"I beg you to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a foreign language. Don't search for the answers now, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them, and the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even knowing it, live your way into the answers." Ranier Maria Rilke
She came home from preschool and asked, "Mommy, where did I come from? The mother was prepared; she had rehearsed this facts of life speech over and over. So she began to carefully explain it all, starting with conception, moving on to pregnancy, the birth and so on. When she was finished, the child said, "Oh. 'Cause Tiffany came from Arizona."
We have the questions, but sometimes we can't hear the answers. Not yet. I have been in many different situations where I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, and then, all of a sudden, I know. The proverbial light bulb goes on over my head and I have total clarity. How much stress we could spare ourselves, if we would trust that when we are ready for the answer, it will come.
Susan
Monday, January 31, 2011
Full Circle
"Words -- so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary; how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them." Nathaniel Hawthorne
Since I was a child, I have had such respect for words. Words are powerful. I believe I am about to come full circle. Words were used against me when I was just a tiny girl. Verbal abuse was my mother's weapon of choice. I could share with you some of the things I heard over and over and over, but I think for now I will not. Words were used as weapons to wound me, and now I find that words are a part of my healing, and it is my hope that my words can be used to heal others. Then the circle will be complete, and some good will come out of something so bad.
We need to respect words and choose them carefully, because they have the power to make a person or break a person.
Susan
Since I was a child, I have had such respect for words. Words are powerful. I believe I am about to come full circle. Words were used against me when I was just a tiny girl. Verbal abuse was my mother's weapon of choice. I could share with you some of the things I heard over and over and over, but I think for now I will not. Words were used as weapons to wound me, and now I find that words are a part of my healing, and it is my hope that my words can be used to heal others. Then the circle will be complete, and some good will come out of something so bad.
We need to respect words and choose them carefully, because they have the power to make a person or break a person.
Susan
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Bleeding
"There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." Walter Wellesley Smith
Almost ten months ago I started Hero In Your Soul. It wasn't about me. Not at first anyway. Two other friends had an idea and I started blogging to promote that. They haven't taken their concept anywhere yet, but I am still at it. Looking through the blog archive, I wrote forty-seven posts in April and three in August, with the other months somewhere in between. If I had something to say, I would write.
I hesitated to say I was a writer. Many people fancy themselves the author of the next great American novel. I have had friends say they were going to write the story of their life, and I secretly (snarkily) thought, "I know a lot about your life and trust me, it's not that interesting." But it's likely I didn't want to proclaim myself a writer, because then I would have to write. But I said it and it's out there now, no taking it back. I write. I am a writer.
Recently I have begun to impose some discipline to my writing. Each day I carve out some time to write. I may not publish a post that day, but I will write. Yesterday afternoon I was wondering why I felt spent...physically, emotionally, mentally. It was because I had been writing and it's hard work. For someone who is a somewhat private person to share herself in her writing? Well, that takes even more out of me.
But I am a writer. So I shall write.
Susan
Almost ten months ago I started Hero In Your Soul. It wasn't about me. Not at first anyway. Two other friends had an idea and I started blogging to promote that. They haven't taken their concept anywhere yet, but I am still at it. Looking through the blog archive, I wrote forty-seven posts in April and three in August, with the other months somewhere in between. If I had something to say, I would write.
I hesitated to say I was a writer. Many people fancy themselves the author of the next great American novel. I have had friends say they were going to write the story of their life, and I secretly (snarkily) thought, "I know a lot about your life and trust me, it's not that interesting." But it's likely I didn't want to proclaim myself a writer, because then I would have to write. But I said it and it's out there now, no taking it back. I write. I am a writer.
Recently I have begun to impose some discipline to my writing. Each day I carve out some time to write. I may not publish a post that day, but I will write. Yesterday afternoon I was wondering why I felt spent...physically, emotionally, mentally. It was because I had been writing and it's hard work. For someone who is a somewhat private person to share herself in her writing? Well, that takes even more out of me.
