I M Perfect lady

Category: FALC

  • Victim Finds Her/His Voice

    "A mind convinced against its will, is of the same opinion still" Dale Carnegie.

    What makes us change our minds?

    Is it possible to enter into a dialogue and be persuaded to see life in a new light?

    What stops us from having an open mind; to see the other side?

    I am following a Facebook post where there are two distinct sides. 

    One side who is sharing their experiences of abuse and then those who have not experienced abuse.  

    A side shares how the church (FALC) or religion wasn't supportive.

    Another side claims that of course they would be….or are.

    The volley goes back and forth.

    Will there be a meeting of the minds on this subject?

    How can the dialogue grow into constructive helpful exchanges?

    What happens, in my experience, is that there are two firm sides.

    Are both right?

    Perhaps.

    One side hasn't experienced abuse so doesn't feel it is there.

    The other side has, and it is clear to them.

    However, what then would be the content of the church environment?

    Would it not be those who have been abused and then, those who have not.

    What I guess most are not agreeing with is the amount of abuse.

    The people of the church are weird on this subject, the concept even of there being a huge quantity of abuse within the families who go to this church.

    IF, this were a school, that their children attended, they would withdraw in a heartbeat.

    But, this is different.

    It isn't about the brick and mortar building.

    It isn't about the families themselves.

    IT IS about their faith and way to heaven one day.

    They literally can't leave.

    Nor can they be a believer in the 'badness' of the people of faith.

    It literally would chip away at the wholeness of their belief.

    I have spoke to mothers within the church and when abuse is mentioned within the families that they are part of. When they ask what they can do to keep their children safe, I say, the best you can do is exit the church.  They bulk.  They stop. They refuse to do "that" to keep their children safe.

    I know leaving a church is actually harder for some than staying away from family members that are abusive.

    Both are the only thing that will reduce the threat of abuse for your small child.

    Each time I enter into a conversation like this on line, in a short time, I am told to 'get over it and move along'.  Like, I am the one that is coloring the church with bold strokes of abuse.

    It isn't me.

    I can move along.

    I can be silent.

    I can stop responding to victims.

    AND still abuse will rage on.

    In fact, the best supporter of abusers are those strong unconvinced minds. 

    OH do they love you.

    No matter what ill behavior they go to court for you will refuse to see them in a darker light.

    It is you, "of the same opinion" that are the front lines for the abusers.

    You are their protectors.

    They need you to believe in their innocence.

    To fight us victims.

    To belittle and berate our allegations and experiences of abuse.

    As you do battle with the victims, the abusers are set free.

    I now know, there is nothing I can do with a mind convinced against its will.

    I enter into the conversations for the victims that are brave enough to break their silence.

    We have the conversations NOT for you who are so convinced that the FALC is mostly Lily White, brushed clean from the forgiveness of sins.

    We have the conversations to empower the victims to use their voice.

    To regain the power lost from abuse.

    Speaking out is the answer to the silence of abuse.

    We break the silence, share our stories to take back control of our worlds.

    We don't need your agreement in order to do this.

    Each time a new conversation is started another brave victim finds her/his voice.

    IMG_3775

     

  • Soul Danced

    More from "Will I Ever Be Good Enough" by Karyl McBride.

    "Self-trust, self-love, and self-knowledge can be taught to a daughter only by a mother who possesses those qualities herself. Furthermore, to pass them on successfully, a mother needs to have created an engaged and balanced relationship with her daughter. One of the problems with narcissism is that it does not allow for balance. Daughters of narcissistic mothers live in family environments that are extreme. True to their legacy of distorted love, which has been carried over from generation to generation, most narcissistic mothers either severely over-parent (the engulfing mother) or severely under-parent (the ignoring mother). Although these two parenting styles are seemingly opposite, to a child raised with either narcissistic style, the impact of the opposite is the same. Your self-image becomes distorted and feelings of insecurity seem impossible to shake.

    The engulfing mother smothers, seemingly unaware of her daughter’s unique needs or desires. Perhaps you were raised like this. If so, it is likely that the natural talents you had, the dreams you wanted to pursue, and maybe even the relationships most important to you were rarely nurtured. Your mother constantly sent messages to you about who she needed you to be, instead of validating who you really were. Desperate to merit her love and approval, you conformed, and in the process, lost yourself.

     If you were raised by an ignoring mother, the message she gave you over and over was that you were invisible. She simply did not have enough room in her heart for you. As a result, you were dismissed and discounted. Children with severe ignoring mothers do not receive even the most basic requirements of food, shelter, clothing or protection, let alone guidance and emotional support. Lack of a consistent home environment may have made you feel insecure, unhealthy, or unsuccessful at school. Emotional and physical neglect sends you the message that you don’t matter.

