aww ~ 01/25/12
non-subject: pretending
*************
"Aye, aye Captain!" My nine-year old voice exclaims as I stand upon the side-bar on the swing set frame. With my head just slightly higher than the top of the frame, I look out across the pasture behind me, the pasture that is the ocean. I am a princess hero on the pirate ship. I'm not a prissy princess, but strong and brave.
The pirate ship is the old partly-rusted swing set frame that holds the green-painted wooden porch swing.
In front of the swing is the cement covered well, an active well that supplies water to our house. Sometimes the pump doesn't work and we have to call on the neighbors to get water from their spigot; our neighbors have city water. Sometimes Dad adds chlorine to our well water. I know when he's added the purifying germ-killing liquid because I smell the strong, sanitary odor when I run the tap and then drink from the cup.
Rising above the swing is the huge pin oak tree. The tree which provides entry to my bedroom via the tree's branches which access the whitish-gray tiled flat part of our roof, the roof that is outside my upstairs bedroom window. Sometimes when I am trying to go to sleep, I imagine a murderer climbing the tree to gain access to my little sleeping body, but my stuffed animals that surround me provide protection. And I pray to a God that must exist because life is so very full of amazing animals and nature to discover. Surely He'll protect me.
I often wonder why God hates the devil. There must be good in the devil somewhere? I wonder how I learned about the devil? I seldom ever go to church, except on Easter and Christmas. Maybe I heard about the devil at the Methodist camp ground where church meetings are held outside under the big shelter.
Behind the swing lies a small portion of soil where Dad plants a garden. Behind the garden is a fence that surrounds the large pasture which at the moment has become the ocean; the pasture wherein abides the horses that I ride and the creek in which I play when I become the Indian girl making bowls from creek bank clay and painting them with purple juice from polk berries; the fenced-in pasture that contains the woods wherein I later engage my first French kiss at age 11; the pasture from which I later harvest jimson weed pods containing deadly seeds that take me to the netherworld at age 15.
Pretending. The neighborhood world of childhood and adolescence. Mine was rich.
In the 1960s and '70s when we didn't lock the doors and without much parental guidance, I was free to roam. It was good and bad, a mixture of freedom and of neglect without many boundaries. Yet, I always had the boundaries of the walls of my home. There was always food to eat. Mom would leave supper on the stove and in the oven, food she had made that morning for me and my siblings to ingest as we ate at our T.V. trays in the evening.
I walked home from school most all the time, or rode my bike to and from school. That is until high school, when I graduated to riding in my boyfriend's car or driving my car once I got my driver's license. The school bus didn't provide transportation for our neighborhood; we were only two to five miles from the schools, close enough to get there on our own.
I don't pretend much anymore; as an adult I fantasize instead of pretend. I think the last time I pretended was in African drumming class about 8 years ago. A bunch of adults high on drumming, we pretended to be different animals taking turns acting out the animals and drumming our djembes.
Then again, I probably pretended while in The Way; I pretended to believe when sometimes, deep down, I didn't.
*****************
January 25, 2012
January 19, 2012
Who people say I am....
AWW ~ 1/18/12
non-subject: who people say I am
__________________
I have little idea of who people say I am.
I doubt I'm often a subject in others' thoughts. People mostly think about themselves, their problems and relationships and families. I am part of people's problems and relationships and families, so perhaps folks do say I am thus and thus.
What are some descriptions I've read and heard about myself in the past year?
On 'one hand,' I've read some say that I'm...
Psychopathic. Terroristic. Sadistic. Cruel. Incredulous. Crazier than a shithouse rat. Cyber-stalker. Cyber-harrasser. Destroyer. Adulterous. Swinger. Manipulative. Professional victim. Untrustworthy. One who thinks in black & white.
On 'the other hand' I've heard and read that I'm...
Courageous. Good person. Trustworthy. Angel. Godsend. Answer to prayer. Compassionate. Healer. Wonderful. Beautiful. Giver. Energetic. Intelligent. Loved. Strong. Survivor. Hopeful. Inspiration. Writer. Poet. Memorist. Good friend. One who contributes to society.
Hmm, I guess I do have an idea of what others say.
I prefer 'the other hand.'
_________________________________
non-subject: who people say I am
__________________
I have little idea of who people say I am.
