I M Perfect lady

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  • My Art Shows my Inner Changes.

    I had put off pricing my quilts, for the task seemed overwhelming. Today I asked a special friend of mine to give me hand, to see if we could find a respectable price that our local market would hold, yet honor the energy and Art of each piece. 

    The pile of twenty was quickly moved into smaller categories of size and composition.  From that point, we appraised its energy, story and fabric content (hand-dyed vs store bought) and found a price. 

    Once the prices were in range, I then went to work on giving each a name and brief description.

    These quilts had been set aside as quilts I could sell, for they didn't seem to have what I called my story line or were part of my healing Art Therapy, or had a bit of me in them. Yet when I began to give them titles and sit and stare at each one, all are part of my journey and in fact they hold energies of joy, feelings of sorrow, weight of tangled confusion, brilliant wisdom, subtle nuances and wistful growth, sisterhood, sister friends, soul sisters, etc…all carry a part of my healing, the past and the future.

    I could also see how my lady started.

    She was small. 

    She lacked movement and energy.

    She was drowned out by the color and design upon which she stood.

    As the years went on, she grew animated with movement, even her sorrow was pronounced…and her self worth blatantly evident in her size.,

    What I didn't expect from this collection of quilts is to see so much of me…and to feel the small almost unrecognizable me and the how the background energy moved into the Lady.

    Below are some from what I call my personal story line, that will show you how I saw myself back in 2005.

    IMG_3319
    She is one of the first ladies to emerge…Her size in comparison to the background really hit me.  How small I saw myself…insignificant almost. 

    IMG_3325
    Actually this one came before the previous one, for she doesn't even have hair… The writing in the quilting says, "Freedom to be free".  At the time it was a dream, a thought…a someday desire.  An unknown feeling. And the freedom seemed to be around me and I was trying to catch it.

    IMG_3281
    What struck me about these dancing ladies is the empty head…first I thought how sad, and then I thought, how delightful, to be empty of beliefs and thoughts, to be wide open. A clean slate…a new me. (this one was one of the first lady quilts to sell)

    In looking below at one of the latest quilts, one I pulled out of the pile going to Marquette, (I wasn't ready to let her go and she seems to be truly apart of my storyline) you can see how the lady and the background are equally as bright and infused with energy.  A balance…I am no longer smaller than my surroundings.

    IMG_8149

    So, no matter which quilt I have done, there you will find me…a snippet of my journey, a bit of inner wisdom and knowing…without words, you see me in the shape, color and design.  Wow, Art really is revealing.

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    The description I wrote for this quilt, titled, "Comfortable Wisdom"…is, 

      "She rests easy in knowing who she is, where she has been…no regrets.  She  fully accepts the past and is at peace with the present…a lover of reality."  

    You simply can't hide in Art…it sneaks into every aspect of what you create.  

    As odd as it sounds, the more time I spend with my art, the more I understand it and the more in awe I become.  While playing with the fabrics and designs I am blind to the subtle blaring messages that are screaming at me in silence.  Just amazing to not see yourself…it is a slow progression.  I changed as my art changed…or my art shows my inner changes.


  • Born to Cover it Up.

    A few months back I met with Detective Tom Rosemurgy, who suggested a meeting with a woman who works at Dial Help. She is the coordinator for Sexual Assault Serves…and the Volunteers.  All three of us met a few times, and our last meeting I met the Director, who suggested Volunteering.  Me, volunteering.  I said yes.

    Last night was our first class.  It is a small class, just two other women and me.  

    It will be very interesting to see how they approach victims in crisis, what technique is used etc.  The mission of Dial Help, is to help you help yourself.  Which I guess is the goal for all victims, to help themselves.

    We did role playing and it was very insightful how each of us approached the task of listening and then helping.  We did much better on the second round…and we have 26 more hours to go, plus a full day of sexual assault training.  

    Just so interesting in how we are taught to converse.

    What this will give me is the background and to see victims from both sides and to see what is helpful and what is not.  

    In fact, in each role playing scenario, we had to comment on what was helpful and then what was not, and then an overall discussion.

     "I have found it of enormous value when I can permit myself to understand another person."  Carl Rogers 

    This is quote was in our training materials and I love that we need to permit ourselves to understand someone else.  

    What a concept.

    I am finding it very interesting how they approach folks who call in crisis, who are seeking to be understood, and perhaps to even begin to begin in understanding themselves…and where they are or what circumstances they find themselves standing in.

    To me, unless you can see that you are in a mess, there is no mess to understand…or mess to work your way through. And if you keep telling yourself that all is okay, that nothing is wrong, to lay a positive overlay, you will never fully understand yourself.

