Whole Pup: Body . Mind . Soul

A Mother's Lament on Resentment

2012-02-09T15:39:00.000-08:00

Readers, please note: The following is a very long, incredibly sappy, excruciatingly cry-babyish, narcissistic and melodramatic post. I'm sharing this slightly-embarrassing real-life story with you because it is such a great example of one of my personal tenets for Whole Spirit: Write Things Down, Get Them Into The Light. When we journal or write letters or just talk to somebody about the quiet issues in our lives, it has a way of clearing the path for resolution and completion around those issues. And so, I give you my saga of lament.

I wrote the following post one week ago, on February 1st, but did not publish it until now:

-----------------

Tonight I realized that it's true: I really do resent my daughter.

Tonight, I lay next to her on her bed and quietly wept while she finally fell peacefully asleep.

I wept, because I can't do any of the things for her that, for me, make me the unique individual and parent that I am. The things that I love, that my parents did for me, that help define me to myself. Because.... she won't let me. I'd really hoped this would be a phase that would come and go, have it's day and wear off like so many toddler fads. And yet it started months ago. It started when she could barely talk, we we'd be singing or clapping together, and she's say "No, Mom, s'me!" Now that she can speak in sentences, it comes out clear: "No, Mommy, it's my turn!" or, with increasing frequency, "No Mommy, stop. Stop singing. Mommy no sing. Stop!"

Stop singing.

As in, if I sing for her, or to a song on the radio, or (god-forbid) for myself, she will ceaselessly nag me until I quit.

I was raised a musician, in a musical family, the daughter of a jazz drummer with a resonant deep bass voice and a strong alto who helped teach me to read music from an early age from the church hymnals on Sunday mornings. The three of us are natural musicians -- we would sing scales along with the vacuum cleaner, invent harmonies, beat together in rhythm on the coffee table. (My father's constant use of the table as an instrument lead to noticeable wear in the finish -- his drumming fingers removed it one beat at a time.) We didn't sing together much Von Trapp-style, but that wasn't our style; most of our mutual performances were jokes or sound experiments. We were more likely to sing along to B.B. King, Paul Simon or The Eagles as a family than to "Row Row Row Your Boat" -- although, as a toddler, Mom and I shared a fair number of rounds on that theme.

Music is such a part of me, of my family, that I got my BA in Music. I am not a musician by profession, but it is part of my daily -- even hourly -- existence. I sing all the time. I drum out beats. I play mouth trumpet. My range is greater than two octaves, and that's after it shrunk since I'm not training classically anymore. I don't have perfect pitch but it's close. I can sing just about anything, and I do -- All. The. Time.

So for my 2.5 year old daughter to insist -- INSIST -- that I not sing in her presence, is literally heartbreaking. She will not let me sing. When I insist, and I keep singing, her protests become louder and there is no end to them. She yells at me for as long as I sing...

...and then some. If I'm singing to a song on the radio, and the voice remotely reminds me of her, she tells me to stop singing. "But I'm not singing!" I'll say while the other voice is crooning, so she'll understand that it can't be me. (It is flattering the voices she mistakes for mine, but dammit, why can't I sing for her then?!)

But it's not just singing to the radio. Say she's sick, or missed a nap, and it's bedtime and she needs me. "Mommy, mommy, sit right here," she'll say, her way of telling me she wants to be near my or in my lap while I console her to sleep.

But that's the extent of it. She sits there, I sit there. Because I can't sing to her. Not only that, I can't hum to her. Not only that, I can't touch her. That's right, I can't even gently stroke her hair or offer her a light back rub. She doesn't want me to touch her! At all!

Touch is among the strongest bonds between children and parents. Babies are born into a world of touch; parents are as well, as often parents have an initiation of sorts while they get used to touching, and being touched by, another being in far more intimate ways than they can remember. My mother always stroked my hair in the softest, most loving, gentlest fashion. As a kid, sometimes I'd ask for a headlice check just so I could feel her carefully sifting through my hair, strand by strand, so loving in her looking.

Since she was born, I've tried to give my child that same soft, loving touch. Studies have proven that touch greatly increases infants' ability to thrive when all other measures of nurture are equal (food, shelter, etc.) I love to tough her head, to run my hand along her soft smooth arm, to tickle the bottoms of her feet. She loves to be tickled! And I've always been aware that as she ages, the level of touch will decrease. That's normal and natural in any family.

But what I resent is holding -- if you can call it that -- my hurting child, and not being able to do any of the things I am inspired to do to comfort her. In this instance, I can't sing, I can't hum, I can't even breathe in time -- and I can't touch her. All I can do, in many cases, is lay there unmoving and stare at the wall.

So the best parts of parenting -- the ones that come the most naturally, that make the endless crying and bouts of screaming and occasional projectile vomits and being on call at the drop of a hat a virtual non-issue -- are not available to me at our time of need, neither hers nor mine. Mothering is therefore a one-way street, in which she is nurtured, but I am not. I'm just the lump that has to be there, 24/7, all the time, and I can't even do anything to help. I'm not allowed to express my love in a way that's meaningful to me, well, unless I'm prepared to put up with more yelling and crying screaming to "Stop it, Mommy! Stop!"

And so, this mother finds herself resentful of her own daughter. It's literally been months and months, coming up on a year, and I'm left praying this curse will someday come to an end.

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Word for unedited word, I poured out my heart, but I didn't post it because I wanted to see what would happen after I wrote it down. I wanted to see how quickly it would change. (That, and I realize how horrifically sappy and conceited it is.)

...Sure enough, the universe shifted.

After getting all of that off my heart, I immediately felt better, and was less tense with my daughter. I was also suddenly able to be much more firm with her in a calm, loving way. She's spent a lot of time in the "naughty corner", not just for things she's done (i.e. throwing toys, like any 2 year old) but for trying to talk over me or telling me to stop talking, or stop working, or stop singing.

Circa 2011:
"Don't touch me, Mommy."

I haven't forced a return to my usual frequencies of singing on her, but neither has she complained when I have used my voice. Before I wrote this, I couldn't get a measure in edgewise. Now, she's singing songs with me, and I can use touch as a tool for reassurance and comfort again. The dynamic has completely changed.

Thanks to my wonderful Evil Prince for supporting me through this difficult realization. His advice and encouragement have advanced the transformation on this issue. Granted, it's only been a week, but I hope this new way of being with her is "stuck like a bug" -- namely, like the imaginary StuckBug we play with sometimes. I guess it's time we made up a song for him.

My New Blog is on teh Interwebs

2012-02-06T09:30:00.000-08:00

Friends, just a quick note to let you know that my new blog is up:

...Because We're All at the Center of Infinity

Yeah, Doug Williams doesn't
belong on this blog. Unless he's a
whole foods advocate or something!

It's not quite ready for prime time, but I was inspired to write about the Super Bowl, and well, who's gonna care about that a week from now? So I threw it up there, fodder for the wolves, but so it is. *sigh!*

"Center of Infinity" will not at all be replacing this blog. In fact, often the posts on the two blogs will complement each other. However, this blog will retain my core metaphysical, waaaaay too introspective writings, plus food or recipes, health, nutrition, exercise -- anything related to whole-body-wellness. I've already got several up-and-coming posts for this page in the works. I even carry a little book around in my purse now, just for jotting notes. Yes, me hearties, hoist the main sail and curse like a pirate! There is some serious writing ahead!

...My daughter is 2 1/2. The writing drought is over. Hurray!!!

ch- ch- ch- ch- Changes!!!

2012-01-29T18:48:00.000-08:00

Times... they are a-changin'. And believe it or not, I will soon be utilizing this blog both more often... and more smartly.

You see, I love to write. More importantly, I love to write about myself. ("Narcissist much?" Yes.) Back before I had kids and had a bit more time on my hands, my current conglomeration of blogs and socially networked memberships worked well for me. I organized my blogs, Twitter and Facebook to kinda, sorta work in conjunction, for my own benefit and that of those who wanted to keep up with some aspects of my life, but not others. And it worked.... kinda.

Today I begin to restructure my personal "brand", as it were, here on the Interwebs. Changes, they are a-comin' - changes that may effect this particular url. Currently, I plan to keep this blog (I love WholePup! I am WholePup!) but to shrink the categories of topics I post about here. I will continue to occasionally post about food, diet revolution and recipes in this space. All things health and well-being will go here, but there will be fewer personal stories to go with them. I have a new, bigger and better space for that coming.

In the meantime... I have a TON of bottled up blog posts about eating gluten-free and naturally and Community Supported Agriculture and emotional healing bottled up within me. And I will unpop that cork for you as soon as I have a spiffy new label on the bottle... very soon.

