they are. They don't have to do a thing to become more worthy - and the same for my little grandchildren. I would hate for them to even think for a moment they were not whole and complete just as they are.

 

I am grateful for love and the love I have for my family and friends - and total acceptance of who they are. There is nothing I could add to make them whole. 

 

At the end of the day I am relieved that it is over - tucked away for another year.

The ghosts of feeling unworthy.

 

 

 

Who Feel Like Home

I was challenged today about not trusting christians.  I promised to write it out.

 

This is my third draft and I think I figured a few things out.

 

First I will be using my abusive childhood to help illustrate for it shows the dramatic changes of heart.

 

My last conversation with my mother was her telling me, that we had two different perceptions of my father.

 

I recall hollering back to her, there is only one - he’s in an orange jumpsuit in the Houghton County Jail.  Meaning he no longer is a father - he changed my perception to an abuser.

 

 

Is it really possible to see the same thing so drastically different?

 

At first I thought those who are defending religion were like my mother - defending - her views against mine.  

 

But, then I realized they were more like me, or like I used to be.  

 

I was sold on family and religion. I believed in both - and looking back - I don’t know how I didn’t know.

 

I also thought that I was the loving one - that I brought love to my family.  But that isn’t true. I didn’t know love.  I only knew what love wasn’t.

 

Did my family and religion change?

Or did I.

 

What I believe to be more true is that I discovered love. I learned to love me.  I learned about boundaries and what my own truths were - I questioned my own values and perceptions - I watched my own actions how much I lived my own truths and spoke them out loud.

 

I believe that my definition of love changed. 

My family and my religion did not.

 

I changed my perceptions.

About love and about my self.

 

In my world, and in my heart of hearts - I feel I am one with reality.

 

 

As for not trusting christians.  I am still doubtful.

 

I would change it to being skeptical of most.

 

 

I am grateful for those who shared their words, their faith, and love of religion. You have added a gradation to my painting a wide sweep - there are tones. So not all the same.

 

I see myself in you.

 

I also see my old habits of black and white, with us or against us - sentiments showing.

 

A bad habit of mine.

 

For I do see the world more nuanced.

 

With a heap of skepticism on religions.

Perhaps our definitions of love are in various tones as well.  We all decide what love is.

 

 

I still feel the uncomfortable space that opens up when I am asked about God and Religion.

 

Equally when I asked about family.  Being estranged isn't the common path.

 

Many who have not left church or family will not be as sensitive to the phrases, questions of others.  How a simple statement - excludes you.

 

Do I trigger doubts in them or do they trigger doubts in Me?

 

I didn’t try to change my childhood family - instead I began changing my own legacy within my home.  By loving me - it is my hope that love will be passed down.  

 

I am redefining what love is - to me.

How love feels and how it engages with others.

I vowed not to let the legacy of abuse define me. What it actually was was a vow to find love - be love.  My greatest legacy to pass to my children is love.  

A love that is accepting, kind, peaceful, joyful, allowing - natural love without constraints of any sort.

 

I believe my childhood family believes in their definition of love and they find it there.

 

As for religion - I have zero desire to find a new religion.

It isn’t a place of love for me.

 

My church is where love is.

 

While the sentiments of my previous post is about religion and christians - What I believe the source of both is - is love.

Each person and the church they follow - has a definition of love - a sentiment that has standards and morals.  Your love matches.

The old adage, "Birds of the feather flock together" has relevance.  The flock is what they called parishioners in the past.  Who you fly with matters.  

My flock is small - misfits - who find themselves outside of what is called normal - the imperfect souls.

The tagline of this blog "I M Perfect and it is impossible not to be.

We fly with those who feel like home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Celebrate Individual Freedoms

On this Independence Day, most will celebrate Freedom - and I believe there are many who cannot see beyond their own choices; in religion and love, and I guess politics.  They want to color the whole world so it reflects their own choices.

Many never have practiced freedom and yet celebrate it like it is something they know intimately.

 

I wasn't able to know freedom until I knew what not being free was.

Freedom begins in the mind.

With our thoughts and beliefs.

 

For so many years I believed that others needed to change.

Others needed to do things differently

Love different,

Be different,

Believe different,

Act different.

Coming from sameness of being in a conservative cult like religion, I wanted everyone to be the same.

Same felt right. Different felt wrong.

