Why the Fuss?

I really do want to know, how and why this insults so many sensibilities?


It seems very beautifully done to me.


The sculptor, Cosimo Cavallarao, a man prone to using food as his medium choice, seems quite sincere in his desire to portray Christ in this work of his, a previous work of Cavallaro featured mozzarella cheese. His choice of milk chocolate considering this season of chocolate eggs seems quite appropriate. A cheesy Jesus? Now that would seem inappropriate to me.

Chicago Station NBC5 has a survey going, it seems as of the time of this posting, 3,590 folks say "My Sweet Lord" is offensive to them, while, 2,366 of us say no.

"This is one of the worst assaults on Christian sensibilities ever," Bill Donohue, head of the Catholic League, said Thursday. "It's not just the ugliness of the portrayal, but the timing - to choose Holy Week is astounding."

Oh really? I was raised in a Christian household, my sensibilities are not insulted. In fact no one I have spoken with seems the least bit insulted.

So why the fuss?

My questions are aimed at the artist himself, I have worked with chocolate in many candy recipes, my questions concern how he did it, the care of the sculpture.

Is the sculpture hollow?

Did he use a mold?

Who was the chocolate supplier? (I myself prefer Godiva or Dove, mmmmmm)

What is the best temperature to work with when creating something of this magnitude in milk chocolate?

Does the gallery itself have to remain at a certain temperature to retard melting?

"Sculptor Cosimo Cavallaro calls his Jesus figure "My Sweet Lord," and said viewers will be invited to lick it and eat it before it's taken down on Easter Sunday." (I do like his use of the exclamation many use, as his title.)

If visitors to the gallery were going to be allowed a taste, how were they going to deal with the germ issue?

Now that the showing has been stopped, is it going to be permanently housed somewhere at the proper temperature?

Is it for sale?

Who was the model?

The germ issue seems to be at the top of my mind at the moment.....I do wonder how it tastes.

Vulnerability

A word that popped into my head yesterday, when I was trying to examine how I was truly feeling, attempting to acknowledge the many emotions filling my heart, and move past them.

Definition: Susceptible to physical or emotional injury.

There are other ways to the define the word vulnerable. But the one that truly defined my state of mind and heart, one that resounded, pealing through me with the accompaniment of inner trembling was the confusion, the insecurity, the sense of exposure I felt from keeping my heart and soul open, knowing the utter necessity of doing so, knowing it is the only way I will heal, the only way I can truly love, the only way to fully live.

This vulnerability arose because, I took a big step this week. The first step of many on my journey to personal independence. But that step sent my emotions fluctuating wildly, teetering precariously. I was faced with a major roadblock. An impediment is in my way, one that is surmountable, but eats away at me. Engendering a jittery impatience. I am anxious to begin, perhaps too anxious, I am tired of waiting. So many years I have spent telling myself I could wait, I could wait until........ the time was right for all......but, there is no right time.......there is only the time when you know you can no longer continue as you are. Unfortunately, it became painfully obvious, that I had not fully prepared for the journey I am about to embark upon. Thus time feels more like an enemy than a friend at the moment.

I knew that I would not turn back, but I also realized that it was going to take much longer than I had hoped, or planned. In that realization, I suffered pangs of sadness and insecurities. This journey I am embarking upon will be full of peril, it will not be an easy journey, it is one that will cause many to suffer along the way, including myself. In trying to deal with that knowledge, I was focusing on the end of the journey, knowing it was a place of healing, of future joys, of future serenity.

But, now, I have had to pull over off the road, and rethink, gather my thoughts, examine the resources available to me, with the realization that I may have to travel away from my original direction before I eventually arrive at my ultimate destination.

When one decides to embark on a journey, there is a destination in mind. To actually get there though, we have to have at least some knowledge of the roads to be traveled. We have to know how to get there. We look at road maps, to determine the best way to get from point A to point B. We may even develop an itinerary, a timeline. We check the weather, the amenities available, even the possible hazards that could hinder our travels. We need to know what to pack in our luggage, the necessities that may ease our way, that will save us unnecessary worries later.

I feel lost because I didn't do that, I set out without truly anticipating or planning past embarkation. When I fully acknowledged the obstruction blocking my way, my mind and heart froze. Then, my mind took off onto a bazillion tangents at once, I was unable to focus on anything but the utter disappointment in myself for not properly planning. I could only see the amount of time it was going to take. Time I felt would be wasted, time I don't want to waste.

I wallowed in those feelings of inadequacy, in those feelings of disappointment and loss for a bit. As I did so though, I realized those feelings were invading all aspects of my life, I quickly lost what self-assurance I felt, I quickly lost faith in myself and others in my life. I knew to continue onward, I had to let those feelings go, I felt them, still do, but they will not determine the course of my journey. I acknowledge their presence, I am mindful of them, I have even voiced them, but they will not become a road block, nor will they become a detour that ends in a dead end. They are just what they are, and I can learn from them, or wallow in them, I prefer to learn.

So, I took a few deep breaths, seeking to calm the inner turmoil, seeking to find focus, seeking ways around the impediments thrown my way, not wanting to turn around and go back the way I have come. I will continue to seek detours. In that seeking, I am feeling a little bit more confident. When I have embarked on road trips in the past, I have rarely ever considered myself lost when I had to take detours, I have always had a sense of the direction my destination lies in, and seem to almost intuitively know which turns to take that eventually get me there.

Sighing.........I will arrive.........it just seems there will be delays along the way.

Dreams? Regrets? Living?

In recent weeks, I have spoken/written with several someones on the subject of the dreams of our youth, and those of middle-age. The sometimes divergent paths our lives have taken. Funny how some days of my life seem to follow a theme, whether planned or not.

