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Family of Origin
Work and Germany; Benedictines and Buddhists: Attitude
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 673068" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>When we let go of reality as we knew it to be, we are lost for a time. Nothing fits, all the rules are changing, our (mine, for sure) emotional responses are too highly keyed, are out of whack, somehow. <em>This makes perfect sense.</em> For all of our lives, we have looked to the abuser for who and how to be. We trusted the abuser. Think of the story about looking for work and believing no one would hire me, of course they would not.</p><p></p><p>We may not even be angry about it until we get the little hurts. The big betrayals are just so outrageous we can see the wrongness. But it's the little cruelties that leave me feeling...bereft is a good word, but I feel more physically sick, nauseous almost but not quite, at the cruelties.</p><p></p><p>We are moving quickly now, Copa.</p><p></p><p>You are fine. This happened to me, too. You will come through.</p><p></p><p>It is part of healing, part of knowing what we refused to know. It was that painful then and it is that painful, now. This is why I left my own process right here in black and white. Those times I post about the feelings being overwhelming <em>and then passing</em>, the necessity of finding the work piece to survive it. </p><p></p><p>You would not have given yourself the feelings if you could not work through them.</p><p></p><p>About the faces in the crowd, Copa?</p><p></p><p><em>When the tiles of that mosaic</em></p><p><em>once composed in blood on stone</em></p><p><em>Fall seamlessly together</em></p><p><em>revealing no face but her own</em></p><p></p><p><em>Then, witch and Child, awakened</em></p><p><em>repossess the cauldron and claim the loom</em></p><p></p><p><em>Reweaving tales first told in ancient blood</em></p><p><em>on stone.</em></p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 673068, member: 17461"] When we let go of reality as we knew it to be, we are lost for a time. Nothing fits, all the rules are changing, our (mine, for sure) emotional responses are too highly keyed, are out of whack, somehow. [I]This makes perfect sense.[/I] For all of our lives, we have looked to the abuser for who and how to be. We trusted the abuser. Think of the story about looking for work and believing no one would hire me, of course they would not. We may not even be angry about it until we get the little hurts. The big betrayals are just so outrageous we can see the wrongness. But it's the little cruelties that leave me feeling...bereft is a good word, but I feel more physically sick, nauseous almost but not quite, at the cruelties. We are moving quickly now, Copa. You are fine. This happened to me, too. You will come through. It is part of healing, part of knowing what we refused to know. It was that painful then and it is that painful, now. This is why I left my own process right here in black and white. Those times I post about the feelings being overwhelming [I]and then passing[/I], the necessity of finding the work piece to survive it. You would not have given yourself the feelings if you could not work through them. About the faces in the crowd, Copa? [I]When the tiles of that mosaic once composed in blood on stone Fall seamlessly together revealing no face but her own[/I] [I]Then, witch and Child, awakened repossess the cauldron and claim the loom[/I] [I]Reweaving tales first told in ancient blood[/I] [I]on stone.[/I] Cedar [/QUOTE]
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Work and Germany; Benedictines and Buddhists: Attitude
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