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Work and Germany Part II: Abandonment Recovery
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 674132" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>"<em>Love liberates."</em></p><p></p><p>There is courage in loving.</p><p></p><p>I wonder if it is so simple a thing as reframing our defining of ourselves and our feelings. Maya: <em>"You were a piss poor mother of young children...."</em> And yet, Maya was able to reinterpret her story, to rewrite it and come through the terrible things she did come through, and to know love <em>for herself </em>well enough to describe it as she has, here.</p><p></p><p>It must take courage to love yourself like that. With that kind of clarity and dignity and without shame or braggadocio.</p><p></p><p>That's an amazing thing.</p><p></p><p>I hope that is where we are going, next.</p><p></p><p>To loving ourselves like that. That is where we are going.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>So Leafy, if Maya's sister asked why she was crying, or why she was not painting...<em>what would Maya say?</em></p><p></p><p>What would be the expression on Maya's face?</p><p></p><p>Remember Maya telling Oprah about the sacrosanct inside us where we may meet God, one day. That place is what was hurt in us, maybe. The right to sacrosanct; to preparation for God.</p><p></p><p>What a wonderful thing, to think it. To believe it.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>That is how we call others to witness for us, and to teach us how to redefine ourselves. I love what Maya has done for herself, and for so many women. I wonder whether I would ever have such courage as to know those things she knows.</p><p></p><p>To know those things, in my bones.</p><p></p><p>I love the feel of open, generous center from both Maya and the black lady from Matrix. I love the way their feet are big, and the way they accept that there are hard things as just a matter of course. And bake cookies anyway. And wear sparkly dresses and portray nothing so much as themselves, Present.</p><p></p><p>That is strength, and that is how courage looks and feels.</p><p></p><p>That is what we lost when we broke in the face of what was happening to our children. But here is something equally true: This time when we heal, as we healed the first time through the Sleeping Beauty kiss that was loving our children ~ this time when we heal, we heal the core; the generous center of self.</p><p></p><p>And we will laugh, easily and sure as rain, like Maya and like the lady from Matrix.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I had not seen the final portions of this last clip, Leafy, where Maya tells us about her mother's death. I love that Maya takes responsibility; that she stands up and finds the words and carries through with courage and has no shame around having done what was required of her without cowardice or regret. That is celebration of life, maybe. Where we stumble is shame at our courage, at our honesty. But the shame is not ours. The shame does not mean we cannot love our people. Maya: "<em>You were a piss poor mother of young children." </em>And then, she went on to claim the right to love the dying mother, and to accept that in a glorious way that was clear and real.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p>A major point:</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Shunning....</p><p></p><p>This is what they are trying to take from us with their shunning. The right to believe our love matters.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>We are not in reciprocal relationships with our families of origin. There is not strength there, for us; no kindness of spirit, not for anyone.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking about my family of origin ~ thinking about the times I saw kindness or generosity or courageous love.</p><p></p><p>We are in the strange position of loving courageously with nothing to fire either courage or bravery; that place within us where sanctity is seeded has been so long under attack. <em>That place is where our abusers did their work, making us believe them instead of ourselves.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Our Sanctuary, our Sanctuary Within, so we could never rest or heal or know purity or peace.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>Here is a thought: I wonder whether we can feel fully human in a real, fiery, present way without the love of family. I think not. I think that is where we lose that center place, that place of sanctity Maya talks about.</p><p></p><p>Maybe, sanctity is the thing beneath abandonment and is protected by it as surely as shame was a marker for abandonment.</p><p></p><p>And maybe, once we begin the process of reclaiming ourselves through true things, that journey to center, and that opening without fear, are just natural things that happen once we decide to heal.</p><p></p><p><em>A white and a six petaled Promise appear</em></p><p><em>moon shadowed, in pools catacombing the Earth</em></p><p></p><p>I wonder where the rest of that poetry is. I will find it and post it here for us, one day.