    And without knowing yourself, you will unknowingly find yourself in crisis.  For, It is my humble opinion, after one class, that most crisis are years in the making….one choice after another, made without consulting you.

    I lived for years without ever truly listening to myself, my guts, my feelings and what I needed.  I understood my dysfunctional self, my co-dependency, but the real me was a stranger to myself.  

    I understood what I needed to do for others to keep relationships going…this me I knew very well.  She lived to support other lives.  

    Here is what Mark Nepo wrote today, that echos this.

    "I began, like so many of us, in a household where it was somehow my job to be the lightening rod for the family's tensions of unexpressed emotion.  In this way, I learned to be a problem solver, a rescuer, a caretaker. Through two marriages and countless friendships, I loved by taking on the clouded emotions of those I loved."

    "The tensions of other people's unexpressed emotions kept me from feeling my own depth and clarity.  My life became one of turbulence, always struggling to keep my head above the cloudy surface."  Mark Nepo

    This was me to a T.  I don't even believe my head ever cleared the muddy waters until my father was exposed for sexual assault.

    Imagine the unexpressed emotions that lived in my father's house?  And then feel the weight of all it. 

    I recall one night in particular, where I felt the full weight of these emotions, the enormous volume of how big this mess had actually grown over the span of my fathers unchecked abuse…and it was that night I let it all go.  Releasing me from 'fixing' or carrying it anymore.   I laid in my bed crying huge wracking sobs…giving up, feeling I was much to little for such a big task.

    It was in knowing that I couldn't solve it, that freed me.

    There was just way too many girls and their lives and their children's lives….that had been affected by this one man, and I wasn't big enough to be lightning rod to absorb it all. It was all I could do to feel my own emotions. 

    It took something this big to collapse my role of emotional absorber for the family.  

    While it felt like I had completely broken down, what actually happened, was the dysfunctional part of me broke…leaving in its place the space for me.

    A me I had never been with, alone.

    It was the second birth of me.

    I could see clearly me…and I could see clearly where I had come from.  

    And I also knew, immediately, that the me who lived for my first 46 years was not the real me, but an impostor, a survival girl, but she was not me.  She was a role I played to keep the abuse a secret…even from myself.

    Once the truth was out, there was no need for survival girl to live.

    This was in the days, where I walked each morning, for my emotions at times were too big for our house. On this particular day, I said good bye to my survivor girl. To the girl who tried to make right, that which was so not right. For the one who carried the weight of it all on her shoulders.  I cried for how in vain it all had been.  How insane it all had been…and then I told her to rest in peace.  It was never her job in the first place…It was a mess that she didn't create and it wasn't her job to fix it.

    I recall feeling such peace in letting her go. For her life was hard…and it never seemed to bear the fruit she planted.

    I also felt such peace at beginning a new life based on me.

    It wasn't that the crisis went away, but my responsibility for others died that day…and what was born was a girl who had to walk through all parts of her life and make adjustments based on her feelings and what was true for her.

    It wasn't an overnight sensation…it is 7 years and counting.

    I woke up in a life that I created to survive abuse, but not to face it.

    Once I faced abuse, there really was no need for this pretend self.

    My pretending self is truly the only thing that died. The one who wanted things to look better, feel better, be better, than what they actually were.  She lived to lie.

    She had to lie so I could survive.

    Without her lies, I would have known that I lived in a home with a pedophile and his wife who couldn't see what he was doing.  I would have been aware, but too little to move out.  

    The mind protected me by building up a pretend self and life.

    I can fully understand so many whose lives seem to be clearly lives of abuse, and how they are unable to see. Their pretender sees life for them.  Their survivor self was literally made to not see the truth.

    You don't even know you have a pretender self, until that which it is covering up gets exposed.  

    The survivor self  then doesn't know what its tasks are any more.  For it has no duties with the truth. 

    It was born to cover it up.  



  • When you have no choice.

    There is a gigantic system that some want to overlook when we see grown adults too afraid to make changes in their lives…the affects of being born into a cult and or an abusive family within a cult.  

    There isn't a normal choice button offered to us…it is removed very early on.  We are unable to make a change without there being drastic consequence.  In fact, the reason we let our choice button get removed, is that we didn't want the coldness, so we capitulated.  We wanted to be loved and accepted, so hence we followed along.

    Now, in order to not be a follower and to stand on your own, you will suffer the consequences you didn't want to suffer as a child.  

    In my experience, you remain silent and submissive, so as to not experience what you know awaits you if you change courses.  Out of fear, you remain the same.  

    It isn't a choice with equal consequences on each side. But one is going to go better for you than the other. 