Those dreams of youth, often broad sweeping, viewed with a sense of excitement, and of possibilities, unlimited possibilities. Some unmet.

I have met many people who grabbed the opportunity to achieve their youthful dreams, they kept them in sight, as soon as they attained those first feelings of independence they began enthusiastically seeking. Those who grabbed hold of life with both hands, and reached their dreams are often envied by those who did not. Envied by those who ended up changing their paths in midstream, or maybe even at the first juncture along the path.

Many of those who did not follow their youthful dreams, speak of them with regret, but so do the others as well.

Regrets of dreams lost. No matter who I have talked to, they hold some amount of regret over lost dreams. Something happens to us as we reach middle-age. All who have taken part in these 'dreams' conversations with me, whether it is someone who attained their early dreams, or someone who feels as if they have not, all feel some amount of regret. Those of us who let go of our early dreams, often seem sadder, there are feelings of emptiness, of loss, of self-anger, or, some blame their lost dreams on someone else.

Dreams are lost for many reasons, there comes a point when life gives us a wallop. When it is least expected. Something happens, and a dream or dreams are surrendered.

If lucky, another dream, or one similar to it comes to the fore and we strive to reach that one.

In these recent conversations of mine, the words regret, aging, and middle-age came up, as if they were synonymous. As we get closer to, and/or into our 40's, we begin to truly comprehend that time is running out. Our own mortality becomes very real. Many begin to work toward some of the dreams they have carried with them for a lifetime. Others, ignore their old dreams, and seek youth instead, trying to fill the emptiness of that feeling of loss.

Then the 'if onlys' start. If only I had done this one thing differently. If only I had known that was going to happen. If only I had made this choice instead of that one. Regrets. Do we give those dreams up? Look for new ways to achieve them? Develop new dreams? Stagnate in the question of "Why didn't I reach for the brass ring when I had the chance?"

Why not move on? Why not take a clear-eyed look at those past decisions, look at the learning that occurred, not as a loss of dreams, but instead look at what was accomplished, are there really any regrets? Do you really want a do-over?

I have wasted so many moments of my life looking backward, thinking I had missed out on so much of life. I allowed myself to get mired down in the feeling of loss, the feeling of regret, grieving for the things I have never done.

A few times in the past, and again only recently, I have moved away from feeling regret, to accepting that I feel regret, and moving past that feeling, its time to create new dreams. Accepting, that for whatever reasons, I followed a different path. Trying to remember to gaze upon the the things I have done, and celebrate them. A hard task at times, but when truly examined, very possible.

If I only look backward, with that feeling of loss, at the life I dreamed of, instead of the life I led, it becomes easy to live regretfully. Especially since this life, is not the life I envisioned for myself as a youngster. Getting mired in thoughts of 'if only'. Wondering..... what would I have accomplished, where would I have gone, who would the people in my life be if I had followed my youthful dreams, instead of living a completely different life than the one I had planned?

My youthful dreams were not exactly concrete in their formation. I was a very idealistic young woman, a child of my time. I was going to travel our continent, explore every nook and cranny. When that was accomplished, I was then going to travel the rest of our world, see and experience as much of it as I possibly could. Along with all of that travel, I was going to solve some of the world's ills in my own small way. I was going to become a social worker ......the particular area of social services changed frequently in my dreams.......at one point I wanted nothing more than to become a Child Protective Services Caseworker. I was going to change the system from the inside, remake the foster care system into a truly safe place for children. I was (in some vague way, never did figure out exactly how) going to find a way for every unloved child, to know, truly know, what it felt like to be loved, to feel safe, and secure. Or, I was going to work as a high school guidance counselor, not just a career counselor, again helping children, helping them learn to develop and follow their own dreams. Or, I was going to become a therapist, a guide for young women, find a way to instill in them that they did not have to try to fit into the defined societal roles that seemed so preordained. Plus, sometime before I started my career as a savior of children, I was also going to join the Peace Corp. In my dreams, the Corp was going to send me off to some far off deprived third world country, and I was magnanimously and heroically going teach impoverished children to read, or the Peace Corp would train me in basic agricultural techniques (funny how the current life I lead taught me those techniques, totally not planned.....serendipity for later life?), and I would in turn impart that teaching to the small population of a remote village somewhere far off the beaten track of civilization, helping starving villagers learn how to make the best use of their land, to feed themselves. At one point, I remember imagining the very physicality of it, seeing myself digging irrigation ditches, or something similar. Once I had all of that accomplished, then I would return home to the USA, make a home, a home that would be filled with all of those unadoptable older children mired in the foster care system, the ones who are shuttled from home to home. I was going to save one small piece of the world at a time. Pretty big dreams for a young woman, (kinda vainglorious and grandiose also).

Did I do any of that? Nope, nada, not one. That is my first answer anyway.

Instead, very early in life, I made a choice by making a nonchoice. I became caught up in the notion of romance, and of being loved, in dreams of creating a family for myself and my soon-to-be-husband, that was vastly different from the families we had grownup in. At the very young age of 18, I made other choices, I did go to university, I did get my first degree, but I didn't go back for the second one. I kept putting it off, telling myself there would always be time later.

Travel? Didn't happen. Peace Corp? Didn't happen. Saving/adopting children and/or changing the system? Didn't happen. Reaching 29 and beginning to be filled with regrets? It happened. But my life was going in another direction by then, I had one child, and was pregnant with another, dealing with the loss of a loved one, and trying to save the family I had spent 11 years building. I wasn't about to let regrets over lost dreams rule my life, or so I thought.