PS. If you see plenty of blank space around this post... yes I know, it's part of the process of change, images will fill those blanks soon enough. =)

...In With The New

2012-01-01T19:25:00.000-08:00

Since my last post of two months ago, things have kind of stayed the same. It's been a crazy-busy-stressful time, and I have done a LOT of eating to help cope with the shortage of personal time and space in my daily life.

I've also been making a mental list -- a double-bulleted mental list -- of

the ways in which my life lacks a reflection of my personal tastes, wants and needs
and
my actual personal tastes, wants and needs.

For example, I have given up the personal time I used to spend listening to music, absorbing it, meditating on it, letting my thoughts form around the sounds until I learn something new about myself. That's time I now spend doing things like fretting about the degree of nastiness ground into our dirty carpet.

...But even given that time, what kind of music would I enjoy? I mean, what bands out there do I really like that much these days? Coming from an avid singer with a music degree, the question seems absurd. But that's how far down the ladder I've put my own wants and needs. It started 12 years ago when I told myself that if I wanted to get out of the godforsaken hellhole I'd wound up stuck in, I needed spend less time analyzing music and more time reading non-fiction and research business/grad-school opportunities.

You see, when I need to carve a new path for myself, the only way I can get there is by removing more-pleasing alternatives from the list of possible options. Otherwise, I become distracted by and get engrossed in more interesting things that don't serve my end goal.

Hence:

It's been years since I knew what genre of fiction is my favorite. Non-fiction creates knowledge, knowledge leads to action, opportunity and jobs!

It's been years since I knew what my favorite musical genre really is. Saving money after college meant: No more CMJ subscription, no more CD-budget, no digital music players or related gadgets to tempt me to spend away my meager savings $0.99 at a time. It also meant more time to read all that non-fiction and watch the news.

Crappin' piece of crap!
I love you, you're all I
have in my alone-time
space...

I seem to remember that my most important piece of furniture was always my stereo. Seriously. My Dad was a jazz musician who always had a kickin' stereo, and I happily inherited them. I've worn a few of them out. I don't even have a stereo in my bedroom now -- you know, the bedroom, the one place I can go and pretend to be alone. I've stole my toddler's boombox, but it isn't in stereo and doesn't even have a headset jack. I can't even "seek" within tracks -- in fact, the only reason I've given myself "permission" to have it in my room is because she's at an age where she'd climb the walls to get it down, and then break it/electrocute herself. So it's not even mine. And it's not good enough to use for "letting my thoughts form around the sounds" anyway. It's a piece of crap.

Yeah.

But it's not like I can just chuck all these learned behaviors. I mean, I still have to save money, especially given the last couple years worth of unexpected income-lowering stuff that's happened to my family. And it's not like I can just close the bedroom door, turn up the stereo and zone out -- as a parent, partner, and daughter-in-the-room-next-door, I'm on-call 24/7. My partner does a great job at attempting to give me some personal time. But I use most of that time completing long-overdue projects, or sleeping.

Therefore, it's not "Out With The Old". Nope, because that's just stupid. Stupid, and would result in Resolutions that are broken within days.

But it's definitely In With The New. Because this year... I WILL invest in music. I WILL read some books just for fun. And I WILL be better for it.

Big Pulsating Ball of Stress... and That's Just Me

2011-11-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

This is not the week from Hell*. Not by a long shot. But it is one of my most stressful weeks in recent memory.

As I discussed in my previous post, this is in large part because I have no healthy way to vent my frustrations and negative energy. This in itself is due in part to the unique relationship between my daughter and I -- specifically, our energy relationship.

Spaced and Displaced
I have a large personal energy space. A big energy "Field". A huge aura. However one wants to put it, mine is always out there - spread waaaaay out there, I can feel its edges touching the world at about 75 to 80 yards out. I can "hold a room", as Suzanne might say, but mostly because it's the only way I know how to be. I'm either holding the room, or riding on the pins and needles before my bubble bursts (which leaves me bedridden and exhausted for about 2 days when it occurs).

If only I felt so neatly contained.

Having a huge Field is not all bad, it's actually been pretty cool for me! It explains why I can sense when certain people enter a room - even when I'm across the crowd on the other side. Their charismatic auras touch mine, and I know who they are by the "scent" of it. It explains, as I've discussed previously, why "crazy" people on Metro buses and subways like to talk to me/at me/lash out at me. They're within my Field, they can feel a connection with someone, and it draws them straight to me.

It explains why, as a young child, my teachers always sat me next to the classroom "troublemakers" - the kids who would not or could not sit still. My teachers explained to my Mom that I had a "calming effect" on these children. (Too bad this also meant that I was generally segregated with the "bad" kids and contributed to my inability to get into the "popular" crowd. Of course, that was also because my Huge Charisma, darkened by depression, also scared the heck out of those kids, who ruled the playground by rumor and intimidation.)

But... I cannot pull in. I'm always "heard", even when I'm trying to be quiet as a mouse, as unimposing on anyone around me. To some people, I'm always loud and overbearing, no matter how my actions may imply something completely different.

Parenthood and Conflicting Energies
Even before she was born, I could feel her bright spark, the enormous charisma to be. Even before she was born, I knew this would cause us to butt heads and create conflict where none is necessary.

For the first 34 years of my life, when I need to "recharge my batteries and refill my tank" (again to paraphrase Suzanne), I take my huge broad energy Field somewhere BIG and LONELY. I take a walk in the woods and fill up the woods, and let the woods fill me. Then I am able to pull in and journal about my needs and experiences.

When the woods are not available, I hole up in my home. I shut the door, I hibernate, I block out sound and sometimes light, I occasionally block out thought with a comfortable old action flick, I let my energy Field spread out in safety -- in the knowledge that anything it touches is not going to ask anything of me. I don't have to "be there" for anyone but myself. I can rest in the solitude of my mind's eye, and block out any outer influences that may be tugging on the rims of my Field.

...A solace that is Not Possible when there is a Giant in the next room, constantly demanding to know where you are, what you are doing, when you are coming back, and why you're not being with them, at EVERY GIVEN MOMENT. Argh! No matter how I try, I can't block her out. I can get physical, but not spiritual/emotional rest while she's in the same room. I can't rest when she's in the Next room because I can hear her talking, knocking on the door, asking someone "Where's Mommy?", constantly checking up on me.

And when I CAN block out the noise, I can feel her huge presence. She has inherited my Field, and that of my father, but her's is like my father's in that it is So Much Larger than mine. We are constantly entangled, sharing the same energetic space, regularly rubbing together the edges and surfaces of our respective auras in ways that are, at times, incredibly grating on a tired adult with no personal space.

What I Must Do, for Her, for Me
I have a responsibility to her - I have to teach her how to manage her wide Field, to use it wisely, to understand that sometimes she will intimidate others without meaning to. I want to help her avoid the confusion of so many of my years, wondering "What did I do?" before I was aware my energy Field existed in the way that it does. I don't want her to make decisions I made to hide myself under layers of fat and let people practically walk all over me, just so I could stay out of the spotlight just a little bit. It's hard, it's really hard. But how can I teach her these things when, as yet, I have no idea how to do it myself?

Thank God, I work for Suzanne. Suzanne! I need your help!!!

*Hell being, in some ways, a subjective term. I honestly don't believe in hell, as I don't believe in a punishing God. I prefer to think of this Life here on Earth as about as hellish a place as any in the universes. ;)

A Year of Significant Change

2011-11-02T07:39:00.000-07:00

What a year this has been.

Squirrel cage-iness...

So many areas of my life are in flux, that I must dub this The Year of Change. There are many ongoing processes in my life, specifically: the Financial, the Emotional/Spiritual, and the Physical (read: my expanding waistband!)

At the moment, I want to discuss those last two. They are closely interrelated. As I work through my emotional issues, long buried, reburying and digging them up again, I am gaining a ton of weight. I thought it was just my medication (which is a known contributor, per my Docs) but it's just become ridiculous. I can't wear my clothes anymore, and my dominate facial feature is now its roundness, including my ever-growing second chin. It's just depressing.

I'm in a cycle I can't seem to break. But I've had a breakthrough: It didn't fully hit me HOW closely my emotional/spiritual issues and my weight are tied until just recently. It really sunk in during a conversation about raising our daughter, and the role our behavior has in teaching her, when my partner asked: "What do you do to vent your [everyday and occasional] frustration? What do you do when you get mad to release that?"

Umm...... nothing..... yep.... thinking some more.... nothing.

Hmm. I eat. Eating/drinking something when I'm frustrated (which is much of the time) makes me feel better.

Other than that, I have no current outlet for my built-up feelings of negativity. I don't have a time in my day when I can run-them-off or work-them-off like I used to. I'm not dog walking or enjoying a vocation that allows me to meditate and physically work off my emotions while getting paid for it. I no longer have a commute to work that forces me to walk in the brisk autumn air and contemplate life as I hoof it to the busstop. And I can't do any of that inner emotional work while I'm doing those regular physical activities I currently have, because I am not able to do that while I am taking care of my daughter at the same time. To do that work, I have to close a part of myself for a time, and I cannot shut that door while I am with her, watching after her, being in the moment with her. That's just how it is.

