I M Perfect lady

Tag: understanding

  • 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.  



  • Inner Level of Truth

    While I thought that we all see life from different angles, I had thought it was from the level of our experience, but it may be more from the level of our awareness. 

    David Hawkins writes a neat example of how we see the world.  

    "Imagine a "bum" on a street corner: In an upscale neighborhood stands an old man in tattered clothes, alone and leaning against the corner of an elegant brownstone. Look at him from the perspective of various levels of consciousness, and note the inconsistency in how he appears to different people and viewpoints.

    "From the bottom of the scale, at a level of 20, (Shame), the bum is seen to be dirty, disgusting, and disgraceful.  

    From the level 30 (Guilt) he'd be blamed for his condition: He deserves what he gets; he's probably a lazy welfare cheat.

    At the level 50 (Hopelessness), his plight would appear desperate, a damning piece of evidence to prove that society can't do anything about homelessness.

    At the level 75 (Grief), the old man looks tragic, friendless, and forlorn.

    At a Conscious level of 100 (Fear), we might see the bum as threatening, a social menace; perhaps we should call the police before he commits some crime.

    At 125 (Desire), he represents a frustrating problem – why doesn't somebody do something.

    At 150 (Anger), the old man might look like he could be violent; or, on the other hand, one could be furious that such horrible conditions exist in our country today.

    At 175 (Pride) he could be seen as an embarrassment or as lacking the self-respect to better  himself.

    At 200 (Courage), we might be motivated to wonder if there is a local homeless shelter – all he needs is a job and a place to live.

    At 250 (Neutrality), the bum looks okay, maybe even interesting.  "Live and let Live," we might say – after all, he's not hurting anyone.

    At 310 (Willingness), we might decide to go down and see what we can do to cheer up that fellow on the corner; maybe we'd be motivated to volunteer some time at the local shelter.

    At 350 (Acceptance), the man on the corner appears intriguing; He probably has an interesting story to tell; he's where he is for reasons we may never understand. 

    At 400 (Reason), he's a symptom of the current economic and social malaise, or perhaps a good subject for in-depth psychological study.

    At the higher levels, the old man begins to look not only interesting, but friendly – and then lovable. Perhaps we'd then be able to see that he was, in fact, one who had transcended social limits and gone free a joyful old guy with the wisdom of age in his face and the serenity that comes from indifference to material things.

    At 600 (Peace) he's revealed as our own self in a temporary expression.

    When approached, the bum's response to these different levels of consciousness would vary with them.  With some, he'd feel secure – with others, frightened or dejected.  Some would make him angry, others would delight him; some he'd avoid, others he'd greet with pleasure.   (And so it's said that we meet what we mirror.)

    So much for the manner in which our level of consciousness – that is, the world we encounter as passive observers – decides what we see. It's true that we'll react to things in a fashion predicated by the level that we perceive them from, that is to say, external events may define conditions, but they don't determine the conscious level of human response.  " David Hawkins

    What I failed to take into consideration, along with the truth, is that we all see what we see depending upon our level of awareness.  It isn't so much that the truth has different shades, but that we do.

    We have darker shades of viewing life and you see how you feel or by your level of being.

    I have learned that who I am to others, way depends on how they see themselves…and really their total understanding not only of self, but life and the Universe too.

    I have felt many differing viewpoints of me…and how I was so wrongly perceived. 

    Just as this bum, I am a lady and they bring their own definition of me to me, and it is colored by their own self awareness.  The lower the level, the worse of a person I become.

    This has freed me to be me…and to make choices based on what I felt was the best for my soul.

    What is also interesting, or at least it bears noting.  It seems that the choices that are good for the soul, are not so good for the pride/ego person.  

    My old choices that helped me thrive in the lower levels are now extremely unappetizing to me now.  It is like you lose the taste for old habits…the magnetism loses its attraction to you

    What is also very cool, is that no one but you can change the level of your consciousness, its energy field is derived by your thought patterns and beliefs.  What you believe…is your level of consciousness.  

    David Hawkins writes about making a leap in awareness.

    "On our scale of consciousness, there are two critical points that allow for major advancement.  The first is at 200, the initial level of empowerment; Here, the willingness to stop blaming and accept responsibility for one's own actions, feelings, and beliefs arises – as long as cause and responsibility are projected outside of oneself, one will remain in the powerless mode of victimhood. The second is at the 500 level, which is reached by accepting love and nonjudgmental forgiveness as a lifestyle, excercising unconditional kindnes to all persons, things and events without exception.  (In 12-step recovery groups, it's said that there are no justified resentments -even if somebody "did you wrong." you're still free to choose your response and let resentment go.)  Once one makes this commitment, he begins to experience a different, more benign world as his perceptions evolve."  David

    Beauty indeed is in the eye of the beholder…You simply can't see that which you are not aware of within you…the less of your self you know and undertand, the less of me you understand and know.

    The more I have learned about me, the broader I view the world…the world is seen from our inner level of truth.

  • Not in Harmony

    Within me there is a frustrating dilemma, speaking out in a society that is uncomfortable about suicide or remaining silent.

     

    Silent seems dishonorable or maybe rude to not hear such an inhumane scream of suffering…indifference even.

     

    How is it possible to turn away from such a blatant act of desperation?  Surely we want to learn from this.

     

    Do we dare listen to the message?

     

    What is the message? 

     

    How is it possible to be so out of alternatives, to be so backed into a corner where living is ruled out?

     

    Where there isn’t a sliver of hope left.

     

    What is there to learn? 

    What can she teach us?  

    What are the signs? 

