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The estrangement between a parent and child goes against the gravitational pull of nature.  In fact, anytime there is a breech in the contract of family, our systems will feel the pull and push with our emotions.  

I wish there was a simple and general response to estrangement, or what to do when a person feels that they are safer away from family than with it, but it is at the very least, complicated.

Estrangement isn't an easy thing to accomplish.

Nor, do I believe is it something that is taken lightly or made in moments of whim.

It is the last ditch effort to save yourself, a final realization that if you don't separate, your mental well-being will be gravely affected.  Your sanity, harmony, peace, love and joys – need separation in order to survive.

The ones we estrange ourselves from may or may not realize the contents of their toxicity, the levels of their dysfunction, or the cost and toll of being in their lives has on others.

How can you calculate what it feels like for others to be in your world?

And, each of us has a tolerance level.

Perhaps it is a drama or trauma tolerance.

Some of us can withstand leagues of pain and suffering and be okay with turmoil and angst.  Others of us just reached the bottom of the barrel of our tolerance. We have nothing more to give.

Meaning, we no longer have the band width to be in your presence.  Your life infringes upon our sanity in ways that makes us crazy.

 

Truly.

 

The set and tone of our worlds are disrupted too much by your life's choices or the lack thereof.  We simply cannot float hope out that things will be different "next time".

 

It is like the curtain has dropped on reality.  We know who you are as a person, is not who we can be in a relationship with.  As children we don't pick who are parents are.  But, as an adult, we can choose who we want in our lives.

 

This healthy boundary making is very hard.

 

It is these same boundaries, we so wish our parent practiced.

Our healthy choices are seen often as punishment towards a parent, or that we are non-forgiving, unloving etc.  Rarely can an estranged parent see the child being responsible and self-loving.  They instead see the estrangement through their eyes only.

Somehow, the parent believes the child can't see them.  Doesn't understand their pain etc. When in fact, the child has lived with the effects of the parent's choices more than any other.

We have lived with the consequences of their 'poor' choices.

Often for years and years prior to leaving.

It may seem like it was one event, one moment in time; but it is actually the accumulation of years and years of hoping and wanting things different.  Of forgiving and forgetting, and moving on, in hope.

Until hope runs out.

The bottom is reached, and there can be no more.

There is no energy left to fly the flag one more time.

We simply are done and done.

 

I often wonder if my mother has taken inventory of her life's choices and how they impacted her children?  If she really counts the moments of time, SHE and her life choices have gravely impacted the relationships. The chips and cracks she has inflicted upon the parent and child relationship. There is a price tag for each choice, and sometimes the price is estrangement.  You will lose the privilege of being in their lives.

Children grow up.

And, have children of their own.

It is now my choices that will affect my own children.

 

As a mother, what is the cost of my own choices upon my children?

What I do and how I live reaches into my children's lives.

I either impact them with love or pain. 

At the very least, it is my hope that my life doesn't cause or bring stressful energy.

And, that I am responsible for my own boundaries, my own mental well being, that I am dependent and not needing them to adjust their lives for me.

 

Love is freedom.

Love is overflowing good energy onto those we love.

Love has boundaries.

Love estranges itself from others to maintain peace, and joy.

 

I personally question those who don't have boundaries, who claim family is family no matter what.  I believe, that without boundaries, you will settle for anything and anyone. Being able to close down relationships within family, in order to preserve a tranquil and loving environment, creates a safe place for your children to thrive.

 

Sadly, those of us who have had to estrange ourselves, come from families where we were unsafe.  And, in order to feel safe and honor our feelings, leaving was the only answer. The family and its environment wasn't going to change, so we had to.  We had to change who we allowed into our lives.

 

When a child feels unsafe in your presence, it is perfect that they become estranged.

Unsafe doesn't mean just physical, but our mental and emotional well being matters too.

A strong healthy person can walk away.  Even on shaky legs and an uncertain future away from family.

Putting up boundaries in an environment where none have been, isn't easy.  And, it will be seen as rebellion and dislike or hate.  When in fact, it is the most loving thing to do.

Loving yourself enough to go.

 

On this Father's Day, there are children who have left who won't feel like celebrating today.

Celebrate your strength.

Celebrate knowing what real love is.

Perhaps by knowing what love is not.