So, without even being fully aware of it, somewhere in those early years, I lost my dreams, I lost myself, I lost much of my idealism, (or feelings of grandiosity, although I like to look at them as passion to do good),to save the world. During those years, my world became smaller, and smaller. In losing my self, my dreams, I lost the need to make my mark on the world, I never lost the desire, but I lost something much more important, I lost the drive to make my dreams a reality. I thought I was living another dream, not my dream, but a dream. I worked quite hard at that for almost 20 years. The last 7 years, a different story has to be told, I stopped working so hard, my heart has developed cracks that I can't heal living another's dream.

Regrets or Accomplishments? In those years of lost or different dreams, I did create a family, I strove quite hard to create a warm loving home. I did what small things I could to teach my children of the beauty and wonder that is available in our small corner of the world. I also had the chance, to help other lost, needy children, children who were lacking unselfish love from the adults in their lives, they needed more than their own parents were able to provide, so for a few weeks each year, due to the circumstances of my life, I could give some special children a sense of security, stability, and love. I could love them, I could show them structure, routine, play, and exploration when they came to stay with me. As long as I was able to do all of those things for my own children, and the other children in my life that I loved, I was pretty much OK with my life. It wasn't perfect, in fact those few times when I was able to take a breather, and look deeply within myself, I found unhappiness, and discontent living there.

So, I would take on one more activity, one more volunteer position, and I was able to move past/bury the unhappiness. I still sensed a lack within myself, but I was able to ignore it, go on with my life, as long as it was filled with children who seemed to need me.

Today I have a choice, I can grieve for what wasn't, or I can look back on my life, and choose to look at what I did accomplish. Because I did do some good. I loved, gave love to the best of my ability. I can look at my past, and I can wish for all the things I didn't do, or I can look at my past, tell myself it wasn't the greatest, many mistakes were made, but I loved, my heart was not enough to heal the one adult who seemed to need it the most, but there were/are children, who feel fully loved by me, and maybe their feelings of abandonment from their own parents are slightly tempered by the fact that I am here if they need me. It took me several more years to realize it, but I did, sort of, achieve one of my youthful dreams. At 39 I went back to work, in my chosen field. I worked with children, of all ages, from all walks of life, teaching them a very important skill. Was it the same dream? No, but it works for me.

I do still have regrets though, it is really hard not to look at the past, it can't be changed, but we can learn from it.

There are years I do regret, but they are not all of the years of my adult life, I regret more the very recent years, because once I lost all hope, all faith in me, I stopped living in the now, I began always looking off into the distant future, as my "someday time", my someday, when I could realize my dreams. Even those times when I thought I was experiencing each moment, living each moment fully, I wasn't really. I thought I could live a compartmentalized life, and that no one but me would suffer. So wrong, so very wrong. Everyone who touched my life, suffered in one way or another. Some still do.

It is time, to seek new paths, new dreams, but now, not someday.


And, as the man says:

"The past is gone. You can do nothing about it. The future is not yet here so there is no need to worry about it. The only gift of life you have is now. That's why they call this gift of life, our present." ~Ozzie Gontang~

Filler

I have taken a hard look at my home in recent weeks, days, really looking at all of the things that fill it.

I have done this because I have been doing some dejunking, attempting to organize, and discard the unnecessary........an attempt to rid myself of the filler, the stuff, the dust collectors, the things that get picked up, dusted, dusted under, and replaced back in their designated spots.

The things that somehow no longer have meaning to me. They are just there. Most of the time I do not even see them anymore. Junk. I look at it all now, and wonder........did it ever.......have meaning......why did we purchase it, were many of these things that fill my home supposed to add to it? Make it more aesthetically pleasing? Some do, some don't.

With the thought of making a move soon, of packing up the things I will need in a new home, I have eyed everything with an eye for utility, necessity.

These things we accumulate. Most are not necessities in filling our everyday needs. Granted some well chosen objects add beauty to our lives, which is also a necessity in my mind, but there does come a time when they just become filler.

At first glance, when I looked around the main rooms of our home, I noticed only a few things that were chosen by me, because I found them pleasing, because they resonated. Instead they are there because they are an addition to the room, they make it more pleasing to the eye, or add to the ambiance of the room. But, there is truly not much in this house that is me.

Again, I thought, filler, stuff, clutter.

Then, I took a second look, trying to imagine the rooms without those items that are there because I put them there, and I realized something. The rooms would look rather empty. The bookshelves would stand empty.......all the books belong to me. The candid shots of my children would be gone, as I am the one who prefers a candid shot over a posed studio photograph. Even with all of the furniture that would stay, even with the pieces of lace, of Victoriana, that I added to the living room to enhance the four framed needleworks my Grandmother-in-law created, with all of that being left behind, the room would feel like something important, something major was missing. Again, I asked myself why, why, aside from the lack of books, and a few odd and ends would it feel empty to me?

Because, the small things, that give a room a home-like feeling to me, would be gone, or at least the room would be vastly changed. I wondered, in this change, would my children still feel at home when they walked into that particular room? I know it takes very little to remove a person's presence, remove those few items that are of their personality, and the home is changed. I have seen it time and time again after the death of a loved one, as the years pass, more and more traces of them disappear, until one day you realize, there is nothing there anymore. There is nothing there that spoke of them having been a part of that home. Granted I have been in a few homes, where nothing was changed, or few things were, but when thinking on it, those homes are rare. It is the personalities of the people who live there that make a home, not the filler, and for many years, to my credit I must admit, it was the warmth of my personality that made this house a home, and the things of me that will be missing, reflect my personality. But, I also know that eventually the rooms will be filled with other things, more things, things that reflect the personality of the sole occupant, and funnily enough, I am OK with that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

After I stopped examining the rooms themselves, I then started going through closets, shelves, and storage chests. Again, wondering. Wondering, why did I keep so much of the past. Pictures, so many photographs, 30 years of photographs, in addition to a large manila envelope full of memorabilia from my own childhood. And then in special bags under my bed, memorabilia of my children's childhoods, dating from even before they were born, since I kept pregnancy journals. I suppose in my need to hold onto memories, I kept too much. I have weeded through them over the years, each time throwing a few things out, but always, always not really getting rid of much, and sliding the bags once more under my king size bed. Also under that bed is my wedding dress, still sealed tightly in it's protective box. At least I have always known why that is still there, my daughter reminds me every few months that she wants to try it on, needs to see if she may someday wish to wear it. It was a shared dress, my sister wore it also, so there is also a niece who has that same desire.