 

When so many wave their freedom flags, what they really want is sameness. They don't want US to be free, they want us to be like them. Often many have minds and thoughts/beliefs that will not allow those unlike them to be free.  

 

It wasn't until I was unlike my old church, that I understood this.

I was now one that wasn't okay.

I didn't belong

I didn't think or make the same choices.

I was different.

 

They don't celebrate different or embrace and love different.

 

Freedom isn't conditional - just as many love with conditions, they 'grant' freedom with conditions.

 

It feels most awkward this year to be celebrating freedom - when choices are constricted.

At best it is half freedom day.

Where males are more free than women in our country.

 

Christians want their religion to be free - while they put constraints on other beliefs.

 

I am pretty certain, the more certain you are about your religion and your beliefs - the less you allow others the freedom to believe differently.

 

So many of us were born into conservative thinking and beliefs, in a male dominated home. Born in captivity and celebrating freedom. Freedom few truly know the meaning of.

 

The cage is invisible - yet like an iron curtain in their minds.

 

Practicing freedom means you allow everyone to be free to be themselves, the freedom of choice, voice and action.  Freedom is an individualize way of being. Where power is on the individual - not overruled by a group.

I had to look up the definition

"the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint."

 

So often the ones who are screaming freedom and my body - my choice are the ones trying to restrain others from being free.

 

The flags many are waving are restraint bands.

They want to take away rights from others - so their beliefs and religions appear more right.

The more freedom of choice we have, the more awkward their religion.

 

While their freedom of religion and freedom of independence seems to be what they want - what they really want is for us NOT to be free.

 

They want us to fall into line step behind them. To be and do as they do.

 

If only Independence Day was about independent individuals.

I have to look up independent.

": not subject to control by others : self-governing."

 

This is freedom.

 

Those outside of the church and religions, want the freedom from being controlled - we don't want your beliefs.  And yet those inside beliefs are trickling outside - and restraining freedoms.

 

We don't want to be under the same controls that you all are.

We want self-governing.

That is freedom.

 

If you are in conservative, cult-like, overreaching religion. You don't know freedom at the root level.

Perhaps what you are cheering for is your church and beliefs.

But you are not cheering for those outside of it - to be allowed the same.

 

Freedom isn't just one way.  One right way. One right Church. One right love. One right freedom.

Freedom includes everything.

 

I wish we were really celebrating everyone and all choices.

That is an Independence Day I could celebrate.

I truly want total freedom for all.

Individuals who are free - are peaceful, loving and kind.

For they want for everyone the rights to be themselves.

No matter how it appears.

 

The more we allow everyone their freedom, the more empowered each individual would be.  

When you take away someone's power you are making them less.

 

What seems like an oxymoron, the more freedoms you give someone, the more powerful they become.

Today I would love to celebrate the freedoms of everyone - but we are not all free.

 

Our country may be free from outside rule; but within the country we are losing individual rule. We cannot be a free country when our individuals are not free.

 

They speak of separation of church and state. We actually need separation from other individuals.

We need total empowerment on the individual level.

America is only as free as the one who has the least amount of rights.

 

The strength of any group is as strong as its weakest member.  

My freedom allowed the rest of my house to be free.

We are strong by our individual strengths.

 

I celebrate individual freedom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You do not stand alone.

I stood up for a child.

My child.

My 4 children.

I stood for my siblings.

I stood for their kids.

I stood for the little girl inside of me.

I stood for children everywhere who have been waiting for someone to stand and object.

For someone to see the monsters in their lives.

For someone to hear their voices.

For one ear and one eye show them they are not alone.

 

I stood alone.

I stood shaking

I stood not knowing.

I stood.

 

What does this look like in reality?

What does it take to put a child first?

What does first really really mean?

 

I know I am triggered and reacting to the ways some are 'showing' they care for a child.

 

Here is the deal.

I am a daughter who nobody stood for.

I am a member of a church that didn't stand.

The children in my family and neighborhood and church - had no one stand for us.

 

And, here is another deal.

I stood - when I became aware of sexual abuse within my childhood home.

I stood shaking in horror and disbelief. 

I stood against my father.

I stood against my mother.

I stood against the church who blessed his sins away.

I stood against the ministers who knew and blessed him too.

I stood against the neighbors who knew and kept their kids a way.

I stood against my siblings who supported a father in various ways.

