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  • The Shame Lives when we hide it…bravery is born when we don’t!

    We can’t know the obstacle courses another person is navigating in their lives, what sorts of soul wrenching choices they are making, what tricky waters they are navigating by how they present themselves daily, for most often we are taught to ‘put our best face forward’ and not share the nitty and the gritty, the sad and devastating and we have all become masks of covering up.

    How did it become more natural to pretend than to walk in authenticity, like we get points for being the most put together and champions of keeping our ‘messes’ well hidden?

    So that now it seems that a person who speaks their truth and walks it is a phenomena instead of the norm.

    What is it about human nature that we want sunshine and blue skies, peace, love and joy and push back and away from feelings and emotions of great tragedy, yet live it anyway?

    The behind the scenes drama would be better served in front and out loud. To simply present to the world your selves dressed in your dirty laundry and wear it with flare.

    To be as disheveled on the outside as the raging confusion and overwhelming emotions of pain on the inside and for it all to match, instead of primping and struggling to remain perfectly coiffed while totally unraveling.

    It seems we want perfect looking lives whether we live them or not and we will struggle to pull it off, and feel victorious if we can walk around in public hiding our broken insides.

    Imagine the world and how much more relaxed it would be if our insides would appear as accessories, if we were allowed to wear our confusion outside, what great advice would pour our way and how comforting it would be to see that you were not alone.

    And, the greatest news is that the secrets would die for it would be unfashionable to not have colorful deeply intriguing soulful items displayed on your chest.

    Imagine the white blankness of indifference compared to the wildly attractive colors of wrestling with overcoming abuse?

    How nice it would be to get rid of the social presentation and just be our selves…

    What happens with these social masks and if they are good actors, is that you never get to know the real person, just the nice set of clothes that walk around.

    In walking and talking about my ‘dirty’ laundry or my truth, I have had the greatest privilege to hear others real life…they relax and be them selves where the social outside disappears and underneath is this wildly exciting alive soul living life, going through huge lessons of growth and inner knowing.

    Life is lived underneath the perfect faces and put together clothing and if you dare wear your dirty laundry in public you will find others who are eager to do so too.

    My dirtiest of the dirt is that I have a pedophile for a father and once I openly displayed this, owned it, spoke it, I have been free to display other shades of dysfunction as well, and little by little my whole self is allowed to come forth.

    I have become comfortable in my own skin and wear my abuse as a badge of courage not of shame; it’s one of the last diseases that need to be socially acceptable.

    Human nature when its abused creates this, it isn’t a bug, it is spread from family member to family member and I truly believe that the more we talk about this and the more we openly display our abuse, the less power it will have and its insidious spreading will recede.

    Incest is hidden behind nice looking clothes and demeanors, and family’s monsters are protected and made normal so as not to stand out and look odd…and we need to undress this normalcy and own it.

    When we own it we begin treating the root cause…we find the line and the path of destruction and can one by one bring them in the open and see how their abuse affected them.

    Are they still being victims or have they taken over and become what abused them? And we have to recognize that they are acting out perfectly for being abused.

    “Hurt people hurt people.” They are not natural monsters; they became this way coming from whence they came.

    While we can see the wolf in sheep’s clothing, we never treat the wolf we just pet the lamb.

    Petting the monster will not stop the abuse; it is only facing the monster within that we can begin to affect the root cause.

    Undressing and exposing the monster is a step in the right direction.

    Isn’t it funny, but we all know we are petting a lamb with the volatile wolf underneath…yet we are too afraid to know it and speak it and do something about it. It is much easier to pretend it is a lamb the whole way through, even though the wolf fangs are showing and we have bites to prove it…

    I know the cost of not disrobing the wolf…of pretending that he is only a lamb.

    Our children need to know from us adults in the room, that a monster is sitting in their presence and if we treat him like a lamb, so will they.

    It is time we call a spade a spade, a monster a monster and a molested child a molested child. It is time for us to wear our wounds on the outside with courage.

    The shame lives when we hide it…bravery is born when we don’t!

  • Uncontrollable me.

    My Art Quilt group was challenged to work with silk and yesterday we shared our experiences.

    If you all have seen or felt or worn silk, you know that it is a moving fabric, it is slippery and slides like it has a life of its own.

