091230 06:09
If you read what I write that is wonderful. Think notes folded and flown from the prison of time. And this is a preface to the next three postings in chronological sequence Julian Date System:
year, month, day then the hour of day.
091227
091228
091229
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
If I did it, so can you.
091227 19:36
Periodically I fall into a bottomless well concerned that I have gone, and lead you, astray.
I am a passionately political animal. In Junior High School, Riverside, Connecticut, I led the Republican half of all debates until our Social Studies teacher took me aside to answer a question. “There are many things I cannot teach due to parental pressure and restrictions.“
My interest in politics and news events disappeared.
I read many resources, mostly alternative to commercial broadcasts, and listen to National Public Radio--sometimes consistently, and at other times I fall to weeping and don’t return for days. I have made of myself a television virgin, not having or viewing one for three years.
That said, I am now moving into an arena of the eternal versus temporal.
I enjoy writing about the options available to everyone having discovered them in my self and the simple, yet profound truth that I have been saved from insanity, as defined by Albert Einstein; “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
We, as children, love our parents regardless their choice, behavior and what they tell us to do in life. It has taken me many loses, not the least being my children, to fully apprehend the intention of parenthood; to enable the child to survive in a cruel and indifferent world.
My focus in this case is for those of use who received negatives instead of positive attention: abuse instead of love.
We are a people of significant gifts buried beneath lies bequeathed to us from our parents legacy received from theirs. In the past twenty-four hours I have been lead to understand most of the specifics as described in current psychological research.
I was addicted to dysfunctional relationships; starting with my parents. Initially the sense I now see myself in past choices to fulfill what was implied by their abandonment, rejection and teaching me exactly how incompetent and unworthy of their love they saw me as being.
I have had many dreams that, seen in retrospect, now make perfect sense. And I know, we all dream, both in sleep and life. And in most part retain conclusions drawn from those painful encounters with authority. Worse, we seek partners who replicate our parents dysfunctions and attempt to heal people by helping them cross streets they don’t want to cross. Then, when children result biologically or adopted we do to them what was done to us, knowing nothing better to address the inevitable issues and trials life and death; theirs or ours.
What I suggest is a simple, safe, personal, free healing that is available to everyone. It starts by listening to yourself independent the approval or censure of others.
We are a powerful people and our love is valuable to all others since we are persistent and obviously loyal. But our loyalty is misdirected to parents who no long are present and our lives gone awry because of their teachings.
Using myself, as I am now, I realize, accept and celebrate that I entered my whole life, becoming judge, jury, advocate and execute my daily life free, forgiving and loving both myself and my parents.
If I did it, so can you.
Periodically I fall into a bottomless well concerned that I have gone, and lead you, astray.
I am a passionately political animal. In Junior High School, Riverside, Connecticut, I led the Republican half of all debates until our Social Studies teacher took me aside to answer a question. “There are many things I cannot teach due to parental pressure and restrictions.“
My interest in politics and news events disappeared.
I read many resources, mostly alternative to commercial broadcasts, and listen to National Public Radio--sometimes consistently, and at other times I fall to weeping and don’t return for days. I have made of myself a television virgin, not having or viewing one for three years.
That said, I am now moving into an arena of the eternal versus temporal.
I enjoy writing about the options available to everyone having discovered them in my self and the simple, yet profound truth that I have been saved from insanity, as defined by Albert Einstein; “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
We, as children, love our parents regardless their choice, behavior and what they tell us to do in life. It has taken me many loses, not the least being my children, to fully apprehend the intention of parenthood; to enable the child to survive in a cruel and indifferent world.
My focus in this case is for those of use who received negatives instead of positive attention: abuse instead of love.
We are a people of significant gifts buried beneath lies bequeathed to us from our parents legacy received from theirs. In the past twenty-four hours I have been lead to understand most of the specifics as described in current psychological research.
I was addicted to dysfunctional relationships; starting with my parents. Initially the sense I now see myself in past choices to fulfill what was implied by their abandonment, rejection and teaching me exactly how incompetent and unworthy of their love they saw me as being.
I have had many dreams that, seen in retrospect, now make perfect sense. And I know, we all dream, both in sleep and life. And in most part retain conclusions drawn from those painful encounters with authority. Worse, we seek partners who replicate our parents dysfunctions and attempt to heal people by helping them cross streets they don’t want to cross. Then, when children result biologically or adopted we do to them what was done to us, knowing nothing better to address the inevitable issues and trials life and death; theirs or ours.
What I suggest is a simple, safe, personal, free healing that is available to everyone. It starts by listening to yourself independent the approval or censure of others.