    Having a narcissistic mother, whether she is engulfing or ignoring, makes individuation— a separate sense of self— difficult for a daughter to accomplish. Daughters with unmet emotional needs keep going back to their mothers, hoping to gain their love and respect at a later date. Daughters who have a full emotional “tank” have the confidence to separate in a healthy fashion, and move on into adulthood. Later, in the recovery chapter, we will address this in greater depth. For now, let’s look at the different faces of engulfing and ignoring mothers and their effects on daughters. Karyl

     

    Here is what was puzzling even to me.  I was a narcissistic mother and did not know it.

    The devastating moment in my life when my world fell apart, was when I found a very small self that I followed.  This self is the self that was hidden far beneath the layers of narcissism.

    The self that the church didn't want.

    The self that my mother didn't see.

    The self that I never even knew existed.

    I was self-less, worthless and never enough.  And, when I mothered from there, I gave distorted love.  I didn't see my children as themselves; but an extension of me.  

    On the spectrum I was; perhaps not the worst, but I was clearly there.

    I had to be.

    Coming from whence I came.

    While I have written about my waking up from denial or that denial is my mental illness.  I didn't know that it had a more clinical name.  Narcissism.

    I can clearly remember how I would mother from the far poles of extremes. 

    I can also remember being mothered that way.

    Where it was either all controlling or nothing at all.

    The silence of disapproval deafening.

    The widest hole or biggest gap in the dialogue between me and my estranged family IS the middle.

    Its option isn't available to us.

    They don't even know they are wearing a spectrum of narcissism.

    I find this wildly exciting and completely horrifying to be a recovering narcissistic.

    But my life and world makes more sense.

    I had such issues with my mother, that did seem to go beyond her religious zealous, but I couldn't define it, until this book.

    I knew she played a bigger part in my own dysfunction…that was equal to or greater than my father's sexual abuse.

    I marvel at the hurdles I have had to overcome to be at peace and love myself.

    In the recovery part of the book, we are supposed to come up with "gifts" from our narcissistic parents. That no one is all bad. We did receive good from them too.

    I don't know what my list would hold.

    What good has come from them?

    Perhaps I will need more distance to see this.

    My recovery may be too new.

    The wound barely healed.

    My sights have been on what I have denied, the bad destructive behaviors that I called normal had to be uncovered, felt, and re-worked.

    I will let the list be for now.

    What I know for sure, is how grateful I am to have been given the opportunity to live a life the opposite from being a narcissistic. To be free and self-loving. To live from the middle.

    I also know, that when I find myself in the land of extremes, it is another aspect of narcissism I have to heal.

    What also came to me today, as I pondered the book, was that my estranged family too are on the spectrum. They also have experienced maternal narcissism as their nurturing. 

    As we are separated physically, we are completely attached via the legacy of distorted love that we were given.

    The reason we can't communicate and understand each other is they are still speaking the language of distorted love and I don't love like that no more.

    How grateful am I that I was able to finally see myself. Even if the self was so small it was barely discernible. 

    This little spark is what I mothered, while I simultaneously mothered my children.

    Each sense of self and love, and self trust that grew, so did my ability to nurture.

    It is wildly incredible that a raging narcissist was in charge of healing me. 

    Of recovering the little innocent girl and allowing that little girl to overcome the narcissistic.

    Amazing.

    I knew that there was a mental lady in charge of me finding myself.

    and, loving myself.

    Trusting that the small little self could lead me towards love, peace and joy!

    And, she did!

    Perhaps that is the gift I am most grateful for. 

    The mental lady allowed me to take the lead.

    And, my soul danced!

    12316601_10205163557071085_4505854531650587953_n

     

     

     

     

  • Deny Nothing

     

    http://windsorstar.com/tag/ben-johnson

    Above are links to the news story about a "fallen hockey player".

    What is amazing to me, is how an act of rape is dealt with – in what is known as the rape culture.

    What is rape culture?

    Perhaps it is more the culture of denial.

    How many, besides the court of Canada, believe that he did indeed rape this barely conscious girl?

    How do we as a society treat these cases?

    Who do we support and why?

    How do we look upon the victim and seek all the ways she was 'asking' to be raped?

    And, how do we also try and find all the good parts of the rapist as to minimize or reject his new label of rapist?

    It appears that we as society, and his family, look for many ways to reduce the crime to nothing.  We seek to make her more worthy of rape and he less capable of doing it. To weaken reality to suit our various needs.

    It isn't about reality, as much as it is about our various needs.

    To me, only those who don't need him to be anything, can see clearer.

    Those supporting his good image have the most to loose and their needs are high.

    He was found guilty and sentenced for raping as Superior Court Justice Kirk Munroe ruled… "the girl was unable to consent because she was “near-comatose.”

    What I know to be true in sexual abuse cases is that the perpetrator is most often not believed, even when there are many who speak out about his abusive behaviors.

    My father was a prime example of rape culture, in that the majority of his family supported him.  Only a few actually treating him like a rapist and not a father.

    These not unusual cases, the 'fallen hockey player' and my father.

