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Family of Origin
Being who we are, even if FOO is different and doesn't like it
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 672748" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Yes. We are still learning to pierce the shells created and erected to protect us from what was. Hiding not only our loving and our anger and our pain, but our joy and our awareness of the sweetness of everything there is, from the sunrise to the feeling of lying cheek to cheek with someone we love without being aware that we are perfect or ashamed that we are not.</p><p></p><p>I will be so happy to have them out of my head, them and their negative tapes zipping along at such speed we can no longer make out the words, but only the sickening feeling of not enough.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I love this.</p><p></p><p>Two ceiling heights; lots of huge windows and sunshine and living plants.</p><p></p><p>Maybe, you will have birds.</p><p></p><p>It's own entrance.</p><p></p><p>I would love this room.</p><p></p><p>In the Benedictine retreat center where I used to go sometimes, there is a room something like that, Copa. It is filled with living plants. One of the nuns engages in the kind of work we were posting about ~ Buddhist work ~ around the roomful of plants. Each of them thrives so beautifully, and there is never so much as a dead or wrinkled leaf anywhere.</p><p></p><p>She attends each of the plants so carefully. She seems very kind, and there is a sense of silence and competence about her.</p><p></p><p>I am no longer able to have living plants or birds or aquariums because we travel. But there was a time when I did. I wish I had known then the Buddhist concept of work. I think of it so often now, and it places me right in the center of what I am doing.</p><p></p><p>I love this room for you, Copa. </p><p></p><p>Once you are settled there, who knows what will come, next.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>M is like me, then. I literally did not see any of what my family of origin was doing as wrong or hurtful. I was that defended. </p><p></p><p>Now, they horrify me. I love them still (and wish I did not and hope I fall out of love with them one day soon), but they seem almost reptilian to me now. I love them because I feel warm when i think of them, but now I also feel the way I would feel watching someone I love beat a puppy.</p><p></p><p>Maybe Copa, you and M will heal through this part together.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>No, I thought we were talking about your sister, still. Whoever did it, to drink the expensive liquor tells me two things. First, that to drink it all without saying so indicates an understanding of an educated palette, and the intense disappointment that will happen when, believing and anticipating that the Scotch is there, the person whose Scotch it is learns the bottle is empty and there will be no Scotch for them, that night.</p><p></p><p>That is the nasty little kick in the gut in it. </p><p></p><p>Not so much that the Scotch was expensive, but that whoever bought it considered the expense worthwhile. The reward of it, the sweetness of savoring and anticipation turned into disappointment, that is the knife in the guts.</p><p></p><p>Another stiletto.</p><p></p><p>The difference now Copa is that we do not blame ourselves for having such expensive Scotch, or for knowing what it is enough to cherish it, or for having left it unlocked, or for the other person having taken advantage of us. We aren't weaving a web of excuses for the other guy. We are saying: "Who knew they were like that?"</p><p></p><p>And we do not allow them in our homes unsupervised. Someone who will guzzle all the expensive Scotch is not a safe person for your animals or your belongings.</p><p>In our lives, just as we duplicate the circumstances of our upbringings with our mates, so will we duplicate other hurtful relationships in order to see and then, heal, the initial wounds.</p><p></p><p>That's okay, Copa. We are learning, and seeing, and learning some more. That the sister is as she is turns out to be a valuable lesson. The blinders, just this one time, coming off gently. </p><p></p><p>Here is what I know about Scotch: Those who love it romance it. They taste the nuances and love the smell and assess the color and swear they can taste the age in it and the weather in the year it was made. I think? It smells a little like the bottom of a haybale. </p><p></p><p>Rotten.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>But I have seen it savored and cherished.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>I'm sorry, Copa. There is grief in learning the sisters are not who we believed them to be. At first, we feel so stupidly blind. Then came such anger, Copa! And now, I am vacuuming, deep cleaning, remodeling.</p><p></p><p>Inside, and out.</p><p></p><p>We are doing well, then. Proceeding on course. Beautiful tall sails against the stars and the sun and the stars, again.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Oh, look. I think we are in Hawaii.</p><p></p><p>Dressed in our pirate skirts and stiletto heels.</p><p></p><p>Oh, look! There are Lil and Jabber and everyone from Monty Python.</p><p></p><p>Yesterday, the phrase that kept repeating was: "I don't want to talk to you no more." And I couldn't figure out where that was from or what it meant. and then, I remembered: That is what the French says to the English. And then, "Now go away, or I will taunt you a second time!"</p><p></p><p>So, we must be getting close to meaning it, in our healing.</p><p></p><p>[MEDIA=youtube]ey0wvGiAH9g[/MEDIA]</p><p></p><p>Do you see my brother in the stream at the beginning, ignored while the King passes by? And it occurs to me that the animals thrown over the walls of the palace are the places we are healed; are the things they can no longer hurt or shame us with to have what they want of us.</p><p></p><p>For those who missed that thread, here is something else Lil and Jabber posted for us that I liked very much but I don't exactly know why, or how it fits into our healing, here:</p><p></p><p>[MEDIA=youtube]jsjWVyabJvs[/MEDIA]</p><p></p><p>So, the last thing: Even as we deconstruct the hypnotic draw of family, we are still looking at a tapestry, here. That is what I meant, when I said we will always love them, will always find them fascinating. Theses are the colors of the tapestries that are our lives. There will not come a time when we are not drawn to our people in the most compelling and mysterious ways.</p><p></p><p>That is why we need to come to grips with the meaning of things, and with the cost to us, and with the terrible cheapness of what was bought with our pain.</p><p></p><p>That is why I kept posting that I did not get the win in what they were doing. There was a win, but it was that cheap and meaningless a thing that we could not see it; could never have counted something like that a win. All that pain, all those lonely, lonely times when no one had our backs and we knew it and went forward anyway as best we knew.... Really, carrying our loneliness within us where others have the bravery and expectation of family. It seems mind boggling to me that the win was nothing more than what it appears.