I stood against my siblings who supported my mother.

I stood up and walked away.

I walked away from the excuses, the reasons, the wanting to be part of the church, the family....

You can't be for a child halfway.

This IS black and white.

 

You are either helping the perpetrator or not participating in it.

 

 

This is what standing for a child looks like.

You don't get to decide who you stand against.

You stand for the rights of a child.

You stand for the innocence of the child.

You stand for their mental health - for they think they are crazy and messed up - not that their family and church is.

 

I know I am not addressing the unborn child.

I am talking about how do you prioritize a child who is living - in your home - in your family - in your church. How are you showing them you stand against abuse and for a child?

 

Standing by a child isn't just words.

You can't stand for a child by boycotting companies that support a woman's choice.

You can't stand by a child - only IF it doesn't require you to lose your faith.

 

Here is another deal.

My mother has held on dearly to her faith  -

Dearly.

More dearly than how she held a child.

 

How do I know this.

I am her child.

While she quickly defended her faith and her husband.

She never not once defended me.

 

Standing for a child was not her way.

Standing for a child requires you to have nothing placed before them.

 

What I can't articulate enough is the cost of innocence and what that does to a child.

We grow up feeling we are not enough, we are not valuable etc.

We don't know what it feels like to have a warm soft feeling inside about who we are.

We have been man handled and treated with such disdain by ALL the adults who could have stopped it. So many knew/know and do nothing.

 

I stood and gave names to the Houghton County Detective.

But, what could he do.

I stood and spoke out loud about sexual abuse and estrangement.

I stood and more are now standing with me.

 

Yet, they are also ones who have left the church and often their families.

You don't get to stand for a child when it is convenient  - or comfortable or without a personal cost.

In fact you may lose everything to save one child.

 

You have to put your own life aside - for the child has to come first.

My life as I knew it - shattered.

I would never be the same - thank God.

 

It was and has been my greatest achievement to have stood up against abuse and stood with the child.

 

Again I get it - I am talking about children who are already born. Living - and the ones I am talking about are the ones who had no voice.  

Similar to the unborn the faithful women are talking about.

 

Perhaps it is much much easier to stand for an unborn child - unknown - detached from your own life and the legacy of church and family - than it would be to literally change the patterns within your own faith community and family of origin.

 

My old church the First Apostolic Lutheran Church and the offshoots of it - and the lineage pretty much - all share one common theme. Sexual abuse of its youngest members.  And, if the women are not willing and able to be up in arms about them.  There is now way in hell I can see them standing in line to parent the children that may now be born.

 

In life we can know how things will turn out by past behaviors.

For past behaviors are predictors of the future.

 

I am the oldest girl and my abuse happened oh 55 years or so ago.

I stood up and walked out about 17 plus years ago.

As I sit here today, very little has changed.

 

Abuse still happens.

Silence still echoes.

Support for the perpetrator still happens.

Children are not even close to being first.

 

I often wonder how heaven will be for these faithful women. How they will be able to enjoy paradise knowing the cost of getting there was borne by the children. 

 

I no longer believe that heaven is when we die.

And, I know hell does exist.

But it is here already.

 

I had to look up Faith. For I was wondering what would shatter theirs.

"complete trust or confidence in someone or something."

Since I was them - what I know is that we wholeheartedly believe what we believe, even if what we believe is wrong.  

My faith shattered when I was able to see a truth I hadn't seen.

 

It was my innocence.

When someone saw the monster I felt my father to be. I was set free.

 

Which is why I keep writing - when I feel there is a gap in the dialogue - when I feel this voice needs to be spoken.

 

What I know for sure is that if we can stop the cycles of abuse, if each family can start flipping the patterns, we will have less abuse, more love and awareness. 

The blind faithful will not be the change we need in the world.

We need women who will stand with the children; let's start with the ones who are already born.

 

I stand with those who are already standing.

Who have stood and walked the walk.

May this trend keep moving and growing.

 

In these moments where women feel helpless - you are not.

We need awareness, kindness, compassion, empathy. We need to hold the world in balance.

We need more love, joy and peace.

We can be parent we wish we had.

We can be the adult who knows and stands up.

 

I stand with those who stood up in their own lives. I know the cost.

We are badass, strong, resilient, resourceful, courageous, and loving.

 

I heard on a podcast that humanity always bends towards kindness - the arch as seen in hindsight.