Something in my everyday has to change, or this cycle won't end. Settling and calming my inner turmoils will not alone be enough to affect my physical being. If it was enough, I wouldn't be in this deep. Something has to change!

Grains, Legumes, and Seeds, Oh My! Plus a Fall Muffin Recipe

2011-10-02T15:36:00.000-07:00

My toddler's got a very sensitive system. Given that she was birthed from me, really, I'm not surprised.

She and I are both now gluten-free and dairy-free, and while she drinks soy milk I also make sure to substitute some of her "dairy" with coconut and almond milk products. Rice... well, we eat so much rice in its whole-grain form, I try to limit processed rice products as much as possible, aside from a cookie here and there.

Because of her gentle system, we have to eat a LOT more whole grains. Oatmeal everyday just doesn't do the trick for her as it does for me. So I've been soaking, and soaking, and cooking, and cooking a LOT!

We regularly consume:
Chickpeas:

Chana masala -- $1 for a box of seasoning that lasts FOREVER, plus dried chickpeas = good eats on the super cheap!

Falafal -- I just need to get it to stay together a bit better. But how easy is falafel -- soaked properly, you don't have to cook the legumes at all! Just chuck everything in the food processer, make little patties and fry 'em up. Easy and DELISH!

Brown Rice:

What doesn't go with brown rice? Here's my favorite rice recipe: Put a little butter/oil in a your favorite rice-cookin' pot. Crack open 3-4 cardamom pods and toss the seeds in. Add 2 cups of WHOLE GRAIN BROWN rice (basmati, long grain - who cares? It's all yummy!). Stir it up for a few seconds, then add 1 can of whole coconut milk (Best brand I've found: Thai Kitchen. So much great cream on top! That's the good stuff!) Add water or broth to equal 4 cups total liquid. (Usually I just put in another can full of liquid plus a little bit. Then the can is ready to go into recycling. =) Bring to a boil, stir, cover, and simmer for about 30-40 minutes. Tip: Eat this for breakfast with some maple syrup. No joke - so good!

Almonds:

FALL MUFFIN RECIPE. Chuck 1.5 cups of pecans and 1 cup of blanched slivered almonds in the food processor. Process until you get a moist, fine consistency - but not so much that you make butter. Add: 1/4 cup pumpkin (organic from a can works for us), Almost-1/2-cup honey, 3 eggs, 1/4 tsp baking soda, and 1/8 tsp salt. Chuck in some organic cocoa powder. Crank the machine up and let it go until you get a consistent batter. Fill muffin liners/cups 4/5ths full, and bake at 375 F for 15-20 minutes (until you can push in lightly on the top of one, and it springs back up.) "Dat's Nommy!" exclaims my daughter ;)

I make these muffins, or variations on them, 1 - 2 times a week to keep my family in supply. They are GREAT with a cup of morning coffee, or as an afternoon must-eat-before-dinner snack.

I've recently cooked up mung beans too, but haven't found a stellar recipe for them yet. I'll share it when I do!

Silence in the Library

2011-09-05T20:32:00.000-07:00

pic stolen from
www.eastdunbarton.gov.uk

I've been very quiet in this space for much of this summertime. It has not been for lack of something to say.

Rather, my gears have been working hard, I've been changing, shifting, seeing what feels new and what's old and has to go. My thoughts and feeling have either been too fluid to blog about, or too unfinished in their machinations. I'm still very much unfinished with this round of emotional/spiritual movement.

So like any good Library-goer, I've kept quietly to myself, while my head is fully delved into the mental matters at hand. Or not at hand -- I'm not actually holding any book. I'm just sitting, thinking, dreaming, planning, wondering, deciding, choosing.

...We've also been watching quite a lot of Doctor Who this summer, so "Silence in the Library" is on the tip of my brain. LOVE that episode. ;)

More to come soon. I'm starting to come out the other side of my summer's reverie. I can feel the shifting winds of Fall, the approaching energy of change. I've always loved the Fall!

"Adrift" on a Pendulum of My Own Making

2011-07-24T13:25:00.000-07:00

Here's another brief update on my crazy path to... well, not to enlightenment, because if I did that, I'd have to die or become a famous recluse or something and that's not what I want in this life LOL!

So yes.... the recent road has been a rocky one. I've determined that for me, learning and re-learning my own spiritual/emotional/egotistical truths is like swinging on a giant pendulum. You get some momentum going in one direction... and next thing you know, you're so far off the bandwagon you can't even remember where you left it!

During this morning's service at UoLC, I gave that pendulum a bit of thought. It's always been there, always thwarting me (as if "thwart" is the right word, as it's part of me and therefore neutral on its own -- I make it the enemy.) I have a hard time with consistency and process. Regular meditation, or really, regular Anything, just doesn't work unless I'm threatened with a failing grade or loss of income (haha!) I am not a consistent, regular person, and this makes the swing of the pendulum that much more powerful.

....However, if the analogy of the pendulum is true, then that means that I spend as much time on the enlightened side as the "hell in a handbasket" side. But... I know that I've spent much more time of my life on the not-meditating, not-taking-care-of-my-spiritual-needs-dutifully side. And yet, I've come so far! Which leads me to conclude that The Enlightened Side of the Pendulum Is Far More Powerful Than the Ego-Driven Side. It means that -- although I may have swung only a slight way into the light, I then find myself FLUNG deep into the side of the grey*-and-muddled, the opaque fog of the ego's separation.

That realization, however, give me great hope. It means that I don't HAVE to venture far into the side of light to minimize the grey in my life. I can stay close to the center of gravity; a little to the light more than makes up for a little on the opaque side. I don't have to be über-vigilant, like some yogi meditating for hours on end, or facing East at the same time everyday in obedience to... well, to myself, to my own spiritual quest for fullness.

....But a little well-spent time here and there, as I can manage it -- that is fit to keep my vision clear and light the way!

*One word I was taught British-spelling as a small child in an American school, and which I refuse to write with American spelling. The "e" is so much more dignified, befitting such a complex color.

I Decide

2011-07-16T19:24:00.000-07:00

"When in doubt, Ground & Fill"

I need to remember those words much more often, and practice them.

My internal landscape is markedly different than it was a week ago. So much of me is still the same, but I've shifted enough to start turning the tide. That's pretty awesome! But it also means that when I look at last Saturday's post... WOW that seems old school. And embarrassing. So long ago.

When I look at my thoughts about it, I stop on the word "embarrassing" -- ding ding! alarm bells -- That's my core issue, isn't it? Reappearing? Despite all my work, here is evidence of how far I have to go. A squirrel cage staring me right in the face.

Fortunately, I know how to get out of the cage now. I just have to remember to do it, to choose it, frequently.

...And, there's still that thing about disliking the sound of my own voice. I heard it echoed back to me on an International VoIP call yesterday, thanks to the delay. My voice is sooooo much prettier in my head! Clearer, crisper, it sounds more educated, smoother without being so... I dunno... I don't like a quality that my speaking voice has. Nasal perhaps. I have the same local accent that I hear in other women that I don't like. It's so earthy and mundane. Bleh.

Last week, my voice was part of my identity. This week, it's not. I'm not sure I can explain it yet - what exactly has changed in me - but I now can see with eyes wide open how my body is just a vessel, I should love and honor it, and how it looks or sounds or behaves is really not remotely important, except in that it's amazing. Because we are all, each of us, amazing. (I'll go into that another day.)

When I heard my voice yesterday, I did indeed find that I dislike it. But I didn't take it personally. Whoa, big change! I perceive that my accent is a product of where I grew up, and my tone quality is a product of genetics (the shape of my vocal chords, mouth and related internal structures). And therefore, it's entirely unique to me. While I can't help that I don't like is aesthetically, I can accept that it represents aspects of my life that I really love, namely: Being a true Northern Virginian (Arlington baby! The 7-0-3! LOL) and being a person with a very distinctive voice best suited to singing rather than talking.

You Decide
This is the title of my current favorite song. It's one of those songs I want everyone to listen to -- we all have those songs! We want to share them with the whole world! I Love this song. It's so '90s alt-rock, soft-indie-rock lovely, and lyrically profound. Fortunately, anyone can listen to it on MySpace.

This page has posted the lyrics. I encourage you to pop over and give them a quick skim at the least. I can now feel how true the words are, I now choose to decide!

So Afraid of the Sun

2011-07-14T08:05:00.000-07:00

So very much has happened in the last few days, that in the few minutes of time I have right now, I wouldn't know where to begin.

With the amazing support of my amazing life partner, with whom I chose to be with everyday, I have taken some big steps in my journey. Explanations will have to come later. I'm still processing, and it will be a book to write it all down.