    It is the rape culture.

    We as a society, don't often hold them accountable for their behaviors.

    Instead we seek to find ways to support them until the crime all but disappears from their character.

    He, my father, didn't have to lift a finger to change his character.

    His family did it for him.

    His wife.

    So too, is the 'fallen hockey player' able to do nothing…but, show in reality who he is, and have his family rush to deny it for him.

    This rush to deny IS the rape culture.

    The victim then is left alone in reality of just who this man is.

    She sees him as the monster who preys upon "near comatose" women. Or, in my father's case little girls.  

    The rape culture isn't about whether it was rape or not, it is more about how we change our minds about who this person is.  

    Another part of the article that caught my eye, was by his lawyer, "Johnson who is now married, is not a risk to reoffend." 

    How does this even come into whether he will offend again or not?

    I do know, that it was shortly after he was found guilty that he married.

    I thought, he is trying to paint a better image.  A married man.

    My father was a married man too.  

    That did nothing to stop him.

    They speak of him losing his dream to play in the NHL.

    There were many and are many, who had dreams for him.

    And, none of them include him being a rapist.

    Whose dreams refuse to be changed?

    It isn't about the now, but the potential of who he was to become.

    The victim's life is forever changed.

    Her potential is greatly reduced, due to the affects from being raped.

    How has his rape affected her world and who she will now be?

    As we look at this case of someone familiar to us, whether it is because we too were raised in the FALC and know the culture in how men are superior to women, what do we see.  

    Will we see how women in the church are treated.

    How men dominate.

    How sexual abuse is covered up and silenced.

    What are we willing to lose to see the reality of a young man raping?

    My world was completely turned upside down when I fully accepted that my father was a sexual predator. 

    As the 'fallen hockey player' registers as a sex offenders list, will his family then see who he is?

    My father was on a list. 

    It didn't change his status from dad to sexual offender.

    Many acts occurred; but few were seen.

    For if you see them, you have to change your mind about the character of the man you thought you knew.

    Denial is the culture of rape.

    Only the strong will see and be able to change their image of him.

    Very few will.

    However, it doesn't mean that a rape didn't occur or that he is a rapist.

    All it means is that you don't want to see him as a rapist.

    Reality is there.

    You want to deny it.

    For your peace and perhaps a dream you once had.

    You don't want to dream, a dream that is a nightmare.

    Where dad's rape and molest little girls.

    Where hockey players with the potential to play in the NHL rape near comatose girls.

    You want a nicer reality, than what is.

    To accept what is, means you lose your rose colored glasses.

    Denial is a preferred place to live.

    It appears nicer.

    Reality unkind.

    Brutal even.

    I live in reality.

    I find peace there.

    Even when fathers and hockey players fall.

    I won't raise a finger to wipe away their stains.

    I am not responsible for how they act.

    I am only responsible to see what is.

    To hear the broken silence of victims.

    We don't break dreams.

    We live with nightmares.

    Reality holds all.

    The good, the bad and the ugly.

    We deny nothing.

    IMG_6050

     

     

     

  • Podcasts by Rob Bell

    Rob Bell and I would not seem to be a natural connection. For his passion or what he loves is often laced with bible verses.  Yet my truth and his deeper level of knowing life match.

     His series on Lamenting is brilliant!  There are 5 parts and they build on each other. I highly recommend listening, IF you are in pain and grief or feel unheard etc. He was a huge affirmation.

     

    In fact, the word Lament means "a passionate expression of grief or sorrow and mourning."

    Perhaps, I am the living example of what he speaks of. 

    He is able to take the past and make it revenant today…if that makes sense.

    And, when I left the church, I didn't leave behind the soul of who I am or the truth of what the Universe Is.  

    I heard on one of his podcasts "Look at your God and you can see who you are."

    I love this. 

    I also heard about one God, one Universe, one Reality, one Truth. Some call it God, I call it Truth.  It is all the same. This is my tone.

    There are not two different realities going on at one time. 

    My lamenting is my expressing my sorrow and grief of all the ramifications of daring to speak your truths against the unspoken rule of what we are allowed to talk about.

    All, I know, is that there are more and more folks who are rising to living a life more authentic and use truth to healing…as a power.

    I feel I am in good company.

    Even for those who have been severely put off by the FALC and its cult like traditions, Rob Bell may be a way to come back to center. 

    In fact, he interviews a woman Rabbi and She is the way forward in all religions. 

    Again, while religion has been a taboo subject for me I found her completely authentic and someone relatable. 

     

    Her tone is delightful – and completely accepting!

    I love that there are some brave souls who have the ability to impact the worlds religions and are daring to push back the old ways that no longer work and are willing to create new energies that will change the world!

    Bringing truth to religion – what a concept! 

    I believe, we intuitively know what connects with the truth. And, we also know when we are moving towards it or away. We can tell by how our life reflects inner peace, love and joy AND freedom!