</p><p></p><p>Also, I am reading Lieh-Tzu, translated by Eva Wong. (We are doing this in my Tai Chi class. We have been reading the same three philosophers for six years. This is the seventh year. This way of marking personal change is instructive. My interpretations of meaning have changed dramatically over this time. As angry as I am now? I must have been very much more angry about everything, then. Here are the three stages: We see everything and must comment. Then, we realize we know nothing. We begin to say nothing, no matter what we thought we saw. Then, we realize neither thing matters.</p><p></p><p>We matter.</p><p></p><p>At this point, we are present, and meaningful conversation may or may not take place.</p><p></p><p>I just got that, after all these years. Now, I cannot find the chapter it was in.</p><p></p><p>Roar.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Once we decide to tell ourselves true things, once we name the Liar and learn it isn't us and never was, that is when it becomes possible for us to disbelieve our abusers. Soon after, we realize they were wrong in everything they told us about ourselves, the first time they told us who we were. (Note Maya's concept of believing people the first time they tell us who <em>they</em> are. This is the same thing, only regarding ourselves. Here again, I think this would be an issue of reclaiming internal, versus external, locus of control.)</p><p></p><p>In any event, that is where we are going. That place of sanctity within that our abusers could never sully because it is buried beneath self contempt, beneath shame, beneath abandonment. So, in magical literature, there are seven seals. Perhaps there are seven seals in this sense, too. We did not know abandonment lived beneath shame, or that we would need to work through so much that was shaming, learning to see ourselves through our own eyes, or to find witnesses who could see how wrong our abusers were. So, all we know is that there are levels, and they seem to get more overwhelming, the deeper we go.</p><p></p><p>Like pressure under water.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I was just thinking about how twisted, how unremitting, and with what merciless energies, the attacks by our families of origin have been. They seem to have tried with every venomous weapon at their disposal. Up to and including shunning their own people.</p><p></p><p>I wish I had not been brought up in such an environment. I am very certain I will have been such an instrument many times myself.</p><p></p><p>That is probably the highest reason we intend to heal. Never to be so afraid again that we function from that automaton place where we are the only living things in the room, pale imitations of ourselves, of who and how we could be ~ of how we will be, now that we are healing.</p><p></p><p>I suppose everything is happening as it should.</p><p></p><p>We are very strong.</p><p></p><p>I did not know that.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Anyway, that is the essence of shunning: rejecting the value of our love.</p><p></p><p>That is the biggest lie my family of origin ever told me. That my loving ~ that anyone's loving appreciation or delight ~ could be an unwelcome thing. That there were levels and tiers.</p><p></p><p>So, I am in the middle of this one now, and I don't know what I mean. It has something to do with appreciation. Which we have to be Present to feel.</p><p></p><p>And I don't know how to do that, of course.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I go back again and again to Leafy's sister accusing her of not painting.</p><p></p><p>Why do you suppose she does that, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>Very cruel, those words. Whether you were or were not painting...what does the sister have to say about your painting when you <em>are</em> painting, Leafy? Is she comforting and strengthening, or is she contemptuous?</p><p></p><p>Some years ago, my sister took a class and created her first painting. Though we live many states apart, she brought it to me, for safekeeping.</p><p></p><p>I don't know why.</p><p></p><p>That's why I sometimes fall back in love with my sister.</p><p></p><p>Pseudo-mom.</p><p></p><p>I need to be careful around those issues.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>I don't know about that, Leafy. But I love that Dr. Suess. I had this on my fridge for the longest time:</p><p></p><p>Your brains in your head</p><p>your feets in your shoes</p><p>Your hands in your pockets</p><p>you got nothin' to lose</p><p></p><p>You can go</p><p>any direction you choose.</p><p></p><p>I added the parts about empty pockets. That's how it felt when our family fell apart.</p><p></p><p>Directionless.</p><p></p><p>I wish I'd been more disciplined in...okay, you guys. Here is where we do ourselves in. "I wish I'd been blah, blah, blah." Simple enough statement. It began with beating myself up a little, cleaning that up to "more disciplined", and berating myself for where I am in my life now.</p><p></p><p>None of those things are objectively true.</p><p></p><p>I did beautifully, and I did it long past the time that would have been possible for most of us.