But I am a writer. So I shall write.
Susan
Just One Person
"I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something I can do." Helen Keller
Experts tell us that the difference between an abused child merely surviving or actually thriving can be the presence of just one loving adult. It doesn't even need to be a family member. It could be a teacher. Just one loving adult to show the child he is deserving and worthy of love. I was fortunate, because I had several such grown-ups in my life. I owe them a lot.
I doesn't take a mighty army. One person can make all the difference in the world. As I go through my daily life, I can be preoccupied and I can also be cranky. I know there are times I've blown people off. But I try to make a habit of being nice to everyone I meet, a smile here or a kind word there. It doesn't cost me a thing, and who knows how much it might mean to that other person?
Susan
Experts tell us that the difference between an abused child merely surviving or actually thriving can be the presence of just one loving adult. It doesn't even need to be a family member. It could be a teacher. Just one loving adult to show the child he is deserving and worthy of love. I was fortunate, because I had several such grown-ups in my life. I owe them a lot.
I doesn't take a mighty army. One person can make all the difference in the world. As I go through my daily life, I can be preoccupied and I can also be cranky. I know there are times I've blown people off. But I try to make a habit of being nice to everyone I meet, a smile here or a kind word there. It doesn't cost me a thing, and who knows how much it might mean to that other person?
Susan
Friday, January 28, 2011
Change of Address
"Find out what you're afraid of and go live there." Chuck Palahniuk
I hide. Like many behaviors, it's something I learned to do as a child. My mother was a volatile person, a tantrum throwing bully whose favorite target was me. I spent a lot of time in my room, or at some friend's home when I was a teenager. I avoided her in that way. I also hid emotionally. I learned not to show that she had hurt me, because it only fueled the abuse. After all, a sadist derives enjoyment from inflicting pain. I didn't let her see me cry. I didn't share my experiences or thoughts or feelings or fears with her, because she would use them against me. I became very good at hiding. Too good, in fact. On our computers, we have default settings. My default was hiding.
Did you know if you don't like your settings you can change them to something else? Imagine that! I have reset mine, so that hiding is no longer my default. I have forced myself to do some bold and scary things I would not have done earlier in life. I am putting myself out there and I am speaking my truth. Nothing horrible has happened. In fact, just the opposite has taken place. I have not been punished for coming out of hiding. I have been rewarded. Imagine that.
We all have fears. What is one of yours? I would encourage you to find it and then go live there. If you need a friendly neighbor, well, I'm just next door.
Susan
I hide. Like many behaviors, it's something I learned to do as a child. My mother was a volatile person, a tantrum throwing bully whose favorite target was me. I spent a lot of time in my room, or at some friend's home when I was a teenager. I avoided her in that way. I also hid emotionally. I learned not to show that she had hurt me, because it only fueled the abuse. After all, a sadist derives enjoyment from inflicting pain. I didn't let her see me cry. I didn't share my experiences or thoughts or feelings or fears with her, because she would use them against me. I became very good at hiding. Too good, in fact. On our computers, we have default settings. My default was hiding.
Did you know if you don't like your settings you can change them to something else? Imagine that! I have reset mine, so that hiding is no longer my default. I have forced myself to do some bold and scary things I would not have done earlier in life. I am putting myself out there and I am speaking my truth. Nothing horrible has happened. In fact, just the opposite has taken place. I have not been punished for coming out of hiding. I have been rewarded. Imagine that.
We all have fears. What is one of yours? I would encourage you to find it and then go live there. If you need a friendly neighbor, well, I'm just next door.
Susan
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Loudmouth Birdie
Did you come here looking for Loudmouth Birdie? She lives just around the corner at www.loudmouthbirdie.com
For those of you who don't know Loudmouth Birdie, she is my friend/roommate/honorary sister. Her blog is great! Check it out.