We are a powerful people and our love is valuable to all others since we are persistent and obviously loyal. But our loyalty is misdirected to parents who no long are present and our lives gone awry because of their teachings.
Using myself, as I am now, I realize, accept and celebrate that I entered my whole life, becoming judge, jury, advocate and execute my daily life free, forgiving and loving both myself and my parents.
If I did it, so can you.
. . . sustain life itself
091228 04:48
Life’s primary concern is to sustain life itself. We are limited to vocational education dealing with this problem or “how to do it.” We all want safety, security, to be warm in winter and cool in summer for ourselves individually. Obviously we need fuel called food.
We achieve this at a cost since the world is not convenient to our needs between it’s seasons and extreme variations within any one season. It was here long before we appeared. What we are a flash of light compared to an ‘eternity’ of darkness.
Consider yourself as one of the greatest predators in our brief history upon this planet. Balance that between what you want and what you need. There can be a personal balance between these two apposing elements of our lives. Add to that, we tend to be unconscious of the conflict and meaning of either definition: want; need.
Additionally we use words and concepts regarding our perception and experience. The variations of our common life origins define our culture and civilization. There is no common agreement regarding life’s purpose, value and or meaning.
We are born, we live and then we die. The first and the last is the same for all of us. The middle part is where we get into trouble considering “want & need.”
Reductive consciousness teaches me that life is best examined in poverty. Life goes on with/without all the culture/civilization issues and will continue long after I depart.
The more attention I pay to the poor the simpler life becomes.
We are born and die alone. The middle part, short/long, is defined by our relationships and our choices acted out in every moment of our lives. Poverty has taught me that we are just fine and provided for in the basics. Yet we remain essentially very primitive perceptually anticipating threats when there are none, or at the very worst fewer fears than we need pay attention to on a 24/7 365 basis.
Life’s primary concern is to sustain life itself. We are limited to vocational education dealing with this problem or “how to do it.” We all want safety, security, to be warm in winter and cool in summer for ourselves individually. Obviously we need fuel called food.
We achieve this at a cost since the world is not convenient to our needs between it’s seasons and extreme variations within any one season. It was here long before we appeared. What we are a flash of light compared to an ‘eternity’ of darkness.
Consider yourself as one of the greatest predators in our brief history upon this planet. Balance that between what you want and what you need. There can be a personal balance between these two apposing elements of our lives. Add to that, we tend to be unconscious of the conflict and meaning of either definition: want; need.
Additionally we use words and concepts regarding our perception and experience. The variations of our common life origins define our culture and civilization. There is no common agreement regarding life’s purpose, value and or meaning.
We are born, we live and then we die. The first and the last is the same for all of us. The middle part is where we get into trouble considering “want & need.”
Reductive consciousness teaches me that life is best examined in poverty. Life goes on with/without all the culture/civilization issues and will continue long after I depart.
The more attention I pay to the poor the simpler life becomes.
We are born and die alone. The middle part, short/long, is defined by our relationships and our choices acted out in every moment of our lives. Poverty has taught me that we are just fine and provided for in the basics. Yet we remain essentially very primitive perceptually anticipating threats when there are none, or at the very worst fewer fears than we need pay attention to on a 24/7 365 basis.
Looking back, at now and forward . . .
091229 14:34
Life for me draws near its close. Looking back, at now and forward, I wonder why I write. I was told for most of my life I was, ‘too stupid to get in out of the rain’, and well I remember begging my mother for permission to write. She finally said, “you don’t need my permission.” That gift was near the very last days of her life.
Our relationship continues; where she once hurled me nude from her home, I now carry her adored in my arms to God & Heaven. My mercy & forgiveness granted.
At that time I was conscious of a savage rage against her imprecations/maledictions.
Her behaviors were worse. And dear old dad said nothing but watched, indifferent, in silence, mute. Abandonment and rejection were my lot in life.
Throughout my life nightmares were few, far apart, and now seen as gifts, as I do my being taught to stand and, not take it, but deliver love far better than I received.
I define my life now as magnificent and rich beyond counting. Suffocated with values I would share explicitly with those of us who were broken beneath the wheel and drown in sorrows.
The description has no prescription. I am confident since I spoke it too often to be surprised its repetition from those I speak with seeking alternatives, through addictions, perversions and pleasures inimical to themselves and all life in others.
I write because I love doing it. It is an active form of prayer discovered in my silent plea for mother to love herself while destroying me. As the age of majority arrived, my violence less well hidden, the beatings stopped but the pain and depression continued until too recently for full understanding and acceptance.