    As I played with the silk, I enjoyed it self-expression, its fluid nature lent itself to being used for water and it stands out instead of laying flat pressed neatly like the typical cotton quilt fabric. Used for Lady’s skirts it was fabulous, for it moved and flowed easily.

    It stretched our imaginations to use this alive moving fabric, for you can’t cut it easily, it doesn’t lay down stiff, it glides and wiggles, so in order to make it behave, you have to put a ‘stabilizer’ under it.

    I sat and listened to how some ‘controlled’ the silk to make it lay down like cotton and I was confused. How they added a straightener to back side to take out the fluidity and light airy movement.

    I didn’t quite get why they wanted to take away what is so alive and electric…yet did understand in order to make it fit into their patterns, they had to.

    Last night as I was about to fall asleep, it came to me. They were trying to control the delightful movement it naturally has, the way it just is uncontrollable and instead have it perform like cotton.

    It isn’t cotton, but if you add a foundation of interfacing or another lightweight ‘controlling’ fabric, it will now act like cotton.

    Then a thought came in that the silk fabric represents how live moves and flows and how we all want to put a ‘stabilizer’ on it so we can know how it will go or so we can ‘control’ it better. We are not comfortable with the unknown or with the flow speaking to us, we like to speak to the flow and tell it how to move.

    So, as children do we arrive like silk, flowing, moving, uncontrollable and not easily handled, and then our parents and society add ‘stabilizers’ or straighten us out, and we become rigid and flat. We may have a shiny surface, but we don’t move with the freedom from within, our natural self has been hardened for control.

    We may look the same, but we don’t move the same or respond in our natural free expression, we have been added layers of beliefs and programs so we fit into the pattern of society, we line up and become a piece of the quilt our family has been creating long before we arrived.

    When I played with the silk fabric I was extremely excited about the way it moved and slide around, how it challenged me to find ways to adjust to its nature, I never once thought to make it work differently and I was so shocked that others found a way to settle it down.

    While it does lend shimmer and shine to the cotton that lays next to it, it somehow made me feel sad for the silk to see it so lifeless, its wiggle unwiggable, its flow flattened like being in a straight jacket.

    I love that now I feel more like silk, I move in my own natural way, I don’t want or need ‘stabilizer’ that comes in shades of religious beliefs and societal conformities.

    I want to be the wiggly uncontrollable me.

  • What you see and say.

    I am reading David Hawkins book “Reality, Spirituality and Modern Man” and here is something I found fascinating…

    “The mind automatically assumes that it is continuously aware of reality, and it is unaware that what it considers to be reality, is actually own presumptive inner processing function that has been termed ‘the experiencer’ (Hawkins, 2000-2006).”

    “Thus the data has already been automatically processed and edited via ego mechanisms within 1/10,000th of a second that have thereby added or subtracted value, meaning, and importance as well as emotional tone and shadings of memory and significance. What the ordinary mind presumes to be “truth” is actually a processed composite of thousands of variables of differing degrees with superimposed editing, selection, distortion, and emotionalized, preferential evaluation. This editing is done unconsciously in 1/10,000th of a second and is not eliminated or bypassed until one reaches Enlightenment (cal. 600 and above.)” David Hawkins

    What I am extremely intrigued by is that our minds are already programmed to see that which we see and it is near impossible to interject a new idea especially in an old image.

    Which explains why most folks will not change their minds about fathers/brothers/uncles etc that become abusive. Even if their bodies carry the emotions and fears, their minds will not allow them to change the words from father to pedophile, to change the truth.

    What I am asking is for folks who don’t have this ironclad confused mind leading the charge, for the ones who can see and can speak to do so.

    To speak up against this criminal behavior of child abuse, to step in front of the unseeing eyes and see the truth of what is going on and to alert someone.

    We somehow sit in the position that someone in the family would speak IF something were going on. I am here to tell you it is near impossible for the abused and confused to stop this from the inside.

    The rumor mill on the outside churns and spews forth lots of data, but rarely offers the details up to the Child Protective Services, we don’t want to ‘ruin’ a family.

    Let me tell you a family that is riddled with sexual abuse is diseased and needs to be rescued. It needs the light of day to shine in and to halt the actions of the abuser; it needs you to say something. You are not ruining a loving family, but stopping the abuse from going on to generations upon generations. An abusive family isn’t a loving one.