I understand now why these are my favorite words of great literature. For the past 30 years, I've played my part well - too well! Hid myself from myself! And warped it, and turned it inside out, so noone would dare believe these words could apply to me. But twist them and they do. Now... it's time to make some big changes in my internal landscape.

Henry IV Part I Act I Scene 2:

Henry V. I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyoked humour of your idleness:
Yet herein will I imitate the sun, 300
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists 305
Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. 310
So, when this loose behavior I throw off
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;
And like bright metal on a sullen ground, 315
My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time when men think least I will.

Turning Points

2011-07-09T18:00:00.000-07:00

I hate hearing the sound of my own voice. Pretty much always have... well, that's not true. There was a time when it delighted me. A time when I reveled in the technological power of being able to hit RECORD and PLAY on my cassette player simultaneously... and replay it later.

But the days of the mock radio shows and the first two songs I ever wrote ("Swim Like a Mermaid" and "Lazy Smurf") were short-lived. Somewhere in there, I learned to dread the sound of my own vocal chords vibrating. Yet despite this, I still managed to get a degree in Vocal Music Performance.

Listening to my own voice.... Why why why does it shame me so?

Likewise, as I've mentioned here before, I hate confrontation. Yet despite a distinct aversion to it, I managed to be able to stick up for myself -- through physical means if absolutely necessary -- up until my Freshman year in high school. And then, rather suddenly, I couldn't anymore.

These two must occurrences must be related.

Volleyball and Vocals
My freshman year in high school, my family moved to a very small town in Virginia, some miles outside a populace 2-stoplight town. Having spent several years roaming the corridors of Ballston, which was across the street from our apartment, the move was a major adjustment. (Let's just say that I am qualified to write a book on the subject of culture shock, and leave it at that.)

I'd spent the prior few years in middle school feeling constant humiliation. Plus my one saving grace - my voice - never seemed quite good enough. I made it into the special girl's show choir, but was never one of the stars of the group. I auditioned for regional chorus and didn't make it. That was a sad, sad day, and shocked my chorus teacher as much as me.

Starting high school in a new town gave me a kind of new freedom. None of these people knew me! I could start again. And I Did, Full Out. By the end of the year I was one of the top students in my class, taking multiple honors courses, had been a starter on the JV Volleyball team with a great career ahead of me, and I was one of the school's premier singers. Yep, that's right -- as a freshman, I was in the school's most elite vocal group, and that group was the JOY of my existence. I mean, I got to dance with Craig and Paul! One was the basketball star (NICEST guy, loved him) and the other -- oh how I crushed on him! He was SO sweet, kind, thoughtful, and CUTE. I wished I was partnered with him more frequently, but there's only so much you can do in a performing group when one boy and one girl (me) are quite a bit taller than the others.

Looking back on it now... it was a teenage girl's heaven. It's true, I was stuck in the middle of effing nowhere, hardly any friends, a DC city girl often ostracized by Southerners and rednecks, but I knew I was going somewhere. That year I also took 2nd place in the school science fair, and I won the school-motto competition. (Only, no one knows that I did. The Brothers-H "won" and got all the attention, then later it was determined that they cheated, and as second place, I then "won" be default. It was all very hush-hush, and like I said, I doubt anyone really knew. The Brothers-H were big names in that there school, practically untouchable, and hence, they were both pricks.) Yeah, so there was nowhere for me to go but UP. That is, until we moved back to Ballston.

...With the exception of my sports career. It started out AWESOME. I came on the team as a freshman starter, usurping a spot from one of the older girls. The coach encouraged me to ignore this girls threats -- she was quite mean to me. But I was the better player.

The girl even started stealing things from my gym locker, or destroying my classwork - whatever she or her friends could do. But I was only able to catch her once, so nothing could be done about it. I had no recourse, no way to protect myself from the constant harassment.

As the school year progressed, our team got really good. We went to District Championships. We lost the final game, but it was AMAZING nonetheless! We were going to states! Only, just then, we moved back to Ballston.

However, there's more to this story. By the end there, I was no longer the regular starter in my position. In fact, I had pretty much lost all my outward aggression. It was no longer within me to run at the net, jump and slam the ball down into someone's face. Nor was I able to take a slam to the face with any sort of grace. I'd become afraid of the ball, and afraid of physical aggression in general.

And yet, just months before, I had kicked the shins of the boy who was harassing my friend and I. Less than a year later, I was incapable of such an act. I was incapable of defending myself at all.

Why?

By the time I got back to Arlington at the end of my freshman year, sports were nearly out of the question. Too much confrontation. But I still had my voice! I KNEW I was good now, I'd had my fresh start!

My guidance counselor put me into the Advanced Choir. It's where I belonged, wasn't it? I was coming out of the elite group in one school, and moving into the advanced group in another (obviously I couldn't be put straight into Madrigals). Made sense to me.

For two days, I was accosted by my classmates -- "What are you doing here? Wait, what grade are you? You're not supposed to be here!" Yet the music was straight-forward and beautiful. I had no problem catching up with the new music. I could already sight-read well enough to easily keep up. However -- My counselor had messed up. Freshmen weren't ALLOWED in Advanced choir. After two days, I was moved to the Regular Choir.

With apologies to any friend who were in choir with me back in the day - Regular Choir was like a slap in the face. The music was juvenile, half the students were juveniles, and the other half couldn't speak *English. Thus began three YEARS of torment and torture at the hands of the music department and the teacher's pets of the music department. I still have trouble grappling with my anger and resentments misplaced there. I had a terrible experience - and yet, screw them, I STILL got a degree in music (that I haven't done squat with). Rawr.

But I'm still at a loss as to WHY I can't stand the sound of my voice or WHY I decided to shun all forms of physical aggression. I KNOW I can sing. I KNEW I could kick ASS on the Volleyball court. Why take that away from myself? What is it about the timing of these occurrences? And why are they related, as I instinctively feel that they are?

Sigh.

*I highly respect the school's ESOL program for putting students in choir. Singing a new language is a fabulous way to learn to pronounce it.

Part 2: Shimmery Energies & Voluminous Fields

2011-07-07T15:26:00.000-07:00

The Part of this Blog Posting in the First, Also Known at Part One.

In the above post I wrote:

A few months ago, I took a workshop entitled Skills to Energize Your Life. In this course, I opened to thinking of "auras" in terms of space as well. I'd dabbled in it before, but my experience here was pretty concrete - someone who knew what they were talking about, who is an expert in such things, verified for me some things I'd come to believe about my personal energy style.

This is where, for the first time in my life, someone confirmed for me that my "aura" is big.

I mean, everyone's energy field has varying sizes. When you're trying to be still and quiet and unseen, like a mouse, you may pull yourself inward. Some people are like that naturally - they tend to be the "quiet ones" -- that girl or boy in the classroom who's there, but whose name everyone always forgets. Or the one person in the office meetings who has impeccable attendence, and yet it seems like they're never there.

Some people who are aware of their personal energy boundaries can even control the size. They can pull it in or expand it as the occasion warrants. I think my Dad was one, but he wasn't necessarily aware of it happening. His default presence was massive. I could tell when he'd entered a room without looking toward the door. I just knew, I could feel him.

The guy I had a massive, unrequited, tortured crush on as a teen was the same way. Literally, the cafeteria could be bustling with gangly youths of al kinds, but as soon as he entered the room -- no many how many tables away I was, or how blocked my line of sight -- I knew it. All I had to do to verify it was stand up and crane my neck a little bit-- wait -- yep, there he is!

My "aura", I had confirmed this past April, is just as big. Like, All of the Time. Because I can't control it. My "aura" is naturally wide most of the time. It's what puts a lot of people off about me - I may come across as "overbearing" even if all I'm doing is sitting in the room, looking around, minding my own business.

It's why some of my friendships have ended. People think I'm "judging" them when I haven't said a word. Or, based on a feeling, misinterpret what I do say, when the negetive vibe they may be feeling off me probably has nothing whatsoever to do with them.

It's why -- perhaps -- I have no problem picking up on a friendship that left off years ago. (That one, I can't explain yet, just trust for now that I think there's a connection there.)

It's part of why I was so good at "ESP" games as a kid. ("Are your eyes shut?" "Yes! Are you concentrating on something?" "Yes!" Then I'd imagine a kind of stick-man of light wandering through the room. I'd just watch him, doing my darnedest not to direct him. It was uncanny how frequently he pointed me toward the chosen object.)

Most Importanly, It's why Crazy People Talk To Me In Public Places. And this... this I need to explore in further detail.

Shimmery Energies & Voluminous Fields, Pt. 1

2011-07-05T22:06:00.000-07:00

Time for some more stream-of-consciousnessing. (Yes, it is a word! My word. I like it.)

