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Family of Origin
Hey, Cedar, or anyone interested in FOO (Family of Origin) issues. Cedar, WHY NOW???
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 662427" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>I do know what you want here, Cedar. I am thinking of your friend with the Ivy League Professor son who adores his Mother who says she and her home were largely out of control. That there is no justice or equity when somebody who gave so much, and did it so right, would not get her Just Deserts as a mother. But to seek to be somebody who others cherish seems such a fragile and dangerous goal. So outside of our reach and our control. The expectation that what we are will in any way influence our value to others, especially our children.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking about the people in concentration camps after Nerfherder's post about her grandmother. To those killers, the worth of their victims was less than nothing. It is difficult to even think about the minutes, the days before their deaths. Were the strongest of them able to hold themselves as precious and worthy and rise above the definitions of their captors?</p><p></p><p>Our children are not our captors, of course. I mean they can be in a spiritual sense but we are trying to strive beyond this. </p><p>Now, this is in your control and attainable I think.</p><p>This too, but I would want to phrase it, I want to be someone worthy of their respect, because you will never be able to ensure that they do the right thing or one hundred percent act towards you with respect.</p><p>Me too. I have been thinking about this too. About the way I must have held myself at work, that allowed disrespect by my colleagues even though I was far and above the most competent and respected of any of them, or of anybody they had ever worked with, I would go so far to say.</p><p>Me too.</p><p>I am sorry, Cedar, for you and for me.</p><p>I would love to tell you more about my dancing. Part of going to the New Big City is because within 20 minutes there are more Tango teachers than anywhere else in the United States.</p><p>No, it had started well before. It started curiously enough while I was in Latin America running around the whole Southern Hemisphere, and jetting back and forth like Jackie Kennedy. My Mother was horrified I chose to do this and cut me off completely, hanging up on me if I called her. </p><p></p><p>It is not hard to believe that there is a relationship between the defiant mobility and confidence I had on the one hand, and the need to take it away in the domestic sphere, on the other. Because until the fear started I had been the most confident and capable of drivers. Totally and completely without fear to drive anywhere under any conditions.</p><p>Yes, I know. I did not achieve that kind of competency, I think, but I came close. I feel a sense of frustration because I can't bring to mind what I want to. </p><p></p><p>What did it feel like? Eyes were on me. I looked lovely in movement. I felt command of my self. A mastery that was cumulative. I felt command in a physical sense that translated into a spiritual sense as soaring and limitless. Undefined by anything other than this gift. And that my development as a dancer potentially was limitless. Even though my body could be limited, my energy and creativity and commitment as a dancer could not and would not be bound. </p><p></p><p>But then it was, because my son accidentally broke my foot. The only time I ever felt anything close to this was when after my mother's death I started to do Art.</p><p>Yes. I think this was my Mother's response, exactly, when I decided to leave the country and leave everything behind me, including her. But I did it anyway. And stopped driving.</p><p>Yes, I see this. </p><p></p><p>How this worked in my family really confuses me still. Because my sister always saw to it that she had more than me of legitimacy, and influence and more of every <em>thing. From the beginning. She set out to conquer. </em>The thing is while it worked, it did not work. Because even though I had nothing and nobody and was humbled and excluded, it never seemed to work for her. It was like OUT DAMNED SPOT and I was still there. Nothing ever seemed to work for my sister where I no longer existed. I just kept coming back. Still humbled, and maybe down and out, but still there. </p><p></p><p>So there is no Cedar role in my family, because I forfeited everything from the beginning. So it ends up: How do you fight and destroy "forfeiting everything?" It is a very hard enemy to fight and destroy.</p><p>Cedar, what and who are you beyond the Cedar role? Because you must be something to yourself beyond this, and I know you to be. Do you know?</p><p>Well, I certainly did as good as I could do. And I sure would be grateful to save myself just about now.</p><p>This is so sad, Cedar. That your mother does not seem to know that she requires saving. She would be so angry I think that anybody felt her predicament to be a sad one. And I really cannot see what the Priest saw in her, because to me she sounds brittle and artificial and mean and shallow (sorry Cedar.) I wonder what the Priest saw and felt in response to her, it must have been deeper than smart, funny, confident, pretty and stylish. </p><p></p><p>Very, very sad story, Cedar. To not know that you may have lost your chance to be redeemed. To have it totally pass you by because you cannot see it. Or cannot value it enough to see it.</p><p></p><p>Many, many years ago (maybe 35 or more) I saw a TV drama about a woman who could not allow herself to be loved. And a wonderful man tries and tries to love her. And she cannot do it. She cannot see it. She keeps seeing him as limited and not herself. And he is perfectly wonderful. The audience sees it. But she cannot accept his love, allow him to love her. The viewer watches this train wreck happen, as if in slow motion, hoping she can do it. And she does not. I remember. It was sad.