Tag: choices

  • Surrender to the Truth.

    “Between stimulus and response there is a space.  In that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response.  In those choices lies our growth and our happiness.”

     

    This quote is in Stephen R Covey’s book “8th Habit.”

     

    He goes on to write,

     

    With many who have grown up with unconditional love in supportive circumstances, the space may be very large.  With others, due to various genetic and environmental influences, it may be very small.  But the key point is, there is still a space there and it is in the use of that space that the opportunity to enlarge it exists.  Some with very large space, when facing adverse circumstances, may choose to cave in, thereby reducing the size of the space between stimulus and response.  Others with a small space may swim upstream against powerful genetic, social and cultural currents and find their freedom expanding, their growth accelerating and their happiness deepening.  The former simply do no open this most priceless of all birthday gifts.  Gradually, they become a function more of their conditions than their decisions.  The latter, perhaps stumblingly and with great sustained effort, open this priceless gift of freedom to choose and discover the force that releases almost all of the other gifts given at birth.

     

    The maverick psychiatrist R. D. Laing captured in the words below how failing to notice that we have this space kills our ability to change.  Humans alone have self-awareness.  Read, think about, and then reread this quotation:

     

    “The range of what we think and do is limited by what we fail to notice.  And because we fail to notice that we fail to notice, there is little we can do to change; until we notice how failing to notice shapes our thoughts and deeds.”

     

    An awareness of our freedom and power to choose is affirming because it can excite our sense of possibility, and potential.  It can also threaten, even terrify, because suddenly we’re responsible, that is ‘re-sponse-able.”  We become accountable.  If we have taken shelter over the years in explaining our situation, and problems in the name of past or present circumstances, it is truly terrifying to think otherwise.  Suddenly there is no excuse.

     

    I am rereading this book, and this is the part that caught my attention the first time around.  It filled me with hope that I could stretch and grow that space between stimulus and response, and that I too would have enough space to remember myself.

     

    The other part I loved was the part that we “failed to notice, we failed to notice.”

     

    My sister in her last message to me suggested that she is seeing a different mother.  Perhaps she is seeing what she failed to notice before.

     

    Just because we fail to notice, doesn’t mean that the truth wasn’t always there to notice, but for some reason, perhaps survival, we failed to notice, we failed to notice.

     

    What then do you do with a ‘different’ mother?  What steps are you being asked to take, what happens if you take none?

     

    What I believe happens if you begin to take that one step, is that the space will open wider and wider for more steps and more choices, without taking one step, the space gets smaller.

     

    I didn’t know that it gets smaller, that it shrinks, but also so do you.  You become less and less of who you are.

     

    I know how difficult it is to make a change, to step out and do one thing differently, but I also can feel the death of self in the no choice mode.

     

    Isn’t it odd that he uses the word ‘taking shelter’ in the failing to notice, but once you do, all excuses fall down!

     

    My sister is standing there trying to decide what kind of mother she is holding in her heart and hands? 

     

    What will she see?

    Do you see what I see?

     

    That moment in time, where you look down and see what kind of mother you really have, it is not a pretty sight.

     

    It rips through you with such speed and anguish it leaves you forever changed. 

     

    The rapid tumbling of emotions and knowing create a torrent of thoughts, past and future slamming into each other each claiming to be the truth, you get left in a place of great distress and unknown, in a very doubtful mind, a messy and confused mind.

     

    For if you didn’t see who your mother really was, then who are you?  What else did you fail to notice, what other choices did you blindly make, what parts of your world is really real and how much else is a scam?

     

    It seems to me it is the first block to shatter, the first piece of the flimsily held puzzle, it’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, it was the one missing link, to see a mother who can’t see you.

     

    My first piece was to see my father, but in close succession behind him she fell, and then my whole life was like cascading dominos fell crashing upon each other.

     

    She is either standing there trying to keep the first domino from falling or lying beneath the rubble.

     

    The first domino is shaking, wobbling and tilting, what will she do?  Will she prop it up and hold on to it, or will she be too tired and let it all go?

     

    I am waiting for her next move, it is hers to decide and she alone is the one standing with her heart and hands holding the mother domino upright.

     

    Why is it the child who has to let go, why do we have to be the ones to walk away, to ask for space, to be the ones to face the truth?  It seems too much to ask.

     

    A child stands hands and heart holding, knowing when she lets go, the mother will fall, what strength it takes to let go!

     

    Surrender seems such a gentle word, unless you have to surrender to the truth.

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  • A voice and a choice!

    The dialogue continues with my sister and I.  That alone is surprising.  What she continues to show me is how she seen him and experienced the hurt.  What she fails to see is a way out of the hurt.

     

    I will repeat myself, that it doesn’t make it better to have your abuser be a your father, a man you trusted, loved and who fed and clothed you, IT MAKES IT WORSE.