I doubt I'm often a subject in others' thoughts. People mostly think about themselves, their problems and relationships and families. I am part of people's problems and relationships and families, so perhaps folks do say I am thus and thus.
What are some descriptions I've read and heard about myself in the past year?
On 'one hand,' I've read some say that I'm...
Psychopathic. Terroristic. Sadistic. Cruel. Incredulous. Crazier than a shithouse rat. Cyber-stalker. Cyber-harrasser. Destroyer. Adulterous. Swinger. Manipulative. Professional victim. Untrustworthy. One who thinks in black & white.
On 'the other hand' I've heard and read that I'm...
Courageous. Good person. Trustworthy. Angel. Godsend. Answer to prayer. Compassionate. Healer. Wonderful. Beautiful. Giver. Energetic. Intelligent. Loved. Strong. Survivor. Hopeful. Inspiration. Writer. Poet. Memorist. Good friend. One who contributes to society.
Hmm, I guess I do have an idea of what others say.
I prefer 'the other hand.'
_________________________________
January 6, 2012
"You Can Close Your Eyes" ~ JT
Magical day and night along the Blue Ridge Parkway yesterday.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains
And the moon awaited its turn
A lullaby whispered from my lungs and lips
And the frigid wind hummed along....
James Taylor - You Can Close Your Eyes
'Twas a beautiful hike upon Rocky Knob Ridge...
As the sun dipped behind the mountains
And the moon awaited its turn
A lullaby whispered from my lungs and lips
And the frigid wind hummed along....
James Taylor - You Can Close Your Eyes
'Twas a beautiful hike upon Rocky Knob Ridge...
 |
| "The sun is surely sinking down...." |
 |
| "But the moon is slowly risin'..." |
 |
| "So this ole' world must still be spinnin' round..." |
 |
| "You can close your eyes; it's alright...." |
January 3, 2012
Appropriate Trust
In Part III of my spiritual journey narrative I state: "I am confused at times in regard to my godly experiences in The Way compared with the abuses and abuse allegations. These present a dichotomy which, at times, is difficult for me to reconcile."
I have previously thought the dichotomy can (at least partly) be explained by life itself; life is filled with yin and yang, black and white, all colors in between. Shit happens. Blessings happen.
I still think that.
Then, it recently finally dawned on me that another plausible explanation for the dichotomy that baffled me since leaving The Way, the dichotomy between the cruelty exacted by top leadership in The Way and my what-seemed-genuinely-caring experiences with those same leaders, that a plausible explanation may be...psychopathy/sociopathy/narcissism/anti-social personality disorder. (Well duh.)
I "knew" this head wise...but not heart wise.
In the past almost year and a half, and especially since this past August and September, I have been baffled beyond belief by the actions and words of my ex-mental health therapist. In trying to understand his behavior and rhetoric and endeavoring mainly to understand my experience with him and how to integrate that into my life's lessons, as my manner is, I began reading more about the above intertwined terms: psychopathy/sociopathy/narcissism/anti-social personality disorder.
I am not a mental health professional; I cannot professionally diagnose. I seldom engage in final pronouncements or judgments on a person's character.
Yet, I can read, examine, think. I can identify anti-social traits and the persona of possible psychopathy. Does that mean the said person is a psychopath or has a diagnosis of anti-social personality disorder? No. Is anti-social personality disorder even a legitimate disorder, even if it is listed in the DSM and ICD? I don't know. But in my experience and observation, the traits are legitimate.
I can't deny what I've seen, experienced, and observed...and what others have experienced with the same individuals. Well, I could deny; but then, at that point, I wouldn't be true to myself.
According to various literature I've been reading and upon my continued examination of my experiences with people who exhibit anti-social traits, their lives are stark dichotomies. They "call black white, and white black." I think I finally have an understanding of that phraseology.
According to various literature I've been reading, psychopaths are unable to change.
Do I really believe that? At this point, no.
I want to believe in humanity. I want to give the benefit of the doubt.
That said, I am on no mission to engage with folks who exhibit anti-social traits nor do I care to change folks who exhibit such. It behooves me (and all of us), to learn about these patterns of behavior.