    You may not awaken all the folks within the family, but perhaps you can save one person, one child…

    What I know to the dept of my soul, if you on the outside treat the pedophile as normal, then we believe we are nuts.

    If you on the outside would reflect what we know, “that something is wrong” then we are set free…we are looking for another view, one that honors the fear and yuck factor we feel.

    When you continue on as if nothing is wrong, as if this man is okay, if you continue to perform ‘normal treatment’ of him, we are left in a sea of abuse.

    We are counting on your clear eyes and words to set us free…

    Some will be awakened and others will be incapable of finding the space before the mind takes over and eliminates your truth, but speak it anyway, for you never know if there is one there that can and will be saved by what you see and say.

  • Who can End it.

    If you knew of abusive behavior in your town, your church or your family would you speak? Would you contact someone to help the children who are at risk or who have already been abused?

    While most seem to think this is a no brainer, you would be very surprised at the amount of people who speak amongst each other passing around our abuse like useless pieces of paper, but WILL NOT speak of it to the authorities.

    If you knew enough to keep your children away, but not share this info with Child Protective Services, why isn’t that enough to voice your suspicions out loud and to the people who can make it stop?

    I know why I am not hearing this for I am one of the people who is spoken about in the talking rings, in the circles of sharing others troubles, but if you can speak it out loud to another, why oh why can’t you speak of it to the Child Protect Services.

    Within my old church, I have far off snippets of info, which are passed on like faint echoes, but nothing with enough information that I can share. In fact, most will not mention names and feel its honorable.

    What in the world is it that keeps us from speaking the names and loudly of those who rape, fondle and abuse children? Who are we as humans to share these crimes but not report them?

    What will it take to break the silence?

    Being in the camp of abusers I hear little, and those that know more are silent. I feel drowned in frustration at the ‘good Christian folk’ who act so unchristian like.

    It seems they are on the side of evil, for all it takes for evil to prevail, is for good men to do nothing! (Can’t remember whose quote that is.)

    If only I had the ear of everyone in just my old church, who knew and is sitting holding that information as something juicy to share…please get up and hand it over to someone who can stop this insanity.

    Your secrets are undermining all you hold sacred…in fact your silence is adding daily to the team of abuse.

    If only I knew why silence is more comfortable than saving one child from an abuser? The generations that are affected, the years that pass, the days that go by and the abuser lives to abuse and the information pass harmlessly among those who will not stop it. What insanity this is?

    My one wish is that you find the strength to take one shaky step in the direction that can put a stop to even one abuser.

    If you know enough to speak of it, speak of it to those who can end it.

  • Self Love

    If you held a woman’s vagina sacred, if you held a woman sacred, you couldn’t murder her or rape her or mutilate her or hurt her. Eve Ensler

    I just listened to the Vagina Monologues.

    What an incredible and insightful look at the one body part that has been used and abused to take our spirits and how sad most often it occurs in young childhood, before we even know it intimately ourselves.

    The heart of a woman, the place where we can experience and express the wild nature of women, is captured and raped before we even connect, stolen before we find our own worth.

    Eve Ensler opens the dialogue in how detached and unowning we are to our own body parts after they are misused.

    We walk away from the wound too.

    We treat ourselves as others treated us, without care or feeling, we turn ourselves off.

    In one part she mentions a group of young girls who just returned from Rape Camp and how they lined up with their mothers to have a picture taken, and not one of the girls looked at the camera, all heads down in shame.

    Looking down in shame for being raped.

    It is how they see themselves now, through the eyes of their abused vagina.

    Their sense of being a woman has completely changed by the treatment their vaginas received.

    The treatment they received is now the ruler of self worth.

    What a journey into regaining your power back, to hold yourself worthy, to find the specialness, to feel again after the most sensitive and sensual part has been brutally treated.

    By looking at abuse from the body part which abuse occurred is to see the difference between a sacred and loved vagina to one who has been ravaged by abuse.

    Again, the saddest part to me is that very young girls are being abused before they even know what it is, how it works, that it is sacred, that it is an expression of love, a tool for pleasure not pain, and they are driven away from the most intimate part of themselves.

    This disconnect creates frozen or careless owners, where they are ‘ice maidens’ or floozies. The swing from one pole to the next shows how out of control of their bodies they are.