Susan
For those of you who don't know Loudmouth Birdie, she is my friend/roommate/honorary sister. Her blog is great! Check it out.
Susan
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Sanctuary
The year I was in fourth grade was a very tough one for me. I don't know what was happening in my mother's life during that year, but her cruel treatment of me seemed to peak.
My teacher that year was a young woman who was extraordinarily kind. She impacted me in such a positive way that more than forty years later I looked her up, found her address and sent her a letter telling her what she had meant to me. We reconnected, and the next time I visited my hometown, she and I had lunch together.
I was not the only one who was having a rough time in that 1967-68 school year. None of us children knew it, but our teacher was hurting, too. Her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer before school started that year. She was with us during the day, but spent as much time as possible in the evenings and on weekends with her mother. Her mom passed away that same school year, in the spring. She told me that in that classroom, we kids were precious to her because she could forget the pain of knowing her mother was dying and concentrate on us.
My abuse was not physical, so from the outside I didn't betray the pain I went through. She knew nothing of my nightmare and I knew nothing of hers, yet we found sanctuary together. It made me feel so good that someone who had helped me was also helped by me.
Who are those who have shown you love and kindness, just when you needed it most? And have you ever let them know just what that meant to you?
Susan
My teacher that year was a young woman who was extraordinarily kind. She impacted me in such a positive way that more than forty years later I looked her up, found her address and sent her a letter telling her what she had meant to me. We reconnected, and the next time I visited my hometown, she and I had lunch together.
I was not the only one who was having a rough time in that 1967-68 school year. None of us children knew it, but our teacher was hurting, too. Her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer before school started that year. She was with us during the day, but spent as much time as possible in the evenings and on weekends with her mother. Her mom passed away that same school year, in the spring. She told me that in that classroom, we kids were precious to her because she could forget the pain of knowing her mother was dying and concentrate on us.
My abuse was not physical, so from the outside I didn't betray the pain I went through. She knew nothing of my nightmare and I knew nothing of hers, yet we found sanctuary together. It made me feel so good that someone who had helped me was also helped by me.
Who are those who have shown you love and kindness, just when you needed it most? And have you ever let them know just what that meant to you?
Susan
Easy as 1, 2, 3
"And if a man prevail against one, two shall withstand him: a threefold cord is not easily broken." Ecclesiastes 4:12 (Douay-Rheims Bible)
I am most comfortable in the role of cheerleader and encourager. Avoiding the spotlight, working behind the scenes, helping others be all that they can be; that has always been me. For years, I worked as a secretary, helping and supporting the executive. When I was involved in church work, it was in a group that did not allow women to have leading roles. At the time, I was good with that. When I married, I put all my energy and effort toward being a "helpmeet" to my husband and the best mother I could be to my sons. When my younger son was 19, he wrote in my Mother's Day card, "Thanks for supporting me in everything I do. Thanks for always being there for me." It was totally my pleasure. And it was right and good to be that for my husband, for my kids.
Now it is my turn. I no longer can hide behind other people. I'm not known just as someone's secretary, someone's wife, someone's mother. The spotlight is on me. And to be honest, I shrink from it. It used to be that I was afraid of failing. Now I am almost afraid of succeeding.
It's my sons' turn to encourage and cheer me on. And that they do. I have a wonderful group of supportive friends and extended family. And my two roommates and me? I refer to us as the Three Musketeers..."all for one, one for all." They, too, are at a point in their lives where it's their turn to shine. These two women enbolden me and make me feel brave. I hope I can do the same for them. Alone I suppose I could do it. One other person would make me stronger. But three of us? Look out, World! Here I come.