    God's name of God in the old church had me recoil from it's name. My preferred name is Universe for it doesn't come with the trappings of the old energies of the FALC. 

    In fact, religion as a rule has bad vibes for me.  

    Understanding the Universe has to be where you can apply it to Monday morning.

    If not, it is a dead religion.

    Even if you are not a regular participant in any church, or maybe especially if you are not, you might enjoy these podcasts.  

     

  • There But Not There

    I heard about Ambiguous Loss and Ambiguous Grief today and even the myth of closure, when it comes to death in its various forms. (Pauline Boss)

    The death that I am referring to is the death of a relationship. 

    When it comes to estrangement, ambiguity is its energy completely.

    She spoke about holding two different beliefs at the same time.

    For me it is folks are here and yet gone.

    They are living but our relationship is dead.

    I can't hold just one side.

    I have to carry two.

    Gone and Here.

    Nothing is certain or inexactness.

    And, I think this is for both sides. I don't think it matters who left the relationship just that we both are now no longer in one…yet we are all here.  Alive and, perhaps some of us, grieving its loss.

    We are on Facebook and some will "like" and message, EVEN if in real life we have no contact.  So, there is very weird contact.

    There are more uncertain things, than certain, when it comes to estrangement. 

    Often, the estrangement is over truth. One side wants to embrace it and the other wants to continue to live in the imaginary world.  Pete Rollins speaks of the "Ideal Image" on a podcast with Rob Bell.  (I am Totally enjoying these podcasts)

    Each of us have an idealized image of themselves and the rest of us either support or break that image, often with the truth.  Even how we curate our Facebook pages show an airbrushed version of our lives and who we are.  

    In my estranged relationship, I feel that one side is an airbrushed image of family, while I sit on the untouched up version.  And, I also believe that some feel with time, my untouched version will start to be airbrushed to match theirs. That over time, I will mellow and capitulate my unvarnished truths.

    With the ambiguity of estrangement, how do we live with the gone now showing up in various forms.

    I have had the experience in the past few weeks of comments on Facebook, to Likes, and messages.  I have had a near miss encounter on a beach where my sisters, a brother and mother were on the same day and time as I was.  I didn't see them; but one saw me. I have received a postcard; again….from my mother.

    What is the message of the Universe that they seem to be circling closer to my peace?

    Are they testing the waters to see if my truth has changed – like it can?

    Am I to take stock yet again?

    I feel powerless and violated by their intrusions, even if they were by accident.

    To be seen but not know it.

    For them to feel it is their right, which I guess it is, to tap into my world from time to time.

    To drop notes on postcards, you can't "Returned to Sender" and the words are read before you can even blink.

    I truly don't get why it seems they brush against me from time to time.

    Even my father's victims are often shopping when I am.  In the Dentist and diners. 

    Am I the one who expects finality and a complete exit when it is impossible?

    That has to be right. I want finite when ambiguity is what it is.

    I have to become accepting and obliging to the ambiguity of the gone appearing.

    Of the silent speaking.

    The author Pauline speaks of how hard it is to grieve ambiguity, for it isn't even gone gone.  It is gone and then there.  Or gone for now… but maybe will appear later, one day.

    And closure, forget about it. It will not happen ever.  For you would have to forget you ever had a relationship and that can't be.  You had one.  You parted ways.  It was either your image that was being threatened or you were the truth bearer. How can you close a relationship that was open?  It is open.  Just for some of us, it is a gone and then here, kind of on and off again, see and not seen relationship.

    Here is what I am just now seeing as I write this.  

    Ambiguity IS estrangement with alive people.  

    You will have near misses.

    And perhaps moments where you do feel the need to reach out and do.  

    It is the total flavor of ambiguity.  

    Somehow, I am sure, I believed that my resolute stance on the truth would be equalled on their side.  

    Oh, I understand, they may be ambiguous about where they are or even who.

    While I am certain of a few things.

    I am certain that I was in denial and now I am not.

    I am learning daily who I am and willing to explore deeper and wider to understand different facets of estrangement…as well as myself and life.

    I am even willing to be unknowing of who I am or who I will become – for I am unfolding daily.

    It seems to me, that they are very sure of family and love and their image.  Regardless if it misses a few integral sections of life.

    My estrangement with them, is more about who we are as individuals and what our content is and how much we are willing to leave in its raw form…or how much some  want to cover up the unsightly blemishes.

    I see them as a painter painting over reality to keep an image they need.

    I know, for me, when I stopped painting reality revealed itself.

    It was and often is messy – but it is life at its rawest.

    Ambiguity is what I need to embrace and learn to love and find peace with and give up any idea of closure – even if it was a subconscious desire.

    It is right and normal for this to pop up at my work

    IMG_1743

    flinging me backwards into crux of my estrangement with my mother.

    I still wonder what she forgives me for.

    I wonder if she knows what she is asking me to forgive her for – it is so generic.