If I speak of, and to, God as friend then I obviously find no Religion or Government adequate the dialog. Communication can be communion with Love sustained. I am not Jesus, or the Anti-Christ, merely a soul who longs, upon the evidence of lives I touch, to heal them yet filled with brokenness the power to miraculously do so. Where Jesus had a bruised reed scepter mine was, long ago, dissolved in tears, not reed, but water.
I am a river stone unbroken, polished smooth, by eons of time speaking before language.
I see this kernel in everyone regardless of all qualifications wealth, poverty, creed or color. Knowing that their protests against others as their projections of fear and guilt. I am saved and know that all can be so; if only they, or we together, take the first step forward to inhabit now and seek a future in love accepting all our faceted diversities, time forgiven/forgotten.
Life for me draws near its close. Looking back, at now and forward, I wonder why I write. I was told for most of my life I was, ‘too stupid to get in out of the rain’, and well I remember begging my mother for permission to write. She finally said, “you don’t need my permission.” That gift was near the very last days of her life.
Our relationship continues; where she once hurled me nude from her home, I now carry her adored in my arms to God & Heaven. My mercy & forgiveness granted.
At that time I was conscious of a savage rage against her imprecations/maledictions.
Her behaviors were worse. And dear old dad said nothing but watched, indifferent, in silence, mute. Abandonment and rejection were my lot in life.
Throughout my life nightmares were few, far apart, and now seen as gifts, as I do my being taught to stand and, not take it, but deliver love far better than I received.
I define my life now as magnificent and rich beyond counting. Suffocated with values I would share explicitly with those of us who were broken beneath the wheel and drown in sorrows.
The description has no prescription. I am confident since I spoke it too often to be surprised its repetition from those I speak with seeking alternatives, through addictions, perversions and pleasures inimical to themselves and all life in others.
I write because I love doing it. It is an active form of prayer discovered in my silent plea for mother to love herself while destroying me. As the age of majority arrived, my violence less well hidden, the beatings stopped but the pain and depression continued until too recently for full understanding and acceptance.
If I speak of, and to, God as friend then I obviously find no Religion or Government adequate the dialog. Communication can be communion with Love sustained. I am not Jesus, or the Anti-Christ, merely a soul who longs, upon the evidence of lives I touch, to heal them yet filled with brokenness the power to miraculously do so. Where Jesus had a bruised reed scepter mine was, long ago, dissolved in tears, not reed, but water.
I am a river stone unbroken, polished smooth, by eons of time speaking before language.
I see this kernel in everyone regardless of all qualifications wealth, poverty, creed or color. Knowing that their protests against others as their projections of fear and guilt. I am saved and know that all can be so; if only they, or we together, take the first step forward to inhabit now and seek a future in love accepting all our faceted diversities, time forgiven/forgotten.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
. . . cracked pavement of our neglected pathways
091226 17:32
Isolation, myopia and suicide are epidemic. Growing worse, devastating families, economies and governments, at a fantastic pace.
There are signs of justice and peace emerging within the cracked pavement of our neglected pathways to the future.
Our government is littered with ambition to be remembered, and reelected, for remarkable projects bearing the names of vanity. At the same time the moral and ethical fabric, or infrastructure, is lost in riotous shouting matches--seeking personal attention and celebrity.
Ordinary, everyday civilians, people who vote, regardless what is on the platform--tragedy or catastrophe--are voting with our wallets and feet.
Issues addressed from either side, Democrat or Republican, are not adjudicated with dispassion or a balanced concern for the majority. Or future of our Nation. Special, vested, interests rule and we all suffer the consequence.
These are temporal issues manifest with an eternal aftermath. The world itself suffers and apparently--perhaps--maybe not--convulses as we die, or kill ourselves, from essential needs ignored indifferently for the profit of those greedy for power.
What profit is expected of a parent who abuses a child? It seems, in my case to have been, by my father’s admission; “I didn’t know any better--or differently.” I have, on video tape, his volunteered confession that I, “was in the way” when I queried my placement with a grandparent at age five for a year and every subsequent summer thereafter until age thirteen when I was used as a worker in the family business.
I have no interest in, nor do I advocate, legal redress, or any new laws; since these events are daily and hidden; as covert as the vested interest molesting our future.
Institutionalization of personal agenda and ambition is obvious in a dysfunctional individual yet celebrated on a corporate level politically.
There is no ‘quick fix’ to repair the difficulties caused by drug or power addiction. There remains a process, once begun gathers momentum to empower individuals to live free productive lives and have healthy family relationships. Lamentably we are a goal oriented society ignoring historical process. Do not seek instant gratification but make the first step towards a real life lived, not one simply endured, or survived.
Strong individuals make a strong society and civilization, slaves make obscene profits for the few.
I think we can live in hope of a better today and tomorrow.
