It's Relative

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Recently I was discussing memoir with one of my favorite people, Fred Poole.  I stated how I have avoided writing about my younger years, my formative years, my early childhood years.  I also avoid posting that type memoir on this blog, "toss & ripple," because I think it has little to do with my years in The Way.  I feel a duty (so to speak) to this blog, to post mainly subjects that have to do with cultic experiences, The Way or otherwise.

Fred mentioned about reading something from a book written by someone who survived Jonestown and the author stated that their mother lay beside them; I think that was due to the suicide. The mother either wasn't mentioned, or was mentioned little, in the other parts of the book. Yet, there she was at Jonestown.

A person's mother.  One's father.  An individual's family.  One's experiences in formative years.  What are the far-reaching effects of that? The age-old nurture/nature question.  Regardless of nature or nurture, one cannot deny that one's family of origin affects one's life often times, if not mostly, in profound ways.

Therefore, my family of origin isn't separate from my involvement with my various relationships through the years.  But yet, in a sense, I have viewed my family as separate and rather nebulous really.  I know for me, one reason I ended up in certain harmful relationships was because I was looking to fill a void.  For me that void (or at least part of it) was due to lack of emotional closeness within my family of origin.  That doesn't mean my family was bad, no.  It's just the way life happens.  People do the best we can to navigate, to be, to love, to get needs met.  It simply is what it is.  Is plus is equals life happening.

So, I may begin to include on this blog, "toss & ripple," more of my memoir regarding my formative years.  I have posted some from my teen years, events that I experienced shortly before joining theTranscendental Meditation Organization and then The Way as I was questing for God, searching to find my way "back to the garden," seeking a family bond that was thicker than blood.
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