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Family of Origin
When your past as a child, follows you as a mother, as a person.
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 669989" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Oh, roar. I have to begin preparing for us to leave tomorrow. I cannot respond at length.</p><p></p><p>Copa, I loved that you posted how fortunate Leafy is to love her sister. How fortunate <em>Leafy </em>is, to love.</p><p></p><p>Where is our Feeling Sad?</p><p></p><p>Here is what I know about negative grandiosity: Looking into her infant's eyes, into her toddler's, into her adolescent's eyes or into the eyes of her adult child, the mother reflects for the child his or her grandness, his or her wonderfulness. In her happiness at her child's existence, the mother transmits happiness in his own existence to the child.</p><p></p><p>This, I think, is how D H and M are as they are.</p><p></p><p>They each have been the focus of the mother's eyes, as she loved and was amazed at, the wonder of her child's existence.</p><p></p><p>For mother's who have been hurt, the child, who is her child, who is come of her body and is hers in some way nothing in all the world has been or could ever be, hers...a certain percentage of those reflections of grandiosity consist of a negative, shame filled reality. A negative grandiosity that the child incorporates as easily as every innocent being incorporates from the eyes and the understanding of its mother.</p><p></p><p>And of its society.</p><p></p><p>Racism, or the kinder understanding of say, The Special Olympics.</p><p></p><p>A matter of perspective; a matter of valuing.</p><p></p><p>Add to these ways of thinking the concept that there is generational memory. That generations of trauma or light or love or hate vibrate within us like a kind of intergenerational music.</p><p></p><p>Here in America, where there are so many kinds of intergenerational music, we are creating something, some kind of music, altogether new.</p><p></p><p>That is what I see and hear, in the chaos of what is happening.</p><p></p><p>Think of an orchestra, warming up. Each musician, tuning his instrument to play with intense clarity and thereby, create the whole.</p><p></p><p>So Leafy, there is the imagery you described in an earlier post. Nothing normal about it and yet....</p><p></p><p>Something that resonates, after all.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>roar</p><p></p><p>Now I have to go.</p><p></p><p>I will be back sometime next week or thereabouts.</p><p></p><p>Unless I can find a minute, tonight. You guys are too fascinating.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 669989, member: 17461"] Oh, roar. I have to begin preparing for us to leave tomorrow. I cannot respond at length. Copa, I loved that you posted how fortunate Leafy is to love her sister. How fortunate [I]Leafy [/I]is, to love. Where is our Feeling Sad? Here is what I know about negative grandiosity: Looking into her infant's eyes, into her toddler's, into her adolescent's eyes or into the eyes of her adult child, the mother reflects for the child his or her grandness, his or her wonderfulness. In her happiness at her child's existence, the mother transmits happiness in his own existence to the child. This, I think, is how D H and M are as they are. They each have been the focus of the mother's eyes, as she loved and was amazed at, the wonder of her child's existence. For mother's who have been hurt, the child, who is her child, who is come of her body and is hers in some way nothing in all the world has been or could ever be, hers...a certain percentage of those reflections of grandiosity consist of a negative, shame filled reality. A negative grandiosity that the child incorporates as easily as every innocent being incorporates from the eyes and the understanding of its mother. And of its society. Racism, or the kinder understanding of say, The Special Olympics. A matter of perspective; a matter of valuing. Add to these ways of thinking the concept that there is generational memory. That generations of trauma or light or love or hate vibrate within us like a kind of intergenerational music. Here in America, where there are so many kinds of intergenerational music, we are creating something, some kind of music, altogether new. That is what I see and hear, in the chaos of what is happening. Think of an orchestra, warming up. Each musician, tuning his instrument to play with intense clarity and thereby, create the whole. So Leafy, there is the imagery you described in an earlier post. Nothing normal about it and yet.... Something that resonates, after all. :O) Cedar roar Now I have to go. I will be back sometime next week or thereabouts. Unless I can find a minute, tonight. You guys are too fascinating. [/QUOTE]
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When your past as a child, follows you as a mother, as a person.
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