I M Perfect lady

Tag: reasons

  • Sit and hear Why.

    It almost seems like my father’s life and its impact it had on so many little girls is the classic case, the textbook example of what happens when you ignore the truth.

    What happens when you feel a certain way, but tuck it away and not address it…for I had very strong feelings of not trusting him and certainly never wanted to be near him…this was just the way it was from the time I was so little.  I just never questioned myself or delved deeper in to why.

    The truth of my fear was never explored.  And in fact I grew to become accustomed to just being a person who didn’t have warm feelings towards her parents.  I never questioned why, I just lived this way, it was my normal set point.

    My parents determined my set point, and I never challenged why we were this way, it just was.

     When you are not able to discuss the whole truth of our lives, you are then living in this weird spot way above truth in a place called pretend.

    They pretended to be loving parents and I pretended to feel love…and I never felt I could challenge them, nor was there a great urge to do so, to blatantly just flat out want to lay it all on the table.  I am thinking subconsciously, I knew that once I crossed the line of no longer pretending, all hell would break lose…and it would have.

    Just by tugging on one little string, the whole ball of wax would have come undone.

    While I can understand that inside of our house how we would have had so much to lose by seeking the truth of our fears and suspicions, I am not really clear as to why the outside wasn’t able to be reckless with abandon and come in demanding the truth to be exposed.

    How is it that the parents of the neighborhood were not picketing outside of our driveway, demanding his arrest for what he did to their daughters?

    What stopped them? 

    Keeping them away from Ray is what I did.  I tried to stay back from him. My sisters tried to stay back from him…and I can understand the kids without an option to just stay away, but I still can’t comprehend how a parent who hears their child’s story…doesn’t take it to the law.

    My mother’s reasons were clouded in love and wanting to keep the family together at all costs. Her facing the truth would have destroyed her whole family as she knew it.  Her pretend loving husband and untouched girls would have come tumbling down.  She would have to face things she ignored for years.

    But what did the neighbors have to lose by prosecuting Ray?

    What stopped them from taking this to the 9/10’s of the law? 

    And this is being done in three separated homes and during the span of many years.  It didn’t all happen during one bad month…or a particularly awful summer, it went on for years in the same neighborhood.  Different girls and different parents same perpetrator and similar reaction.  No law was involved.

    Again, I can see what my mother would have to lose, she would lose everything…but as a neighbor what would you have to lose?

    My father wasn’t the cement that held the neighborhood together to make it this wonderful place to live, he made it a living hell for the girls, and yet the outside wasn’t willing to prosecute…and it just doesn’t make sense to me.

    Even the minister… why would he ask about motives for telling on a man who seldom, and I mean seldom sat his butt down on a church bench?  And not be stricken by the fact that a little girl is telling him of her wounds…instead to immediately go to the defense of Ray.

    Most it seems seemed to care more about what would happen to Ray, than what was happening to the girls, like they immediately swing their heads in the wrong direction, instead of moving heaven and earth to protect the child, they first consider what this information will mean to Ray and even perhaps to themselves. 

    It is the lack of police reports on this man for over 40 years that is so telling…and I am sure the reasons are varied and complex and believable by each person who did what they each did at the time.

    I am sure they understand their decisions.

    While I had feelings of being afraid of my father, I had no pictures, so I couldn’t know why…and when I heard that he molested my niece I immediately had my answer…But what I hadn’t expected was that others knew.

    I was blown sideways by the fact that I felt I was the last to know, like a wife of a cheating husband, it seemed that everyone knew and talked about what I didn’t know.

    No one but me seemed to be too surprised.

    While I was sent reeling and tumbling into an abyss others continued on with life as normal, for they had this information now for 30 to 40 years.  It wasn’t new news, but just the same old story coming around again.

    I was 46, and as incredible as it seems this information had been in place in other people’s homes and minds…the answer to my puzzled life.

    And I could tell immediately by the reaction of so many, that I was the last to know…and they now began turning away from me.  Which seemed even weirder.  We are all on the same page so let’s talk.  And yet, by this time…I knew who my friends were and what they kept from me and the cost. 

    I wasn’t really open to listening…and I am unsure today, I would still want to sit and hear why.

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  • All the wrong reasons…

    It is so very curious to me why I slip back into the sluggish life of no yoga, to allow my joints to become painful, my muscles slack, my hips to stiffen up so I waddle?

     

    How is it that when I know what to do to keep my body feeling ache free, I don’t do it?  Why do I have to wait until I hurt to do something good for me?  Why can’t I serve this good portion of life to me each day and eagerly and selfishly take it?

     

    The good things in life are not something I thirst for, instead I feel like it is ‘better’ to skip it, to just snuggle longer or not put my body through that routine.  Like I am getting away with something, that I am being rewarded for Not doing it, when the opposite is true.  I am hurting myself by not taking care of myself. 

     

    There is a long held belief that by not doing something I am cheating something or somebody, but not myself.  How is this possible?  Like I am getting away with something, but what?

     

    All I am getting away with is a ouchy body…I am not stealing healthy or fitness, I am stealing lazy.

     

    Just as with yoga I am the same with sugar or sweet treats.  I think I am sneaking in this ‘goodness’ but what I am stealing is bad for me.

     

    Isn’t it odd that I feel I am gaining something good, when in fact I am serving me poorly?

     

    And when I was doing yoga daily, taking care of my self, it felt like I was going against the grain, swimming against the currents, pushing hard instead of going with the flow.

     

    It is like I am programmed to swim in the wrong direction, that it is easier for me to not care.

     

    To re-program myself, I will have to do what doesn’t come natural, until I forge a new natural.

     

    It just seems so counter intuitive to want to treat your self poorly…that doesn’t make sense.  To WANT what isn’t good and force yourself to do what is, like taking medicine swallowing it reluctantly.