As I went through all of this memorabilia, as I held each item in my hand, I asked myself just two questions. Why did I keep it? And is there a reason to still hold onto it? There were many items that ended up in the junk bag, but also many others that I placed back on the shelf, or chest, or bag, because the answer to the second question came to me.........my children.........they are one of the big reasons why I kept/keep the things I do. There are times, when I will arrive home from work, and find photo albums, photo boxes, drawings, small handmade books, and even my own childhood memories spread out on the floor, with my daughter, and/or son lying there, sifting through it all. They ask questions, questions of the past, questions about the people in the photographs, or the circumstances surrounding a particular item. They want the stories, they want to know the stories of those of us who people their world, and these small seemingly insignificant items, help recreate the stories, help bring details back into focus for the teller of the tale.

So, with a sigh, I kept much more than I had planned on, I pondered how it will all be separated, what will be left behind, what will be taken with me. Those things that tell the stories for my children, and if I am very lucky, for their children, I will do my best to make sure they are saved.

But those other things, they are just things, I don't need them in my life to be content, to be happy. They are just filler, and easily replaced. Memories, people, they are not.

She's In Love

A rapid phone conversation (monologue) with my 17 Year Old after 14 hours in Paris.

"I love Paris! I want to live in a big city! It's so great! You can't get lost here, there's always some amazing landmark on each corner, you remember where you've been. I love this place!
We went to the Louvre today, the Mona Lisa is so small! You have this idea that it is this huge painting, but it is so small! I saw the Venus de Milo, the Winged Victory, so much!"

"Oh and mom, the smoking thing didn't work....... I bummed 2 cigarettes, and then A saw me, she smokes too, we bought some, Teacher saw us, she said no smoking! At least not where I can see you! I hate the coffee here though.......Gawd! It is sooooooooo strong, and I thought we made it strong!"

"And, by the way, bad news mom, I have no camera--- airport, bag, no camera. I took it out at the second Paris airport they shuttled us to, because it was so cool, made of all these tubes. When I got to the hotel, no camera. But people are being really nice, if I say I want a picture of something, they say, "Yeah, I want one of that too," and are taking them for me, they all tell me they will send me pictures. I am saving the disposable for the Eifle Tower tomorrow. We have all day in Paris again, and then take the train to Rome." "I gotta go Mom, I love you, tell Dad I love him, I love Paris!"

*Doing the happy -mother dance*
She called, she is happy, what more could a parent ask for?

Comfort Zones

What is your comfort zone?

"The Comfort Zone is our living, work, and social environments that we have grown accustom too. It determines the type of friends we make or people we associate with. It determines a life style we accept or reject."


Isn't that how many of us lead our lives? We hide within what has become comfortable, easier, we don't have to think about it. Each day ends up being much like the one before, and the one before that. I view it somewhat like living an assembly line of life. Life becomes dictated by routine. Soon everyone within our circle of acquaintanceship is just like us. Life follows a certain pattern, and as long as we, and everyone else follows that pattern, the comfort zone is maintained.

For some us though, we come to a moment of reckoning, an almost palpable comprehension, and we may ask ourselves. Is this my life? This life was not the one I envisioned, is it? What changed, where did my life go?

We become fretful, our soul is suffering pangs, it becomes a nagging discontent, we begin to probe, oh it hurts! We back off, seeking the safety of our comfort zone. But it is too late, our soul has been reawakened.

We begin questioning.

What happened to my dreams? What were my dreams?

Many of us let life lead us, we follow the lines painted on the roadway, never turning off onto that attractive little side road. We notice it, we see the beauty of the tiny two lane road, overhung with the verdant leaves of row upon row of trees, creating an inviting oasis from the flat monotonous pavement of everyday life. But, we have a plan, or someone has a plan, a plan that we are following, a plan that has to be stuck to, a destination we must arrive at.

But, once discontentment sets in, we are knocked out of our comfort zone, though we may try desperately to get back in. After all, it is comfortable, we know what to expect, we already know and are familiar with our destination. It is yesterday, it is today, thus we know tomorrow will be the same. It can be a comfort, that knowing. But where are we arriving to? Is that destination really what we dreamed of?

Dreams?

A safe comfortable life, or finding our dreams again?

If we listen to our reawakened souls, we notice there seem to be pieces missing. Now what? What do we do with our discontentment, the pain? Ignore it, hide from it, slip quietly back into the safety of the comfort zone? Stay safe, but unhappy?

Impossible, because once that discontent settles in, once we notice the holes in our souls, even our comfort zone is no longer truly a safe place. It is inflamed with the memory of what it was like to have dreams. We want to rekindle those dreams, but, somewhere along the way they were lost. The discontent increases, and the comfort zone beckons, with no dream to pull us off the easy path, it can become very seductive to slide back into the comfort zone....safer....easier.

It takes effort to reach a dream, to overcome the complacency of mediocrity. But, once we gain sight of that dream or create a new one, something happens, the old comfort zone is no longer what it was. It is not 'our comfort zone', it may still be someone else's, but we no longer fit there. We become continuously discontent.