    Neutral consequences is what is lacking.  It should be about what you want, and not what will happen if you make a certain choice.  This is where the freedom to be silent is removed, and in its place is a burden to bear.

    It is the weight of what it will cost to say what you need to say, that sits with me. 

    We are fooling ourselves and discounting the position they are stuck in, by overlooking this.

    It isn't about the silence or speaking at all…it what sits on the scales with them.

    Which is total manipulation and control.

    Children are groomed to do what others need in order to spare themselves the pain of going against them.

    This part of abuse, I overlooked.  

    Even though I lived it…my life reflects this consequence.

    I totally get and fully understand the fear, for intuitively each person knows what happens if you cross the line.  To overlook this part is to not fully see the whole part of why many give up their power, their lives and their free choices.

    They do so to be loved.  And I would challenge is it love?  My new definition of love is freedom.  If you are not free to speak, free to move, free to be….it isn't love.

    Abuse is when you have no choice.




  • Love doesn’t require Silence.

    When I thought more about being silent/anonymous out of fear…it is more like being afraid to talk, and not afraid to be silent.  

    They are actually safer in the silence than they would be speaking up. It is self protection to remain quiet.  And are only quiet about 'certain' issues.  We all know which topics are non-negotiable.  In each family and in the FALC, we know the cost of stepping out of bounds, and we know in abusive families, silence is what keeps the family together. 

     We can debate about silence and its merits…but I am talking about a group, of what I call, repressed individuals. People who have been raised not to have free access to their minds, their actions and certainly not to be able to freely express ideas that oppose the Church and family.  

    Just being born into the FALC…without ever living outside of its doctrine, has you at a disadvantage.  You are taught to be subordinate; less than.  And controlled by using the Fear of God's wrath and Hell. You are submissive out of fear.  Just as I believe they are now silent out of fear…but this time the fear from the inside or the fear of how their families will react.

    It seems fear is and has been a companion all along.  Fear of God and Hell….to fear of shunning.  And you will pay a price to speak out about family abuse as well.

    Again, we can focus on the silence and dismiss the fear.  But, I feel fear is the key component that keeps victims silent.  

    I know for fact, that there are people out there who will not even dare comment on my blog…or press "Like" on facebook…to be associated with me, like I am the devil incarnated for speaking up…and if they did, it would mean they too may hold similar views.  And they are not willing or able or ready to fully say how they feel etc.

    I am doing their greatest nightmare…using my name and telling it like it is.  I am also living the consequences they fear. Being an outsider in the family.  This the fear that keeps them silent. They are not silent for any other reason, it isn't pride or out of love…Love doesn't require silence.


  • Silence, when it isn’t a free choice, is abuse.

    I was reminded last night, that remaining silent is abuse…when you are afraid to speak.  Silence for the sake of silence isn't a bad thing, but it changes drastically if you are silent out of fear.

    Fear of being punished.

    Fear of not being believed.

    Fear of the indifference, once you dare to speak.

    Fear of telling is the second hit of abuse.

    I hadn't considered that their silence out of fear, is like still being abuse;  by not being able to talk free…means that you are still being abused.

    Each body, each mind, each heart and soul has the right to express itself…and if you are afraid of the repercussions…you are not free.

    Not being free, means someone is controlling you. Your fear is a clear sign.

    And I bet, it isn't that you are afraid of yourself, but afraid for yourself. Afraid at what actions will happen, how you will be treated etc. Your life will change when you walk through the fear and start speaking. But, I am here to tell you, it will change for the good.  

    You will be free from abuse.

    I failed to notice, that the silence was a clear sign, that the abuse wasn't over.  

    For all who are speaking out anonymously…it is a beginning.  One day, you will add your own name…and when you do, the steel grip it has on you will start to weaken and you will find more strength in speaking than you ever found in silence.

    Silence when it isn't a free choice, is abuse.


  • The Story of Becoming Me

    In reading the comments on the Extoots Blog, I marvel at the secrecy and how they hide their identities…while commenting freely about their religion; either why they stay or why they left.

    It is like they are talking about a government that will harm them IF they are found to be in noncompliance…or plotting to leave is punishable.  

    How is this a free religion when fear is so instilled in grown adults…where they are able to vote, drive and drink…but God forbid they speak up about a religion, so they leave their names out.

    It continues to shock me….but not surprise me. 

    Fear is what keeps them hiding their true identity….like criminals almost.  Or folks on TV, who, out of fear, distort their images and voices.  

    Isn't it odd that fear is the overlying sentiment and not enthusiasm for finding a new pathway, a truer life for themselves…or being so happy within their religion.

