Tag: saying

  • In Reverence…

    “You can’t know my world until you are there 

    Nisargadatta

    IMG_4861 

    This is my latest Lady quilt, the final touch I added today, a cross that bears the words,

    "The Old Me" 

    As I look upon this quilt, I am filled with feelings of gratitude and reverence for the life I lived, the shoes I wore; my journey and am also filled with pure potential of what is yet to be.

    I find such peace with this image, honoring my pathway to be who I am today.

    I thought of this post which was first posted in September 2010….as I read Step Six. 

     

     

     

  • I Let Myself Go

    In "Codependent No More," by Melody Beatte, she writes about boundaries.

    ""Set boundaries, but make sure they're our boundaries. The things we are sick of, can't stand, and make threats about, may be clues to some boundaries that we need set. They may also be clues to changes we need to make within ourselves. Mean what we say and say what we mean. People get angry at us for setting boundaries; They CAN'T use us anymore. They may try to help us feel guilty so we will remove our boundary and return to the old system of letting them use or abuse us. Don't feel guilty and don't back down. We can stick to our boundaries and enforce them. Be consistent. We will probably be tested more than once on every boundary we set. People do that to see if we are serious, especially if we haven't meant what we said in the past. As Codependents we have made very empty threats. We lose our credibility then wonder why people don't take us serious. Tell people what our boundaries are once, quietly, in peace. What our level of tolerance, so the pendulum doesn't swing too far to either extreme." Melody

    When we take our boundaries serious, others will as well.  And if you have never said no, no will seem shocking and unloving toward them, for in the past they could depend on your yes or that you would back up and lower your boundary.

    Lowering boundaries, lowers your sense of self. You are pushing your self into being someone you soon will not even recognize.

    Another thing Melody said was,

    "Most of us don't have boundaries. Boundaries are limits that say: "This is how far I shall go. This is what I will or won't do for you. This is what I won't tolerate from you." 

    "Most of us begin relationships with boundaries. We had certain expectations and we entertained certain ideas about what we would or wouldn't' tolerate from those people. Alcoholism and other compulsive disorders laugh in the face of limits. The disease not only push on our boundaries, they boldly step across them. Each time the disease pushes or steps across our limits we give in. We move our boundaries back, giving our disease more room to work. As the disease pushes more, we give more until we are tolerating and doing things we said we would never do. Later, this process of "increased tolerance" of inappropriate behaviors may reverse. We may become totally intolerant of even the most human behaviors. In the beginning we make excuses for the person's inappropriate behavior; toward the end, there is no excuse."

    "Not only do many of us begin tolerating abnormal unhealthy and inappropriate behaviors, we take it one step further; we convince ourselves these behaviors are normal and what we deserve We may become so familiar with verbal abuse and disrespectful treatment that we don't even recognize when these things are happening. But deep inside, an important part of us knows. Our selves know and will tell us if we will listen." MB

    "…compulsive disorders laugh in the face of limits. The disease not only push on our boundaries, they boldly step across them. Each time the disease pushes or steps across our limits we give in. We move our boundaries back, giving our disease more room to work…"

    Who truly knew that our lack of pushing back when they push us is the exact key or in fact makes More room for the abuse to be.  

    While I didn't know it at the time, I can see it plain as day now. 

    It is up to us to set firm boundaries and each time you wobble and get pushed into doing something you don't want to do, you have expanded the area for abuse to play and move and freely be.

    This is the dance of abuse; it pushes and we give up our ground.

    Each time we stay silent, we give up ground.

    Each time we fail to follow through with our threats, "this is the last time…" it wins.

    We are not only playing with abuse; WE are Letting it win.  

    "If you don't stand for something, you will fall for anything."

    Usually, we fall for we love that person, we have a long history, a past and a future we want, so we overlook and blink as they cross another boundary, as we lose ground one more time, as we are pushed back into a place where we are without restraint.

    I guess we do this until…  Until we either go so far back that we lose a sense of life and ourself, or we come bounding back fearlessly taking back our lives.

