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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 667733" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>That was Copa who saw you so beautifully, Serenity. </p><p></p><p>I wholeheartedly concur.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Serenity's sister exposed herself in pursuing Serenity even here. Though our sisters seem not so driven, the patterns of their behaviors toward us are as ~ as coldly, determinedly unkind, I guess. It's spooky, and I wonder what the sisters' mindsets could be, and how they legitimize their behaviors toward us, and whether that was the flavor of our growing up. I was thinking yesterday about the way Serenity's sister seems locked into ~ I don't know. Almost a sense of entitlement in gaslighting Serenity, and in publicly humiliating her. It must have been awful, having the police repeatedly called to her home, knowing which picture had been drawn for them about who Serenity was. </p><p></p><p>I am still so conflicted about my sister.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p></p><p>We do feel weak, or unsafe, or targeted sometimes, Copa.</p><p></p><p>In response to these feelings, character is formed.</p><p></p><p>I am reading Brene Brown's <em>Rising Strong.</em> It is about that very thing. About risking and failing and how that hurts and how hard it is to get up off the floor when we've failed. She studies the hurt of that, and the scariness of risking again anyway <em>and that is what we are doing.</em> We are learning to allow vulnerability and to discipline our responses. That's a really hard thing, when we think about the sisters, and about how it might have been for us growing up, and just where did they get the idea it was okay to behave toward us, or to think about us, as they do. </p><p></p><p>That is a part of why I am so sad, this morning.</p><p></p><p>What in the world were the rules, in the families we grew up in, that each of the sisters behaves as she does?</p><p></p><p>How did we ever survive that.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I am sorry, Copa. I did not know.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><a href="http://www.flylady.com" target="_blank">www.flylady.com</a></p><p></p><p>That site will take us through anything, Copa. The secret is a timer. We can do anything, stick to anything, for fifteen minutes. Set a timer and do fifteen intense minutes. Wherever you are at the end of fifteen minutes, you are done with that task for that day. She teaches how to pack for trips, how to pack and label for moving, how to organize. How to set up menus and stay motivated. The site is free, and is very funny.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yuck, me too.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>It's a question of the harm done me. I am so angry and then, so sad, as I come through this part. It's such an ugly, lonely little story that I hardly know what to do with it.</p><p></p><p>The essential harm done has to do with external, rather than internal, locus of control. How someone else feels about us can determine how we feel about ourselves. I wonder whether, over time and with concerted effort to reassure ourselves, we will mature into internal locus of control. It seems to me that external locus would be a necessary phase in a child's development. It isn't going to help me to condemn myself for people pleasing. There isn't anything wrong with it, really. A matter of degree, of flexibility, again. We must learn to be okay with pleasing ourselves, as well. I mean, we have to be in there somewhere in some capacity not having to do with everyone else being happy. I will read about internal versus external locus of control. I am not sure whether internal locus of control would be the development of character.</p><p></p><p>Have I shared this one already, I wonder? It has to do with character development and with the happiness and focus come of it.</p><p></p><p><a href="http://ed.ted.com/on/G0v14Tg9" target="_blank">http://ed.ted.com/on/G0v14Tg9</a></p><p></p><p>I also read <em>The Road to Character.</em> I've forgotten now, who wrote it, but it was very well written, and was a valuable read for me at this time.</p><p></p><p>I am so totally ready for laughing. This has been a long stretch of hard work.</p><p></p><p>We need something funny.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>How does one forgive oneself for having been shunned? I thought bout that one alot last night, when I couldn't sleep. How does one forgive the deceitful ridicule in: "What would Cedar do?" Or the arrogance in: "I walk with the Lord."</p><p></p><p>I don't know.</p><p></p><p>roar</p><p></p><p>I don't know.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>But in perceiving attack <em>and to that very degree</em>, we are seeing through our shame bases. We should be able to stay centered, to stay in balance. Like my most recent mom, Dr. Ben Carson. I love the way he stays present, that he doesn't rattle easily, that he isn't arrogant because life is a serious gift and respect is a serious thing for each of us and yet, he is so easily funny, so easy in his skin. This does not mean the decision to fight for ourselves is incorrect. That we do it, that we recognize where we are and respond to it ~ that is a win in itself, for us. It's how we do it; how we guide ourselves through it. Blessed with the intelligence to recognize what is being keyed without being overwhelmed by it...that is the difficult part, for us. Learning to respond easily and well will involve ~ I think it will involve ~ listening for our negative tapes in anxiety-provoking situations. I remember when I first began thinking, "That'll do, pig." I thought it was funny, and it was in a way. As I healed further, I recognized how sad it was that I was saying those words to myself. In a way, I was saying to myself, "Who do you think you are?" Still, it was better than the hateful things running through on those unheard negative tapes.