    Learning to love and hold sacred our own bodies is a huge part of the healing process, to reclaim them from the abusers, redefining them once again, returning them back to their innocence.

    Because it is such an intimate part of ourselves, when abused, we lose our sense of intimacy, a personal loving relationship with self.

    This loss of self intimacy is our greatest loss…we lose reverence and sacredness of self, we lose our own self love.

  • Mother for them.

    I want to say “Happy Mother’s Day” to all the mothers out there who stood up and did what was hard to do.

    Who had a voice that spoke out when their hearts were breaking, who walked away from their home and family to end abuse.

    Who were willing to leave all they have ever known to change the course of abuse in their children’s lives.

    Mothers who walk with shaky legs and confusion, but walk anyway, the ones who can see the hurt child…and then nothing in life matters more, they walk against many who demand their silence.

    The mothers who will give up her dreams for the safety of her children deserve all the accolades of this day.

    The mother who is in fear, but walks anyway, who leaps into the unknown to save her child, I cheer you on.

    These are mothers of true courage and strength and willingly walk face to face with life’s greatest fears to save a child, theirs and others. They do not sit silently and watch and not get involved, they leap when others sulk back.

    They are the heroes who this day belongs to.

    Mothers, who mother in love, walk fearlessly against evil, and are a strong secure place to be held. Who you can trust and who will lead you to your highest good.

    My Happy Mother’s Day wishes and good energy go to you.

    May you stand tall when the world is falling, when your voice is the lone one in the sea of silence, may you find your courage within you, and know that the Universe walks with you always.

    Feel inside and you will feel the strength of all the mothers who sat in fear, they are cheering for you to show them the way.

    Even mothers need heros, you are a mother for them.

  • Warn the Authorities.

    I had a multifaceted dream just before waking this morning, confusing about places, time lines and doings, but yet totally clear with overall theme.

    I was at a high school reunion that was taking place at my childhood home and I left early, just walked out. In my car as I was leaving I seen my old neighbor running through his house with little boys chasing him. The next time he passed in front of the big bay window, he is wearing underwear, boys still laughing and chasing him. He then heads for the upstairs, stops midway and I see his underwear have fallen and his butt is showing. He stops on the step and turns…it is like he wants me to see him…doesn’t move for a second or two and then ascends the stairs…little boys following.

    I even notice that the stairway has been moved, for in the old floor plan, I would not have seen him taking the game to the upstairs bedrooms, out of sight.

    In the dream I call my brother to tell him…and then the next thing I am in a grocery story and see another old neighbor boy who is now an older man with a gray haired ponytail, and he is carrying a little boy who wants to get down…he lets him go. He and the boy are fully dressed and appear normal.

    I am buying a drink for my son who is in the hospital for a surgery and have witnessed in the dream my husbands loving teasing ways with him.

    This underwear game man juxtaposes the normal or regular men to boy scenes. The cat in the matrix, that something isn’t right, showing me the differences…and how I didn’t run over and wrestle with the man who was in the midst of a pedophile game.

    Yesterday Oprah asks her audience after listening to the Freedom Riders, what do you know that is wrong and what are you doing about it?

    What do you know or sense or feel isn’t right and what are you doing about it…?

    Leads me to sit with my life and ask what do I know that is wrong and is there something I should be doing about it?

    It just occurred to me in the past few days, that I don’t recall others talking about pedophiles to me. Of me being aware of knowing about other families. I just have no memory of them warning me of creepy men…and then I had a flash of knowing, it was me they were talking about. I lived in the creepy home. I was in the subject of what others were talking about, they didn’t tell me, for I was already there.

    This was shocking to know. No one brought the discussion about pedophiles and creepy men up to me, for my father was a known one.

    I find it fascinating and sickening to know that many knew and only warned others to stay away.

    In order for this disease to stop spreading, the ‘early warning’ system has to be ended, we have to learn how to step in, speak up, tell the authorities…do something.

    Even if you have known for years, now is a good time to do something different.

    I was taught to not speak ill of others, to not point out their negative behaviors, ‘for we all have faults’…silence was my first response.

    And I know I am not alone, there are pews full of well-intentioned good people, silently sitting by warning others to stay away, but not wanting to use their voice in a ‘negative’ way, to use it to tell someone suspicions of a child being abused.

    All it takes is for someone to alert the authorities and they will ask the child.