 

 

There is much going on in our world today, it overwhelms the mind, saddens the heart and hurts my soul.  It is hard to find a thread to untangle my thoughts.  Yet, it feels familiar in its circular unending beat.

 

"Good People" doing evil deeds.

And, the victims are being unseen, unheard and unacknowledged by the lack of change.

 

The lack of change sets us up for a repeat performance.  

And, this is what beats us into depression, anger, rage and protests.  

There is no end in sight, NOTHING of great significance changes.

 

When the root cause isn't dealt with, actions will be repeated, it is just a matter of time.

The systems in place work for the outcome they want/need or were created for.  Until you change what the system works for OR whom, it will not change.

 

When I was learning about my sexual abuse, I expected it to be a shock to others as it was to me. I expected the systems in place to be built in a way that would not allow this.  However, after a few weeks, I quickly learned, that I was in a system that was created and geared toward protecting the perpetrator.

 

This can sound so surreal to some, but the bottom line is that our society was created for white male dominance.

 

It isn't until you actually need the system to see you and protect you, do you find this out.

 

My small interaction with church and state left me feeling unseen and unheard. I was a white girl in a strict religion who was abused. It didn't matter to the systems that be. I wasn't unique and special. I was just another one.  Another one to pretty much ignore. Life goes on.  Unchanged.  I had to find a way to live in that space.

 

I did. I changed.

And, I lost the innocence of believing in the society's systems doing what is right.

 

However, I was a product of this same system. Where I was taught to believe I was superior due to the color of my skin, and the church I was raised in believed we were the only ones going to heaven.  The chosen few.  

 

These beliefs messed with my eyes and brain and the way I saw the world.

 

Perhaps when the system I was part of didn't protect me, I saw the system with new eyes and those eyes then seen the world in a new way. 

 

I don't have answers for this horrible time we are in, but maybe we can all unlearn what we have been taught. And, we can change the system by our lack of belief in it.

 

Also, when no one saw me as valuable, I was able to find my own value. 

I know it is unfair to ask the victims to change the world, but I am pretty sure the ones who are benefiting from the system will not be changing it.  

I was born privileged in white skin.

I was taught of this privilege by how to see OTHERS.

 

When I think of the systems I was raised in, I was raised to see the white male as dominant and powerful.  

I was taught to fear black or skins of other colors.  Or at the very least see them as less.

I was taught to value me less.  

I believed that a woman didn't own her body. 

I believed that a good girl was nice and didn't live her truth.

I believed in a god who looked and acted like the white males in charge.

 

When I look at what is happening today, in who is supporting our president, I am appalled and affirmed.

 

Strict religious families are supporting a white male who they will not look at.

Not at his many faults.

For this is how they have been taught.

Those faults can and will be washed away with the forgiveness of sins.

 

I am just seeing today on a real broad scale what I experienced.

The faultless white male who is dancing with evil in a system that protects him – always.

And, the system in place is the blind followers – who have been taught since childhood to see the world through eyes of the system.

 

I am rambling and sounding like a crazy woman, but what I know to be true, is that the system in place is being seen finally for the insanity that it is.

When a white man can kill a black man in public and no one can stop him the system was on full in real life display!  IF you can't see it as being wrong, YOU are part of the problem.

You are in the system and it is working for you.

 

I only know, that if and when I have the opportunity to stand  between a person of color and the police I hope I can.  

I understand their frustrations, rage and anger. I get it.  What they want most is for the rest of us to see what they are experiencing. SEE IT and work to change the systems.

 

As Trevor Noah said, we all signed a contract as americans.  We signed a contract as humanity, and when one part isn't holding up the contract, we need to be outraged.  We are only as strong as the weakest link.

The cop who murder a black man in broad daylight as others watched unable to stop him, IS the system we all created.  

Until the world stops and a new system is put into place, this will continue to happen.

We each need to look around the systems we believe in.

Who do they support and why?

What equanimity do they give to all members?

Who is more valuable and how do you know?

Who has freedoms and who does not?

There are more questions than answers.

We each have to question our own systems in order to see where we are part of the problem or where we are wrestling to change old systems.

 

In our circle of influence, let us be the change we want to see in the world.

We each have a role to end this violence, most often it is just a belief we hold, that we never questioned.