</p><p></p><p>Actually, for those who remember the issues I explored in going back to school, and in choosing that particular school...and this was after that first therapist had had at me, too. It is astonishing that I could use any of that to berate myself, now.</p><p></p><p>But I just caught myself doing exactly that.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that something.</p><p></p><p>This is where we will begin healing globally, maybe. As we come to understand, to really get it, that we have been defining ourselves and our lives through the eyes of the abuser. And reinterpret their teachings in the light of that sanctuary space within us.</p><p></p><p>Unsullied.</p><p></p><p>Just like Maya told us it would be.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Or maybe it will be: "F you, Mom."</p><p></p><p>Because I really am still very upset with my mother.</p><p></p><p>And I am determined to be upset with my sister.</p><p></p><p>So, here is the real question: If I am not going to stay in this place where I hate everyone, how am I supposed to interpret all this?</p><p></p><p>Well, I don't know.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>When we can cry like Maya, like tears don't matter, like they are an extraneous thing that just happen because you are standing right at the center of some place of amazing grace and Presence that has nothing to do with suffering or really, with any emotion we can identify ourselves with right now (and when I can, too) then we will be stronger enough, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>That is how we will know.</p><p></p><p>How would you like your sister to respond, when you cry?</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Leafy, I am noticing that the circle involves punishing ourselves. We do things so we can go automatic negative tape.</p><p></p><p>That is the "reward". The reward is the hit that keeps us in the old, familiar emotional reality. As we become healthier, these tapes intensify, the feelings become impossible to ignore and BOOM.</p><p></p><p>We can see them.</p><p></p><p>We can see the circle.</p><p></p><p>Stop it, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>No beating yourself up.</p><p></p><p>That is, in the crazy lexicon of our families of origin, the reward: Self contempt.</p><p></p><p>Leafy, if you follow the dialogue, you will come through stronger and stronger places where there is shame or all kinds of other bad feelings. This is why, I think so anyway, we run those negative tapes in the first place: To heal is to change everything. Change is scary. We have to mean it, if we intend to heal.</p><p></p><p>If the physical manifestation of your process is weight, Leafy, I would like you to fight very hard not to condemn yourself. <em>Without the "reward" of self disgust Leafy, you will lose weight. The more you are able to love yourself, degree by degree, the less you will require the self condemnation that keeps you feeling safe ~ safe, like when you were a little girl. When it no longer matters to you Leafy, when you no longer need it, the weight will fall away.</em></p><p></p><p><em>We each are meant to be whole and healthy and strong, Leafy. Everything in our lives is deigned to accomplish that, to see it through to conclusion.</em></p><p></p><p><em>There is nothing you need to do; there is nothing you can do.</em></p><p></p><p><em>You are healing already by confessing the secret, thereby choosing to discard the protection, the circling protection, of shame.</em></p><p></p><p>The answer for you will be as it has been for each of us here Leafy, I think. You must learn to hold yourself with compassion, and true joy in your aliveness. Not when you did not eat chocolate, but when you did.</p><p></p><p>We must extend mercy to ourselves, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>We cannot heal, without it.</p><p></p><p>If you detest that you are heavy, then that is where you must begin to cherish every smallest or largest or whatever size particle of self. That is where true love begins, Leafy. With where we were taught to hate ourselves. With those poor, hurt parts of us that are wounded and infected and yet, were somehow courageous and strong enough to get us to now.</p><p></p><p>This is how you carried yourself through the pain of what was, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>Honor yourself for that.</p><p></p><p>It was a very hard thing.</p><p></p><p>And you did it.</p><p></p><p>You already did it, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Here is a Shakespeare for you:</p><p></p><p><em>The quality of Mercy is not strain'd</em></p><p><em>it falleth as the gentle rain from Heav'n</em></p><p><em>upon the place beneath.</em></p><p></p><p><em>It is twice blest;</em></p><p><em>it blesseth him that gives and him</em></p><p><em>that takes.</em></p><p></p><p><em>"Tis Mightiest in the Mighty.</em></p><p></p><p>Isn't that beautiful.