</p><p></p><p>Something cheap.</p><p></p><p>Like a trick. Or like one of those buzzers people wear in the palms of their hands where when you shake with them, you get a shock.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 672748, member: 17461"] Yes. We are still learning to pierce the shells created and erected to protect us from what was. Hiding not only our loving and our anger and our pain, but our joy and our awareness of the sweetness of everything there is, from the sunrise to the feeling of lying cheek to cheek with someone we love without being aware that we are perfect or ashamed that we are not. I will be so happy to have them out of my head, them and their negative tapes zipping along at such speed we can no longer make out the words, but only the sickening feeling of not enough. I love this. Two ceiling heights; lots of huge windows and sunshine and living plants. Maybe, you will have birds. It's own entrance. I would love this room. In the Benedictine retreat center where I used to go sometimes, there is a room something like that, Copa. It is filled with living plants. One of the nuns engages in the kind of work we were posting about ~ Buddhist work ~ around the roomful of plants. Each of them thrives so beautifully, and there is never so much as a dead or wrinkled leaf anywhere. She attends each of the plants so carefully. She seems very kind, and there is a sense of silence and competence about her. I am no longer able to have living plants or birds or aquariums because we travel. But there was a time when I did. I wish I had known then the Buddhist concept of work. I think of it so often now, and it places me right in the center of what I am doing. I love this room for you, Copa. Once you are settled there, who knows what will come, next. M is like me, then. I literally did not see any of what my family of origin was doing as wrong or hurtful. I was that defended. Now, they horrify me. I love them still (and wish I did not and hope I fall out of love with them one day soon), but they seem almost reptilian to me now. I love them because I feel warm when i think of them, but now I also feel the way I would feel watching someone I love beat a puppy. Maybe Copa, you and M will heal through this part together. *** No, I thought we were talking about your sister, still. Whoever did it, to drink the expensive liquor tells me two things. First, that to drink it all without saying so indicates an understanding of an educated palette, and the intense disappointment that will happen when, believing and anticipating that the Scotch is there, the person whose Scotch it is learns the bottle is empty and there will be no Scotch for them, that night. That is the nasty little kick in the gut in it. Not so much that the Scotch was expensive, but that whoever bought it considered the expense worthwhile. The reward of it, the sweetness of savoring and anticipation turned into disappointment, that is the knife in the guts. Another stiletto. The difference now Copa is that we do not blame ourselves for having such expensive Scotch, or for knowing what it is enough to cherish it, or for having left it unlocked, or for the other person having taken advantage of us. We aren't weaving a web of excuses for the other guy. We are saying: "Who knew they were like that?" And we do not allow them in our homes unsupervised. Someone who will guzzle all the expensive Scotch is not a safe person for your animals or your belongings. In our lives, just as we duplicate the circumstances of our upbringings with our mates, so will we duplicate other hurtful relationships in order to see and then, heal, the initial wounds. That's okay, Copa. We are learning, and seeing, and learning some more. That the sister is as she is turns out to be a valuable lesson. The blinders, just this one time, coming off gently. Here is what I know about Scotch: Those who love it romance it. They taste the nuances and love the smell and assess the color and swear they can taste the age in it and the weather in the year it was made. I think? It smells a little like the bottom of a haybale. Rotten. :O) But I have seen it savored and cherished. Cedar I'm sorry, Copa. There is grief in learning the sisters are not who we believed them to be. At first, we feel so stupidly blind. Then came such anger, Copa! And now, I am vacuuming, deep cleaning, remodeling. Inside, and out. We are doing well, then. Proceeding on course. Beautiful tall sails against the stars and the sun and the stars, again. :O) Oh, look. I think we are in Hawaii. Dressed in our pirate skirts and stiletto heels. Oh, look! There are Lil and Jabber and everyone from Monty Python. Yesterday, the phrase that kept repeating was: "I don't want to talk to you no more." And I couldn't figure out where that was from or what it meant. and then, I remembered: That is what the French says to the English. And then, "Now go away, or I will taunt you a second time!" So, we must be getting close to meaning it, in our healing. [MEDIA=youtube]ey0wvGiAH9g[/MEDIA] Do you see my brother in the stream at the beginning, ignored while the King passes by? And it occurs to me that the animals thrown over the walls of the palace are the places we are healed; are the things they can no longer hurt or shame us with to have what they want of us. For those who missed that thread, here is something else Lil and Jabber posted for us that I liked very much but I don't exactly know why, or how it fits into our healing, here: [MEDIA=youtube]jsjWVyabJvs[/MEDIA] So, the last thing: Even as we deconstruct the hypnotic draw of family, we are still looking at a tapestry, here. That is what I meant, when I said we will always love them, will always find them fascinating. Theses are the colors of the tapestries that are our lives. There will not come a time when we are not drawn to our people in the most compelling and mysterious ways. That is why we need to come to grips with the meaning of things, and with the cost to us, and with the terrible cheapness of what was bought with our pain. That is why I kept posting that I did not get the win in what they were doing. There was a win, but it was that cheap and meaningless a thing that we could not see it; could never have counted something like that a win. All that pain, all those lonely, lonely times when no one had our backs and we knew it and went forward anyway as best we knew.... Really, carrying our loneliness within us where others have the bravery and expectation of family. It seems mind boggling to me that the win was nothing more than what it appears. Something cheap. Like a trick. Or like one of those buzzers people wear in the palms of their hands where when you shake with them, you get a shock. [/QUOTE]
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