Susan
I am most comfortable in the role of cheerleader and encourager. Avoiding the spotlight, working behind the scenes, helping others be all that they can be; that has always been me. For years, I worked as a secretary, helping and supporting the executive. When I was involved in church work, it was in a group that did not allow women to have leading roles. At the time, I was good with that. When I married, I put all my energy and effort toward being a "helpmeet" to my husband and the best mother I could be to my sons. When my younger son was 19, he wrote in my Mother's Day card, "Thanks for supporting me in everything I do. Thanks for always being there for me." It was totally my pleasure. And it was right and good to be that for my husband, for my kids.
Now it is my turn. I no longer can hide behind other people. I'm not known just as someone's secretary, someone's wife, someone's mother. The spotlight is on me. And to be honest, I shrink from it. It used to be that I was afraid of failing. Now I am almost afraid of succeeding.
It's my sons' turn to encourage and cheer me on. And that they do. I have a wonderful group of supportive friends and extended family. And my two roommates and me? I refer to us as the Three Musketeers..."all for one, one for all." They, too, are at a point in their lives where it's their turn to shine. These two women enbolden me and make me feel brave. I hope I can do the same for them. Alone I suppose I could do it. One other person would make me stronger. But three of us? Look out, World! Here I come.
Susan
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The Accidental Angel, Part 2
I share a home with two other remarkable women. They are not just roommates, but dear friends and sisters to me. We call our home "the hacienda." JustJean is one of my roommates, and she is the creator of the tapestry that I named The Accidental Angel. She told me about the tapestry several months ago, and I had only seen it in a photograph. JustJean recently took a trip to her hometown and planned to get the tapestry out of storage, place it in her car's trunk and bring it home. She couldn't find it, but believed that when the time was right, the Angel would be found. Soon after that, JustJean's car was vandalized in the most horrible way one night while she was sleeping. If the tapestry would have been in the trunk, it would have been damaged. The car was repaired, the tapestry found, and brought to the hacienda.
When I saw it for the first time, I was moved to tears. It is beautiful beyond words, and unlike most art, I was able to touch it. I did so reverently. The Angel is, like all beautiful women, more beautiful in person than she was in the photograph. The Cathedral of Notre Dame has the crown of thorns, and our hacienda has the Accidental Angel.
The Angel isn't wispy or winsome or wimpy. She is colorful and powerful and symbolizes all that is best about being a woman. She is at once soft and strong. She reminds me that there is great power even in great pain. And that's no accident.
Susan
When I saw it for the first time, I was moved to tears. It is beautiful beyond words, and unlike most art, I was able to touch it. I did so reverently. The Angel is, like all beautiful women, more beautiful in person than she was in the photograph. The Cathedral of Notre Dame has the crown of thorns, and our hacienda has the Accidental Angel.
The Angel isn't wispy or winsome or wimpy. She is colorful and powerful and symbolizes all that is best about being a woman. She is at once soft and strong. She reminds me that there is great power even in great pain. And that's no accident.
Susan
The Accidental Angel, Part 1
It was during the lowest low of my friend's life that she created a tapestry. She is a very creative person and had always loved to sew. Using a variety of fabrics, texture, beads and buttons, she spent two months on this project. It was something she had to do. At times it seemed to take on a life of its own. She fashioned a meandering river, a playful dolphin, a magnificent ocean.
When she was finished, she hung the tapestry on a wall in her home. Shortly afterwards, she had a visitor. After looking at the tapestry for a moment, the guest asked, "Did you intend to make an angel?" My friend took a second look and saw something she had not seen before. There was a clear image of an angel across the entire tapestry.
No. She had not intended to make an angel. Yet that is exactly what she had done. I wonder, what accidental angel will emerge from our greatest pain?
Susan
When she was finished, she hung the tapestry on a wall in her home. Shortly afterwards, she had a visitor. After looking at the tapestry for a moment, the guest asked, "Did you intend to make an angel?" My friend took a second look and saw something she had not seen before. There was a clear image of an angel across the entire tapestry.
No. She had not intended to make an angel. Yet that is exactly what she had done. I wonder, what accidental angel will emerge from our greatest pain?