To ease that discontentment, we begin to seek the healing of our soul, by searching for our dreams of old. Depending upon the dreams, and how much of those dreams were snuffed out, it can become a battle. A battle within ourselves, and possibly a continued assault from the others that people our comfort zone. Then we may ask ourselves....or, guilt ourselves....do I really want to fight those I love and care about, to achieve my dream?

Questions arise, so many questions. Am I doing right? Am I hurting others by pursuing my dream? Is that important? Is it OK to place my dream above the comfort zone of another? After all, to achieve my dream, I have to discombobulate others. Is it worth it?

All questions that if not really thought out, if we look only at the easy answer, leads us only one way........back into that comfort zone. But, it is no longer comfortable, it is no longer safe, it is no longer easy. We remain discontent, we remain wounded, our soul does not heal, for somewhere along the boundary lines a dream hovers.

To be reached, dreams must be visualized, strongly, clearly, visualized. We have to see them, feel them, imagine them, to reach them. Again, not a straightforward predictable, comfortable life.

I think we have to tell ourselves we are worth it, we are worth our dreams. Once we get to that point, then we can begin visualizing those dreams. They become stronger, luminous, worth fighting for.

I have lost my comfort zone, I am discontent, I am sometimes fretful, sometimes that pain in my soul seems more than I can bear. But, in my discontent, I have begun to remember.....happiness.....true loving.....real feelings.....I am living my way through to a better life, a truer life.



"We would rather stay in our comfort zone and be tortured and unhappy, than walk through the pain and the fire of leaving but finally creating a better life. Fear of pain really holds us back without us realizing we are already living "in" the pain rather than traveling "thru" the pain to a better place. Being ...(in a bad place...)is like standing IN the hot coals instead of running through them. Guess which one burns your feet?" ~courtesy of jac~





"Whatever the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve."

TEARS

Eyes full, aching heart, fighting them back, but they spill over.

Inhale, exhale.

Breathe.

Dabbing at the overflow, the ache grows. Final acceptance of the inevitable.

Grief, loss, a death with no grave to mark it's passing.

No one to hold me, no one to tell me, it will be OK.

Alone in grief, praying for it to pass swiftly, no smiles today, just miles and miles of grief.

Inhale, exhale.

Breathe.

Grey skies and crows cawing. An ache for the gentle peace of a dove cooing. Eyes full and overflowing, grieving.

Sunny Words--17

Come play with me!

I write and you think:

• Powerful::

• Immersed::

• Amenities::

• Slake::

• Endowed::

• Advances::

• Hindrance::

• Limpid:

• Tigress::

• Burning::

Emotional Detachment

Watercolor by Carol Carter



Emotional Detachment: "The person, while physically present, moves elsewhere in the mind, and in a sense is "not entirely present", making them sometimes be seen as preoccupied or distracted. In other cases, the person may seem fully present but operate merely intellectually when emotional connection would be appropriate."

There have been times in my life, when I have experienced Emotional Detachment, it becomes a form of emotional anesthesia, a stepping away from myself and others in my life that I felt were causing me or going to cause me pain. A fear/flight response.

It can be disconcerting at times, knowing I should be experiencing a certain emotion with more depth, should be able to connect on a level that I am just unable to accomplish........A self-protection from being wounded further?

In addition to the detachment, there were also times when I in effect dissociated from a situation, an event or person.

It can be rather frightening to look inward, and find that one is not truly sentient to all that one should be.

In thinking about and studying these amazing phenomena that our brains carry out in the area of self-protection, I learned something. A deduction, if you will, of why I have may have such a hard time holding onto memories.

As a child, I dissociated myself from large chunks of time, needing to, or I chanced the possibility of not emotionally surviving them. (And one thing I know, really know about myself, is that I am a survivor!)

"The dissociation can also lead to lack of attention, and hence to memory problems. . . "

I have used detachment/dissociation in varying degrees through out my lifetime to deal with emotional upheaval, with various traumas, in effect teaching myself to remove myself several steps away from stressful events, situations or people. The positive side to it all, is I seem to react quite well to many stressful events, from the anecdotes others present have related to me, but, I do not remember many details of said event. All leading up to my current problem, my current fear, of losing memories.

There have been so many times in life when I have realized that I have the memories available that I seek. They are there. Stored away in my memory banks (in the dusty attic of my brain as I am fond of calling it), but to retrieve this data, I must not think about it. The knowledge only becomes retrievable if allowed to be unmeditated, it must be almost an unconscious finding, it seems to work best if I am preoccupied with another matter, and when ask a question, amazingly (to me anyway) the correct answer is there. Those same memories, or facts become almost irretrievable if I set out on a diligent urgent search. Often when seeking something specific, I experience great difficulty, knowing I know it, but unable to locate it. I may even exhibit physical symptoms, a bit like vertigo, my mind just does not wish to "go there".

My solution to the memory problem is to try harder, use techniques to utilize more of my brain, and to achieve a healing in my dance through life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

I have a need to find answers, to read others research to find those answers, thus, in my searching, I came across the definition of a healthy kind of Emotional Detachment, one that many seem very capable of, but, some of us have to learn, practice, and live to accomplish.

This favored type of Emotional Detachment is also described as Mental Assertiveness. " . . . a positive and deliberate mental attitude which avoids engaging the emotions of others. It is often applied to relatives and associates of people who are in some way emotionally overly demanding."

When first reading through that description, it doesn't really sound all that loving and wonderful does it?

But wait, read over this list of the positives of Mental Assertiveness:

• Ability to allow people, places, or things the freedom to be themselves.

• Holding back from the need to rescue, save, or fix another person from being sick, dysfunctional, or irrational.

• Giving another person "the space'' to be him or herself.

• Disengaging from an over-enmeshed or dependent relationship with people.

• Willingness to accept that you cannot change or control a person, place, or thing.