</p><p></p><p>Here is Frankenstein, again Leafy. (Mary Shelly.) He teaches compassion for the self, especially for those of us hurt as little kids and taught there were parts of us that were unacceptable to our people who loved us. Those parts of us lost integrity with the rest of us, Leafy. They are like dead parts of Frankenstien's monster, stitched together somehow to make a whole.</p><p></p><p>We have to love our Frankenstein as he is, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>We have to go to the cave and melt the ice into water and stay with him while he cries with the pain of it.</p><p></p><p>If we can hold ourselves in compassion, if we can examine the stitches and celebrate the healing instead of condemning ourselves for the brokenness, then we will heal.</p><p></p><p>So I would love it if I could hear that you would stop punishing yourself in your words, Leafy.</p><p></p><p>You are perfect, as you are.</p><p></p><p>You will have to take that on faith for a little while, maybe.</p><p></p><p>That is why we are here, all of us on FOO Chronicles.</p><p></p><p>To take it on faith for one another until we are stronger enough.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p><em>"Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and of enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was capable of unfolding."</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Mary Shelly</em></p><p><em>Frankenstein's Monster Speaks</em></p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 674132, member: 17461"] "[I]Love liberates."[/I] There is courage in loving. I wonder if it is so simple a thing as reframing our defining of ourselves and our feelings. Maya: [I]"You were a piss poor mother of young children...."[/I] And yet, Maya was able to reinterpret her story, to rewrite it and come through the terrible things she did come through, and to know love [I]for herself [/I]well enough to describe it as she has, here. It must take courage to love yourself like that. With that kind of clarity and dignity and without shame or braggadocio. That's an amazing thing. I hope that is where we are going, next. To loving ourselves like that. That is where we are going. :O) *** So Leafy, if Maya's sister asked why she was crying, or why she was not painting...[I]what would Maya say?[/I] What would be the expression on Maya's face? Remember Maya telling Oprah about the sacrosanct inside us where we may meet God, one day. That place is what was hurt in us, maybe. The right to sacrosanct; to preparation for God. What a wonderful thing, to think it. To believe it. *** That is how we call others to witness for us, and to teach us how to redefine ourselves. I love what Maya has done for herself, and for so many women. I wonder whether I would ever have such courage as to know those things she knows. To know those things, in my bones. I love the feel of open, generous center from both Maya and the black lady from Matrix. I love the way their feet are big, and the way they accept that there are hard things as just a matter of course. And bake cookies anyway. And wear sparkly dresses and portray nothing so much as themselves, Present. That is strength, and that is how courage looks and feels. That is what we lost when we broke in the face of what was happening to our children. But here is something equally true: This time when we heal, as we healed the first time through the Sleeping Beauty kiss that was loving our children ~ this time when we heal, we heal the core; the generous center of self. And we will laugh, easily and sure as rain, like Maya and like the lady from Matrix. *** I had not seen the final portions of this last clip, Leafy, where Maya tells us about her mother's death. I love that Maya takes responsibility; that she stands up and finds the words and carries through with courage and has no shame around having done what was required of her without cowardice or regret. That is celebration of life, maybe. Where we stumble is shame at our courage, at our honesty. But the shame is not ours. The shame does not mean we cannot love our people. Maya: "[I]You were a piss poor mother of young children." [/I]And then, she went on to claim the right to love the dying mother, and to accept that in a glorious way that was clear and real. *** A major point: *** Shunning.... This is what they are trying to take from us with their shunning. The right to believe our love matters. *** We are not in reciprocal relationships with our families of origin. There is not strength there, for us; no kindness of spirit, not for anyone. I am thinking about my family of origin ~ thinking about the times I saw kindness or generosity or courageous love. We are in the strange position of loving courageously with nothing to fire either courage or bravery; that place within us where sanctity is seeded has been so long under attack. [I]That place is where our abusers did their work, making us believe them instead of ourselves. Our Sanctuary, our Sanctuary Within, so we could never rest or heal or know purity or peace. [/I] Here is a thought: I wonder whether we can feel fully human in a real, fiery, present way without the love of family. I think not. I think that is where we lose that center place, that place of sanctity Maya talks about. Maybe, sanctity is the thing