    And I love you always forever.  She too believes in finite.

    I wonder if love itself is ambiguous?

    Can there be a forever type of love?

    Or, an always?

    Do we as humans feel better in the finite and certain linear ideals?

    What does it mean when her love for me never changes?  

    Was that the same kind of love she had for my father?

    I wonder what I love without ambiguity?

    Perhaps the truth or reality.

    What I love most about this post is that I am no longer feeling like "it shouldn't be happening" or that I must make them do this or that.  

    I was only violated by my belief that estrangement would not be ambiguous.

    My experience of estrangement is that it is totally full of ambiguity.

    The Universe choreographed the perfect weeks for me to see and understand the tone of estrangement and to set them all free to contact me or not.

    Estrangement was never mine to control in the first place.

    All I have ever done is follow where my truth led.

    And they all make moves based on where they are and what they need and what image they need to hold.

    They are and have always been free to move on their own free will.

    It is mine to respond or allow it to be.

    I don't have the power to wipe away my mother's faults.

    I am not withholding.

    Her faults are hers to deal with.

    All I can manage and course correct, are my own.

    Rob Bell talked about forgiveness too.

    And, from his example, I believe that I have forgiven my mother.

    I do not hold anger for her.

    What I know and see and have experienced, is that her faith speaks to me before a mother.  Do you hear that?

    In the post card, her Faith is speaking to me first…and it is much more important than our relationship of mother/daughter.  

    Who I would be dialoguing with is her Faith – not my mother.

    My mother is hiding far behind the Faith Wall.

    I can forgive my mother for she is blinded with faith, like I used to be.

    And, I refuse to reconnect with a Faith.

    Especially that Faith.

    And, I am eternally grateful that my faith wall fell to the ground. And, that I stood naked and in shock that there was actually a Being there.

    A Me, who I had never met.

    How can I begin to begin to explain this to her as she(her faith) ask me to forgive.

    The woman I cannot reach is behind the wall.

    Another ambiguity.

    There but not there.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Way Out

    In listening to the book, "Ghost Boy" by Martin Pistorius, I had so many moments of incredulousness. 

    First, after not being able to communicate, when he finally did, he didn't know that others could choose not to listen.  

    He had thought, IF I could only speak, others would hear.

    Words spoken have nothing to do with the listening ear.

    The listening person has a set perspective they may not be able to change.

    While I have a voice, and a body that moves, my words often useless.

    Like gibberish flowing forth.

    What I also envisioned were so many whose lives looked like Martin's body.

    Stuck; unmoving. 

    Even perhaps how they would like to move and change, but remain frozen in their life station.

    Whether it be stuck in a strict religion or in a life where they feel unable to do as they wish.

    How many of us are really free – body, mind and soul?

    How many of us authentically live and speak?

    While he had physical limitations and for many years unable to communicate, we are in essence free; but just as stuck as he was.

    While he was thought to be a vegetable, others did horrible things to him, in front of him and at him.  He was aware; but unmovable.

    He couldn't get himself out of harms way.

    And, yet we have words and mobility and often remain locked in a wall-less prison.

    It is incredible what the mind can do and what fear or affects of abuse is capable of rendering useless in our worlds.

    The fear and sorrow I see when others are unable to be truthfully free…leaves me breathless.

    How it appears to be easier to remain stuck, than it is to walk through the fear in the mind…to a life of free choice.

    While he literally was frozen in body and NOT mind.  I know that the world is made up of people who are the exact opposite. Their minds will not allow their  bodies to move in new circles. 

    Even with voices, they are not able to voice new choices.

    To say "No" to someone or to say "Yes" to something new.

    In reading this book, I can see how many take for granted the ability of free will, free speech and freedom to move.  To express, to feel and engage in life with the unique signature of your very own soul.

    IMG_1622

    I love this sign.  "Do Not Anchor".

    Many of us never leave the harbor of our childhood – its religion and circle of family.  Our soul is captured at birth and never released.

    Being free of mind, body and soul is our birthright.

    It is our journey to set our self free.

    I see my first 46 years of being trapped alive in denial

    yet, unaware that I was.

    Now that I know, I can't ever go back to allowing others to be the leader or director in my life.  Or to have fear stand in the way.

    Breaking the frozen paralyzing immobility isn't easy.

    You will be stiff and uncomfortable and rusty.

    It will be hard to pull back your life from others.

    However, when you can dance freely in words and actions; there is nothing to compare it to. To pull up anchor and sail away…

    It is like breathing or not breathing.

    IMG_1550

    We are the ones who move our shadows.

    Do not allow them to be locked in the prison of our fears!

    Dare to speak, even when your legs shake or your voice is weak with fear.

    It is the way out!

  • Without Permission.

    It wasn't until the end of the last blog, that I realized the significance of me returning to the little church on Pine Street.  To walk into a place that altered how I viewed myself and the world around me.