</p><p></p><p>This process will probably work something like that, too.</p><p></p><p>We are learning.</p><p></p><p>Mistakes are just fine. Are beautifully fine things for us to learn from, but never to condemn ourselves with. That would be a good way to begin, I think.</p><p></p><p>What to do about that shame base....</p><p></p><p>Well, I don't know. Be aware of it, listen to the tone and the words, if we can get them. Character development figures in here as a guide, maybe. I keep coming back to that phrase. I don't know why that is. Maybe, character formation legitimizes what we are about here in a way clearing the shame base does not. There is something here about having healed enough to begin building, maybe. This is human; this is how it was always supposed to be, in all of our lives. The mercy of true things.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I think those contorted, ambivalent, bitter feelings may be the energies fueling the shame base. That is the roaring, fiery energy we are using to condemn ourselves until we focus it appropriately. What I have found is that once I do roar on for awhile, the anger is just gone. It's as though I can see where it was. The memory of it holds no charge, all at once.</p><p></p><p>Beneath, there is the pain, that sort of dull sadness, that is the feel of trauma over time. I have been troubled by those kinds of feelings for two days. I awakened in the night with such sadness, with such a sense of the dull ugliness of it all. </p><p></p><p>This usually means I am between times.</p><p></p><p>Healing doesn't mean we get a blaze of energy or everything changes to sparkly. Sometimes, it is this dull feeling of disbelief and sorrow for what it's been, and for everything it wasn't.</p><p></p><p>Find and focus and free those feelings, Copa. They are the stolen parts of you. They are your energies by right.</p><p></p><p>Reclaim them.</p><p></p><p>The sisters have nothing to do with it.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Your response was perfect, Copa.</p><p></p><p>The first triumph, for us, is that response was made. We will arrive at that place where response is perfect, <em>in our own eyes</em>, which will be internal locus of control, in time.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>The basis of the anger I feel in the present Copa, is the time wasted. Is the vulnerability, and the pointless fear, in my life; is the bravery squandered mounting defense to family patterns of deceit, and viciousness, and trickery. It is as D H says: What might you have done, had you focused your attention on something other than trying to fit in to your family. They have hurt and weakened and sold me before, Copa.</p><p></p><p>What hurts me about it now is seeing that they've done it routinely, in every smallest thing.</p><p></p><p>roar</p><p></p><p>It would never have been vanilla goodness for us, Copa. <em>They hurt that standard of vanilla goodness into us. </em>We were so sure we were wrong, so sure that what we deserved was what was left.</p><p></p><p>Did this make us strong, Copa...or were we always strong.</p><p></p><p>And was our strength squandered, on them.</p><p></p><p>But again, I am the one who kept looking back.</p><p></p><p>Like Lot's wife.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>So, Joseph.</p><p></p><p>Not some paragon of virtue, but a practical man.</p><p></p><p>Maybe, he wept for the ugliness of the brothers because at long last, he understood he was nothing like them. Maybe, he finally was able to let go of those fearsome questions having to do with how not to be them, with how not to be like them. Joseph had all the power. He had accomplished beauty for ashes. Yet, he did not require vengeance. That is when he knew.</p><p></p><p>He was not like them; he did not require vengeance, nor did he harbor bitterness. His gentleness or candor or strength ~ his character, Copa and Serenity ~ these were not matters of circumstance.</p><p></p><p>He was free.</p><p></p><p>Perhaps he was weeping in gratitude for that freedom.</p><p></p><p>Note that it did not come to Joseph until he knew, beyond any smallest doubt, not who they were, but who he was. In letting go of vengeance, in choosing instead to hold faith with himself and his God even after the brothers tried, one last time, to deceive him with the forged letter from the father, Joseph pronounced his own name; pronounced the secret name he named himself, that no one else hears. </p><p></p><p>That could be a description of internal locus of control, or of certainty of character.</p><p></p><p>There is a story, I've forgotten the title, but I think it was an Orson Scott Card. In it, those whose destiny it was to be sold into slavery created dolls out of little twists of hair and knots of thread. Naming the twists of thread and hair with their secret names, those to be enslaved passed the threads to an old woman, strangely dressed and waiting, as each was herded toward the auction block. She caught them, every one, and kept them safe, weaving them together into a multicolored ball she hung from the rafters to catch the wind.</p><p></p><p>The threads carried the enslaved person's rage, and anger, and lust of freedom, and pride, and everything having to do with dignity and soul. One night, the wind rose and rose. Howling through the rafters where the balls of multicolored twists of thread and hair hung from blackened chains, it tore the threads loose. Catching the wind, drawn by the hair woven into the twists, the threads found and re-ensouled those enslaved. Suddenly not able to tolerate lives without freedom or dignity, the enslaved revolted and fought for and won their freedom.