I'm not certain what I need to write about tonight, but I've known for over a day now that I need to write tonight -- that I need to get on with it, that I can't stall on this, that I need to keep going before I lose it. Because I've "lost" "it" too many times before. Not this time. And so, tonight, I sacrifice physical rest (sleep) so that I may continue to give some much needed rest to my emotional and spiritual aspects, rest in the sense that R.E.M. sleep is vital to our physical refreshment even while we are working very hard in dreaming at the time.

Gah, I use a lot of words. I like the words, but I still hear my teachers' voices telling me that you won't. Time and place, time and place, I'm not submitting this blog post to anyone for their professional review. Just me.

Letting the topics come as they may

What am I called to explore within tonight? I have a couple draft topics saved to the queue, but I'm not ready to go there yet. They are... too dark and painful for Right Now. I still have to get up in the morning and go to work, ya' know. They'd drain me dry and I'd end up useless on the job and at home tomorrow (rather, later today). Can't have that right now.

Energies seems to be the word most on the tip of the brain. I can feel it floating there, right near the spot where I feel inspiration and assuredness. It's flitting about. Mostly, because I feel it's not mine to discuss at the moment. Energies is my husband's. Energies is what he's naturally about. He's a Reiki practitioner and it came to him naturally. He senses things that I can't even tell are there. His presence is so much more fine tuned than mine -- my energy presence is so big, so uncontained, that it drowns everything else out.

...So maybe that's what I need to talk about. Big Sigh. I suppose I should Start from the Beginning so as to Not Completely Lose any readers who are starting to wonder if I'm a Loon.

Energy Presence: A Truly Basic Primer by someone who only half knows what they're gibbering on about

I've always felt connected to the world around me. We all do, or have, at some time or another. Even if it's just the rush of human understanding you may get when a good movie or TV show comes to an end -- that's a version of it.

Let me go in another direction. People talk about "auras". They give auras these colors, assign traits to them like they're horoscopes or something. Here's my take on auras: Everyone has a unique energy field around them. It fills us, it envelopes us, it can envelope that which surrounds us. Rather than color, I've always tended to think of them in terms of texture and the quality of light. Take me, for example: One of three strong-willed, intelligent, very different sisters. My Mom and I have always sensed that I am the shimmery one. If I were a rainbow, I'd be a fine-glittery one. My closest sister, she glows. He light is both more subtle and more steady. The oldest of us -- she can't help but be flashy, even on her dullest day. She sparkles!!!

A few months ago, I took a workshop entitled Skills to Energize Your Life. In this course, I opened to thinking of "auras" in terms of space as well. I'd dabbled in it before, but my experience here was pretty concrete - someone who knew what they were talking about, who is an expert in such things, verified for me some things I'd come to believe about my personal energy style.

More to come - my baby's awake and needs attention. Part II to come eventually!

Learning A New Way To Be --> One Day at a Time

2011-07-03T15:14:00.000-07:00

In this post, I want to talk about my process this past week and how it's shaping me.

Last Monday and Tuesday I was home exhausted. Totally fatigued, ridiculously sleepy. I may have had a bug on top of my sleep issue. Or, I may have been like Zuko while my body channeled some pent-up negative energy out into the physical world. I think it was all of the above, and both, and Yes.

Tuesday I could have gone to work - but I could feel, instinctively, that if I did, I would have compromised my ability to finish out the rest of the week without a significant amount of stress. I am SO FORTUNATE to have a boss who is all about honoring the body, and she respected my need to stay home another day. And wow, what a difference it made!

Tuesday was hellish. I had more energy than I did on Monday, but I felt like crap. Both days, issues in the material world were weighing heavily and needing my attention. And I could feel the energy of my body and spirit working overtime to process all my recent personal discoveries, many of which are recently relayed in this blog. That energy, that change, is what I most needed the time to honor. I know from experience that, when going through a time of personal spiritual change, if I don't take time to process it and incorporate it into both my being and my consciousness, I'll lose it and go back to being like I was before (and generally, once again, totally clueless about how I got like that. The ego loves a good cover-up!)

During those 2 days, I took time to meditate and go through the Third Exploration of Full Body Presence. That was pretty profound for me. I have so much locked tight into my sacrum, in the bones, that brings much tenseness and pain to everyday life. I started taking what I'd learned and working with the energy stored there, thanking it for all its done to protect me in the past and telling it that I really can handle it from now in.

It's so ingrained, it's going to take a Long Time to clear all this stuff out of my system. A long time.

My Idea: Learning it, Feeling it out, Using it
As I've previously mentioned, I have a spiritual idea that I have NOT yet shared with you. It's a big idea -- so big, I will probably devote a substantial portion of my life and energy to it. But before I do that, I need to learn it, live it, vet it out and see how it will best fit within all the modalities and philosophies and everything else already out there.

I strongly believe that as uniquely created individuals, our paths are all somewhat different. This idea is not for everyone. But it certainly is for me. As I work with it, I find my experience of the spiritual (as I perceive it) to be increasing manyfold. It's super powerful! During this time of personal change, however, it needs to be carefully used and implemented, or I could ruin my own progress (burn myself out as it were.) Which is one reason why I'm not sharing it yet. As part of my own personal issues from early childhood, I have to be an authority on anything I'm espousing (or at least, I have to honestly believe that any product I'm selling is actually "the best of its kind" -- hence why I'm such a crappy salesperson, generally.) So I'm not about to tell you what I'm thinking before it's ready, before I'm ready, as I am NOT prepared for the inevitable negative feedback that ALL ideas get from somewhere. I am TERRIBLE at taking criticism. To invite it on an issue close to my heart at the same time that I'm taking steps that will render me much better at taking criticism -- seems stupid. Haha!

All My Responsibilities
I am a Mom and a Wife and Daughter and a Person on a spiritual journey but I am so much more than that. So I chose to not continue excavating my internal issues on this blog for the last week so that I could honor all my commitments. I hope, this week, to get back to it. I'd start now, but I'm not prepared for the emotional waterfall that will come out of it right now- nope nope, this is a celebratory weekend with my family, it's time to go party for the Fourth of July!

More To Come...

2011-06-30T07:42:00.001-07:00

I have many thoughts and issues to post about in coming days, I just haven't had time to sit and stream-of-conscious-write them out. But I will, I will. =)

Muddled Thoughts and Vivid Dreams: Exhaustion Takes My Day Away

2011-06-27T12:34:00.000-07:00

I am completely and totally exhausted today. Little tasks, like walking the dog or carrying the toddler 10 feet, drain me of my resources. My Mom can't stop commenting on how pale I am.

But it's not a cold, it's not a flu bug that I'm aware of. It's just exhaustion with a couple other symptoms added on here and there, like occasional light headaches. I have a sleep test in less than 2 weeks -- boy, does that seem like a far away date (at the moment)! Two weeks! What if I'm like this for the next two weeks?!?!

....If I truly am casein intolerant, then if I was still eating dairy right now, I'd think I had a sinus infection. But I don't have mounds of snot and post-nasal drip since I went "off the cream-sauce", as it were.

Alternate Realities: Zuko's Illness

I am very aware that there is a another reason why my exhaustion may have intensified over the last 36 hours. I could be falling into a brief but intense period of illness while my body and the mental pathways of my brain work overtime to catch-up with the evolutions recently made in my spiritual and emotional lives, much like when Zuko falls ill while he realizes that he can choose NOT to live up to his father's expectations. Avatar: The Last Airbender really is quite an enlightened series!

This weekend has been particularly marked by moments of profound realizations, enlightened moments, Eureka! moments. I feel called to really start exploring the boundaries of my "idea" to see if it stands, and if it can help people. It has already helped me! My own perceptual lens (to use a term from Full Body Presence) has been cracked wide open a couple times this weekend.

Saturday night was full of intense thought and wonder for me. I wrote pages in my journal in a very short time, on topics ranging from infinity and alternate universes to the purpose of pain. It was a good night.

Sunday morning I fulfilled my regular volunteer duty as sound-person at the new thought church I attend. (I LOVE Unity!) Looking through the lens of the realizations I had made the night before, the experience of the service was more personal and powerful than ever. The words we say every week as part of the service were far more real to me than they've ever been. Once again, I knew that I was in the right place for me, for my spiritual development. And I could see how, if my idea helps me delve that much more deeply into my chosen spiritual path, then I have to continue exploring it and work on a way to present it to others. (I'm not ready to share yet, but I will be soon enough, in its time.) Then I watched several episodes of Through the Wormhole yesterday afternoon while I was too tired to do anything but recline on the couch. MIND blowing within the context of new age spiritual ideas! (Or rather, mind TRAINING, as the universe miraculously fits my current beliefs. Wow, can't avoid some of my personal spiritual truths now when the science supports them.)