Susan
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Naughty or Nice
I just read that a four-year-old boy in Florida called 911 to report that his dad was being bad. The operator was unable to determine what his father's transgression actually was, but the little guy wanted to get a message to Santa right away. A police officer was dispatched to the house, and as it turned out the kid was angry with his dad. I must say the boy's approach was smart and creative. If there was nothing bad going on, then it's a funny and cute story.
Even the best parents have their children upset with them occasionally. When my sons were growing up, to me it just came with the territory that I would need to say no or be the bad guy from time to time. I think you have to be comfortable with the fact that the kid isn't going to be happy with you, and if it's for the right reason, that is all good. Parenting isn't for the weak.
The other side of that coin is that there is actually such a thing as child abuse, a sad reality for many kids. When I was growing up, it wasn't talked about like it is today. It was a secret. Oh, I imagine if it was blatant physical abuse with horrible bruises and burns and such, that people would intervene. But many kids suffered in silence, not knowing where to turn, not knowing who to tell, not thinking they would be believed. For some kids, it was so internalized that they didn't even know what was done to them was wrong. It was something they thought they deserved and it was just the way they lived. Today we live in a world of reality television and of many formerly taboo subjects being out in the open. You can bemoan this state of affairs, but when it comes to children thinking yeah I can pick up the phone, well I think that is a good thing.
And I'll bet that dad in Florida will think twice next time he wants to raise his voice.
Susan
Even the best parents have their children upset with them occasionally. When my sons were growing up, to me it just came with the territory that I would need to say no or be the bad guy from time to time. I think you have to be comfortable with the fact that the kid isn't going to be happy with you, and if it's for the right reason, that is all good. Parenting isn't for the weak.
The other side of that coin is that there is actually such a thing as child abuse, a sad reality for many kids. When I was growing up, it wasn't talked about like it is today. It was a secret. Oh, I imagine if it was blatant physical abuse with horrible bruises and burns and such, that people would intervene. But many kids suffered in silence, not knowing where to turn, not knowing who to tell, not thinking they would be believed. For some kids, it was so internalized that they didn't even know what was done to them was wrong. It was something they thought they deserved and it was just the way they lived. Today we live in a world of reality television and of many formerly taboo subjects being out in the open. You can bemoan this state of affairs, but when it comes to children thinking yeah I can pick up the phone, well I think that is a good thing.
And I'll bet that dad in Florida will think twice next time he wants to raise his voice.
Susan
Roots and Wings
The proud aunt had just attended her niece's wedding. Tears filled her eyes when she saw the bride in her wedding gown, because she looked just like her late grandmother. One of the great things about getting older is as we see our own children, nieces and nephews grown with kids of their own, this new generation, we see glimpses of those who are gone. In some cases, it's a strong physical resemblance. But there are other reminders, maybe a flicker of an expression or a turn of a phrase. I have a nephew who has the same first and last name as my late father, who died many years before this wonderful little guy was born. When I address his birthday card to send it across the country, it gives me joy to just write that name once again. It was my dad's name and it is now my nephew's.
My mother and father were unhappily married for many years and frequently at odds. Ours was not the picture perfect family. Far from it. I find it amazing and wonderful as I see the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of these two people flourish and grow. They have decided to live their lives in a different way, to raise their children differently, and it's as if the good in both my mom and dad is now being manifest in these little ones. That something so wonderful would come out of such pain is a beautiful thing.
As we spread our wings, we should always stay connected to our roots.
Susan
My mother and father were unhappily married for many years and frequently at odds. Ours was not the picture perfect family. Far from it. I find it amazing and wonderful as I see the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of these two people flourish and grow. They have decided to live their lives in a different way, to raise their children differently, and it's as if the good in both my mom and dad is now being manifest in these little ones. That something so wonderful would come out of such pain is a beautiful thing.
As we spread our wings, we should always stay connected to our roots.
Susan
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