 

All it takes is one lady biking, and a woman with balloons joins in to make a parade.  Add a bird on the back, and it takes on a new tone.

Sylvi said, "I think the bird needs to be playing a flute."

 

Today, I came back to the parade and added a few more things.

When the clown joined, it started to feel more like a real parade. I love creating her.  I have to do more silly ladies!

With all the small loose pieces, I feel anxious until it is all sewn in place.

After showing this to a friend  - She said looks like the clown wants to be holding something  - maybe a flag???  Like an Earth Day flag?  

And, so here is what I finished up with.

It's a busy quilt in these quiet times. I am not sure if this represents what my mind is doing    - a parade of emotions, ideas, thoughts and feelings.

Tomorrow I will add the binding.  Maybe something to calm it all down. 

Doing art is a neat process and sharing with friends and adding pieces to help move the story forward, or to balance things out.

There is lots going on for this one small piece, but there is lots going on for each of us.

Let's give ourselves credit for doing the best we can as we traverse through these new times.

One day the parades again will happen.

We will gather and be close.

And, we can be a crazy bunch enjoying life.

I love this parade!

 

 

What I learned from the Hit and Run encounter, is that we bump into people all day long. We are exchanging experiences, energy and who we are, with everyone we come in contact with.  And, we are left better, or worse off, by each brush along the way. We leave traces of ourselves on each other.

 

Some encounters have a ripple effect, and the consequences line up to be dealt with.

Perhaps all encounters ripple outward, and their energies stay with us, like an imprint.

We carry with us the energy that we hit up against.

 

The energy of the hit and run feels toxic and abrasive.

 

The lack of control within his own life, left me worse off for your encounter.

Gratefully it was only my jeep.  He had spun me towards the parking lot of the feed mill. Thankfully no one was outside and that I didn't hit someone or a car – or that a vehicle was in the lane I crossed over.

His neglect in his world affects others he is in contact with, even if for a brief moment of time.

I will need to figure out a way to deliver the mail, while my jeep is in the shop for a week. It's an inconvenience that is all. 

 

What it showed me is that we are affected by others.  And some encounters can create added stress and bring in complications.  They messy up your life.

 

The regularity and stresslessness of my life shows how little contact I have with folks who are out of control in their worlds.  I am deeply grateful for my peaceful life.

 

Later on on my route that day, these two stood in the road, playing chicken with me.

Life is series of encounters.  We can chose how we deal with each of them.  I am very lucky that most things that I encounter on the route are beautiful and leave me feeling better.

I am happy I was the one who was hit, and not the hitter. He is facing much worse consequences from our encounter. Perhaps it will be his wake up call.  That what we do, does impact others around us. Even those who we have brief encounters with.  I hope he gets the help he needs. I can't imagine living a life out of control.

 

 

Most women or humans in general, can tell you in a second, what they don't like about themselves.  It is right there at the tip of their tongue; but can they tell you what parts they love?

We have so many moving parts to our lives, from our body, mind, soul, self, relationships and roles we live. Yet, we can get stuck on something we haven't fully accepted.

We may want something that is impossible to change, to change.  Our minds chew on this on repeat.

What parts of your world do you love?

What things in your life feel brighter and lighter?

And, what brings you energy?

 

After hearing that we don't focus on what we love; but will repeat over and over what we hate, it was suggested to start talking to the things you love.

 

The biggest part of myself that I LOVE is my awareness. My ability to be right here right now. Even if, there are times I slip and wish this moment was different, or wish someone was there that isn't etc.  For the most part I love that I can be with reality, even when it is soul crushing; or perhaps when life is at its worse I can sit right there.  

This year I am looking to improve my being here, by not wishing to add someone or something to this moment in time. To let it be as it is. To allow others their freedom of choice, and be so okay with it.

I love my ability to be in the present. I can become so fully present that the rest of my life slips away.  This happens doing so much that I love to do; it brings my mind back to my body, to be where my feet are.

I love my ability to have hard conversations; to be vulnerable and open.

I love being active, and allowing myself to be where I am.  I admit, I would love love love to be badass; but mostly I am slow active.  I am so grateful for all I can do, and all the places movement has brought me. And, the new friends I have met along the way.