beneath abandonment and is protected by it as surely as shame was a marker for abandonment. And maybe, once we begin the process of reclaiming ourselves through true things, that journey to center, and that opening without fear, are just natural things that happen once we decide to heal. [I]A white and a six petaled Promise appear moon shadowed, in pools catacombing the Earth[/I] I wonder where the rest of that poetry is. I will find it and post it here for us, one day. Also, I am reading Lieh-Tzu, translated by Eva Wong. (We are doing this in my Tai Chi class. We have been reading the same three philosophers for six years. This is the seventh year. This way of marking personal change is instructive. My interpretations of meaning have changed dramatically over this time. As angry as I am now? I must have been very much more angry about everything, then. Here are the three stages: We see everything and must comment. Then, we realize we know nothing. We begin to say nothing, no matter what we thought we saw. Then, we realize neither thing matters. We matter. At this point, we are present, and meaningful conversation may or may not take place. I just got that, after all these years. Now, I cannot find the chapter it was in. Roar. *** Once we decide to tell ourselves true things, once we name the Liar and learn it isn't us and never was, that is when it becomes possible for us to disbelieve our abusers. Soon after, we realize they were wrong in everything they told us about ourselves, the first time they told us who we were. (Note Maya's concept of believing people the first time they tell us who [I]they[/I] are. This is the same thing, only regarding ourselves. Here again, I think this would be an issue of reclaiming internal, versus external, locus of control.) In any event, that is where we are going. That place of sanctity within that our abusers could never sully because it is buried beneath self contempt, beneath shame, beneath abandonment. So, in magical literature, there are seven seals. Perhaps there are seven seals in this sense, too. We did not know abandonment lived beneath shame, or that we would need to work through so much that was shaming, learning to see ourselves through our own eyes, or to find witnesses who could see how wrong our abusers were. So, all we know is that there are levels, and they seem to get more overwhelming, the deeper we go. Like pressure under water. *** I was just thinking about how twisted, how unremitting, and with what merciless energies, the attacks by our families of origin have been. They seem to have tried with every venomous weapon at their disposal. Up to and including shunning their own people. I wish I had not been brought up in such an environment. I am very certain I will have been such an instrument many times myself. That is probably the highest reason we intend to heal. Never to be so afraid again that we function from that automaton place where we are the only living things in the room, pale imitations of ourselves, of who and how we could be ~ of how we will be, now that we are healing. I suppose everything is happening as it should. We are very strong. I did not know that. *** Anyway, that is the essence of shunning: rejecting the value of our love. That is the biggest lie my family of origin ever told me. That my loving ~ that anyone's loving appreciation or delight ~ could be an unwelcome thing. That there were levels and tiers. So, I am in the middle of this one now, and I don't know what I mean. It has something to do with appreciation. Which we have to be Present to feel. And I don't know how to do that, of course. *** I go back again and again to Leafy's sister accusing her of not painting. Why do you suppose she does that, Leafy. Very cruel, those words. Whether you were or were not painting...what does the sister have to say about your painting when you [I]are[/I] painting, Leafy? Is she comforting and strengthening, or is she contemptuous? Some years ago, my sister took a class and created her first painting. Though we live many states apart, she brought it to me, for safekeeping. I don't know why. That's why I sometimes fall back in love with my sister. Pseudo-mom. I need to be careful around those issues. *** :O) I don't know about that, Leafy. But I love that Dr. Suess. I had this on my fridge for the longest time: Your brains in your head your feets in your shoes Your hands in your pockets you got nothin' to lose You can go any direction you choose. I added the parts about empty pockets. That's how it felt when our family fell apart. Directionless. I wish I'd been more disciplined in...okay, you guys. Here is where we do ourselves in. "I wish I'd been blah, blah, blah." Simple enough statement. It began with beating myself up a little, cleaning that up to "more disciplined", and berating myself for where I am in my life now. None of those things are objectively true. I did beautifully, and I did it long past the time that would have been possible for most of us. Actually, for those who remember the issues I explored in going back to school, and in choosing that particular school...and this was after that first therapist