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In a totally new place and need perspective? Cedar? Anyone?
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 665502" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>The unquestionable belief that we are "fraudulent, foolish, stupid, wrong." That is what I meant. The fiery, certain truth in the contempt in the mother's eyes is what we have to fall back on instead of the good enough mom's belief we are all going to make it through, somehow.</p><p></p><p>The good enough mom doesn't know how, either; she is sure we will be okay. The grandiosity addicted mom <em>knows</em>, knew all along ("Well, I guess you weren't such a good mother after all, were you?") that we were incompetent, that our lives would fall apart; proof that we are after all, non-entities, not worth it, stupid </p><p></p><p>So now we know what we got. And, in learning good enough mom's response, we learn what we should have had, what we needed. </p><p></p><p>Good enough mom: "I don't know why this happened, honey. I know we will come through it. I know everything is going to be okay."</p><p></p><p>Good.</p><p></p><p>Now, we know what to tell ourselves and our own children.</p><p></p><p>At the heart of our confusion regarding what is happening with our kids is the same thing that was always at the heart of our mothering. Of my mothering, anyway. I knew what not to do. I did not know what <em>to</em> do.</p><p></p><p>Now, we sort of do: "I don't know why. But I love you and I know everything will be okay."</p><p></p><p>In addition, we know the flavor (again) of every interaction with our mothers. (To the degree your mothers were like mine.) </p><p></p><p>Contempt.</p><p></p><p>That's a really hard thing for a little kid to learn in her own mother's eyes.</p><p></p><p>How could we ever recover from that, from those things we were taught about ourselves as little babies, as children, as young women, as mothers.</p><p></p><p>As grandmothers: My mother at eighty, drawing back her arm as though to strike her now sixty year old daughter.</p><p></p><p>But here we are.</p><p></p><p>Doing it; coming through it. Seeing the wrongness in what the mother did and refuting the truths of those times, of all times.</p><p></p><p>Here is the difference in that remembrance, this morning. It has to do with D H comment regarding the tire rimming machine. <em>Who appears to be the fool, here?</em> I always thought it was me. It felt like popped back. It felt foolish and wrong and I didn't know what to say or think.</p><p></p><p>Now I know: Emotional flashback. (Thank you, Serenity.) I can name the feel of it. Now I know: Of course I could not know how to handle that occurrence. I was a guest in my mother's house. My granddaughters and my mother and me.</p><p></p><p>What kind of mother changes what that might have been into what it became.</p><p></p><p>Who is the fool, here.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p></p><p>They were waiting for us to fail, were determined we would fall, validating the legitimacy of those truths they taught with such certainty. As it is in every abusive situation, it was all about the abuser's truths and was never anything having to do with us. It was about contempt, and about the choice to hate.</p><p></p><p>And we were just little kids; we believed them.</p><p></p><p>Well. The more I try to clarify, the muddier the water gets.</p><p></p><p>In the reading I did yesterday, I saw the emotional tone of my mom <em>and of my sister.</em> I awakened this morning very sure that the theme is betrayal. Back to betrayal, and then, to self-betrayal, and of learning the taste of that and tracing its genesis and tracking it down.</p><p></p><p>Another level, then.</p><p></p><p>I feel stronger today than yesterday. Yesterday and the day before were hard days, all of it having to do with Christmas memories, and with the vulnerability of love, and with the senses of loss and regret.</p><p></p><p>And rejection.</p><p></p><p>The cruel, pointlessness of it. </p><p></p><p>Psychological homelessness.</p><p></p><p>Emotional homelessness; unanchored. Without emotional moorings.</p><p></p><p>Is that why the imagery of the ship? It's huge; it's beautiful, white and strong and full sailed or sleek and modern, the sound of it deep and true, the sea so beautifully, beautifully blue. The sun! The breeze gentle, and kind; the craft, beautifully balanced, moving well.</p><p></p><p>A dream.</p><p></p><p>The sound of it.</p><p></p><p>The storm yet to come.</p><p></p><p>[MEDIA=youtube]WyEmNlYL6qE[/MEDIA]</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>And this morning, remembering to pray for their peace in the certain belief I will find peace for myself, there.