• Developing and maintaining of a safe, emotional distance from someone whom you have previously given a lot of power to affect your emotional outlook on life.

• Establishing of emotional boundaries between you and those people you have become overly enmeshed or dependent with in order that all of you might be able to develop your own sense of autonomy and independence.

• Process by which you are free to feel your own feelings when you see another person falter and fail and not be led by guilt to feel responsible for their failure or faltering.

• Ability to maintain an emotional bond of love, concern, and caring without the negative results of rescuing, enabling, fixing, or controlling.

• Placing of all things in life into a healthy, rational perspective and recognizing that there is a need to back away from the uncontrollable and unchangeable realities of life.

• Ability to exercise emotional self-protection and prevention so as not to experience greater emotional devastation from having hung on beyond a reasonable and rational point.

• Ability to let people you love and care for accept personal responsibility for their own actions and to practice tough love and not give in when they come to you to bail them out when their actions lead to failure or trouble for them.

• Ability to allow people to be who they "really are'' rather than who you "want them to be.''

• Ability to avoid being hurt, abused, taken advantage of by people who in the past have been overly dependent or enmeshed with you.

All of that reads pretty good to me, all abilities I aspire to. I look forward to an achievement of complete Mental Assertiveness........and in so doing......maybe, just maybe, I will acquire another ability. The ability to hold onto all the small and not so small moments of my life.

Words that Ring True

LIFE

"The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware." ~Henry Miller~


Doc: Run. Take that girl and start running. Run and don't look back. All your life you been running and looking back and just barely existing and calling it getting by. This time run and don't look back and call it living. Live every second, live it right up to the hilt. Live, Wyat. Live for me. (Doc in Tombstone)

FRIENDSHIP

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." ~Anais Anin~



"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." ~Henri Nouwin~


"Whatever relationships you have attracted in your life at this moment, are precisely the ones you need in your life at this moment. There is hidden meaning behind all events, and this hidden meaning is serving your own evolution" ~Deepak Chopra~

LOVE

"Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, only what you are expecting to give, which is everything." ~Katherine Hepburn~

"Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'" ~Erich Fromm~

JUST BECAUSE

One of my favorite scenes in the movie, Deirdre's son, Augustin, is searching empty kitchen cabinet after cabinet for a tea cup, when he asks his mother where the dishes are, she calmly replies, "Oh they are all out back"

"I'm giving my worldly possessions a moonbath" ~Annette Benning as Deirdre in Running With Scissors~

I was going to write about why these quotes resonate within me, but I don't need to, I know, and those of you that read this blog, you know too. They simply, just, do.

Story Time

"There is human time, and there is wild time."
~Clarissa Pinkola Estés~

There is a time when we must all return to our soul-place, a time to return to ourselves. This I truly believe, thanks in part to Dr. Estés' book, is a way to find inner peace, the way to connect the physical world, with our inner world.

In 1994 I participated in a women's study group, in which the book, Women Who Run With the Wolves, was the focal point of our journey together, which in turn gave me the much needed courage to continue on my healing journey. I put the book away for many years, until one day recently when I was searching my shelves for something, I knew not what, I just knew there was something on my shelves that would help in my now, help me with the new pangs that change is creating in my soul. I ended up pulling two books off the shelf, Iyanla Vanzant's, One Day My Soul Just Opened Up, and Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés', Women Who Run With the Wolves.

In the days and weeks that followed, I found myself revisiting specific chapters in both.

But in my current search, Dr. Estés' literary story, “Sealskin, Soulskin,” resonates the most.
(in my first posting of this story, I infringed on copyrights, Dr. Estes was very kind in granting me permission to re-publish it)

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

SealSkin, SoulSkin

The original story, “Sealskin, Soulskin,” is excerpted here by Dr. Estés, and is uploaded here with kind permission from the author and publishers of Women Who Run With the Wolves, Ballantine/ Random House. All Rights, including electronic, print, performance, theatrical, musical, film, audio, derivative and other rights reserved. Copyright © 1992, 1996 Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés. For permission to reprint or excerpt from her works, ngandelman!@aol.com

“During a Time that once was, is now gone forever, and will come back again soon, there is day after day of white sky, white snow...and all the tiny specks in the distance are people or dogs or bear.

“(There was a man who was so lonely he cried cracks into his face. One evening, hunting in his kayak, he came to a big rock in the sea.)

“...there atop the mighty rock danced a small group of women, naked as the first day they lay upon their mother's bellies. The women were like beings made of moon milk, and their skin shimmered with little silver dots like those on the salmon in springtime, and the women's feet and hands were long and graceful.

“(They were seal-women, who had taken off their pelts and were now dancing on the rock. The hunter leapt to the rock and stole one of the sealskins.)

“Soon, one of the women called in a voice that was the most beautiful ... [and the seal-women began] putting on their sealskins... Except for one. The tallest of them searched high and searched low for her sealskin.... The man felt emboldened...stepped to the rock, appealing to her, "Woman.....be .....my ......wife. I am ....a lonely man."

“(The hunter said, “Be with me for seven years and then you can decide to stay or go.” The seal woman could not find her sealskin and reluctantly agreed. )

“So in time they had a child, whom they named Ooruk. And the child was lithe and fat....

“(But as time went on, the seal woman began to lose color and become weak. When the seven years was up, she wanted her sealskin back and he would not tell her where it was. Their child heard their argument, and that night an old silver seal appeared out in the sea, calling the child's name. As the child was climbing down to the sea, he stumbled across his mother's sealskin.)

“The boy scratched open the bundle and shook it out--it was his mother's sealskin. Oh, and he could smell her all through it... And as he hugged the sealskin to his face and inhaled her scent, her soul slammed through him like a sudden summer wind.