     

    There are papers in two different states reporting this death.  The out-of-State paper writes, “Evidence collected by the patrol indicates that she meant to step into the path of the truck.”  And the local paper writes how wonderful she was, an honor student, caring and wise beyond her years, etc.

     

    The pictures of don’t match. 

     

    What was she trying to tell us in her last breath?

     

    What is the contrast of her life and death here to show us?

     

    Due to the drastic nature of her death it seems her life had to equal it somehow, yet her life doesn’t seem to match.

     

    What lies beneath?

     

    I have heard that suicide is a selfish act, but perhaps this is way wrong.  You wonder if she is using her death to say something, loud, clear and unmistakable.

     

    Where it is impossible to call it an accident or natural cause, where it is putting her whole life out there for the world to see.

     

    What is it that she wants us to see?

     

    How can we learn from her life, to see her pathway and find the signs that were leading her to this end, so that we can put in alternative roads for others?

     

    How can her death be used for another’s life?

     

    While we pay close attention to mysterious deaths of the body and perform autopsies, we don’t look equally into suicides to see the path that leads there.

     

    What put her on this road?

     

    What I know is people who are loved, nurtured and who feel safe on this planet; they don’t kill themselves in order to leave.

     

    While it may be controversy to speak of suicide, I am thinking by not speaking of it we are screaming louder that we don’t want to hear about your suffering.

     

    If perhaps as a society we could talk openly and freely about pain and suffering, if it was okay to talk about not wanting to live, to be open and honest, perhaps we then could stop people who feel that those who suffer too much have to leave, that there is no room here for those who suffer.

     

    How we as adults talk about her death, shows the youth how much we embrace reality and truth, how much we are willing to be with those who suffer.

     

    It just seems to me, how wonderful it would be if she could spare another soul her journey.  And if we can change our consciousness about suicide, her death will not be in vain.

     

    She was here to teach us how to become more deeply aware of the signs of covering up suffering, for her social life and her death are not in harmony.

     

     

  • The territory of God, Reality.

    From David Hawkins’s book “Truth vs Falsehood”

    “The limitations of religion have been analyzed by historians from secular viewpoint and by theologians in their criticisms
    as well as by great philosophers over the centuries. The intrinsic problems arise from the canonization of interpretations of spiritual truth that are the consequence of misunderstanding by the spiritual ego of ecclesiastics. Much is lost in translation of teachings that were not written down until centuries after they were spoken.

    “While the above are well-known limitations (as reflected by consciousness calibration), less attention has been paid to the relationship of the follower to the religion itself. The most obvious error is the worship of the religion instead of God (an error not made by the truly enlightened mystic). While religion provides inspiration, spiritual facts, and important information, it is only linear, time-located body of concepts and not the Reality itself. This results in the commonly observed violation of the essential truth of the religion in the name of religion itself. (e.g. Christian and Islamic Crusades, the Inquisition, putting nonbelievers to death, slaughtering innocent in the name of religion, political piracy of religion by theocratic totalitarianism, and rationalization of nonintegrity in “the name of faith,” etc)”

    “In the manner of speaking, religiosity is a subtle form of idolatry that puts the Church as an institution above God. The current slaughter of the innocent in the name of Allah the All Merciful is the glaring example. A more subtle example is the exaggeration of the external trappings and the ethnic peculiarities of the primitive tribal customs that become the focus instead of the core of spiritual truth. Thus, distortions result in oppression and violation of basic religious premises.”

    “The underlying defect in all the above is the downside of the ego itself, which then utilizes religion to its own ends; pride, control, gain, prestige, wealth, adoration, social image, and narcissistic gain. Religion is the means, not the end; it is the map, not the territory; it is the cover, not the book. Thus hyper religiosity itself, which appears as piety, can and does become an error as exhibited by scrupulosity. The great teachers taught the Truth about Divinity, not religion, which came centuries later. While the veneration of religion and scriptures is understandable it is their truth and God that are meant to be worshipped and sought.”
    David Hawkins

    I found reading this very affirmative, in that my experience of religion wasn’t about the relationship with God, but rather the ‘faith’ in the religion.

    I didn’t know God, until I left the religion, for religion had covered Him up, had danced a variable amount of rules and regulations, of fears and judgments that stood between me and Him.

    I love that religion is the cover, not the book…the map and not the territory.

    I have asked others who have left my old religion what they now have, and many will say, they took the faith. I am not sure what that means, Faith in what?

    When I left my old religion, I didn’t take anything from it, for there wasn’t anything tangible to take I had a belief in the map, but not the territory.

    Now I feel that I am walking around in the territory… Of God, Reality.

  • Act of Forgetting.

    I was greeted at a mailbox yesterday by a bundled up smiling lady, her eyes bright and her cheeks rosy, I handed her her mail, commenting on one letter.

    It was a card from her to someone, and I had brought it back for her.

    She had just put the person’s name, but no address or stamp. I said we didn’t know where her friend lived and that usually we needed a stamp.

    She chuckled with delight at herself, finding her error funny and looked at me shyly.

    I told her we brought it back for her to finish; she smiled and said, “thank you, I am glad you did,” clutching it to her chest.

    I explained to her that we didn’t know her friend or where she lived, but that if she could help us out with a few more hints, we would deliver it….

    I left her standing there, arms full of mail, smiling at herself…”keep warm”, she said as I drove away…”I will, and you too” I hollered back.

    Her energy and spirit rode along with me in my jeep, amidst the boxes and packages, bringing a smile to my face every now and then…picturing her delight when she seen her half written card and her eyes as they met mine.

    A kindred spirit.

    For I recalled my daughter’s comment to me that morning, “Mother you left all the cupboard doors open.”

    I smiled that same smile seeing the evidence of me making a cup of tea, caught in the act of forgetting.