had had at me, too. It is astonishing that I could use any of that to berate myself, now. But I just caught myself doing exactly that. Isn't that something. This is where we will begin healing globally, maybe. As we come to understand, to really get it, that we have been defining ourselves and our lives through the eyes of the abuser. And reinterpret their teachings in the light of that sanctuary space within us. Unsullied. Just like Maya told us it would be. *** Or maybe it will be: "F you, Mom." Because I really am still very upset with my mother. And I am determined to be upset with my sister. So, here is the real question: If I am not going to stay in this place where I hate everyone, how am I supposed to interpret all this? Well, I don't know. *** When we can cry like Maya, like tears don't matter, like they are an extraneous thing that just happen because you are standing right at the center of some place of amazing grace and Presence that has nothing to do with suffering or really, with any emotion we can identify ourselves with right now (and when I can, too) then we will be stronger enough, Leafy. That is how we will know. How would you like your sister to respond, when you cry? *** Leafy, I am noticing that the circle involves punishing ourselves. We do things so we can go automatic negative tape. That is the "reward". The reward is the hit that keeps us in the old, familiar emotional reality. As we become healthier, these tapes intensify, the feelings become impossible to ignore and BOOM. We can see them. We can see the circle. Stop it, Leafy. No beating yourself up. That is, in the crazy lexicon of our families of origin, the reward: Self contempt. Leafy, if you follow the dialogue, you will come through stronger and stronger places where there is shame or all kinds of other bad feelings. This is why, I think so anyway, we run those negative tapes in the first place: To heal is to change everything. Change is scary. We have to mean it, if we intend to heal. If the physical manifestation of your process is weight, Leafy, I would like you to fight very hard not to condemn yourself. [I]Without the "reward" of self disgust Leafy, you will lose weight. The more you are able to love yourself, degree by degree, the less you will require the self condemnation that keeps you feeling safe ~ safe, like when you were a little girl. When it no longer matters to you Leafy, when you no longer need it, the weight will fall away.[/I] [I]We each are meant to be whole and healthy and strong, Leafy. Everything in our lives is deigned to accomplish that, to see it through to conclusion.[/I] [I]There is nothing you need to do; there is nothing you can do.[/I] [I]You are healing already by confessing the secret, thereby choosing to discard the protection, the circling protection, of shame.[/I] The answer for you will be as it has been for each of us here Leafy, I think. You must learn to hold yourself with compassion, and true joy in your aliveness. Not when you did not eat chocolate, but when you did. We must extend mercy to ourselves, Leafy. We cannot heal, without it. If you detest that you are heavy, then that is where you must begin to cherish every smallest or largest or whatever size particle of self. That is where true love begins, Leafy. With where we were taught to hate ourselves. With those poor, hurt parts of us that are wounded and infected and yet, were somehow courageous and strong enough to get us to now. This is how you carried yourself through the pain of what was, Leafy. Honor yourself for that. It was a very hard thing. And you did it. You already did it, Leafy. *** Here is a Shakespeare for you: [I]The quality of Mercy is not strain'd it falleth as the gentle rain from Heav'n upon the place beneath.[/I] [I]It is twice blest; it blesseth him that gives and him that takes.[/I] [I]"Tis Mightiest in the Mighty.[/I] Isn't that beautiful. Here is Frankenstein, again Leafy. (Mary Shelly.) He teaches compassion for the self, especially for those of us hurt as little kids and taught there were parts of us that were unacceptable to our people who loved us. Those parts of us lost integrity with the rest of us, Leafy. They are like dead parts of Frankenstien's monster, stitched together somehow to make a whole. We have to love our Frankenstein as he is, Leafy. We have to go to the cave and melt the ice into water and stay with him while he cries with the pain of it. If we can hold ourselves in compassion, if we can examine the stitches and celebrate the healing instead of condemning ourselves for the brokenness, then we will heal. So I would love it if I could hear that you would stop punishing yourself in your words, Leafy. You are perfect, as you are. You will have to take that on faith for a little while, maybe. That is why we are here, all of us on FOO Chronicles. To take it on faith for one another until we are stronger enough. *** [I]"Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and of enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was capable of unfolding." Mary Shelly Frankenstein's Monster Speaks[/I] Cedar [/QUOTE]
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