“(The child returned the sealskin to his mother, who put it on. The child feared his mother will leave him. But, she filled her child's lungs with her own breath, and took him beneath the sea with her...)

“And they swam deep and strong till they entered the underwater cove of seals where all manner of creatures were dining and singing, dancing and speaking, and the great silver seal that had called to Ooruk from the night sea embraced the child and called him grandson.

“(But the time came for the child to return to land... and so....)

“On that night, the old grandfather seal and the boy's beautiful mother swam with the child between them. Back they went, back up and up and up to the topside world. There they gently placed Ooruk on the stony shore in the moonlight.

“(His mother assured him she would always be near him and would send her spirit through him for him to learn the songs of life and of healing. The boy grew to be a great singer, drummer, maker of stories...)

“... it was said this all came to be because as a child he had survived being carried out to sea ... Now... sometimes he can still be seen, with his kayak tethered, kneeling upon a certain rock in the sea, seeming to speak to a certain female seal who often comes near the shore. Though many have tried to hunt her, time after time they have failed. She is known as Tanqigcaq, the bright one, the holy one, and it is said that though she be a seal, her eyes are capable of portraying those human looks... those wise and wild and loving looks.”

The End.

Dr. Estés' “Sealskin, Soulskin” story can be read in its totality on pages 255-261 in Women Who Run With the Wolves. Commentary on the meaning of the story for us, carrying the idea that, “We can live on land, but not forever, not without trips to the water and to home...” is on pages 262-296 (trade edition).

Places to Visit

How I spend my lunch hour if I don't leave the office..........



Today is International Woman's Day
A GLOBAL DAY OF CELEBRATIONCelebrated on 8 March, International Women's Day (IWD) is the global day connecting all women around the world and inspiring them to achieve their full potential. IWD celebrates the collective power of women past, present and future ...


Engineers Without Borders USA
(EWB-USA) is a non-profit humanitarian organization established to partner with developing communities worldwide in order to improve their quality of life. This partnership involves the implementation of sustainable engineering projects, while involving and training internationally responsible
engineers and engineering students

http://www.NewsTarget.com/021682.html">Students invent inexpensive water purification system that costs $5

Happiness

~The Dalai Lama~

"The purpose of life is to be happy. . . In order to change conditions outside ourselves, whether they concern the environment or relations with others, we must first change within ourselves. Inner peace is the key. In that state of mind you can face difficulties with calm and reason, while keeping your inner happiness."

Searching, constantly searching for that inner peace, to find inner happiness.

There are days when I feel it, that happiness, this afternoon, I spent some time talking to a person, a wonderful, soul-lightening miracle of a person, someone I love very much. In that time period, I watched the sun go down, I watched fingers of colored light shining through the skeletal winter trees. I admired their beauty, the play of light, shadow and color. I was happy.

Mercurial moods, I hate them, I have them, seemingly on an ever constant basis of late. I know the why, the whys. It is fine to be forever searching within to find answers, to search for peace, serenity, soulfullness (yes that is spelled that way on purpose).

But there are times, when it is time for meditation, time to charge my spirit, time to take that energy and focus it outward, life cannot be changed, improved, if I do not also focus outward. I have changed inwardly, I can feel it, I can see it in my behaviors, but to continue growing, continue the changing, the focus must shift to my outer world. I am not dealing with it, I am still partially in hiding. Hiding from the harsh realities of complete and utter TRUTH.

I do not feel any longer that time is on my side, time is ever moving, never resting, my time for rest, my time for hiding has come to an end. I can wither away, dry up into dust, or I can move out into the night, take my chances in the storms to come, get drenched in the downpour. Hmm, good analogy for me, the one risk I have never feared is storms, give me a severe thunder storm warning, a tornado warning, and I am outside in a flash, reveling in the charge in the atmosphere, delighting in the ever changing sky, the whipping winds. Face to the sky, needing to be filled with that basic elemental rawness of energy, the building of power, danger, anticipation, excitement.

The changes in my life will be a monumental, colossal, changes of such magnitude that nature's worst fury will feel like a soft warm summer rain, but somehow, no matter how tumultuous those changes will be, I know, with no doubt, I will also in the end, find be peace.........be happy

Removal

Well, I did a really thoughtless thing, I posted a copyrighted story without asking permission.
I really did not realize it, the fable is one told in so many variations all over the world, and written in so many variations, I didn't think of it as copyrighted material, but it is/was.

So I removed it, my re-reading it, and typing it out, accomplished what I personally needed to accomplish anyway.

It encouraged me to find my soulskin, find my spirit, get the two of them back together, to keep delving deep, to stay on my healing path.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

My daughter in her brilliance!

Watching me this morning as I posted a few comments on other's blogs.

"I want to spend time, taking photographs of people sitting in front of their computers. The emotions that play across their faces, so very internalized, yet ever changing. They would be amazing photos." (I think she is right, they would be)

This comment then made a disconnected transition to.......

"Mom, how is your money situation?"

"Why?" (thinking, what? She wants to go shopping again? I just took her last weekend!)

"Well.........I was wondering when we're going to move."

I faltered, not expecting that question! In addition, I always wonder, how much do I say, how much do I not say?

"Tell me more, what are you thinking?'

"I know that this is all going to be really hard, really difficult for all of us. But, Mom, it's really worse now. We are a house divided, and isn't it better to just really do the dividing, get it over with?" (as an aside, I have been thinking this for days, with that very same phrase reverberating in my mind.....a house divided, no longer a home, is it not best to just make the final cut? Is this mother-daughter psychic connection? Or just someone who knows me, really knows her mother?)

I pondered the best way to express my thoughts to her, I told her what my instincts are screaming at me to do. I again tried to reiterate how difficult it all could become, how devastatingly sad.