    It takes someone from the outside in the land of normal to come in and rescue those who were born in captivity.

    We know no different, we need you to speak up on our behalf.

    I have heard a few stories in the past six years, but I too didn’t move on it, didn’t speak up, for I who they spoke of I didn’t know, didn’t know their children or who they had access too. But what I also didn’t do is tell the person who told me, to not warn me, but warn the authorities.

    “What do you know that is wrong in the world and what are you doing about it…” Oprah Winfrey

  • Out of Control.

    The different responses to the death of a monster intrigue me and set me to wonder who in my life I needed to die?

    Whose death would bring me joy or freedom?

    Is there someone out there holding on to a part of me that is held hostage by their actions?

    No one came to mind.

    Most may think I will send up a resounding cheer upon the death of my father. But his death will be anticlimactic, for I have found my freedom and joy long before his passing.

    He is not holding on to any part of me, I am free and I don’t need him to die. I do not wait for his death.

    I heard on the radio yesterday that there are times when we have to amputate a relationship, to cut it out of our lives in order to live a whole life.

    The relationship suffered a death, I didn’t need him to die, I just needed to kill the relationship.

    I have stopped cold many relationships that impinged upon my own inner peace and wellness. I didn’t need the person to die; I just needed my relationships with them to.

    When we give them the power until death, we gain nothing.

    It is in the speaking up and taking back your life that you will find the power.

    I strongly believe that monsters need to be locked up, be made to stop hurting and killing others, but what I don’t understand is the sense of freedom and joy that rang out.

    The cheers have the markings of a monster themselves, a gleeful energy upon the death of another seems so barbaric and without reverence for the soul that was lost behind the sea of dysfunction and abuse.

    Isn’t there a saying about how we treat the least among us?

    Perhaps I have met and danced with my own inner monster and I have such compassion for the lady who stole my life and lived it out in the only way she knew coming from whence she came.

    I didn’t even cheer when she died, but I cheered when I became free from the madness inside of me.

    I cheer for inner victory.

    I cheer for being able to do this by only killing the monster inside of me, for wrestling with my shadow and winning.

    It is becoming stronger than the monster that peace will be won.

    To me we all have an inner monster to dance with and when you can succeed at winning that one, we will all live in peace and harmony.

    The seeds of a monster live within all of us and you don’t know what will make your monster come alive until you are fully engaged and out of control.

  • Don’t Put Time First.

    We cannot waste time. We can only waste ourselves. ~George M. Adams

    I love this phrase. How we think we are only wasting time, when what we are doing is wasting ourselves.

    As you look upon the day, we are asked to make choices by what life offers up to us, we can vote yes or no and that will decide how we used up time.

    I now know it is not a waste to sit by the river, to just be with singing birds, to experience the vast array of nature, but for me, it is a waste to be barraged by negative energies.

    I don’t mind messes and a good crisis, but I do mind people unwilling to change or look at things in a new light, and who are just giving commentary from a mud puddle.

    It isn’t a waste of myself to lend a hand while someone is changing direction, but it is to just watch him or her sit.

    I focus less and less on time and more and more on what I am doing, where I am and how I feel.

    I used to race time on my mail route, for we get paid salary, and it seemed like I was beating the system to go fast, yet I missed the ride, while focusing on time.

    Now I experience the route, the people, the animals, the changing landscape, the weather, I am on the route. I am there in each moment and time passes unnoticed and at the same pace.

    It is amazing how your life will change when you don’t put time first.

  • Supporting Me.

    Listening to Eve Ensler on the Ted Conference about Security was amazing. I know she is right, that those of us who lost our security are the ones who will actually take the steps to make a difference.

    With nothing left to lose, we lose nothing.

    We can speak up and speak against what we suffered, our strength and courage comes from all that we lost and have experienced.

    We become strong when we can speak up as to spare another.

    My voice isn’t always accepted, my truths are not easy to hear, yet who better to listen to than one who has already been there?

    Inner security knows you can survive for you have.

    I am secure in knowing there is no security.

    It can’t be bought or orchestrated, life happens.

    Like Byron Katie, I am comfortable now in the don’t know life, where before I had rigid boundaries of knowing and in the end all the knowing I knew were proven wrong.

    Now I have security in the Universal power supporting me.

April 2026
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I M Perfect, and it is impossible not to be.

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