</p><p></p><p>It was some time of adjustment, before those formerly enslaved understood and incorporated their spirits easily and completely, with grace and with confident trust. They had been so long enslaved.</p><p></p><p>Many did not remember how to be free.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes, I agree, Copa.</p><p></p><p>Thank you both, Copa and Serenity. And thank you also to those who created and maintain this site, and who allowed and encouraged the creation of the Family of Origins threads.</p><p></p><p>We deeply appreciate your having welcomed and supported us, runawaybunny.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 667733, member: 17461"] That was Copa who saw you so beautifully, Serenity. I wholeheartedly concur. :O) Serenity's sister exposed herself in pursuing Serenity even here. Though our sisters seem not so driven, the patterns of their behaviors toward us are as ~ as coldly, determinedly unkind, I guess. It's spooky, and I wonder what the sisters' mindsets could be, and how they legitimize their behaviors toward us, and whether that was the flavor of our growing up. I was thinking yesterday about the way Serenity's sister seems locked into ~ I don't know. Almost a sense of entitlement in gaslighting Serenity, and in publicly humiliating her. It must have been awful, having the police repeatedly called to her home, knowing which picture had been drawn for them about who Serenity was. I am still so conflicted about my sister. *** We do feel weak, or unsafe, or targeted sometimes, Copa. In response to these feelings, character is formed. I am reading Brene Brown's [I]Rising Strong.[/I] It is about that very thing. About risking and failing and how that hurts and how hard it is to get up off the floor when we've failed. She studies the hurt of that, and the scariness of risking again anyway [I]and that is what we are doing.[/I] We are learning to allow vulnerability and to discipline our responses. That's a really hard thing, when we think about the sisters, and about how it might have been for us growing up, and just where did they get the idea it was okay to behave toward us, or to think about us, as they do. That is a part of why I am so sad, this morning. What in the world were the rules, in the families we grew up in, that each of the sisters behaves as she does? How did we ever survive that. I am sorry, Copa. I did not know. [URL="http://www.flylady.com"]www.flylady.com[/URL] That site will take us through anything, Copa. The secret is a timer. We can do anything, stick to anything, for fifteen minutes. Set a timer and do fifteen intense minutes. Wherever you are at the end of fifteen minutes, you are done with that task for that day. She teaches how to pack for trips, how to pack and label for moving, how to organize. How to set up menus and stay motivated. The site is free, and is very funny. Yuck, me too. :O) It's a question of the harm done me. I am so angry and then, so sad, as I come through this part. It's such an ugly, lonely little story that I hardly know what to do with it. The essential harm done has to do with external, rather than internal, locus of control. How someone else feels about us can determine how we feel about ourselves. I wonder whether, over time and with concerted effort to reassure ourselves, we will mature into internal locus of control. It seems to me that external locus would be a necessary phase in a child's development. It isn't going to help me to condemn myself for people pleasing. There isn't anything wrong with it, really. A matter of degree, of flexibility, again. We must learn to be okay with pleasing ourselves, as well. I mean, we have to be in there somewhere in some capacity not having to do with everyone else being happy. I will read about internal versus external locus of control. I am not sure whether internal locus of control would be the development of character. Have I shared this one already, I wonder? It has to do with character development and with the happiness and focus come of it. [URL]http://ed.ted.com/on/G0v14Tg9[/URL] I also read [I]The Road to Character.[/I] I've forgotten now, who wrote it, but it was very well written, and was a valuable read for me at this time. I am so totally ready for laughing. This has been a long stretch of hard work. We need something funny. *** How does one forgive oneself for having been shunned? I thought bout that one alot last night, when I couldn't sleep. How does one forgive the deceitful ridicule in: "What would Cedar do?" Or the arrogance in: "I walk with the Lord." I don't know. roar I don't know. Yes. But in perceiving attack [I]and to that very degree[/I], we are seeing through our shame bases. We should be able to stay centered, to stay in balance. Like my most recent mom, Dr. Ben Carson. I love the way he stays present, that he doesn't rattle easily, that he isn't arrogant because life is a serious gift and respect is a serious thing for each of us and yet, he is so easily funny, so easy in his skin. This does not mean the decision to fight for ourselves is incorrect. That we do it, that we recognize where we are and respond to it ~ that is a win in itself, for us. It's how we do it; how we guide ourselves through it. Blessed with the intelligence to recognize what is being keyed without being overwhelmed by it...that is the difficult part, for us. Learning to respond easily and well will involve ~ I think it will involve ~ listening for our negative tapes in anxiety-provoking situations. I remember when I first began thinking, "That'll do, pig." I thought it was funny, and it was in a way. As I healed further, I recognized how sad it was that I was saying those words to myself. In a way, I was saying to myself, "Who do you think