</p><p></p><p>And that worked.</p><p></p><p>I have the Benedictines friended on my Facebook. Each day, there is a prayer. I've been writing them out in the morning, before I come here.</p><p></p><p>That is helping; so much more than you would think, that is helping.</p><p></p><p>I have Eckhart on my FB, too. This morning, his contribution is from pages 116-117 of New Earth. (His second book.) Power of Now is the first.</p><p></p><p><em>In that sense, there is nothing you can do to become free of ego. When that shift happens, which is the shift from thinking to awareness, an intelligence far greater than the ego's cleverness begins to operate in your life. Emotions and even thoughts, become depersonalized through awareness. Their impersonal nature is recognized. There is no longer a self in them. They are just human emotions, human thoughts. Your entire personal history, which is ultimately no more than a story, a bundle of thoughts and emotions, becomes of secondary importance and no longer occupies the forefront of your consciousness. It no longer forms the basis for your sense of identity. You are the light of Presence, the awareness that is prior to and deeper than any thoughts and emotions.</em></p><p></p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>And that's what I know, this morning. The prayer for those we hold anger against informs our thinking. It enables us to wish them well and let go instead of being stuck there in the hurt of betrayal. It makes a separation for us between the hurt of it and ourselves.</p><p></p><p>That is a very good practice.</p><p></p><p>Pray for their peace daily and there, find our own.</p><p></p><p>That is how we learn not to hate them for what they do.</p><p></p><p>That is how we forgive.</p><p></p><p>Pray for their peace daily and there, find our own.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>On the drain tiles. Covered in mud, unsuspected springs bursting up out of nowhere at all, we should be finished with the drain tiles, today. Then, we are going to make a curved path through the yard and install lighting along it. </p><p></p><p>Lots of work, still. </p><p></p><p>We are physically stronger than we were when we began. </p><p></p><p>The apples are ripening.</p><p></p><p>There are so many hummingbirds! We are filling the feeder every day, now. Three cups of liquid. It hangs just outside the room where I am when I am online. As I write, there are three of them, swooping in to feed or hovering in place; there are more ~ too many to count ~ in the trees surrounding the house. </p><p></p><p>Tiny, gleaming bits of birdlife.</p><p></p><p>Well, anyway. That's my morning.</p><p></p><p>Plus coffee.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p> <img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/emoticons/hugs.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":hugs:" title="hugs :hugs:" data-shortname=":hugs:" /></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 665502, member: 17461"] The unquestionable belief that we are "fraudulent, foolish, stupid, wrong." That is what I meant. The fiery, certain truth in the contempt in the mother's eyes is what we have to fall back on instead of the good enough mom's belief we are all going to make it through, somehow. The good enough mom doesn't know how, either; she is sure we will be okay. The grandiosity addicted mom [I]knows[/I], knew all along ("Well, I guess you weren't such a good mother after all, were you?") that we were incompetent, that our lives would fall apart; proof that we are after all, non-entities, not worth it, stupid So now we know what we got. And, in learning good enough mom's response, we learn what we should have had, what we needed. Good enough mom: "I don't know why this happened, honey. I know we will come through it. I know everything is going to be okay." Good. Now, we know what to tell ourselves and our own children. At the heart of our confusion regarding what is happening with our kids is the same thing that was always at the heart of our mothering. Of my mothering, anyway. I knew what not to do. I did not know what [I]to[/I] do. Now, we sort of do: "I don't know why. But I love you and I know everything will be okay." In addition, we know the flavor (again) of every interaction with our mothers. (To the degree your mothers were like mine.) Contempt. That's a really hard thing for a little kid to learn in her own mother's eyes. How could we ever recover from that, from those things we were taught about ourselves as little babies, as children, as young women, as mothers. As grandmothers: My mother at eighty, drawing back her arm as though to strike her now sixty year old daughter. But here we are. Doing it; coming through it. Seeing the wrongness in what the mother did and refuting the truths of those times, of all times. Here is the difference in that remembrance, this morning. It has to do with D H comment regarding the tire rimming machine. [I]Who appears to be the fool, here?