Therefore -- Between rewriting my thoughts about personal safety and humiliation, to meditating on Full Body Presence, to mentally exploring the outer edges of the Universe and FAR beyond -- I've written a few new mental pathways that suredly do NOT match some of the longstanding energy patterns within my body. It's happening so fast, my body can't keep up. Hence, my state of sickness-ala-Zuko.

If you don't know the story of Zuko, here's a VERY short recap: He's a prince whose own father scarred and banished him just for having a personal opinion and speaking out of turn. He spends years desparately trying to redeem himself in the eyes of his father, a megalomaniac who could care less about his son. When Zuko starts to see that he is NOT the evil man his father is, that he can choose a different path -- he falls ill and wakes up a new man no longer bound to his past, free to move forward as he sees fit.

...Yet, Zuko still finds himself tempted by his old ways, and for a while reverts to his tortured, evil self. If I don't make a point of continuing on this journey for myself - of meditating, studying, thinking, growing -- I will lose my progress and revert back to the same old painful patterns I've had for years. If I don't allow myself the time and attention to healing, I never will. Old habits are awfully hard to break.

And so, here I am... exhausted, my tummy is a big black sore pit of voidness (it's where my old habits have balled up and trapped so much energy in the name of self-protection). My eyes are semi-vacant as my ego is trying to set up shop there, and skew my vision so that I am tricked into halting my progress. My legs are sore and resistant to forward movement. The back of my head is really, really heavy - I don't know what that's about, it's always been like that, but it's even more so now as I continue down this path. Having written all of this, I'm coming out of it feeling better in my head but crappy all over. Time for another nap?

Yeah, time for some more rest. I'm EXHAUSTED.

Avoiding Confrontation: I take some toddler-free time to consider why I am like I am

2011-06-25T11:47:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday afternoon, and I've taken refuge in my favorite local coffee shop in order to catch up on some tasks and write a little bit in this blog.

It's not the relaxing time I'd envisioned -- there are some big happenings/events taking place in my life this weekend, and as I have some responsibilities to attend to there, I'm having a hard time disassociating myself from it so that I can "relax" and enjoy my personal time all to myself.

...Plus, I find myself multi-tasking. The 'Net connection here is ridiculously slow today, so I'm starting this blog post in Notepad while I wait for pages to load. So I'm blogging on personal, emotional topics while completely unrelated business is taking place ever so slowly in the background.

Letting the Knowledge Settle In

It's really taken a good week for it to sink in that I know who my attacker was. It was a very sly kind of attack, it's weird to call it that, but I can't move on until I fully accept that it was an attack, and that I was not at fault for letting it happen.

I've been swindled! And that's my fault -- NO NO it's not! It's not my fault! I've been conned.

This past week went by in a whirl. I would find myself zoned out, head in the clouds, thinking "OH! So that's why..." such-and-such is so in my life that's always left me mystified. For instance, why I'm totally embarrassed when I find a certain type of man attractive. In addition to their other similar traits, I've always perceived these men as very trustworthy, and yet - it's always been humiliating to me that I find them remotely attractive. Now it makes sense! I'm terrified of getting swindled again!

(When I look back on some of the relationships that almost-were, it's pretty amazing. Wow, so THAT'S why I fell for him. THAT'S why it played out like it did. Huh!)

Unanswered Questions, Namely: WHY Don't I Defend Myself?

My Sad Story post started with a rumination on bullying and self-defense. Ironically, however, I haven't figured out how these two scenarios link together. Or rather, it's probably obvious, but I've done such a good job of being in denial for so long, I can't see it.

So... I made myself into not-a-target. I did everything I could to avoid being a target by blending into the background or appearing intimidating in some way to those on the hunt. I was fat, disheveled, super-smart, disarmingly honest. Different aspects of my defenses were built at different times (anyone else seen The Wall?) and there came a point when being ardent in self-defense (as I was when I held strong to my lollipop) was nearly unthinkable, except in the gravest of circumstances -- which, until now, I've carefully avoided!

I think that I have discerned that I was cute and thin until the second time that a stranger in a van stopped and asked me to get in and give him directions. (We live by a Safeway and a McDonalds. Go ask a damn adult! I'd think to myself, as I said "No!" and pedaled away!) Obviously, children like me were in demand. I would NOT be taken advantage of again.

But why go about it by avoiding confrontation? Why not take some self-defense classes, make my parents put me in Tae Kwon Do classes instead of Scouts and Soccer?

...Because the girls who are being confronted are still, well, being confronted. I didn't want the attention to come my way at all.

Leave me the eff alone, people. Just leave me alone.

The Sad Story of What Happened When I Was Four

2011-06-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

After 9-11, I started visiting a psychologist to help with a bit of PTSD. (I was born and raised in Arlington and I could watch the Pentagon burn from my house.) I was already pretty dang depressed, but the additional stress of being afraid of further attacks, plus being one of the 50,000 area residents to lose their job that week as part of the aftermath, warranted some professional help (despite my grad-student poverty).

Working with Dr. H, I started having some memories return to me. Several traumatic incidents came to the surface, but the most scarring of them all remained partially clouded in mystery. I uncovered that I had been molested as a young girl. Yet, much of the story remained hidden from me. For instance, I have this memory of walking to school in the first grade, fervently telling myself to forget forget forget forget but I feel in my gut that what I was trying to hide wasn't just the incident. There was more to it than that.

In the five days since I alluded to the incident in my birthday blog post, much of the shroud over this history has been lifted. It turns out that I never fully discussed it with my Mom. I thought I had! I was sure I had. So I told her again, for the first time.

It really hurt her to hear it.

And, as she talked with me about it, it became clear why I never told her. She could pretty easily figure out who did it.

And here we come to the cruz of my messed-upedness around this incident. It was more important to me that I forget who than what. This is because, long story short, I saw my humiliation as my fault, not his. You see, I didn't understand that he had done something wrong until months later, at which point, I was completely humiliated to think about it, realizing that I let him take advantage of me without any clue that it was a bad thing.

At the time he molested me, we were about to move. We moved. Some time passed (Days? Months? All the same to a kid.) He had his own personal demons, and ultimately committed suicide.

And... he was one of my Mom's best friends. Best friends! My Mom didn't have many close friends, ever. She cherished her friendship with this man. I couldn't take that away from her, when it was my fault! So instead, I chose to forget it ever happened. Which really worked for a good, oh... 20 years. It worked so well that when asked in class if anyone had been molested or knew someone who had been molested, I didn't raise my hand. Thank God that's not me, I thought. Yet I remember this type of class discussion so vividly. SO vividly.

Mom had always wondered why that friend suddenly became so distant after we moved. It wasn't like we were in another state or anything - just a couple counties over. My parents still moved in the same circles.

And I tried desperately to pretend like nothing happened. Both to save my face, and his. I think I must have decided to forget about it after his suicide, to protect his memory. Since I hadn't seen him since, and he could never hurt me again, why allow the knowledge of events to humiliate my parents and ruin my Mother's dear memories of the man. They went through a lot of personal growth together. And I believe (have ALWAYS believed) that all personal growth is valid and that all people have the potential for good.

I know that I forgave this man - the individual - for his actions long ago. However I did not forgive myself. I made sure that it would never happen again. Thirty years later, I'm still punishing myself. Thirty years later, I'm still remembering what happened, everyday, hidden deep within the way I lead my life.

First Steps in Authoritative Personal Awareness and Expression

2011-06-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

First steps... because I've only begun to start changing my mental pathways on the topic. It will take a long time to make it rote.

Authoritative... because I'm still grappling with the realization that I do not believe that my perspective is valid on its own.

Personal Awareness and Expression... because you can have one and not the other, but the enlightened individual has both.

So... where to begin?

I have been really enjoying myself over the past few days. It's not all been fun and sunshine, but I am taking to heart what I wrote about enjoying myself. Because really, in the here and now, that's all that matters. (That's not to say I'm suddenly a hedonist. On the contrary - I know that service to others is enjoyable and fulfilling. I also know that I'm easily amused by childish things. And I know how to chose time and place for appropriate actions.)

I have been having a LOT more fun playing with my daughter! I've even gotten some exercise out of it! And singing/dancing in the car without a care has been both enjoyable and helped keep me awake while I deal with some sleep issues. Plus, since I'm aware of my naturally child-like nature and constant curiosity about even the simplest mechanisms apparent in our lives (physical and otherwise), I've allowed myself to express that when I otherwise might have stifled it, in fear of those who say I'm not adult-enough. (I have my detractors, though it was never my intention to rub them the wrong way.)

Yet, thus far, the authoritativeness I've expressed has been limited to within me. I allow myself to act on my first inclinations, thereby expressing self-assertion -- I've not broadened the experiment to the outside world yet. But I'm thinking about it, a lot. Preparing to start taking those tentative steps (can assertiveness be tentative?)

See, ya, I'm not quite ready yet! But I'm workin' on it.

