The Greater Common Factor

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Almost everyday for the past (almost) couple months, I awake and am met with anxiety and dread, "What do I do about this?" "This" being something that, for the moment, will simply remain "this."

I've written a fair amount about part of the "this," a situation that happened almost a couple months ago. But much of that material is not currently public and may never be. Part of the "this" is that I found myself in a(nother) relationship web where false accusations were being thrown around and where, in the end, someone I trusted turned.

One may say, regarding these webs, "Well, Carol you are the common factor." That is true. I have stated the same thing. I am a common factor. I must look at my contribution to the situations.

The other common factor? The similar situations happened with people who were once involved in high-control groups. This has happened to me five(?) times now since leaving The Way. (Slow learner perhaps?) In one sense, The Way was kinder than these five scenarios. That doesn't mean I now endorse The Way.

So do I avoid relationships with ex-cult people? No. My closest friends are folks who were once involved in "cults."

So the common factor may not be the involvement-with-cults factor but may be how people (me included) have processed and continue to process through our experience(s) not only with the involvement-with-cults factor, but with the experiences of life itself.

Plus other people, never in cults, go through this same stuff.

I think the greater common factor is humanity.

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Authentic Writing

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In the memoir workshops that I participate in, we write.

And then we read aloud what we just wrote, if we so choose.

Most participates choose to read, but not all. For me, there is something powerful about committing one's words to another's eyes, another's ears.

I've heard Fred say more than once, "Don't commit to reading before writing."

As I dove into writing last night, I had to center myself. Would what I write offend people in the workshop if I chose to read it? How would it affect the workshop, for I might even mention the workshop in my writing?

I wasn't sure what would come off my keyboard, but I had an inkling in my head. And if my writing took a certain course, it was going to be difficult.

I recall words from another time in another memoir workshop when Fred quoted one of the McCourt brothers, I think it was Frank. Something like, 'Write what shames you. Write what scares you.'

On more than one occasion, Fred has said something like, 'Don't commit to reading (ie: publishing) before writing.'

If only I can keep that at the center of my core. For it is only that way that I can be true to my self.

My self.

I recently made a promise to never again abandon my self to another's silhouette.

And if I find that I have failed;
if I look inside and find a hollowness;
or if I look down and realize that I am trying to mold a certain shoe to my foot that I really don't like or walk a stretch of gravel road that I really don't want to be painfully trudging...
I hope beyond hope that first I can recognize my self from the hollowness, from another's silhouette, from shoes not designed for me, and definitely from the crunching of crushed rocks from a quarry.
I hope I will always be able to distinguish my self from what isn't my self.
And if I find my self being another self, that I can get back to my self.

And when that happens, I won't be the same self.

The hollowness; the shoes; the gravel road; the silhouette - all will have become a part of me.
There is no way around it.
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Abe

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Betrayal. Abandonment.

I don't think I can ever expect that people are able to live up to the promises of never betraying or never abandoning. I understand that a person may tell another they will never betray or abandon that person. I understand that the promise maker has every intention of living up to that promise and that they are sincere and that it is a noble and loving thing to do.

But the reality is, that given certain circumstances, an individual may not be able to live up to their promise.

Abandonment is betrayal, in a sense.

Death would be the ultimate abandonment. The loved one left to live, is left without. The abandonment may not have been intentional; death is typically out of one's own control. Still the one left living is left with an emptiness.

I don't know if a human being can live up to, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

For me, coming to the realization that, ultimately, a human being cannot guarantee that promise, brings with the realization a freedom.

But why?

What is that is liberated? Is it that I know I cannot depend on anyone to fulfill that for me and therefore I am free from living up to the same expectation for another? Hm. Is it that I no longer need to look to others expecting them to fill that need, that in a sense it is an unrealistic expectation?

I thought earlier today that the only one I want to expect to live up to the promise to never abandon or betray me is me. And if at times I find that I have abandoned my self, that I am able to recognize that, acknowledge it, forgive that part of me, and embrace my self again.

I hope that I am finally learning to not betray my self, and to not abandon it to someone else's silhouette.

As I met with Dr. McColloch yesterday, I asked if everyone has such a deep need to not be silenced? It is like air to me. I have a deep need to express, and to express out loud, in a sense. Like on this blog, not hidden in my journal.

We both laughed, because for years, I hid in my journal and Dr. McColloch was my soul audience. I'd go into his office, journal in tow, and I'd read bits and pieces of what I had written that week. He was my first publication, so to speak.

God, I loved my journals. They were my salvation for years. All that suppression that was bottled up came pouring onto paper. But only for my eyes...at least for about eightish years.

Abandon. Etymology. "A" means "at, to." "Bandon" means "power, jurisdiction." Etymologically, the word carries a sense of "put someone under someone else's control."

Wow. Interesting.

Betray. Etymology. From the Latin tradere "hand over," from trans- "across" + dare "to give." Hm. Similar to abandon in the sense of it is handing over, like giving someone else control.

I have two poems about "abandonment." They describe a part of me. A part of me that I named Abe.
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