"But, Mom. It already is."

"You're right, it is."

The conversation moved on, speaking of logistics, of how her life will change. How split she may feel.

She has such a healthy take on these things, she has thought all that through too. She thinks she can handle it.

I then mentioned to her, that she has been playing up this division in our home between her father and I, I told her of my fear of it only becoming worse.

This comment shocked her at first, (we parents are supposed to be blind to their teen-age manipulations), she tried to deny, I said nothing, she then accepted that there might be a small possibility of this happening, but that she would try not to let it happen again.

We then spoke of my fear of them learning not to take risks, because of my fears all of these years. She agreed with me, they need to see me, really see me trying to live life in the way I have always dreamed I could. She doesn't think it is too late for them to learn from me. (sighing, wondering, pondering, why did I wait so long? It has been so harmful to them to live watching their parents so unhappy.)

Then as she began to understand, where I am in my thinking at the moment, she brightened, she smiled so hugely, her beautiful room brightening smile, and said something that completely and totally amazed me, something you do not hear from children (no matter their age) when parents divorce.

"I am looking forward to the day, Mom, when you feel really good about yourself, and start dating. I think that will be so exciting!"

Laughing, "That is the least of my worries at the moment, I just want to live, live feeling like I am finally living free."

"Yeah, but it will be so great, just you wait and see!"

Where did this child come from?

Mixed Lot

During my shopping this past December, I visited a local store filled with unique items (I rarely shop, so it is a special treat to visit there when purchasing special gifts), this year I came across some little books by Brian Andreas, filled with his stories and storypeople. I ended up buying four of them, thinking that I would gift them to others. I did give one away, (sigh--bad me, I kept the other three for me and my children)

Brian Andreas on his stories: "Most of you have asked where the stories come from. I don't have an answer for that. All I know it that the stories we love are about ourselves. The stories we tell about our children, the family myths from our grandmothers and grandfathers, even eerie fables that leap at us from the Enquirer in the grocery store, are all stories about ourselves. Our lives are intricate puzzles, filled with remembering and forgetting, all the pieces scattered seemingly at random. Stories are th one guide I've found to be true. They are signs pointing the way across our inner landscape."

Today, during a much needed break, I picked one of them up, to read for a smile. Each of his drawings are quite childlike. And, his commentaries/stories give a smile, or a thought to ponder on.

Some that struck me today from his book entitled Going Somewhere Soon were: (I pilfered the images from the website though...gotta keep it honest here ya'know)

* * * * * *

How old do you have to be to die? he said
& I said I didn't think anybody was ever old enough

& that made sense to him since
he was still new to the world &
remembered how forever had been.


* * * * * *

* * * * *

When I was young

I always wanted to go exploring in a cave

and when I got older I finally did &

it was dark everywhere & there were

strange sounds like your stomach after a

big meal & I couldn't wait to get out.

I figured it out later
that I mainly liked to
go exploring caves in
my mind where I could

be comfortable & not get dirty & cold. If you read

too much National Geographic when you're young

it's hard to adjust to the real world.


* * * * * *

* * * * * *

I watched the pellet leave
the gun. It was like a
big black fly & it
landed on the blackbird's
wing & suddenly there
was
a
single
drop of bright
bright red & voices of the
world seemed
farther away & I
knew I could never
do that again.
the sounds of the
other birds stopped
for a moment as
its song flew out to all corners of the world
& I hoped that someday I would be remembered
that way


* * * * * *

I asked her why
she never told
us about the
Ten Commandments
& she said she
wasn't ever that good with numbers
So she loved
everything as best she could &
I remember thinking who
needs all
those rules
anyway with
a mother like her
around.

* * * * * * * * * * *

As I said, a day when I needed pleasant distraction. All in all it should have been a very good day, I was in top form working with clients and co-workers, in fact I received my 90 Day performance review today, and my supervisor scored me all 5's (with 5 being excellent), this made me feel very pleased. Even tempered with the fact that I feel the "typical" job performance review is skewed....the wrong people doing the evaluating.

Anyway, as I said it was a pretty good day, I had the opportunity to speak with someone very special to me the night before, and those feelings of warmth were still filling me as my morning started.

But, then I received a phone call, I had forgotten that I had promised to have lunch with a friend. (see other blog)

I agreed to be there, and the food was excellent, we visited a new Deli in town, I had Chicken Tortilla Soup and a Caesar Salad. But in light of a recent conversation she and I had shared, I was also a bit leery. The conversation was OK, we both spoke of the problems we were dealing with, commiserating with the other, etc. She even gave me some excellent advice and pointed me in the direction of another friend to discuss the other job I am kinda sorta considering applying for. I do love my current job!

But there were things she said, that made me wonder, who she is, after all these years, I felt as if......as if, I had not really known her. I looked at her with new eyes. Noticed things I had not really taken the time to observe before. I have always known she is a troubled soul, a wounded soul. But, I had not realized how close minded she is, how lost in the trappings of material life. I left that hour with her, with a disordered mind, my thoughts an inchoate jumble.










The rest of the day followed suit, within minutes of returning, I spilled a huge glass of iced tea all over a pile of paperwork, then when refilling the candy bowl I keep out for my coworkers, I dumped the majority of the coconut-filled chocolate kisses all over the floor. My headset was annoying me, so I used the phone handset, twice pulling the entire system off onto the floor when turning to use my computer, disconnecting the callers in the process. A symptom of my garbled thought processes?

One of those afternoons, one of those afternoons when I was uncomfortable in my own skin.

I just need to remember this...............

"Our lives are intricate puzzles, filled with remembering and forgetting, all the pieces scattered seemingly at random. Stories are th one guide I've found to be true. They are signs pointing the way across our inner landscape."