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 662427, member: 18958"] I do know what you want here, Cedar. I am thinking of your friend with the Ivy League Professor son who adores his Mother who says she and her home were largely out of control. That there is no justice or equity when somebody who gave so much, and did it so right, would not get her Just Deserts as a mother. But to seek to be somebody who others cherish seems such a fragile and dangerous goal. So outside of our reach and our control. The expectation that what we are will in any way influence our value to others, especially our children. I am thinking about the people in concentration camps after Nerfherder's post about her grandmother. To those killers, the worth of their victims was less than nothing. It is difficult to even think about the minutes, the days before their deaths. Were the strongest of them able to hold themselves as precious and worthy and rise above the definitions of their captors? Our children are not our captors, of course. I mean they can be in a spiritual sense but we are trying to strive beyond this. Now, this is in your control and attainable I think. This too, but I would want to phrase it, I want to be someone worthy of their respect, because you will never be able to ensure that they do the right thing or one hundred percent act towards you with respect. Me too. I have been thinking about this too. About the way I must have held myself at work, that allowed disrespect by my colleagues even though I was far and above the most competent and respected of any of them, or of anybody they had ever worked with, I would go so far to say. Me too. I am sorry, Cedar, for you and for me. I would love to tell you more about my dancing. Part of going to the New Big City is because within 20 minutes there are more Tango teachers than anywhere else in the United States. No, it had started well before. It started curiously enough while I was in Latin America running around the whole Southern Hemisphere, and jetting back and forth like Jackie Kennedy. My Mother was horrified I chose to do this and cut me off completely, hanging up on me if I called her. It is not hard to believe that there is a relationship between the defiant mobility and confidence I had on the one hand, and the need to take it away in the domestic sphere, on the other. Because until the fear started I had been the most confident and capable of drivers. Totally and completely without fear to drive anywhere under any conditions. Yes, I know. I did not achieve that kind of competency, I think, but I came close. I feel a sense of frustration because I can't bring to mind what I want to. What did it feel like? Eyes were on me. I looked lovely in movement. I felt command of my self. A mastery that was cumulative. I felt command in a physical sense that translated into a spiritual sense as soaring and limitless. Undefined by anything other than this gift. And that my development as a dancer potentially was limitless. Even though my body could be limited, my energy and creativity and commitment as a dancer could not and would not be bound. But then it was, because my son accidentally broke my foot. The only time I ever felt anything close to this was when after my mother's death I started to do Art. Yes. I think this was my Mother's response, exactly, when I decided to leave the country and leave everything behind me, including her. But I did it anyway. And stopped driving. Yes, I see this. How this worked in my family really confuses me still. Because my sister always saw to it that she had more than me of legitimacy, and influence and more of every [I]thing. From the beginning. She set out to conquer. [/I]The thing is while it worked, it did not work. Because even though I had nothing and nobody and was humbled and excluded, it never seemed to work for her. It was like OUT DAMNED SPOT and I was still there. Nothing ever seemed to work for my sister where I no longer existed. I just kept coming back. Still humbled, and maybe down and out, but still there. So there is no Cedar role in my family, because I forfeited everything from the beginning. So it ends up: How do you fight and destroy "forfeiting everything?" It is a very hard enemy to fight and destroy. Cedar, what and who are you beyond the Cedar role? Because you must be something to yourself beyond this, and I know you to be. Do you know? Well, I certainly did as good as I could do. And I sure would be grateful to save myself just about now. This is so sad, Cedar. That your mother does not seem to know that she requires saving. She would be so angry I think that anybody felt her predicament to be a sad one. And I really cannot see what the Priest saw in her, because to me she sounds brittle and artificial and mean and shallow (sorry Cedar.) I wonder what the Priest saw and felt in response to her, it must have been deeper than smart, funny, confident, pretty and stylish. Very, very sad story, Cedar. To not know that you may have lost your chance to be redeemed. To have it totally pass you by because you cannot see it. Or cannot value it enough to see it. Many, many years ago (maybe 35 or more) I saw a TV drama about a woman who could not allow herself to be loved. And a wonderful man tries and tries to love her. And she cannot do it. She cannot see it. She keeps seeing him as limited and not herself. And he is perfectly wonderful. The audience sees it. But she cannot accept his love, allow him to love her. The viewer watches this train wreck happen, as if in slow motion, hoping she can do it. And she does not. I remember. It was sad. COPA [/QUOTE]
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Hey, Cedar, or anyone interested in FOO (Family of Origin) issues. Cedar, WHY NOW???
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