     

    Wrapped up in and twisted around in is love and abuse. You can’t seem to tell where fear begins and love ends, or visa versa.

     

    Then let’s add the expectations of others as to how a daughter should act, and even expectations of your self!  Who are you if you can’t love and honor the father?

     

    I am certain this is where the rubber meets the road, the separation or division between my family and me.

     

    Perhaps they did see who he was, but they didn’t know how to stop being the role they had for many long years.

     

    Isn’t it funny it isn’t about him or who he is, but rather about who you are.

     

    Who are you in your relationships, what do you allow or not allow?  What would cause a daughter to give up her role, is there a line that has to be crossed, what is the line?

     

    My sister bravely stood in front of him, stated her fears and revulsion of him, yet couldn’t stop being a daughter.

     

    I know that in the past, I have heard of others who stand staunchly in their places amidst great forces, and I used to think how strong and how brave.

     

    But when I see a child who has been abused by a parent continue to be with or feel obligated to them, I see the breakdown of free choice.

     

    There seems to be a binding that takes place at a very young age, a bonding of sorts, one that will hold strong over the greatest evils, blood indeed is thicker than water.

     

    To break away, to stop being in a relationship takes more strength than staying.  And staying has to be very very hard.

    Maybe it is the opposite, for to stay would have killed me.

     

    How interesting it will be if we can continue to dialogue out why she stayed and why I left.

     

    Two abused girls with different reactions. 

     

    I will not judge them why they stayed, for I know the pain of leaving.  I know the cost of losing all, yet I also know the glory of finding a free self.

     

    I am free and strong, I now have a voice and a choice.

    I love that, “a voice and a choice” that is what all humans should have.

     

    He is allowed to be the man he is and I am allowed to walk away.  My mother is allowed to be the woman she is, and I am allowed to walk away.  I am not staying in a place that doesn’t suit my new found truths; I am not staying for their good and my detriment.

     

    I walked away from them, but straight into being me!

    At last I was present in my world, I had a voice and a choice!

     

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  • ….walked as you.

    My sister sent a request on facebook a few days ago, a ‘friend request’ and I accepted it with some trepidation.

     

    I am not sure why she is stepping into my world after 4 years and I asked her that.  I also asked if she still holds on the to views of her last letter.

     

    So far there hasn’t been a response, perhaps my request is not one she is willing to answer.

     

    In life we are asked many requests and in the past I would jump in without first asking a few questions or testing the waters, if you asked, I jumped and usually asked how high!

     

    Now, I am much wiser and hold my heart in a place of value, I just don’t go walking into places that will hurt me.

     

    Her silence could mean many things, yet I am surprised that her eagerness to have me back seems to be on pause.

     

    What stopped her?  What made her stop her advancement?  What has her retreating or re-thinking….and she could be asking the same of me.

     

    I know why I am not eagerly walking forward to embrace this woman, my experience of her still rings in my ears. 

     

    I invited her to read my blog as a way to find out if our ideals match, to see if she still wanted to be my friend. 

     

    Where can the two of us meet, what common ground is there for us to stand upon?  Why does she now feel that she wants to be part of my life, and which part?

     

    What part of my life do you want to enter into?   You suggested that you love me, so which part?  And that you have hopes of all the sisters reuniting, what will we reunite?

     

    How can I unite with you, we seem such opposites.

     

    I have always felt that if a brother or sister walked towards me I would meet them half way and not turn around.

     

    I am standing here facing you, asking what it is you feel inside about me.  It is a fair request.

    What do you see in me?

     

    In order to love me, you have to know me.  You can’t just love what you dream of me to be.

     

    I am not a thought in your head about what a sister should do, could do, or would do; I am a live walking talking moving person.

     

    Do you know me outside of your dreams?

     

    If you want to enter into a relationship with me, I ask just for your truth, show me who you are.

     

    If you are reading the blog, go back to the beginning and read along, it will open your eyes as to who I am, and I will understand if you withdraw your request.

     

    It seems that I became the enemy, the other side, and I know that you will have to forsake all you have ever known to walk along with me.

     

    It is way too much to ask.

    It is and will always be up to you to be with me.

     

    I understand your silence.

    I am the monster you fear the most.

    I am reality.

     

    I am reality walking and doing free of dysfunction, an enemy of your mind, your thoughts and your beliefs, your love and your security.  I am the opposite of all you have even been.

     

    Your silence will be a signal that you are not wanting to be with me.  I understand.

     

    I know where you are sitting…. I sat there.

    I know what you are thinking, I thought there.

    I know where your loyalties lie, I was loyal too.

    I know you for I know me.

     

    I wish you peace with this decision.
    I wish you strength and courage.

     

    I walked free….so I know you can too.

    You are much braver than me!

     

    A sister, one who walked as you.

     

     

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