At the same time, it behooves us to continue to trust and to learn healthy trust. If something about an individual doesn't seem to line up, listen to our inner inklings. Question those inklings. Are they valid? If so (and even if they seem non-valid), do some study. If appropriate, ask questions of others. Utilize the internet for searches. Question what we read on those searches. Keep our ears open. Consider.
It's been almost 1-1/2 years since my ex-therapist's initial harmful actions and words. (Well, looking back there were red flags before then). I feel stronger, much stronger than before I ever even hired him. In a sense, his harmful actions have done me a service. I'm stronger and more educated.
I can trust myself again. In so doing, I can trust others in a more healthy manner than I think I've ever trusted before. That doesn't mean I have "more" trust, but rather appropriate trust.
I have previously thought the dichotomy can (at least partly) be explained by life itself; life is filled with yin and yang, black and white, all colors in between. Shit happens. Blessings happen.
I still think that.
Then, it recently finally dawned on me that another plausible explanation for the dichotomy that baffled me since leaving The Way, the dichotomy between the cruelty exacted by top leadership in The Way and my what-seemed-genuinely-caring experiences with those same leaders, that a plausible explanation may be...psychopathy/sociopathy/narcissism/anti-social personality disorder. (Well duh.)
I "knew" this head wise...but not heart wise.
In the past almost year and a half, and especially since this past August and September, I have been baffled beyond belief by the actions and words of my ex-mental health therapist. In trying to understand his behavior and rhetoric and endeavoring mainly to understand my experience with him and how to integrate that into my life's lessons, as my manner is, I began reading more about the above intertwined terms: psychopathy/sociopathy/narcissism/anti-social personality disorder.
I am not a mental health professional; I cannot professionally diagnose. I seldom engage in final pronouncements or judgments on a person's character.
Yet, I can read, examine, think. I can identify anti-social traits and the persona of possible psychopathy. Does that mean the said person is a psychopath or has a diagnosis of anti-social personality disorder? No. Is anti-social personality disorder even a legitimate disorder, even if it is listed in the DSM and ICD? I don't know. But in my experience and observation, the traits are legitimate.
I can't deny what I've seen, experienced, and observed...and what others have experienced with the same individuals. Well, I could deny; but then, at that point, I wouldn't be true to myself.
According to various literature I've been reading and upon my continued examination of my experiences with people who exhibit anti-social traits, their lives are stark dichotomies. They "call black white, and white black." I think I finally have an understanding of that phraseology.
According to various literature I've been reading, psychopaths are unable to change.
Do I really believe that? At this point, no.
I want to believe in humanity. I want to give the benefit of the doubt.
That said, I am on no mission to engage with folks who exhibit anti-social traits nor do I care to change folks who exhibit such. It behooves me (and all of us), to learn about these patterns of behavior.
At the same time, it behooves us to continue to trust and to learn healthy trust. If something about an individual doesn't seem to line up, listen to our inner inklings. Question those inklings. Are they valid? If so (and even if they seem non-valid), do some study. If appropriate, ask questions of others. Utilize the internet for searches. Question what we read on those searches. Keep our ears open. Consider.
It's been almost 1-1/2 years since my ex-therapist's initial harmful actions and words. (Well, looking back there were red flags before then). I feel stronger, much stronger than before I ever even hired him. In a sense, his harmful actions have done me a service. I'm stronger and more educated.
I can trust myself again. In so doing, I can trust others in a more healthy manner than I think I've ever trusted before. That doesn't mean I have "more" trust, but rather appropriate trust.
January 1, 2012
Progeny of Dreams
Over the holiday during our family gathering, the subject of the Appalachian Trail briefly came up. I mentioned to my daughter the incident she and I experienced over a year ago when we met Ron and Diane, creators of Journey of Dreams.
This morning, for the first time in at least 10 months, I visited Journey of Dreams website. To my delight, I found my daughter in one of the videos. (*big proud mama smile*)
My daughter appears in the last half in the video clip below and on Ron and Diane's Journey of Dreams Webisode 6: NJ/NY.....
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[The following was originally posted here ->Progeny<- in September, 2010.]
Inspired by Ron and Diane ~ originators of 10,000 Miles 10,000 Dreams.
My 22-year old daughter and I took a couple-night backpacking trip in August, 2010, along the Appalachian Trail in New York.