Isolation, myopia and suicide are epidemic. Growing worse, devastating families, economies and governments, at a fantastic pace.
There are signs of justice and peace emerging within the cracked pavement of our neglected pathways to the future.
Our government is littered with ambition to be remembered, and reelected, for remarkable projects bearing the names of vanity. At the same time the moral and ethical fabric, or infrastructure, is lost in riotous shouting matches--seeking personal attention and celebrity.
Ordinary, everyday civilians, people who vote, regardless what is on the platform--tragedy or catastrophe--are voting with our wallets and feet.
Issues addressed from either side, Democrat or Republican, are not adjudicated with dispassion or a balanced concern for the majority. Or future of our Nation. Special, vested, interests rule and we all suffer the consequence.
These are temporal issues manifest with an eternal aftermath. The world itself suffers and apparently--perhaps--maybe not--convulses as we die, or kill ourselves, from essential needs ignored indifferently for the profit of those greedy for power.
What profit is expected of a parent who abuses a child? It seems, in my case to have been, by my father’s admission; “I didn’t know any better--or differently.” I have, on video tape, his volunteered confession that I, “was in the way” when I queried my placement with a grandparent at age five for a year and every subsequent summer thereafter until age thirteen when I was used as a worker in the family business.
I have no interest in, nor do I advocate, legal redress, or any new laws; since these events are daily and hidden; as covert as the vested interest molesting our future.
Institutionalization of personal agenda and ambition is obvious in a dysfunctional individual yet celebrated on a corporate level politically.
There is no ‘quick fix’ to repair the difficulties caused by drug or power addiction. There remains a process, once begun gathers momentum to empower individuals to live free productive lives and have healthy family relationships. Lamentably we are a goal oriented society ignoring historical process. Do not seek instant gratification but make the first step towards a real life lived, not one simply endured, or survived.
Strong individuals make a strong society and civilization, slaves make obscene profits for the few.
I think we can live in hope of a better today and tomorrow.
. . . justifiable anger, compelling my choice to “go-along-to-get-along.”
091226 20:21
I identify with poverty since I am impoverished and made poor by the wealthy.
I identify with the poor since I know the reality of their honesty and hard labor; former, present and future.
Moreover I identify with the broken, mentally ill and know their too few resources growing smaller and less daily. The examples are wandering America’s once “Streets of Gold” homeless.
Why?
Mental Health Issues uninsured and never addressed adequately for those returned from war; just one glaring example. The “War on Drugs” could not exist without customers. Why not attempt to heal the need rather than kill the providers?
Again and again I see political expediency showboating, obvious, yet futile efforts at enormous expense and profit to a few individuals, corporations and institutions against the even greater profit of drug cartels and pharmaceutical monopolies.
It was not until in poverty and taking a chance I stopped taking psychotropic drugs for a misdiagnosed mental health issue: being bipolar.
I have no recourse. I was complicit for codependent issues, justifiable anger, compelling my choice to “go-along-to-get-along.”
I can no longer advocate a ‘religious’ or ‘governmental’ solution since I conclude they are the problem and offer no solutions on an individual basis.
We must do this for ourselves one-by-one. The effort grows two-by-two, four-by-four, onward.
Random acts of human kindness go a long way towards healing and replacing all that has been taken from us.
In the end I believe the meek will inherit the earth.
. . . and we are legion and intend no harm.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Introjection
I identify with poverty since I am impoverished and made poor by the wealthy.
I identify with the poor since I know the reality of their honesty and hard labor; former, present and future.
Moreover I identify with the broken, mentally ill and know their too few resources growing smaller and less daily. The examples are wandering America’s once “Streets of Gold” homeless.
Why?
Mental Health Issues uninsured and never addressed adequately for those returned from war; just one glaring example. The “War on Drugs” could not exist without customers. Why not attempt to heal the need rather than kill the providers?
Again and again I see political expediency showboating, obvious, yet futile efforts at enormous expense and profit to a few individuals, corporations and institutions against the even greater profit of drug cartels and pharmaceutical monopolies.
It was not until in poverty and taking a chance I stopped taking psychotropic drugs for a misdiagnosed mental health issue: being bipolar.
I have no recourse. I was complicit for codependent issues, justifiable anger, compelling my choice to “go-along-to-get-along.”
I can no longer advocate a ‘religious’ or ‘governmental’ solution since I conclude they are the problem and offer no solutions on an individual basis.
We must do this for ourselves one-by-one. The effort grows two-by-two, four-by-four, onward.
Random acts of human kindness go a long way towards healing and replacing all that has been taken from us.
In the end I believe the meek will inherit the earth.