However, I have learned more about why I'm self-unassertive. When I was really little, I was naturally able to stand up for myself. I was a bit of a boss, really. In one famous incident, the man at the end of a haunted house tour growled for my lollipop. I was five at the time. I gripped my lollipop even tighter and shouted, "No!" Both the man and my parents thought this was hilarious, and my Mom congratulated me for "sticking to your guns".

That was the last time I stuck to my guns without thinking it through first. For the next 20 years, anytime I took action on my own to stand up for myself or others, I planned it out very carefully. I abhorred all-out displays of aggression, with one exception for a bully who was harassing a friend. I carefully concocted a scheme that led up to my kicking him hard in the shins until he promised never to bother us again. It was the one and only "fight" I ever got into -- and the only way I felt I had to resolve the situation. (Occasionally, kids know that telling an adult just isn't going to help.)

Other than that one time, I've been avoiding conflict for YEARS. When I was bullied in middle school, I avoided them. Once I was quick-thinking enough to double the lies back on my bully and get her in trouble instead of me (as was her goal) but I did it using cunning and wits, not nails and fists.

Memories of all the times I've been bullied or made to feel low are flooding back to me. But I'm not here on this blog to catalogue all of them.

But I might know where it all started. I'll talk about that in another post.

I've made so many realizations, that I've started losing track of them. A few days ago I could have written a bang-up post, super exciting and informative! Then I kept having more "Oh, duh!" moments, and more, and they're piled up such that I can't see the trees for the forest. D'oh!

Further Adventures in Identity Awareness

2011-06-16T12:34:00.000-07:00

What a year. What a season. What a month. What a week!

I can say with a grin that the above statement pretty much sums up my life right about now.

As I type this, I am pausing to take a deep breath, drink in the moment, create thought. I'm at my standard blog-writing, stream-of-consciousness crossroads: Where to begin? Which convoluted pathways of connected ideas am I focusing on today for this brief thesis?

(Yes, I really do think like that. I am not concise. I like words. I talk like that too, although I have a harder time stringing the words together when they are to be spoken as opposed to written. Ask my husband, he finishes my sentences for me because I can never remember the words in the moment of speaking them. ;)

OK, enough about me. Let's talk about me. LOL! God, this is an obtuse, arrogant post! But it needs to be. I need to talk "out loud" about me in order to get to the heart of who I am. Because I've never fully let myself express what's naturally occurring inside. Parts of me, yes, but I can see now how I've caged up (or severely reigned-in) some rather important parts of my personality. And in parsing out those aspects of myself, I can see where my self-censorship once served a purpose, but the need is no longer there. Time to clear out the trash and other mental detritus and let me be me.

Because honestly, I like me. But I terrified that you won't. But I think you'll like me better - or at least tolerate me better - if I learn to allow myself to be unabashedly, unapologetically me.

Mi mi mi mi mi..... giggle!

A lot's been happening in my brain since the Mokey-post. Opening myself to the possibility of being a philosopher has been freeing on so many levels. Since early-childhood, I've been heavily concerned with credibility. Overly-concerned with it (although until recently, I didn't know it.) How can I be a musician if I can't play an instrument? How can I be an artist if I haven't taken an instructive course? How can I do or be anything if I don't have the background to prove that I know what I'm doing or what I'm talking about? You see, I do not believe that my perspective is valid on its own. I was fooled by an adult at a tender 4 years of age. When I realized that what he'd shared with me was wrong, I was completely humiliated. I'm still horribly embarrassed that I allowed myself to be so awfully taken advantage of.

I swore I would never allow that to happen again, and built my life after that around protecting myself from being used or tricked into compliance by anyone. I made myself smart, quick-thinking, people-pleasing, adaptive, and able to guess what was wanted ahead of time so that I was always over-prepared and ready for anything. I also made myself into an unattractive target. I would never again be so pretty as to invite that type of thuggery to myself (note: this transition took several years and a couple more negative incidents with schoolboys). I would make any man who would be with me PROVE that he was with me for me, an no other reason. (I realize I'm really damn lucky I found such a man, as I ask so much of him.)

I would avoid all situations that might lead to feeling a fool. I learned to avoid competition - to lose was to be seen as a bigger target - and slowly got worse and worse at anything athletic. I embraced the grunge movement's sense of style and emphasis on the insides versus exterior appearances. And I kept myself a general expert in as many subjects as possible so as to never get backed into a corner on anything, for any reason.

Sadly, this also means that I shot myself in the foot -- by never specializing, I never became a credible expert in anything. People know I'm smart, they know I have a lot of interests, they know I never settle into one steady livelihood. But what do I really know? How can I be a respected musician if I've never written a song? (But everyone knows I can write music.) How can I write a book on a topic I've merely thought about for 30 years, but never studied or travailed with? ....Writing such a book is the one idea that's stuck with me consistently in life as "Oh, that would be fun and fulfilling!" "Someday, I'll totally do that! Once I've gained some credibility." Like that will ever happen!

By thinking like Mokey, I've allowed myself to look past some of these nonsensical issues. I don't have to be a credible expert to start seriously recording my big philosophical ideas. (Heck, I can always cite corroborative evidence from Other credible sources.) I can look at the people out there whose whole lives seem to revolve around just the things that they like -- things like geekdom or gaming or war reenactment or surfing or whatever -- and not wonder how they can do that, how they can reduce their lives to eat-sleep-work a boring job-do what they want. I've always seen them and questioned myself: How can they give themselves the right to focus so much of their lives on one cultural area, allowing themselves to maintain a lack of knowledge in other culturally significant areas, thus leaving themselves open to ridicule and disrespect by those heavily involved in other areas of society?

Dang convoluted, I know. But when one is trying to shield oneself from ALL forms of unintentional humiliation, these are the kinds of global perspectives one must have. Yes, this is really how I think. It's just so ingrained now, so practiced and part of me, I don't even hear the thoughts in my head. They're integrated into my mental framework that all other thought must occur within.

Which brings me to my latest set of realizations, brought about by copious episodes of the new series of Doctor Who. I can be Mokey! I can finally allow myself to be the philosopher inside! I can let the overly-symbolic, far-too-wordy poet in me that was bashed by my peers in high school to resurface! I can be that esoteric again --> In Public! I can... wait a minute, who's this guy in this show I've been watching for a month now? Holy shite, he sounds like the way I talk to myself in my head. I've rarely found a fictional character that I can so greatly relate to, even among my favorite genres, books and programs. They're never quite right. But here's this totally random and insane smart funny guy with lots of big thoughts and big words backed by big perspectives, and he revels in it. He's totally unembarrassed by it -- no matter "Who" he is.

Don't get me wrong - much as I love the show, I'm not crazy, I'm not Doctor Who. But what the show provides for me is an example of someone who is not afraid of many of the characteristics and personality traits that, within myself, I tend to hide in the dark. It's like, once again, a form of permission to be myself -- oddly enough, I see in Mokey and the Doctor a form of public credibility for the person that I see myself to be inside, that I rarely express at any one time in full. It's like it's OK now for me to be that person, to see what it feels like to let the various aspects of craziness and oddity in me out into the daylight all at the same time. Which DEFINITELY makes me vulnerable to commentary by anyone in my immediate vicinity, because let me tell you, I have a HUGE personality and I talk to myself and sing in public. No SERIOUSLY, that's naturally the person that I am.

But what I've learned from the writers, producers, and actors on this big popular BBC TV show is: What's really important is not that I have the ideas, or think about them, or act on them, but that I enjoy them. Being ridiculed for them doesn't really matter so much if I have a sense of personal satisfaction in life earned by being the way I really want to be, no matter how silly/geeky/ignorant that may appear to somebody else.

(For any Facebook friends reading this who saw my recent photo comment on babies, animals and vagrants -- it's seriously true. My energy is such that when I open up and be myself, all the crazy people on the bus or Metro have to start to talk to me or about me. They talk to the ceiling and ask me questions, they yell at me, they propose to me. And all I'm doing it just sitting there trying to be small!)

....Man, I gotta think about that. Being me will open me up to more unwanted solicitations by strangers. I'm totally unprepared for how to deal with that, having spent my life avoiding them. And God knows I have a small child just like me - who draws people to her, who is beautiful, whose very existence makes it inevitable that she will receive a similar humiliation as I did. If I can't be myself and defend myself, how can I teach her to do the same?

By the way: Hey, Me, Happy Birthday. Do yourself a favor like writing a long blog post about yourself today, get some catharsis out of it. For someone like you, that will make it a much happier birthday. =)

Collecting Mediational Video and Audio

2011-06-12T16:44:00.000-07:00

This past week, on a whim, I've decided to start searching out YouTube and the rest of the web/world for daily meditational aids in the form of short videos and audios. This being the case, I have two meditations to share with you. I've used them both and can definitely recommend them.