Our route began around 7:00 pm from just south of Perkins Tower which is located on the top of Bear Mountain. We pitched tent after about a mile on an an open area with some rocks overlooking an awesome view of low mountains in the distance and a Hudson River tributary, the light diffusion from NYC visible all through the dark hours.
The next day we proceeded North, trekking through Bear Mountain Trailside Museum, which is a zoo featuring local animals. Yes, the AT goes right through the zoo, white blazes and all.
Upon exiting the zoo, the AT then leads the hiker across the Hudson River on the sidewalk of the Bear Mountain Bridge, traffic whirring by. Eventually, the AT exits 'civilization' and re-enters the woods, an area known as the Hudson Highlands.
By the end of the day we had hiked some eight to nine miles and pitched tent at the soccer field of the Graymoor Monastery. An awesome place which provides a cold shower and running water. Two luxuries for a backpacker. We camped that night with another backpacker, a section hiker who is a New Jersey State Trooper. I joked to my daughter that we were well protected - a state trooper on one side and a statue of Jesus on the other. Ha!
The next day, we headed back to Perkins Tower. It was due to an incident on the return trek that the poem originated.
Along the trail we met two beautiful people, as most AT backpackers are. I do really mean that; I love backpackers and hikers.
These awesome folks are Ron and Diane. They are hiking 2100 miles and then biking 7900 miles. Along the way they are collecting 10,000 dreams, one for each mile, via video recording which they then blog.
This collection will be combined into an art project to inspire people, folks of everyday life, to have hope and to reach for their dreams. What an awesome project!! Here is their website, Journey of Dreams.
When Diane asked me the question, "What is your life's dream?" my mind became paralyzed. Paralyzed because of a recent personal relationship conflict that had affected me at my core self and had left me in much internal distress and self-doubt. Just that morning I had journaled asking myself, "What do I do now? What is my focus?"
Anyhoo, I came up with one of my dreams to share for their project. They recorded my dream and I assume it will eventually appear on their blog in the Dream Interviews. I am the 241st dreamer and my daughter is Number 242.
I stumbled with my answer as the camcorder looked at me.
Then it was my daughter's turn.
And as she spoke, I realized....that my children are my greatest dream fulfilled. They are awesome people, in spite of my (and my wonderful husband's) parenting blunders. I treasure the decades we have been blessed to grow together. And now, my young adult children are my friends, at least as much as one can be *friends* with their kids.
What greater fulfillment could I ask?
Brings to mind a song from my Way days: "Sometimes I forget that I've been given, my life's dream..."
[An added funny. Ron and Diane live in Asheville, just a few hours from me. Ha. Life and serendipity.]
~Thanks to Ron and Diane for the inspiration~
_____________________________
Progeny
Sweaty. Sticky.
Salty beads roll down my torso
Trekking poles aid my sinews
Sinews aged, one-half century
Ascent. Rocks.
I peer ahead
Daughter of my youth has stopped
Stopped to converse with two passers-by
Trudge. Halt.
I stand beside my offspring
Introduced to the travelers
Travelers of 10,000 miles, gathering 10,000 dreams
Unload. Chat.
The four of us
Loosen straps, unclick clips
Clips that hold the packs, packs upon our backs
Serendipity. Resonance.
Sharing details of our lives
Each keenly aware of significance
Significance of this wilderness crossing
Dreams. Boldness.
"What is your life's dream?"
"If you were 10 times bolder,
how would you change the world?"
Corridors. Doubt.
My mind freezes
Searching its corridors, unsure
Unsure of my life's dream
Video. Sound.
Of the 10,000, I am 241
Daughter is number 242
Number 242 recorded on the digital screen
Humbleness. Pride.
I listen as Number 242 responds
And it dawns upon me
It dawns upon me that I behold
Before my eyes and with my ears
My life's dream fulfilled
One of my own 10,000 dreams
One of my own 10,000 tears
10,000 tears of gratitude
august 19, 2010
carolwelch/judithpiper
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This morning, for the first time in at least 10 months, I visited Journey of Dreams website. To my delight, I found my daughter in one of the videos. (*big proud mama smile*)
My daughter appears in the last half in the video clip below and on Ron and Diane's Journey of Dreams Webisode 6: NJ/NY.....