    I can respect their wishes, but if they only knew how self defeating it is to hide their truths.  

    By standing up and saying their names and standing with the truth of why they left or why they remain inside is very powerful.  

    It isn't about the religion itself, but the power of being proud of who you are.

    I don't know if it is like this when you leave all churches, but it sure seems that there are many people who are not willing to openly admit that they are no longer members of the FALC church and why….let alone speak it using their real names.

    However, I recall knowing I no longer matched the religion and wondered how I would tell my mother, how I would leave and what it would mean to my children to stop going. Funny, but sad…the reasons had nothing to do about me, but more to do about the folks around me.

    Once the investigation about my father happened, the door swung open easily…I didn't stay for others, I left for me.

    I didn't hesitate.  I didn't hide.  I left with the fullest of understanding, what I was leaving…even if I had no idea where I was going or where I would end up.  It didn't matter what others thought or said.  I followed my inner voice, my guts, my feelings and never, not once, have ever looked back with regret.

    How can I regret being Me?  

    How can I regret my truth?

    What I know for sure, is that you can't know what freedom is, until you have experienced being controlled.

    You could say, that religion brought me to freedom. 

    Just as living in a dysfunctional family brought me to know what love and wholeness was…I had to first learn what it was not.  

    Loving that I don't have to live anonymously!  I love that I get to live fully exposed as Me!  There is no part of me I want to hide…

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    Part of My Story Line Quilts….the story of becoming Me!

  • Will Bring in Awareness

     " Most of us avoid confronting ourselves"  Deepak Chopra

    What a profound statement.  Most of us live our whole lives confronting others and never turn our scrutiny on ourselves; to see how our actions are impacting the world. It is so much easier to criticize others and attack what they are doing wrong, compared to looking straight at your self.

    I had lived 46 years without looking at myself.  Incredible as it may seem, I never, or at least seldom, considered changing myself, but I fully expected the world to change to suit me.  

    In coming face to face with myself and all my actions, be them passively sitting in the midst of a dysfunctional family…or staunchly supporting a cult like religion, I never ever confronted me.

    What does it mean to confront yourself?  And how would it be if the world stopped looking outward, but began looking inward?  

    Imagine if in each situation, we all turned inward to see what we were up to…what is our intention, our fears, our concerns and expectations….and to challenge ourselves to deliver that to ourselves, releasing all others from serving you

    I am very much intent on NoT avoiding me….but in confronting all of my actions, thoughts and beliefs…. 

    Mark Nepo writes…

    "Live in your hands and your mind will learn how to bow like a root."  

    "Several years ago, while doing a poetry reading in New York City, I encountered an angry man who had just seen a woman get mugged.  He was so enraged he wrote a poem on the spot.  A pensive voice from across the room called out, "Yeah, it sure beats stopping the mugging."  I felt there was nothing left to say.  The story points up, painfully, how living in our thoughts removes us from the very real journey of being alive.  To always analyze and problem solve and observe and criticize what we encounter turns our brains into heavy calluses.  Rather than opening us deeper into the mystery of living, the over-trained intellect becomes a buffer from experience."  Mark Nepo

    I loved reading both of this….confronting what your hands are doing is exactly the answer to all life's big questions and then working to find out why.  Confront yourself will bring in awareness.

  • A New You.

    From Mark Nepo's "Book of Awakening", he writes.

    " There is very little difference between burying and planting. For often, we need to put dead things to rest, so that new life can grow.  And further, the thing put to rest – whether it be a loved one, a dream, or a false way of seeing – becomes the fertilizer for the life about to form.  As the well-used thing joins with the earth, the old love fertilizes the new; the broken dream fertilizes the dream yet conceived; the painful way of being that strapped us to the world fertilizes the freer inner stance about to unfold."

    "This is very helpful when considering the many forms of self we inhabit over a lifetime.  One self carries us to the extent of its usefulness and dies.  We are then forced to put that once beloved skin to rest, to join it wit the ground of spirit from which it came, so it may fertilize the next skin of self that will carry us into tomorrow."

    "There is always grief for what is lost and always surprise at what is to be born.  But much of our pain in living comes from wearing dead and useless skin, refusing to put it to rest, or from burying such things with the intent of hiding them rather than relinquishing them."

    "For every new way of being, there is a failed attempt mulching beneath the tongue. For every sprig that breaks surface, there is an old stick stirring underground. For every moment of joy sprouting, there is a new moment of struggle taking root."

    "We live, embrace, and put to rest our dearest things, including how we see ourselves, so we can resurrect our lives anew."  Mark Nepo

    I love the way he looks at things….in how we have to put things to rest, to realize when it is over and not drag dead things along with us in our present.