    Like the stained glass windows, its preachings colored the way I believed, thought, acted and lived.

    The little child who entered that space didn't have a chance against its teachings.

    I can look back at the young child me, and see how she blindly trusted the things she was told.  It was where she was taught to love and fear God.  Where she discovered she had a sinful body.  Where she lost her sense of self.  

    Imagine, a church that steals innocence!

    She walked in through those doors with nothing to compare their words to. She had no experience, nor the freedom to doubt. For, to doubt their words and preachings, was a sin….too.

    It is no wonder, I was brainwashed, I was too little and had no choice but to follow along.  

    The significance of shutting out TV and the "world" and its contrasting words, was the only way to keep us in the dark.  I also heard today, of how fear is a way to control people.  

    I see my young self too afraid not to follow along.

    Fear of dying in sin and going to hell.

    Fear replaced my sense of curiosity and open-mindedness.

    My world shrank to fit in that narrow minded religion.

    And, I didn't venture out until my world fell apart.

    It is hard to comprehend the magnitude of these strict religions.

    And, not so hard to see, how unmoving they all now are when anything speaks outside of that religion. Words, actions and deeds are not recognized unless they are sanctioned by the church.

    They literally will not move unless told to do so.

    OR, until they too suffer a mind-altering event, where truth shatters this mind controlling religion.  When truth shines so brightly, even the mind can't help but see beyond programmed words.

    I didn't set out to un-program my mind.

    But once I saw the colored glass of its deception, I no longer could pretend to pretend to believe.

    I am not sure I ended up with an open mind, but one that has now experienced being programmed and told what to think and how to act and who to be.

    Given that experience, I am now able to choose to be free.

    Whereas, prior to knowing I was programmed, I was too programmed to know I was programmed. If that makes sense?

    A person unaware doesn't have awareness to see themselves unaware.

    What I felt going back to the little church on Pine Street was MY BRIGHT AWARENESS.  So bright and free and open that there isn't anyone in that little church who could take it away.

    How delightful would it be if churches held each child's innocence and open mind as a thing to protect at all costs, instead of stealing both.

    I can't even be sure most churches are aware of the costs of their religions…

    What made me even more sad today, was that my little girl had nowhere to go that held her innocence as priceless.  In fact, that religion that was preached in that little church on Pine Street, equaled the actions of a dysfunctional home.

    It is no wonder to me, that they match OR that so many homes whose beginnings are formed in this church are steeped in abuse.

    Abuse is what is normal.

    No self.

    No innocence.

    No curiosity and open-mindedness.

    The feelings we were given within that little church of being sinful, unworthy and with a body full of sin, is the same way we are treated as victim of abuse.

    It is our fault.

    We somehow carry forward the shame and guilt.

    Just as the church had us feeling guilt and shame for being sinful.

    I saw that little church and how it worked hand and hand with my incest to keep me miles from myself and seeing my inherent worth.

    Both, to me, hold equal parts of my demise.

    Which is how they fell down almost simultaneously.

    It is my belief, that if you are standing tall with your natural born innocence and intrinsic value you will be repelled from religion.

     

    The circle moment, was for me to enter back into that church under my full power. Nothing could be added to make me more of who I am.  I am complete.

    It was to be complete…to go into 40 years of darkness and to find my way back to the Light.  

    As I stand outside of this cult-like religion – it is I, who is the devil's own, not the church.

    Just as I stand outside of my dysfunctional family as the evil one.

    And, I am a threat to both.

    Free spirit, love of self, sense of worth, open-mindedness, awareness, voice, choice are all threats to keeping their members in the dark and in fear and under control.

    In order for both to work and be seen as value and moral, I must be wrong.

    My experiences of my Self-Worth in both is the true witness.

    Here is my old Art which shows My Lady in her early stages…

    IMG_4981

    I loved both of these pieces, and thought how free and flowing they were…

    IMG_4915

    And, now my latest work in progress…

    IMG_1271

    This says it all.  

     

     

  • I walked into my old church yesterday.  The little one on Pine Street in Hancock.  It felt surreal walking in the small lobby and entering into the little sanctuary.  Seeing the door on the right side of the pulpit where we used to have Sunday School class.  

    All had changed; but remained the same.

    It seemed so very very small.  Just as I was, when I was brought to church.

    My mind was open and aware this time and, without fear.

    I wasn't there to go to church; but to talk.

    With a few ladies.

    A polite conversation about abuse and church people.

    I entered without the bible.

    No phrases or words or sentences did I lean upon.

    Nor, was I a spokesperson for a certain religion and its policies.

    I was just me…without a religious filter ahead of me.

    An old member of this church…and a victim of its teachings and sexual abuse.

    This innocent building with pretty windows and polished floors.

    It was the people who use to own this church who had filled my head.

    My young mind.

    Believing.

    In fear.

    A faith about forgiveness of sins and the fire of Hell if I didn't.  The lies of unworthiness and sin filled body…unsaved sinner.