     

    You would think that we would crave that which makes us feel best, the greatest of natural foods and then movement that will make our bodies operate at their optimum…instead it seems we are hell bent on wrecking it.

     

    Wrecking our bodies, our spirits, our minds, our relationships…like we have a wrecking gene we need to destroy before it destroys us.

     

    I just get so befuddled by this, how unnatural us human beings are.  We are living for all the wrong reasons.

     

     

  • Turning Bad to Good.

    On the sliding scale of normal, I lived on the high end up near the top. I was pushed up there by fear and fear stood between the middle ground and me.

    My hyper responses seem normal, unless you compare them to another’s; they seemed natural in their unnaturalness.

    It literally feels like I am being put in harms way to forge into the middle responses, like they are too weak for my security.

    My security calls for over the top measures, I do not trust middle ground.

    Middle ground appears as doing nothing, is standing still, is allowing, is not knowing what your playing with, it seems pointless and weak.

    And perhaps what I call middle ground is the bottom rung called nothing, the very opposite of where I lived.

    It seemed my scales of normal had two responses, hyper screaming or nothing. Middle was nowhere to be found.

    I had to crawl through fear and let go of where I was in order to be introduced to reasonable.

    What is reasonable?

    Balancing on the razor edge of reason feels like a weak position to my hyper vigilant self.

    The space that is needed is what Stephen Covy writes about in his book, The 8th Habit. The space between a life incident and your response. He says that the space is almost non-existent for an abused person; we have no space before we react.

    What he calls space I will call reason. We are left without reason.

    We enter into a life changing moment without reason.

    We can’t be reasonable, for we don’t have reason.

    We can’t find a reason and we don’t’ look for it. We react without reasons.

    This may sound very peculiar to some, but what I felt was that the situation is what drove me up the tree, like a fearful raccoon; little did I know I lived there and beckoned it to come to me.

    I reacted from there. I brought in the high hyper energy, it wasn’t the scene that spewed it forth, it came from me, I elevated the situation as high above middle as I was.

    Instead of meeting the situation, I brought it up the tree with me.

    In order to find reason, I had to lower myself down.

    What an odd view I had of myself lowering my energy, letting go of my fear, and climbing slowly down towards middle and not dropping all the way to nothing, but to sit in a place of reason. To meet the situation where it is.

    Reason. I had to look up the meaning.

    n. The basis or motive for an action, decision, or conviction.

    It is interesting to see that Reason is the basis or motive for how we act or the decisions we make.

    I had reason, I had many reasons and all my reasons were fearful reasons.

    It was reasonable for me to be so high up the scale of normal.

    I read that Fear is False Events Appearing Real.

    If Fear believed in what isn’t real, you would think we would naturally turn to what is real.

    But what if what is real is horrifying?

    What if you have to give up father for a pedophile?
    Then what?

    My lessons letting go of false events was to grab on to much more scarier things.

    Yet I believe this is why most hang on to fantasy, to what isn’t, to build up a wall of fear, a wall of false events, false ideas, a fairyland between them and reality.

    What is so sad, is that you think by not dealing you are keeping the boogie man at bay, and what you are actually doing is creating a cage for you all to be together.

    It was like I lived in the highest tree in the cage, for fear of what lay at my feet.

    It is incredible the wall of fear we build out of false ideals…and we don’t want to drop the pretty curtain to reveal who really lives with us.

    And imagine, we think fear is about something scary, when fear most often is putting pretty masks on scary things.

    Fear is make up, a pretend mask on a bad behavior or person. Fear is making up a fantasy.

    Who knew that fear was creating things that were not real?

    Fear is to a make up story.

    What I had thought, was that fear was about something scary, I failed to understand the application of fear.

    Fear is building a false event or story and the unease I believe is the body knowing the truth that lay beneath.

    The body trembles in the false events appearing real.

    What also occurred to me, we rarely make up scary stories about good things. We make up wonderful, kind and loving stories about scary things.

    Interesting fear is turning bad to good.

    A friend passed on a quote she found on an Art Quilt made by Tina Koyama, “Beyond the four walls of fear is all of life’s energy waiting for me.”

  • Move Accordingly.

    Friendships and relationships are very interesting to me, and me in them.

    I used to put stock in friendships and work really hard to be a good friend, and even take up the slack of the other, and try harder when things became shaky.

    Now I just accept them.

    When the person oversteps or steps upon me without a thought of my feelings, I accept.

    I accept who they are, and I accept myself.

    I accept my feelings.

    My feelings that want to turn away, to put space between us, to let the friendship fade.

    I honor its death or return to social pleasantries.

    The reason we came together is over.

    The lesson is learned, a part of me was returned.

    Most relationships have given back to me a stronger self then I was before I entered.

    In the past, I would spend time and effort to drag an ended relationship along, disrespecting its demise.

    It is my belief, that if we are to remain together, there is nothing we can do to tear us apart; we will be friends for a lifetime, if that is meant to be.

    And if we are not, there is nothing we can do to keep us connected.

    Once the reason is fulfilled, our interests fade, our common ground slips away, and we move on.

    It almost seems that there are people who serve the same purpose for multitudes of folks, that they serve the soul’s lesson in many.

    They give the same part of us back to ourselves, they are angels among us who never change, for we need their exact nature to find our own.

    Their strength is of an unchanging quality that we recognize and honor.

    This wall of unchangeable energy or source of power isn’t within our power to transform; yet we are transformed and changed in its presence.

    Friendships to me are unknown, until they are known.
    The length of time we spend together I can’t know.

    Is it a season, a reason or a lifetime?

    Only my soul knows.

    I listen and move accordingly.