I have to believe this is true.

We are part of those pulling things back towards kindness.

You know who you are.

 

The counter measure toward injustice will be doing the opposite.

Pull hard to sway humanity back into balance.

 

I send loving kindness to those faith full women who know not what they do.

And I send love and strength to those who are already standing.

You do not stand alone.

 

 

When I saw this picture it seemed to fit.

 

 

Their Own Child

How many people are aware of things they are wrong about? Most of us were not taught discernment or have the ability to change our minds/beliefs.  

 

I was raised in a black and white world. I was taught that 'our' church is the only church going to heaven. I was taught that everyone outside of the church was evil.  I was programmed to see the world with a myopic lens.  Very very narrow and completely and utterly wrong.

 

It was embarrassing and mind blowing and brilliantly thrilling to see how wrong I was.

 

I am not sure I can articulate the mind I had and how I saw the world. How I saw a father instead of a pedophile, a mother instead of an accomplice, a church of high morals and values instead of a cult that covered up generation upon generation of sexual abuse, physical abuse, and blessed away the truths.

 

Not only was I not in the 'right' church, I wasn't even in my right mind.  I had been completely brainwashed.

Why I am writing about this is there are so many 'christian' folks who believe they are dead to right on so many issues that are anything but black and white. They believe that they can see the world and the people in it through the correct lens.

 

But, their moral high ground - is not filled with morality integrity compassion or love.

I would have sworn years ago that my mother was a woman of substance, that she would not have tolerated any evil doings.  For the love of God, she didn't allow television, earrings and make-up, swearing, lying and cheating - when we were growing up. She didn't believe in birth control or divorce or stepping out of her faith. The list of sins are long and she abided by them.  She was a christian. She was a member of the First Apostolic Lutheran Church. She belonged and was accepted and she viewed the outside world as worldly, evil and any number of negative adjectives.   And YET.  She was married to a pedophile. Knew it. Covered it up. Helped him. 

 

There seems to be this really weird compartmentalizing that goes on. 

Where they have their faith.

The faith that is unshakable and blocks seeing any evil INSIDE of the religion. Inside of their homes. But the outside oh man the wrong doings they can see.  AND the judgement on those folks.  

They literally cannot see how backwards they see and how it has dire consequences for the innocent children in their charge.  

 

Many of the conservative christian women have given up the rights to their own bodies.

In some little ways and then in life altering ways. They are controlled and don't know it.

 

These closed minded folks believe THEY should be the ones deciding things.

Based on what???

Years and years of living in a small tight circle of likeminded folks - being controlled by the elders?

Who have sat in judgement and condemned those who live differently.

Folks who have not been able to see themselves from the outside looking in.

 

I only knew how backwards I was, when my world flipped upside right.

The world wasn't backwards, I WAS.

I cannot emphasize this enough. I WAS WRONG.  

 

 

What I know to be most true is the feelings I had towards myself and others while IN the church and the how my feelings change after leaving.

The night and day difference is mind shattering. Literally. 

 

While they may feel love, compassion, joy and peace IS in the conservative church and that forgiveness of sins IS the only way to heaven and being in the one right and true church, it is all fear.

Fear of the outside.

Fear of sins.

Fear of the body and it's connection to the devil (we were told)

Fear of hell

Fear of not following, conforming, not being part of.

The list of fears are endless.

 

There are grown ass adults who won't leave - due to the shunning.  They are not staying in because of LOVE, they are in the church out of fear of finding out there is no love when you leave.

If these religions were based on love.  

Love is freedom.

Period.  

They would not want to be in charge of making choices for anyone. Period.

 

Love doesn't have conditions.

Love honors truths.

Love doesn't control.

Love allows others to be who they were born to be.

Love lets each person walk their own walk - knowing we don't know what is in their hearts.

Love doesn't take their power away. 

Love empowers.

 

 

The only church I have found that can embrace my wide open heart and mind is nature.

 

When my world was falling a part. I no longer fit into my family of origin and the old church members began to shun me. I was fully accepted and embraced by the sunshine, the earth, the trees; nature.

My nature matched it.

 

My imperfections were perfect.

 

What I want women to know is your choices is yours.

Your journey is yours.

Your heart knows what it knows.

 

Empowered women, empower women.