First: Audio Explorations 1 & 2 - Full Body Presence
Full Body Presence: Learning to Listen to Your Body's Wisdom is an inspiring, potentially life-changing book by Suzanne Scurlock-Durana. To be fair: I do work for her at her company Healing From the Core! But I saw her speak and read the book before I came to that position. It's an honor and a blessing for me to work with Suzanne.

Explorations 1 and 2 guide the listener to a meditative state in which you learn to really listen to your body, respect it, and learn to draw from the energy of the Earth and the wisdom of our bodies. Our bodies have an innate wisdom that our culture teaches us to ignore. These audio explorations are the start of a path toward building a better relationship with ourselves -- and in doing so, the universe around us.

Second: Daily Meditation by Icarus3ak on YouTube
Daily Meditation is a 9 minute audio/visual guide for contemplative meditation. It begins with bells (singing bowls possibly?) and a close-crop image of a gorgeous statue of Ganesha. (This is a perfect meditation for Digger readers! ;)

This video helps the viewer clear the mind by providing two primary foci for the attention. Less than a minute in, you can't help by be drawn in by the gorgeous ethereal music based on an "om" (by "Jonathan"). Next you're drawn in by the Third Eye of Ganesha, as you suddenly realize that it seems to be getting closer....

In fact, it is, and it isn't. Icarus3ak masterfully manipulates the image to drawn the viewer in and bring our awareness to the Inner Eye - both the statue's, and our own. By changing the image pixel-by-pixel, s/he takes us on a journey of hypnotic discovery that's surprising (as a first-time viewer) and rewarding. I don't want to spoil the experience for you -- you gotta try it. I loved it.

Next time: The free Hemi-Sync relaxation and sleep CD from The Monroe Institute. Definitely worthy of its own post!

Begin at the Beginning?

2011-06-12T11:18:00.001-07:00

This is a blog post about me, for me, for the purpose of spurring some movement on an issue. If it doesn't make sense to you the reader, please skip down below -- I just need to get some words out into the air!

Oh, I'm all mixed up.

I have this idea, a theory of spirituality, that I want to research and share, but per my big-deal-out-of-little personality type, I'm having a hard time narrowing down just how to go about it.

I want to blog about it, but I'm holding off for now -- I'm thinking I'll need a new website for it first. It needs its own blog just about that.

The idea of opening a blank .doc and just... WRITING, with no audience but me, is, well, boring. I'm afraid if I start, my idea will get lost there and left there. But really, if I'm honest, that's the way I should go.

I want to research and possibly copyright my idea too. I don't want to make money off it, but I don't want someone ELSE to make money off of it. That'd just be wrong, for anyone to take it and create some messed evangelical organization from a concept that's meant to promote compassion and understanding. I do, however, need to eat and pay bills, just like everyone else. But riches are not for me. (But if someone else got rich from my idea, delivered to them by me -- boy I'd be JEALOUS!! lol!!!)

Hmmm.............................

Wait a Minute... I CAN be what I really want to be!

2011-06-04T08:10:00.000-07:00

Please note that I am still coming off casein, and just awoke from the most intense dream before writing this. My head feels a bit underwater. But write I must!

Yesterday afternoon, a lightbulb went off in my brain, and I found myself sitting at our booth at the Association for Comprehensive Energy Psychology thinking to myself, "Oh! Wait, I CAN be Mokey!"

This story starts 25 years ago. The truth is, I wanted to be a philosopher when I grew up. Mokey Fraggle was one of my idols - the philosopher fraggle, who loved to sing and write poems and create art and think about the meaning of life. That's exactly what I wanted to do.

However, I quickly learned that being a philosopher is an unrealistic goal. I don't remember the conversations with adults that I must have had, but I came to the conclusion that I could never allow myself to be a philosopher unless I could determine a way to make a reliable source of income from it. To date, that's never quite happened, though I came close a couple times. (...Close to determining a way, not to making any headway, as it were.)

Yet if I think about it, being a philosopher is still what I've always wanted to do. More than sing, or compose, or create art - those are parts of the whole. I've spent hours of my life discovering grand schemes for existence, and evaluating them, comparing them, and reading the conclusions of others. I started a spiritual-philosophical book collection, which I then stopped, both because I didn't want to devote so much time to something I could never do, and because with the boom in the self-help section over the last 15 years, it's an expensive hobby to have!

To make a long story short, I can see now where I've devised 25,000 ways to do what I want to do without actually doing it. All of my career schemes have involved some level of philosophy, and sharing what I've learned with others, so that their lives may be better. I'm told that my voice, when used to sing, can do that. I've seriously considered being a religious leader, a stained-glass maker (thwarted only by lack of proper ventilation!), a pet sitter (lots of time to think), multiple times I've considered song writing, and on and on. But all I really want to do is think about the world at large and share my thoughts with others, so that they might improve their lives.

(I've also struggled with having the right to tell people what I think. How do I prove that I have a valid point of view? I am no one, after all. But I am also Everyone.)

Making Mokey a Reality
Yesterday I was sitting surrounded by people who understand the importance of meditation, relaxation, and compassion. The science supporting energy psychology is stacking up, and most of the people I met had unrefutable research behind their products and the benefits they provide to help one attain a better whole being. A couple of them seemed a bit fruity, but there's no doubt that what they offer works. And they're selling it for ridiculous sums of money.

I have no interest in earning ridiculous amounts of money -- if I did, I'd give most of it away. That's not a lifestyle I crave. But I do want to make a decent living. It dawned on me that my boss, a leader in the field of energy presence/awareness and cranio-sacral therapy, is a philosopher who is right now making a living teaching others what she's learned. Many of the exhibitors, speakers and attendees at this conference are doing the very same thing, at least in part. And then it dawned on me:

I have an idea.

I've had a grand idea rolling about in my head for a couple months now. I've been putting a lot of thought to it, thinking about how I can get the idea out there without going bankrupt.

I have lots of ways to express this idea, my hardship comes in narrowing it down. Express it as a work of fiction? Write a novel? Self-help? Music? Integrate it with something else? Go religious and teach it from the pulpit?

Wait a minute... I CAN be Mokey!!!

I still have a lot of thought and preparation to give it. Indeed, I have not explored the philosophical limits of my idea yet (out of fear) but I know that I will. And maybe, maybe we can do it together. I will finally be living the stuff of my childhood dreams.

Casein Withdrawal Sucks

2011-06-02T22:35:00.000-07:00

Wow, I haven't been here in over a year.

Here I sit, on my couch, laptop on lap, FAT. WAY too fat. It sucks.

Yet, this last year has been hard. A year ago I had no idea what was in store. Well, I had an inkling, but I was hoping for the best. Things haven't gone as planned, and I ended up relying on chocolate and milk products to help manage my stress level. My post pardem depression was pretty bad, and I'm not about to mess with that -- I made a choice to get fat rather than be completely off the wall and an unreliable/depressed parent. While I feel bad about myself due to my weight, better that than feel bad about myself for making my kid feel bad about herself.

Anywho, I'm back now, coming out of the dark (so to speak). Life is still uber-stressful, with several major unresolved issues that I can't do much about except wait, and wait, and pray. So, in the meantime, I'm quitting dairy.

You're what? Where did that come from? It turns out that my now 21-month old baby girl is casein-intolerant. Well, I'm assuming it's casein and not just lactose, because the level of mucus in her system has greatly decreased. In the last 3 weeks off dairy, her colic has gone away and she's more vibrant and smart and active than she's been in months! She had been slowly regressing for a few months, and it'd been so slow I'd rationalized it away, but her turnaround was so fast there's no denying it. My girl can't have milk protein.

....Out of all the diets and ways of eating I've pursued, giving up casein is the one thing I've never done. And they've all *mostly* worked, but eventually I end up back where I am now - fat, confused, and unhappy. Could casein be the key? God, I've said that So many times before! I've been gluten-free for Years now! And yet, I still ended up here.

Casein: There's Something To It
Five days in and there's little doubt in my mind that I am indeed milk-protein intolerant. The intolerance may have helped trigger celiac disease, I don't know. But either I'm going through some kind of withdrawal, or I've got mono. I really doubt it's the latter!

My primary symptom is SLEEPINESS. Like an addict in rehad, all I want to do it sleep All Day Long. It's making this week long and hard because of it. When I do sleep, I am out cold, having crazy (fun!) dreams! Vivid! Adventurous! Almost hallucinagenic! Hallucina-what? That's GOT to be withdrawal.

I've had some headaches and have been slightly itchier than normal. A friend swears the itches are coming (she experienced them when "coming off" casein). But it's been 4, 5 days now. How long is milk withdrawal supposed to last? Just one or two days, I thought. I haven't found much reliable info about it at all, however -- well, not for the health-conscientious adult. I'm not interested in scouring sites for parents of kids on the autism spectrum for information about myself. I'm too dang sleepy, and that's a pain in the butt.

Off to get more sleep....