I totally love being a grandma.  I love watching the new little ones grow into their worlds. I love how they are showing us who they are. I love that I just get to be with them; and they are not my responsibility.  My role is simply to enjoy their presence. And, I get to do this also with my children; now that they are grown.  With less responsibility, my world is growing lighter.

I love feeling like an artist, and can blame my crazy, eccentricities and weirdness on the art that flows in me.  I often feel like a living piece of art.  And, I like uniqueness – imperfect mismatch things, which all looks like my life.

 

There is so much more to love about me and my life; than there is to hate.

The hate things, are no longer hated.

 

When I loved, what some would say is hard to love, my abuse, it allowed me to love the less ugly parts too.

In fact, they say in order to love yourself, you have to first love the very parts you hate.

And not to positive think over the top of them. But truly be understanding with those parts.

 

I love this body.  And the million things it does for me. I even love my poor hips and how they try their best to accommodate my slow active fun.  My extra pounds come along for the ride.  My unwillingness to focus on weight loss – to enjoy the sweets of life. 

I heard on a podcast, that after a difficult childhood; adulthood felt like a second chance at being a child. I often feel this too.

That after so many years living in the dark – denial, cult religion, survival mode etc – that I feel so much freedom to just be and do – a child like mode of living.

The rules are now gone and the weight of sexual abuse's secrets lifted.  I am a free spirit.

I love where breaking the silence eventually brings you.

 

Perhaps loving the things you have been taught to hate about you and your life – will allow you to love all of you.  The imperfections are perfect; coming from whence you came.

 

Imagine loving the imperfections.  

Because, are they really imperfect?

Or more, what is perfect?

 

Imagine a world of people, loving who they are.

The energy of that would be quite remarkable.

And, they really don't have a choice, everyone else is taken.

You Be You, lovingly.

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

Life is lived by minutes.

Not even days.

Or, hours.

 

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

 

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

 

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

Imagine your day,

and, your year.

 

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

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

I even did a few things for the first time.

 

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

 

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

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

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

I have a good life.

 

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

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

 

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

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

Engaging with life as I am and where I am.

Being present with what is.

 

Living this way time passes, almost unseen.  

 

And, perhaps it matters less.

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

Happy New Minute!

 

 

"she was tired.

it was one mess after another.

every time she turned around

but when she looked at the spaces

in between the messes - 

or the rings around those very spots –

she saw beauty.

here.

and there.

and over here. 

mess surrounded by beauty.

beauty surrounded by mess.

she leaned her head back and smiled.

and stood up once again." 

                                      Terri St. Cloud

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I created Mugs with the images from the quilts I made of ladies in the nude. My intentions were to inspire women to love and accept the body they are living in.

To be content with the wonder it is.

There truly isn't a perfect body.

That is a myth.

In fact the word perfect should be a swear or banned from our language.

 

Embracing and loving what we have defined as imperfection, IS where we will drop the need for wanting a body that looks different from the one we have.

 

I want the message of the mugs to inspire embracing your imperfections.

On this blog, my tag line is "I M Perfect and It is impossible not to be."

I know that the moment my imperfections flooded my life, it made them become lovable.

This may seem counter intuitive but, when you are left with bold imperfections, ones that you can't discard or positive think over, you have to embrace them.

Accepting that my past can't be any different, allowed me to accept me.

The abused me.

The me that wasn't worthy of all that comes with abuse.

I had to not just let her ride along in the backseat.

I had to become bold and courageous with my wounds showing.

To walk naked among the many who strive for perfection.

Perhaps these nude ladies are bringing me full circle to the moment I discovered that I was without any of the usual pillars we hide behind.

The family, religion and even who I was, were all down.

I was naked as a new born, in a grown woman's body, who in itself was perfect in its imperfections.

So, I will look at finding words to go with my naked ladies.

Ladies who are bold and courageous living and loving their imperfections.

Knowing that perfect is a false planet, no one inhabits.

While the land of imperfect is filled with wild, wonderful, adventurous, daring women, who refuse to seek perfection in anything.

We rock imperfection in a way that makes life full of loving.

We love ourselves just as we are.

Naked rolls of imperfections!

We know that our body is the vehicle for joy and is strong enough to handle all of life's sorrows. It is an incredible unique work of art, and we don't match anyone else!

We were born to be perfectly perfect, just the way we are!