 

If this reversal shows anything, it will show the narrow cold hearts of so many christians.  It is through narrow eyes and fear full hearts they see the world.

 

My question is, who is on the right side of this? Who has the most open mind and heart? Who walks with compassion and will hold up these women who find themselves in circumstances that few will know unless they walked there.

 

I don't believe folks can make laws/rules etc until they have walked in those shoes.

 

I know many conservative faithful women are standing in righteous contempt and believe to the depth of their souls they get it and are voting for a life.

 

I am also quite sure there are leagues of women who have blessed away sins of sexual abuse of a child - and think they are child advocates. Really.  

I know from my experiences, women of my old church who will stand against abortion; but cannot, will not, stand against the men who are hurting children. They can't stand for the children in the congregation - let alone an unknown, unborn child.

 

I have spoken to many over the years who know someone in their family is committing sexual assault on children - but the only thing they get from our conversations, in the end - is that I am trying to get them to leave the church, to put down their faith and they won't.  

I am not.

I am trying to get them to see that a child's innocence may be worth more than their faith. They disagree. The conversations stop.

They will not leave the church. 

 

How can they stand for up for a child. AND, one that is outside of their church?

Come on.  We are all soiled evil unbelievers -and I am worse I left. 

I know this is off the subject. But, what I want to share is how backwards their minds, hearts and beliefs are.  AND, these are the ones who are saying they stand for a child.

No they don't.

They stand for their faith. Period.

It only sounds christian like to stand for a child.

But, if you won't stand for yours, how will you stand for one outside of your faith.

 

I know this is a long and rambling post.

But I have no faith in the women of faith.

The women who put their faith before anything. Anything even their own child.

 

 

The Loud Few

When I read in the paper - " the silent majority are just dying to speak up" - I thought how confused they are.  The Silent Majority doesn't speak up.  They don't go in parades that would show their sides. They are silent.

Here is the definition of the Silent Majority.

"The silent majority is an unspecified large group of people in a country or group who do not express their opinions publicly."

 

When you are in a Trump train of vehicles - you have stepped out of the silent majority and have chosen a side.  

 

I am confused.

By how so many self proclaimed conservative religious folk  (FALC and Old Apostolic )are supporting Trump.

I cannot see how they can overlook so much about him.

I feel that who he is, what he stands for is at odds with their principles.

Yet, maybe their principles are now showing.

 

Their religious values don't seem to meld with his character - or do they?

 

When the book and the bird disagree - believe the bird or  

Birds of a feather flock together.

 

Something between the two seem to match - it may be deeper than just the outer words.

The systems they both use?

I truly am confused by how vehemently they have thrown their support for him.

 

I also wondered if politics and religion have ever been so closely aligned or in bed together?

I don't recall the actual political leaning of my old religion.  If it had one, I wasn't aware.

Do religions pick candidates?

Or do most churches remain silent.

 

Again, the character of the man - and the character of the folks within these strict religions has to match.

Or, what are you drawn to when you vote?

Do you vote for a person's character?

Is it possible not to have your character involved in being president?

Or more, does character matter in your religions?

In your partners, and friends?

When does character matter?

I have more questions and puzzlements with the strict religions in our area who are so loud about Trump.

I just truly don't get it.

And, then I do.

 

I do understand the juxtaposition, the sleight of hands, the facade and the truth.  My experience of what I thought the church was and what it turned out to be, was completely the opposite.

It was empty of the morals and values I believed were there.

 

A part of me is still fighting for the church.

For it to have deep rooted morals and values, to have humanity at its core.  

And yet,  many of you are showing me, affirming my experience, that the character of the church matches Trump.

 

To have him the presidential candidate -  of the strictest religions up here boggles my mind.

He has become even bigger than the head of the church.

Or so it looks to me, from the outside.

 

It is weird to say the least.

"When someone shows you who they are, Believe them the first time." Dr. Maya Angelou

Harder than believing who Donald Trump is, IS believing who the strict religious people are who are aligned with him.  Who are these people really?

Again, this is an old religion of mine.

One that failed me and still I was wanting more from them.

More value, more morals, more character... more wisdom and intellect and kindness. More humanity and wanting more for everyone - Equality and choices and women's rights etc...when I know, this isn't what their religion is about.

Which is why they match.

Donald Trump is the political representation that equals their religion.

They are not the silent majority; but the loud few.