[/I] I always thought it was me. It felt like popped back. It felt foolish and wrong and I didn't know what to say or think. Now I know: Emotional flashback. (Thank you, Serenity.) I can name the feel of it. Now I know: Of course I could not know how to handle that occurrence. I was a guest in my mother's house. My granddaughters and my mother and me. What kind of mother changes what that might have been into what it became. Who is the fool, here. *** They were waiting for us to fail, were determined we would fall, validating the legitimacy of those truths they taught with such certainty. As it is in every abusive situation, it was all about the abuser's truths and was never anything having to do with us. It was about contempt, and about the choice to hate. And we were just little kids; we believed them. Well. The more I try to clarify, the muddier the water gets. In the reading I did yesterday, I saw the emotional tone of my mom [I]and of my sister.[/I] I awakened this morning very sure that the theme is betrayal. Back to betrayal, and then, to self-betrayal, and of learning the taste of that and tracing its genesis and tracking it down. Another level, then. I feel stronger today than yesterday. Yesterday and the day before were hard days, all of it having to do with Christmas memories, and with the vulnerability of love, and with the senses of loss and regret. And rejection. The cruel, pointlessness of it. Psychological homelessness. Emotional homelessness; unanchored. Without emotional moorings. Is that why the imagery of the ship? It's huge; it's beautiful, white and strong and full sailed or sleek and modern, the sound of it deep and true, the sea so beautifully, beautifully blue. The sun! The breeze gentle, and kind; the craft, beautifully balanced, moving well. A dream. The sound of it. The storm yet to come. [MEDIA=youtube]WyEmNlYL6qE[/MEDIA] And this morning, remembering to pray for their peace in the certain belief I will find peace for myself, there. And that worked. I have the Benedictines friended on my Facebook. Each day, there is a prayer. I've been writing them out in the morning, before I come here. That is helping; so much more than you would think, that is helping. I have Eckhart on my FB, too. This morning, his contribution is from pages 116-117 of New Earth. (His second book.) Power of Now is the first. [I]In that sense, there is nothing you can do to become free of ego. When that shift happens, which is the shift from thinking to awareness, an intelligence far greater than the ego's cleverness begins to operate in your life. Emotions and even thoughts, become depersonalized through awareness. Their impersonal nature is recognized. There is no longer a self in them. They are just human emotions, human thoughts. Your entire personal history, which is ultimately no more than a story, a bundle of thoughts and emotions, becomes of secondary importance and no longer occupies the forefront of your consciousness. It no longer forms the basis for your sense of identity. You are the light of Presence, the awareness that is prior to and deeper than any thoughts and emotions.[/I] Yes. And that's what I know, this morning. The prayer for those we hold anger against informs our thinking. It enables us to wish them well and let go instead of being stuck there in the hurt of betrayal. It makes a separation for us between the hurt of it and ourselves. That is a very good practice. Pray for their peace daily and there, find our own. That is how we learn not to hate them for what they do. That is how we forgive. Pray for their peace daily and there, find our own. :O) *** On the drain tiles. Covered in mud, unsuspected springs bursting up out of nowhere at all, we should be finished with the drain tiles, today. Then, we are going to make a curved path through the yard and install lighting along it. Lots of work, still. We are physically stronger than we were when we began. The apples are ripening. There are so many hummingbirds! We are filling the feeder every day, now. Three cups of liquid. It hangs just outside the room where I am when I am online. As I write, there are three of them, swooping in to feed or hovering in place; there are more ~ too many to count ~ in the trees surrounding the house. Tiny, gleaming bits of birdlife. Well, anyway. That's my morning. Plus coffee. Cedar :hugs: [/QUOTE]
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