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[The following was originally posted here ->Progeny<- in September, 2010.]
Inspired by Ron and Diane ~ originators of 10,000 Miles 10,000 Dreams.
My 22-year old daughter and I took a couple-night backpacking trip in August, 2010, along the Appalachian Trail in New York.
Our route began around 7:00 pm from just south of Perkins Tower which is located on the top of Bear Mountain. We pitched tent after about a mile on an an open area with some rocks overlooking an awesome view of low mountains in the distance and a Hudson River tributary, the light diffusion from NYC visible all through the dark hours.
The next day we proceeded North, trekking through Bear Mountain Trailside Museum, which is a zoo featuring local animals. Yes, the AT goes right through the zoo, white blazes and all.
Upon exiting the zoo, the AT then leads the hiker across the Hudson River on the sidewalk of the Bear Mountain Bridge, traffic whirring by. Eventually, the AT exits 'civilization' and re-enters the woods, an area known as the Hudson Highlands.
By the end of the day we had hiked some eight to nine miles and pitched tent at the soccer field of the Graymoor Monastery. An awesome place which provides a cold shower and running water. Two luxuries for a backpacker. We camped that night with another backpacker, a section hiker who is a New Jersey State Trooper. I joked to my daughter that we were well protected - a state trooper on one side and a statue of Jesus on the other. Ha!
The next day, we headed back to Perkins Tower. It was due to an incident on the return trek that the poem originated.
Along the trail we met two beautiful people, as most AT backpackers are. I do really mean that; I love backpackers and hikers.
These awesome folks are Ron and Diane. They are hiking 2100 miles and then biking 7900 miles. Along the way they are collecting 10,000 dreams, one for each mile, via video recording which they then blog.
This collection will be combined into an art project to inspire people, folks of everyday life, to have hope and to reach for their dreams. What an awesome project!! Here is their website, Journey of Dreams.
When Diane asked me the question, "What is your life's dream?" my mind became paralyzed. Paralyzed because of a recent personal relationship conflict that had affected me at my core self and had left me in much internal distress and self-doubt. Just that morning I had journaled asking myself, "What do I do now? What is my focus?"
Anyhoo, I came up with one of my dreams to share for their project. They recorded my dream and I assume it will eventually appear on their blog in the Dream Interviews. I am the 241st dreamer and my daughter is Number 242.
I stumbled with my answer as the camcorder looked at me.
Then it was my daughter's turn.
And as she spoke, I realized....that my children are my greatest dream fulfilled. They are awesome people, in spite of my (and my wonderful husband's) parenting blunders. I treasure the decades we have been blessed to grow together. And now, my young adult children are my friends, at least as much as one can be *friends* with their kids.
What greater fulfillment could I ask?
Brings to mind a song from my Way days: "Sometimes I forget that I've been given, my life's dream..."
[An added funny. Ron and Diane live in Asheville, just a few hours from me. Ha. Life and serendipity.]
~Thanks to Ron and Diane for the inspiration~
_____________________________
Progeny
Sweaty. Sticky.
Salty beads roll down my torso
Trekking poles aid my sinews
Sinews aged, one-half century
Ascent. Rocks.
I peer ahead
Daughter of my youth has stopped
Stopped to converse with two passers-by
Trudge. Halt.
I stand beside my offspring
Introduced to the travelers
Travelers of 10,000 miles, gathering 10,000 dreams
Unload. Chat.
The four of us
Loosen straps, unclick clips
Clips that hold the packs, packs upon our backs
Serendipity. Resonance.
Sharing details of our lives
Each keenly aware of significance
Significance of this wilderness crossing
Dreams. Boldness.
"What is your life's dream?"
"If you were 10 times bolder,
how would you change the world?"
Corridors. Doubt.
My mind freezes
Searching its corridors, unsure
Unsure of my life's dream
Video. Sound.
Of the 10,000, I am 241
Daughter is number 242
Number 242 recorded on the digital screen
Humbleness. Pride.
I listen as Number 242 responds
And it dawns upon me
It dawns upon me that I behold
Before my eyes and with my ears
My life's dream fulfilled
One of my own 10,000 dreams
One of my own 10,000 tears
10,000 tears of gratitude
august 19, 2010
carolwelch/judithpiper
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~