you are?" Still, it was better than the hateful things running through on those unheard negative tapes. This process will probably work something like that, too. We are learning. Mistakes are just fine. Are beautifully fine things for us to learn from, but never to condemn ourselves with. That would be a good way to begin, I think. What to do about that shame base.... Well, I don't know. Be aware of it, listen to the tone and the words, if we can get them. Character development figures in here as a guide, maybe. I keep coming back to that phrase. I don't know why that is. Maybe, character formation legitimizes what we are about here in a way clearing the shame base does not. There is something here about having healed enough to begin building, maybe. This is human; this is how it was always supposed to be, in all of our lives. The mercy of true things. I think those contorted, ambivalent, bitter feelings may be the energies fueling the shame base. That is the roaring, fiery energy we are using to condemn ourselves until we focus it appropriately. What I have found is that once I do roar on for awhile, the anger is just gone. It's as though I can see where it was. The memory of it holds no charge, all at once. Beneath, there is the pain, that sort of dull sadness, that is the feel of trauma over time. I have been troubled by those kinds of feelings for two days. I awakened in the night with such sadness, with such a sense of the dull ugliness of it all. This usually means I am between times. Healing doesn't mean we get a blaze of energy or everything changes to sparkly. Sometimes, it is this dull feeling of disbelief and sorrow for what it's been, and for everything it wasn't. Find and focus and free those feelings, Copa. They are the stolen parts of you. They are your energies by right. Reclaim them. The sisters have nothing to do with it. Your response was perfect, Copa. The first triumph, for us, is that response was made. We will arrive at that place where response is perfect, [I]in our own eyes[/I], which will be internal locus of control, in time. The basis of the anger I feel in the present Copa, is the time wasted. Is the vulnerability, and the pointless fear, in my life; is the bravery squandered mounting defense to family patterns of deceit, and viciousness, and trickery. It is as D H says: What might you have done, had you focused your attention on something other than trying to fit in to your family. They have hurt and weakened and sold me before, Copa. What hurts me about it now is seeing that they've done it routinely, in every smallest thing. roar It would never have been vanilla goodness for us, Copa. [I]They hurt that standard of vanilla goodness into us. [/I]We were so sure we were wrong, so sure that what we deserved was what was left. Did this make us strong, Copa...or were we always strong. And was our strength squandered, on them. But again, I am the one who kept looking back. Like Lot's wife. *** So, Joseph. Not some paragon of virtue, but a practical man. Maybe, he wept for the ugliness of the brothers because at long last, he understood he was nothing like them. Maybe, he finally was able to let go of those fearsome questions having to do with how not to be them, with how not to be like them. Joseph had all the power. He had accomplished beauty for ashes. Yet, he did not require vengeance. That is when he knew. He was not like them; he did not require vengeance, nor did he harbor bitterness. His gentleness or candor or strength ~ his character, Copa and Serenity ~ these were not matters of circumstance. He was free. Perhaps he was weeping in gratitude for that freedom. Note that it did not come to Joseph until he knew, beyond any smallest doubt, not who they were, but who he was. In letting go of vengeance, in choosing instead to hold faith with himself and his God even after the brothers tried, one last time, to deceive him with the forged letter from the father, Joseph pronounced his own name; pronounced the secret name he named himself, that no one else hears. That could be a description of internal locus of control, or of certainty of character. There is a story, I've forgotten the title, but I think it was an Orson Scott Card. In it, those whose destiny it was to be sold into slavery created dolls out of little twists of hair and knots of thread. Naming the twists of thread and hair with their secret names, those to be enslaved passed the threads to an old woman, strangely dressed and waiting, as each was herded toward the auction block. She caught them, every one, and kept them safe, weaving them together into a multicolored ball she hung from the rafters to catch the wind. The threads carried the enslaved person's rage, and anger, and lust of freedom, and pride, and everything having to do with dignity and soul. One night, the wind rose and rose. Howling through the rafters where the balls of multicolored twists of thread and hair hung from blackened chains, it tore the threads loose. Catching the wind, drawn by the hair woven into the twists, the threads found and re-ensouled those enslaved. Suddenly not able to tolerate lives without freedom or dignity, the enslaved revolted and fought for and won their freedom. It was some time of adjustment, before those formerly enslaved understood and incorporated their spirits easily and completely, with grace and with confident trust. They had been so long enslaved. Many did not remember how to be free. *** Yes, I agree, Copa. Thank you both, Copa and Serenity. And thank you also to those who created and maintain this site, and who allowed and encouraged the creation of the Family of Origins threads. We deeply appreciate your having welcomed and supported us, runawaybunny. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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