 

I feel for those whose hearts feel the added sadness of the holidays.  As most are eagerly looking forward, there are many who see the emptiness, instead of the full spectrum of joy.

For me it usually feels half hearted.  

Where a part of my heart will never be fully open to all the sentiments the holidays bring.

My innocence of family has been marred.

The wounds seem to leak and bleed on holiday trimmings.

 

Whereas before, I innocently believed I had the power to make a holiday into something special, by all my attention to the details.

Details which now seem shallow and almost valueless.

I don't need a certain tree, a favorite dessert, the perfect home etc.  None of that can fill the hole left by my estrangement.

I can go along, and not quite pretend, but the loss of innocent enthusiasm doesn't arise.

The value I believe I used to place on holidays has fled.

It simply is just another day.

I know, it may seem tragic, but it has also given me value of all the other days.

 

I know it isn't the day, the right gift and a perfect table that creates a family of love.

Love happens on ordinary days.

 

I also know, the value of love, having lost so much.

I know, the value of me, by what I wasn't willing to settle with.

It is funny, the holidays lost their value, when family mattered more.

 

The accent prior was on the holiday and the trimmings IT needed.  I wasn't focused on the individuals who gathered.

I didn't see myself, so how could I have seen them.

 

I remember how much the holidays mattered, for I truly believed a perfect holiday, could and would, create a perfect family.

How backwards that all is.

 

Now, my heart isn't fully into these glitzy days.

The details have lost their gleam.

 

It is weird that while my heart has a huge hole in it, it also feels bigger and able to feel more.  That all the brokenness has allowed me to feel more with less.

And the feelings swings back and forth.

From the past to the present. To what I have and what I lost.

Holidays and full families or perhaps intact families can be irritating.

Their completeness and fullness scream out my incompleteness.

 

And, yet my present family is in good shape.

Perhaps, besides me.

 

I have so much more, than what I lost.

For others, what they lost feels unsurmountable.

Broken hearts and holidays just simply don't mix.

 

So, for those who can't muster up the usual enthusiasm for family gatherings, when there are big holes where a loved one used to be, or many.  I understand.

I truly, would be happy with a soft tree of lights and fire and maybe tea.

It could go by me, quietly.

 

I may not be able to give a 100% enthusiasm to the party prep and meal planning etc – but I can be fully present with family.

I now see people, where decorations used to be.

 

Cheers to us, the half-hearted people!

May each of us be able to focus on what we need to, in order to get our hearts through this holiday season.

Find a place where you can be at peace inside.

It doesn't have to be traditional, or follow any pattern.

Add or take away the parts, weaving together a new normal.

 

I have become one of the elders at our gatherings.  Now it is up to the next generation to set the tone.  I feel less stressed about this.  For, it was hard to create excitement when my heart wasn't truly in it.

Now, I can be the grandparent and watch the excitement and innocence of the families beneath me.

I made the choices I made, in hopes that my children will at least be spared estrangement's broken heart.

 

None of us will be spared a broken heart if we love.

There will be holidays, where absence is so painful.

Where there is the natural separation of love.

It seems to me, there has to be a different modes of brokenness.

Where one has loving memories…

and, then those filled with pain and sorrow.

I guess, the tragedy of estrangement is that the memories of past are tinged with sadness. Happy seems to be false and hard to find. I can't know what was a real connection.  

 

For those who have happy memories hug them near.

 

All this to say, I face these holidays, with the complications that estrangement brings.

Beauty and sorrow mixed to make a complicated tapestry.

 

 

 

I wonder what the difference is between reality and mental well being? Is there a direct correlation between being allowed to live in reality or being forced to ignore what is. 

Doesn't it seem impossible to not to be able to be in reality.

 

However, we little by little slip away each time we pretend to pretend, that someone is different than they acted.

 

Reality living can seem harsh after being forced to not be there.

We, more often than not, force the pretend world.

For it requires nothing of us.

 

It is a lazy way to live and one that messes with your head.

My mind is most at peace when it aligns with what is.

 

And, my soul loves the authenticity we live with.

 

The harmony doesn't allow for much pretending.

 

"Loving What Is" by Byron Katie helped me so much as I learned to be accepting to what is.  To live with the consequences of what is, and to not ignore life's signs along the way.

 

Loving what is, doesn't require you to like it or approve of it, it just matters that you accept it. 