 

My free spirit parade - humanity all being equal in love peace and joy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One with One

What has been so affirming, in the journey of reclaiming myself and my body from a religion, IS how much the body has been used as a tool against us.  And, how the mind turned into the enemy.  It is as if I was living with two very unfriendly aspects of me - posing as friends.

The church's teachings about the body's sins, and how it was hell bent to bring us to hell, didn't allow me to connect to its wisdom.  Body disassociation - living from the neck up; and even that wasn't good enough.  Our thoughts and imaginations were also not good.

There wasn't a part of ourselves we could seek for refuge.  It was to live separated from the very things that made us Us.  

Years ago, when I found out that I owned my toenails, it was shocking.

I was separate from the large organization that ruled me.

 

There is a member of my old church who comes to the Art shows, and her first, and sometimes only words to me, are about my hair.  "Nice dye job" - or "Interesting color" etc.

She only sees the sins of my hair dying.

She misses seeing me underneath the sinful hair. Just a sinful body.

A sinner.

An outsider.

 

What is hard for me to articulate is that when I was part of the religion, I was not a self, yet I didn't know it. I wasn't able to own/sense/feel or be attached to my body. 

Even that sounds weird.

 

But, I can know how I was back then, by being with someone who is still under the trance/beliefs of the cult.  There is no body or sense of self that is separate from the religion.

They are the religion.

But without a body and mind.

 

Again, I am having trouble depicting the cult and person. For the person is the cult.

And, yet they can see others as belonging (matching) or not.

 

When you exit a cult like religion, and have autonomy of your body/mind and soul - but you are unaware of how to engage with free will. You leave the cult and gain yourself - a body and a fucked up mind.

Literally.

It is to wake up to a very skewed sense of self in a more than alright world.

Whereas prior the world was messed up and we were right. 

Right, being a woman who doesn't have control over her own body.

 

I have tried to talk to many women who are still within the church about how they don't own their own bodies.  They cannot see where they are powerless.

It is odd.

They are under the influence of the church; but unaware.

Totally.

Their minds are completely minds of the church.

This isn't only in my old church; the First Apostolic Lutheran Church, but other churches as well.

Many of these organizations claim humanity, while infringing upon the rights of others, or stating what is wrong with them - being that they are the one right path.

Church members using god and jesus to disconnect people from their own inner truths and bodies.

 

Moving and living dead to the fact of their own body and mind, and its natural wisdom.

How foreign it would be to them and terrifying to own their bodies. To strike out against the church and its sins?  To leave the church and rejoin and connect their body, mind and soul.

Horrifying at nature's dance.

Instead feeling the comfort and peace to live disassociated.

 

The reason I am not interested in finding a new religion, and/or going back to my dysfunctional family IS that I cannot disassociate from Me.

And, the unwritten or even written rules warrant that I leave me behind.

 

There were moments, that I felt that in order to make a choice that would be kind or gentle to the family and religion, I would have had to die. 

I would have had to give up the newly found self.

She was real.

I could not turn away from her.

 

I do not believe that there would be very many adult people who would give up their minds, bodies and souls to enter into a religion.   Which is why most enter in as a child.

They lose agency over their body and mind before they are even aware.

 

It is quite shocking to see women disassociated from their body and minds.

Ruled by an organization; unable to move separately. Think outside of its teachings.

I used to think there was a woman behind there.

But, I know from experience, there is not.

 

When I woke up I felt like a newborn. A toddler in her life.

Unable to make a decision for myself.

A choice with its own voice.

 

I had to walk into my life, sorting out what was Me and what was the church or dysfunctional family.

Each piece of my world had to be reconnected in ways that honored Me.

It is no wonder that the body's freedom and self expression seem awkward at best.

A wondrous vehicle of emotion, feelings, intuition, imagination, expression, passion, that I live in to be Me.

The body isn't Me.

And, the church doesn't own it anymore.

Nor is it a shameful part of the abuse.  

It happened to it.  

So, did religion.

 

My body and mind are tools used by the soul.

We live together experiencing what it is like to be a woman.

 

Oh, the years of my youth that I spent miles from my body.

The numbness.

 

And, yet I am lucky.

There are many who are born into the religions and who die there.

Unaware they have a body and a mind - unable to make a choice and use their voice for self-expression.

I feel I have lived two lives.

One without a body, and one with one.