    And it is from the things that die that there is space for new things to grow.  

    I love too, that burying and planting look the same.  The difference is in the expectations…of sitting and waiting for the new to come forth OR lamenting over what you have lost and buried.

    If you can remain with the energy of planting and knowing new things will sprout given time…your expectations and intentions will come to life.  

    In my experience, if I had not let go and buried my dysfunctional way of life, a new and different healing way of life would not have grown.

    Buring and Planting look the same…it is all in how we view things.

    I was planting a future filled with love, peace and joy…a gardener and not a grave digger mourning over what I had lost.  

    Plant the things that no longer serve you…with the expectations to see flower A New You!


  • Truth was the courage I clung to.

    I would have a hard time remembering me being in the dark about abuse…of not even considering it or being drawn into conversations about victims of childhood sexual abuse.  That me seems so far back there, like way way way back, a woman I barely can recall.

    When I saw  a woman last week and heard her speak in fear of speaking out…it took me a few days to remember, that I once was her.  I forgot the trembling nerves to even begin to begin saying out loud and taking actions about abuse.  How the language was so foreign, and the feelings and emotions feeling like mountains that seemed to crush my breath.  To feel the slippery slope of my life sliding in the direction I didn't want to go, but had no way of stopping…taking me with it very reluctantly for there was nothing to hold on to…air and a bottomless space was all that was there.

    I didn't see me in her…I expected instead for me to be in her.  Which is impossible, without her walking any of my steps.  I didn't see her at all.  I talked to her without taking into consideration she was just moving into the swirling waters of coming to terms with the affects of abuse and its long reaching fingers.  

    I heard Ram Dass speaking to Oprah today, and the way he sees folks now, is that they are all in various carnations.  That there is a soulful reason for the life we are living that is beyond our roles.  That we are here to learn and grow our souls.

    Very intriguing to look at life from the angle of the soul, instead of how we typically see life is from our roles.  

    The more horrific the life; a Master is being born.

    I can see that there are various soul ages…for some are just beginning to awaken to the life beyond what is routinely paid attention to; the body, the mind and ego…our ages, friends and hobbies.

    There is a collection of us who are finding a deeper level to living here…one where awareness broadens and we begin to see more and more.

    When I was less aware…the truth could slip by in broad day light and I would not see it.  It was always there, but I had my attention else where.

    As I visited with this woman, I could see that her awareness was being drawn to the truth…and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it…and it frightened her and she didn't have experience joining it in words and actions; like a frightened child with no tools in her toolbox.

    It gave me the perspective I needed and she helped me recognize me just a few years back…and in doing so gave me empathy in seeing her as her….and me as me.

    She has been in my thoughts….it was like spending time with my younger self.

    Empathy is seeing yourself in others…and wondering what would my younger self need to know most?

    And thinking of this…I think she was given all the help she needed to begin her journey towards truth.  Truth!  Truth was the courage I clung to.

     

  • A Journal to take Home

    Last week when I sat by the Detective and asked him how things were going….he said, "I have two adolescent boys (who are talking to him about their sexual abuse) and I don't have nothing to give them….I am not sure about a journal, but I do wish I had something. And I surely can't give them the ones with the Lady on the front," he said with a smile and wistfulness. I said, "Let me ponder this and see what I can do."  

    I mentioned this conversation to my brother Carl (who was abused as a young boy) and he said he thought they would use a journal…he mainly didn't want them being overlooked.  He and I both felt it would be nice if Tom had a boy journal to offer.

    I found two smaller sketch journals as well as two black lined journals that I covered.  This was a stretch for me to make "boy" looking ones….or at least non feminine looking, yet still artful….a place to put such sacred truths.

    IMG_7862
    Above are the four I made this morning.  I wrote "Me, Mine, Love Truth, and I M Perfect" in the quilting.  I wanted to impart ownership as well as words that will reflect the essence of them speaking out.  

    IMG_7864

    I am in awe of such young brave boys…and even if they don't choose to take one, the idea will have been planted…to write.  It gives me hope that boys are now willing to speak up so they can be healed…to shatter the secret and open themselves up to living life in full disclosure.  Even if they never write, just having the ear of Tom Rosemurgy is huge.  He is such a kind soul.  And I want to help Tom as he helps them.

    IMG_7874
    May these journals find the right hands to hold them…and be a place to store the tragic truths of abuse.  Writing it down on paper, released the overwhelming emotions that swirled inside.  It was a place to go and talk…and cry.  A tool I used to find a clear mind.  May the children who pass through Tom's office shorten their pathway to healing…just by finding such a caring man…and a journal to take home.

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