 

Often, my struggle is with accepting and wanting it to be different.

Wanting something different is Hell.

It is impossible, and yet the mind can go on for hours wishing, bargaining and hoping, and it is all for naught.

Reality wins, only but 100% of the time.

 

Once you get into the routine of accepting, it actually allows you choices.

You can't make a choice on a wish; but you can on something that actually exists.

 

It is easier on your mind and mental state of being, when you accept the unacceptable.

I believe that once you bring your mind to where your body lives, it is easier on all parts of you.

 

Having a mind that refuses to be where you are, and dealing with the realities of your life, has to be a very confusing state to be living from.

If it always wants what is not.

 

The thoughts of non-accepting feel horrible in my body.

I can feel when my mind leaves reality.

 

Just as it was intensely horrific when my mind entered into reality for the first time.

To see what I had been categorizing all wrong in my mind and then to be in a reality that was tragically brilliant.

 

Our inability to be with truths, takes a toll on our minds and our mental well being.

 

We didn't choose to leave reality.

Our minds did us a favor, as children, in order to survive some scary home situations.

In our heads, our minds were able to not see reality in order for us to be okay while living with abusive adults.

 

It became a way of life, to not see when things are not right.

 

Sometimes, our minds are not able to see until we are in a safe place.

A relationship or when we are capable to living on our own.

And, even when we are the adult and have a child who needs us to step up.

 

My mind was my savior and my enemy.

It blocked out the abuse, but then allowed me to be in situations that were not good for me.

 

When reality could no longer be denied, I was able to see.  And, it was a blessing and a curse.

It was as if I grew up and became an adult at 46.

I then had the choice, sorta to either do what my mother did and try and create a pretend life around a truth that was too awkward to hide.

In fact, I am astounded that we were able to live as a 'normal' family for all those years.

It boggles my mind. 

The only way it worked is that our minds all created a coverup.

 

Malcolm Gladwell's new book "Talking to Strangers" mentions the "Default to Truth".

Where in our minds default to truth, regardless of what is.

It clearly sees only what it wants to see and disregards the rest.

His book is very interesting, when you see this playing out on the worlds stage today.

 

Defaulting to truth is not often about the truth, but what you think is the truth.

Or, what you have been conditioned to think.

How we have preconceived ideas before we ever meet someone.

Our minds have made up our minds ahead of time.

And, it is really hard to go against our Default to Truth, that we had in place for years.

 

Malcolm found it incredible how families were able to not see the abuser among them. How they couldn't change their default to truth.

 

What his book shows is that there are so many of us, who live a few steps from reality due to various conditioning of our minds.

Just as so many Christians were taught to believe a truth about Gays, that have nothing to do with the real human beings.

Or we have been conditioned that white skin is better than another color.

This church is better than that church.

Or my way is the right way. 

 

All of that kind of programming, leaves us out of reality.

It was mind blowing to me, to see my programs running.

In a loop outside of reality.

Where reality was literally blind to me.

How can this programming and conditioning, not mess with our mental state of being?

Or, have us feeling at war, if you will against reality.

How can we even trust ourselves.

Let alone trust who we believe the other person is.

We believe in a world that doesn't even exist, and pre-judge others due to our own programming.

 

I was a mess at 46.

I didn't know what was up and who was who.

All of my conditioning and programming, seemed to favor abusive people and a cult like religion.  It was like their mind viruses lived out as me.

 

I don't know how you can challenge your Default to Truth that was set by your parents/religion/schools/communities/people of the same kind as you.  But, maybe we can at least admit we don't know all that we think we know.

 

I love the don't know mind.  

How can I really know.

Or as Maya Angelou says, "People teach you who they are, believe them the first time."

 

My life for the past many years has been a dual between reality and my mind.

Where I literally had to touch the arm of my chair to keep me in the here and now.

And, to enter into new friendships with a don't know mind.

 

This feels to me like mental wellness.

I have a great appreciation of the mind and its ability to weave a story with the least amount of information, as Dr. Jill Bolte-Taylor writes in her book – "My Stroke of Insight."

 

Our mental illnesses may be greatly relieved by our ability to challenge our minds with what is, accepting it fully.

"A mind convinced against its will is of the same opinion still." Benjamin Franklin