    And when we do, the pusher of our boundaries are in for a shock…where once we were soft, we are now as hard as a rock.  

    My husband said of me, "You didn't draw your line in the sand, but in cement…"

    I am firm now with boundaries and no amount of guilt on their part will back me up.  I am finally standing up strong…

    What is so hard is that you have to begin however far back you have been pushed, in the low spot of no boundaries…and climb up one step at a time.

    Each time you say what you mean and follow through, you gain a boundary…and with each boundary comes self esteem, or a sense of knowing and loving of self.

    I would cheer me on as they would holler and rail against me.  And I knew, they were testing my waters, to see if I was serious…it was even shocking to me to see just how serious I was.

    I began so far back that I was almost gone, and it was a struggle to undo all the years of relationships without borders, where I flowed into their worlds losing me. I reversed the cycle…I came alive in places where in the past I let myself go.

     

     

     

  • Who is saying the words.

    Somehow we all expect people to think, act and feel like us, when in fact we are all on our own separate journey.

    I personally chose not to engage in a conversation on my blog with people who are not willing to let me see their face.

    How many of you would want to discuss your lives with a ‘known’ stranger?  Not a stranger, but someone who knows you but wants to be treated like a stranger. 

    It seems to me that like the klu klux klan you can say things you would normally not say without your sheet.

    The anonymity of you, feels abusive to me, for I am at a disadvantage…you know things about me, that I would know about you, if your revealed yourself to me.

    It is like having ghostwriters.

    I am even finding it odd that not only does the opposition have no names, but so do the supporters.  I personally would love to know who understands and comprehends my journey.

    And the only conclusion I can come up with for hiding is fear.

    Otherwise why hide?  I know one person said that being anonymous prevents being rejected.

    And that is a concept to consider.  Rejection.  Having your own opinion may lead to rejection?  Rejection by whom?

    I even feel that perhaps I would reject some comments if I knew the source, for each time we hear a bit of gossip, we always first consider the source.

    Just because it sounds good, you have to see whose mouth it is coming from.  Words sound different depending upon who is saying them.

    Each of us has relationships and our past experiences with a person will color how the words land upon our ears.  We either know from the past how empty and hollow they are or how solid and firm and trusting.

    While many think it makes no difference that words are words and it matters not who speaks them, trust me it matters.

    Hearing “I love you” from someone who has neglected you and has lived a self absorbed life, falls flat to the floor after ricocheting around inside your heart, looking for warm fuzzy feelings.  And an “I love you” that comes from a mutually loving and trusting relationship snuggles easily inside.

    It matters to me, who is saying the words.

     

  • Die in peace.

    A horrifying thought flittered across my mind, “ I need to write a letter to my father,” and it is like a thorn that won’t leave me alone, a bug, a thought I can’t swipe away, or flick back to where it came.

    It arrived like an unwanted guest and refuses to leave until I entertain the idea.

    I am not sure I will send the letter or if I can write it, but it seems that just as I silently left my mother, I also stopped cold any interactions with my father on December 4, 2004.

    My letter to my mother had to inspire this thought.

    My body trembled in terror back then and I haven’t addressed this man in any way, other than honoring the feelings of wanting to remain far far away.

    I haven’t explored in writing the dynamics between him and I, instead letting the words abuse and rape gloss over and suffice.

    Just not sitting down in the middle of what that feels like to a little girl.

    What will I say?
    What needs to be said?
    What thread needs to be followed through to its completion?

    What is odd to me, is that I have never once thought of writing a letter to him, yet in the past I had a few letters started to my mother, but never ever have I begun one to him or even considered one, until today.

    And I even thought to the point of sending it and finding the address to my sister’s house where he lives.

    I am sure this is the natural progression that follows the one I sent my mother, although perhaps this could be one to both of them, the final good-bye, a swan song to my parents.

    Part of me is afraid to write this.
    There is a part of me that is afraid not to write it as well, for a gift may get left there unopened.

    Many years ago I began a letter but it so enraged me I had to
    stop.

    Is there something I feel needs to be said to give me peace?

    I wonder if the swan sings to die in peace?