    Now other people own this church and are teaching others words and sentences.

     I find it peculiar that within confined walls we teach.

    Not out in the wide world of life.

    But words, thoughts and beliefs, papers and books, and authors of eons ago.

    Parts of the conversation was limiting when the bible was expected to fit in.

    Like an exclamation point after a non-religious exclamation point.

    It almost felt like reality wasn't complete with out the good book.

    Old old words to add meaning to today's reality.

    Words from long ago before we were even born or today's troubles even known.

    A voice from legends long ago trying to be "in the know" now.

    A very very long distance generation gap. One that my mind couldn't wrap itself around.

    When you have to use the big book as your reference point can you truly be present?

    I could see a woman who stood behind the bible…faithfully and respectfully…secondary.

    Each time the biblical words tried to make sense of the nowadays, it just seemed out of place to me. 

    The flow of conversation would seem to have bible hiccups…and then we would go on.

    They didn't happen often. 

    I am not sure what I contributed in this church environment, for my experiences were void of biblical content.

    I didn't hand over my sins to Jesus, nor do I feel unworthy and in need of saving.  

    I was complete as I entered and at peace.

    No more God's Peace could be added.

    I wasn't seeking.

    There is a committee and a few of its members are traveling to different church locations, speaking of abuse.  Recognizing that abuse does happen within religions, their parishioners and even within churches…to teach them the signs, and offer solutions.

    They are doing their best to raise awareness and break the silence.

    It is a start.  

    I can't know the way to enter into churches and speak. Nor can I know what the people in the pews need, expect or want when the topic of abuse comes up.

    This isn't an easy when you have to dance around the formalities of their religion.

    What you say and offer, has to fit within the guidelines of church.

    And, I am not sure this will dovetail successfully.

    As a person sitting listening, I was confused.

    There seemed to be a message of the church and then the experiences of the women.

    Not always did they match or even enlighten each other.

    I am just not certain you can religiously heal abuse.

    Or religiously speak of it.

    There almost seems to be an abused person and a religious person wrapped into one.

    And, each of their needs don't meld.

    In fact, I think they are in direct opposition.

    Which makes their job impossible.

    Now that I see this.  I can also see where there were two distinct voices speaking.

    Who do you talk to and how do you silence one while speaking to the other when both occupy one body?

    An incredible feat to be sure.

    My mind is a whirlwind trying to sort this all out.

    It is like there is a religious voice, an abused voice, and an innocent voice all wanting to be seen, heard and acknowledged. Which one is the one who is the one to lead them out?

    Perhaps the little girl who first walked in.

    I know, that at one time, I entered this church completely whole and innocent.  

    And was taught differently…in that little room on the left of the pulpit.

    Just as abused changed me at home. Religion changed me at church.

    It was a full circle moment to go back with my awareness and strong sense of self. My little girl fully grown and whole.

    IMG_1375

     

  • Be Heard.

    "Silent Witnesses".  What a powerful statement.  We are witnesses of many things and often don't see the correlation between the action and the witnessing of it.

    I have been asked to have a conversation with a few people who are working with victims of abuse underneath the umbrella of a very strict religion.  

    What can we possibly say or advise to?

    These victims are very complex and multi-layered in their thought patterns and level of self-awareness as well, as even being open to sounds outside of their said religion.

    Can we really wiggle into their programmed minds in a way that can unhinge years of fear based teaching and give them hope to hang onto?

    Over the past decade, I have seen the affects of not only religious abuse upon them; but the added slap of sexual and physical abuse on individuals and its horrific cost.

    Adult children who are too afraid to live differently than they were raised. Who can't even imagine the freedom of a body let alone their minds.  

    Where do you begin to begin to unravel whole lives lived in such tiny quarters; where they have been unable to make even simple choices that are outside of their church's approval?

    I try and think back to the old me…or even the newly awoken me and wonder what I would have needed.

    What words of wisdom would have helped me back then?

    What would their biggest pain be?

    What is causing them the most suffering…and what was mine?

    Mostly, I recall the fear of the unknown and letting go of all that I had ever known, even about me.

    The fear of the devil and hell, for walking away.  

    And even, the fear of not liking or being okay with the new me and way of life.

    More still, the knowing you can't go back and unknow what you now know.

    Fear of retribution and hostile words for speaking out and standing up.

    Fear of being alone.

    Lots of fears.

    Yet, I was greatly comforted by what I did know and the freedom I was giving myself and the empowering ways I was growing.  For all that I lost, I was always gaining.

    Most of my grief was of what I would no longer be part of with my family.

    My life with them was over.

    But, I was re-birthing Me.

    Undoing and unwinding all the programs I had been taught and much that were woven with the affects of abuse.  My binds were breaking.

    I was different.

    I would be different.

    Or, I would be the silent witness so many were bound on being.

    To be with family. To spare their "Faith".

