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I sat on our king size bed. My toe tips rested on the hardwood floor. I was relaying to John about my trip to Stauton. I had gotten back home a few nights earlier.
The trip was a mix of emotions. I was thrilled to embrace Crae again; to laugh and share and simply be. I took notice how she and Peter lived in the moment. Accomplishing was not always necessary; one could just be.
Before folks arrived for the gathering, Crae presented me her Corps ring as gift. On the trip home on the airplane my heart was in my throat. What was I thinking to accept such a gift? I had AWOLed from the Way Corps twice. Tears trickled down my cheeks with gratitude mixed with unworthiness. After the plane landed I called her to let her know I had arrived safely and to tell her I should not have accepted that gift. It represented so much. She too had shed tears, but said that the ring was for me; it represented faithfulness.
At the Stauton gathering, I got to meet Paul and his wife. We had connected on GreasespotCafe, the ex-Way online forum, my first online forum experience. Prior to that I never knew such a venue existed. A whole new world had opened up to me, in more ways than one. Paul was as genuine online as he was in person. I felt engaged with our discussions about psychology and the inner workings of the mind.
And Nina; we finally got to meet face to face. If I were to ever become a lesbian, I'd pick Nina. I had never been so close to a woman in my entire life. In less than a year we had grown as one. Our relationship was via internet and phone. Hours and hours, through her two GSC affairs and my one, through my reunion with Luke and the grieving of the abortion from over 25 years ago, through my continued confusion about The Way.
There was Dawson, Willow's brother. I didn't feel the warmth toward Dawson that I did toward Paul or Crae or Nina. Yet he had been such a help, especially in how I was supposed to relate to Willow. Willow and her husband were State and Region leaders for The Way. My children and Willow's children had been good friends. Leaving The Way made that relationship awkward, to say the least.
Like myself, Rhodey, the GreasespotCafe owner and administrator, had arrived early to the Texas gathering. Rhodey is his screen name; his real name is Duke. I had previously determined to not bring up the interview. It was now November, four months after the interview.
In July, Duke had interviewed me over the phone about my involvement with The Way; it had taken a few hours. He told me he would listen and edit the interview and then get back with me in a couple weeks, before he posted and aired it to the public via the GSC forum. I had been very nervous. I'd only exited The Way 8 months prior to the podcast interview. Yet he was kind and gentle during the interview.
When I didn't hear from him, I asked him about it a couple times via Personal Messenger on the forum. Once sometime in August (I think), and the other around the beginning of October (I think). I wondered if I had done something wrong in the interview, or if for some reason it shouldn't be aired. I thought maybe Duke had PMed me and perhaps there was a technical glitch and I didn't receive the PM.
His first response, in August, was polite and friendly. He said he had some personal stuff come up and that he'd back in touch in a couple weeks.
His second response, in October, was terse and short. One sentence: "I told you I was busy and I'd get back to you when I was ready." Or something like that. There was no greeting nor closing. I'm not sure if he signed his name.
Upon reading it I immediately went into "subservient/obedient follower" mode; it was habit. I must have bothered him with my petty need for an update on the interview. He was under spiritual pressure with running the site; Sara had alluded to that more than once. He must be right; I must be wrong. He was the authority.
I wrote him an apology for not being more considerate of his time. I thanked him for all his work with GSC, providing a support network for folks who left The Way.
I never heard back from Duke, not even after my written apology. I didn't have his phone number to give him a call; he was very private. Even if I had it, I probably wouldn't have called. Now it was November and I still knew nothing about the interview from the beginning of July. Two weeks had turned into four months. It did happen; didn't it? He did interview me? It was kind of like it never happened.
At the time I hadn't mentioned to anyone about the PM exchanges, or lack thereof. I don't think I even told my husband. I felt stupid; like I was a nuisance. Silence seemed the proper response.
I dare not bring it up now, at the bar-b-que. I felt like I was walking on eggshells around Duke. Besides Sara had confided in me that Duke had told her it was the hardest interview he had ever had to edit and review; it triggered too close to home for him. I didn't want to burden him and I couldn't let on what Sara had told me.
As I sat at the kitchen bar in Crae's home, talk went on between Duke and a couple others. Duke told them that The Way was closely monitoring the Stauton gathering via the Greasespot website as updates were posted by Duke and others at the gathering. Greasespotters called the Way spies the Way GB. Ha! Duke said something like there was twenty-four hour round the clock surveillance? It seems he stated that the number of Way GB monitors was around 80 to 100?
Whatever the number, I had thought to myself, "That's crazy. The Way isn't that interested in this gathering."
But I dare not voice my opinion out loud. After all, what did I know. My knowledge as a newbie to ex-Way world was continually flipping back and forth. What was real. What were my thoughts. What were indoctrinated thoughts. What were lies. What was truth. I doubted so much of my own experiences, continually questioning myself.
After the opening supper, folks gathered out on the porch; all except for Dawson's mom. She sat at the dining room table indoors. She was never involved with The Way. Here was Dawson, her son, an ex-Way Corps grad who now was adamantly opposed to The Way. I understood that. Then there was her daughter, Willow and Willow's husband serving as Way Region Leaders, who just as adamantly (or more so) supported The Way. I understood that too.
I joined the porch group. I mainly listened as people shared various experiences. I commented a couple times. The main subject was talk about The Way and its dark side, of course. Mocking statements went around. The atmosphere reminded me somewhat of Way leadership meetings, where we would discuss others and our importance and the impact The Way had on the spiritual and cultural realm. I pushed that feeling aside; it was just me. This was different. It had to be. Most, if not all, the folks had exited The Way over 10 to 20 years ago.
I went inside.
For the next hour or so I sat with Dawson's mom. It was delightful. Our time together was one of the highlights of my weekend. I had met her before when she had visited Willow. She shared with me about her husband and her 5 children. We talked about Willow and her husband and their children. Willow's daughter and my daughter were still pretty good friends, even though my daughter had quit going to fellowships. Willow's daughter was still involved. Dawson's mom and I didn't discuss The Way.
Late Saturday night Crae, myself, Peter, and Nina sat around the fire pit and belly laughed. Oh my god. We shared different incidents from our year in residence together in the Corps. Crae and I had been good friends and had even gone Lightbearers together. The 4 of us were up until the wee morning hours. It was good exercise, that belly laughter.
The next morning some of the folks who had come in for the weekend gathered for a Sunday morning fellowship in Peter and Crae's living room. There were around 15 people. After the worship and teaching part, I didn't talk much. I mainly eavesdropped. I'm not a gossiper but I learn a lot by listening. Again Way faults, manipulations, abuses were being discussed. I understood their anger. I had enjoyed the teachings and worship part that morning, but the after-talk was wearisome for me. Again it felt like a Way leadership meeting.
I went upstairs and laid down and fell asleep. When I awoke, everyone had left.
Now I was back home, in my bedroom. As I relayed the incidents and my mixed feelings to my husband I said, "But their hearts are right."
That was immediately followed by, "That's what I used to say about Way leadership, isn't it?"
But this is different. It had to be.
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