    The content of a silent witness when abuse is present is to be silent and knowing, to preserve the status quo.

    Again, so what do victims of abuse need?

    A silent witness or one who has stood up and broke the silence

    one who has lost it all to gain herself back.

    To me, life appears to have two paths.  

    One where you are supporting the 'peace' of society…. to go along to get along.

    And the second path is one of self empowering.

    If you look broadly at these two paths only one will be for the happiness and peace of the individual.  The other will be for group mentality.

    Each choice I made reflected what would be good for me OR what would look better for the group at large?

    As I sat with the new found freedom to decide between what I wanted and say what the church wanted, I was amazed how much of myself I had given up to be its member.

    Same goes for family.

    When I was newly set free, it was extremely scary and wildly exhilarating.

    Not knowing who you are or who you will become or even if you can literally survive the unprogramming of the mind and its costs to all your relationships.  I lost more than I would ever imagine and gained equally.

    All I can offer them is my experience of going from total programmed mind and obedient daughter to a free agent.

    One is to be chained and the other unshackled.

    Can you understand freedom IF you never had it?

    Will it not be far more fearful than never knowing freedom?

    You can't miss or pine for what you never tasted.

    I am looking forward to the dialogue and hoping I can shed some light upon this brave adventure to literally talk about abuse within religion.  

    May our conversations be heard!

    IMG_1253

     

     

  • Reality Arose

    More wonderful insights from "Trust" by Iyanla Vanzant"

     

    "When you are taught to think that you are inherently wrong, that something is wrong with you, and/or that you are guilty, you see others in the same light. These thought forms and the energy they carry not only make you suspicious, they become the filter through which you see everyone and everything. When these thought forms and thought filters of wrongness and guilt are then shaded with a belief system grounded in inferiority and superiority based on race, your instincts, reflexes, and reactions become knee-jerk rather than reality based."

    "When you think that someone else thinks you are wrong or guilty because of the color of your skin, your responses to them are not grounded in reality. They are the result of programming and conditioning."

    "By the same token, when people think that who you are is wrong, or that you are guilty of something simply by virtue of your race or skin color, their responses to and interactions with you will be knee-jerk and preprogrammed rather than genuinely appropriate to any specific situation. Unfortunately, whether you are reacting to your own internal programming or you are being reacted upon because of someone else's programming, in many, many cases, the reaction is unconscious and, therefore, difficult to acknowledge or correct.  As a human being, you fight for what you believe, whether you know you believe it or not. When what you believe is unconscious, you may not be able to control or monitor the ways you fight to prove it is true."  Iyanla

     

    These unconscious beliefs of wrongness; whether it be you or others who are wrong, or right, truly does create a shield over reality.  We unconsciously block reality and then believe we are right about what is 'wrong'…or wrong about what is right.

    Never truly seeing anything but our beliefs.

    What I have come to learn is that I wasn't seeing 'wrong' folks, I was literally looking wrongly at life.

    This is a huge difference; and leaves everyone as they are.

    When the programmed beliefs of mine dropped, it was to see how wrong I was taught…NOT how wrong others were.  

    What we call "judgement" literally is what we believe to be true.

    It doesn't make it true – just what we were taught was true.

    This may confuse many and your own beliefs may argue as you read this.

    There is an odd comfort in believing you are right and a discomfort in knowing you may be wrong.

    Even today, my old beliefs wiggle and squirm when an old right is made wrong.

    I am not sure there is a bigger culprit of creating judgement than churches.

    Each presents their beliefs to be right and in doing so colors everyone else wrong.

    The very organizations that proclaim love and peace really teach the opposite.

    Allowing and accepting everyone as equals would render churches mute.

    They would just be a structure with pretty windows.

    Funny, in a peculiar way, how they have colored glasses.

    Perhaps an unconscious sign they don't see clearly.

    In my heart of hearts, I know that I have judged and rejected many with my beliefs. And, what it cost me not to see clearly.  My programming inside of my head was completely screwed up. 

    Many worry about the badness of others or their lifestyle or political views….and their religious upbringing.  Few ponder what program lives within them.

    How do you see other humans in this world, their color, country or lifestyle?

    Who is correct and who makes it so?

    Or maybe it is easier to look deeply into what you feel is wrong and why.

    The right world is most likely the one you were taught to live in.  

    How wide of a circle is this one right world and who does it include and who more importantly does it exclude.

    What a right religion excludes, shows the size of their inclusiveness.

    The smaller the circle the more cult-like and extreme its beliefs.

    Many feel that the world would come apart at the seams if it weren't for churches. I believe it would fall free in love, peace and joy.

    Imagine a world where there were was no judgment?

    Where humanity had a zillion expressions of right being.

    I am so very grateful each time an old belief is proved wrong by a wonderful loving being; showing me it is so.

    It is so much easier living outside the 'sins' and wrongs of the church.

    When my church lay in tattered ruins…a brilliant reality arose.

    IMG_0319