. . . and we are legion and intend no harm.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Introjection
. . . coal in your stocking for . . . Christmas
091226 13:16
“A Hard Candy . . . an Orange, or coal in your stocking for . . . Christmas“ it goes on-and-on.
. . . response to random insights Christmas Day:
I want to narrow my focus to people in trouble. Who isn’t?
Specifically I am, at the moment, concerned for people like me, boys & girls, women & men, for whom Christmas was a disappointment for most of their lives. For me, this celebration was dominated by savage suicidal depression. I have a number a statistics, personal and world-wide, to rationalize my negative mood. Yet buried within myself are several exceptional scenarios of surprise and delight. Which, when, and if, they were remembered, saved my day & life.
Think of Sunday, in the backseat--family car---do people do that these days? Multiply fifty-two times infinity, remembering when you waited patiently for “it to be over” and that was my Christmas for sixty-eight years.
“Are we there yet?”
Was met with violence--physical or emotional--to myself and/or sister.
I personally, have no time, left in my life, to write all the poems, novels, movies and plays potential in my negative memories. I am too conscious of those children we seldom hear about beaten to death yesterday or maybe the lucky ones who weren’t otherwise hurled from speeding cars, abandoned or simply burned alive, or drown.
My son died December 10th, 1976.
My grandfather killed himself with a shotgun blast to the groin, at or around the same time, years before, then bleeding out over a period of ten or more days afterwards.
My very best Christmas, before yesterday, was as a volunteer for a suicide intervention ‘hot line.’ It was a bit like giving a child a magnificently wrapped gift, having that child tear open the box, discard the wrapping, take one look at the surprise, lay it aside and then spend the rest of the day playing with the box.
Co-Dependency is a problem, and solution, that applies to my current stability, sanity and celebration of all life--now--including Christmas, yesterday.
No one is asking me to repay my gratitude for 12 Step Programs but I feel it important “to pay my dues” in thanksgiving thus attempt making healing available for others who suffer.
. . . Christmas Day
1.) Stockholm Syndrome became conscious to me.
2.) I had a savage and terrifying dream rendering me estranged & disabled from all love and peace; present, past, future.
3.) While recording the specifics of my ‘nightmare’ I became aware of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy -- Fabricated or induced illness (FII)
. . . There is no resource available to people who refuse to enter into their FEELINGS. Many choose addiction to alcohol, drugs, sex, crime, gambling, eating; the list is overwhelming--instead.
. . . Avarice is the opposite extreme of addictions listed above; celebrated, emulated and ‘worshiped’ as demonstrated; our current “Religion & Governance.”
I am in love with women, and long for them . . . well . . . one; actually. But sexual intimacy is impossible between us. Off the table, and not on the menu. I am aware of their abuse by other men before me; father, brother, uncle, sons--'husband(s).'
Men, generally never grow to maturity, emotionally or spiritually, and we are viciously greedy to use women. It is not penetrative sex exclusively--but inappropriate attention does the same thing--enslaving women, making them cripples and victims forever.
I will close here and do more research.
I'll get back to you with this closing observation/conclusion:
To make love with another soul, heart, mind is gratification raised to the third power & Higher.
“A Hard Candy . . . an Orange, or coal in your stocking for . . . Christmas“ it goes on-and-on.
. . . response to random insights Christmas Day:
I want to narrow my focus to people in trouble. Who isn’t?
Specifically I am, at the moment, concerned for people like me, boys & girls, women & men, for whom Christmas was a disappointment for most of their lives. For me, this celebration was dominated by savage suicidal depression. I have a number a statistics, personal and world-wide, to rationalize my negative mood. Yet buried within myself are several exceptional scenarios of surprise and delight. Which, when, and if, they were remembered, saved my day & life.
Think of Sunday, in the backseat--family car---do people do that these days? Multiply fifty-two times infinity, remembering when you waited patiently for “it to be over” and that was my Christmas for sixty-eight years.
“Are we there yet?”
Was met with violence--physical or emotional--to myself and/or sister.
I personally, have no time, left in my life, to write all the poems, novels, movies and plays potential in my negative memories. I am too conscious of those children we seldom hear about beaten to death yesterday or maybe the lucky ones who weren’t otherwise hurled from speeding cars, abandoned or simply burned alive, or drown.
My son died December 10th, 1976.
My grandfather killed himself with a shotgun blast to the groin, at or around the same time, years before, then bleeding out over a period of ten or more days afterwards.
My very best Christmas, before yesterday, was as a volunteer for a suicide intervention ‘hot line.’ It was a bit like giving a child a magnificently wrapped gift, having that child tear open the box, discard the wrapping, take one look at the surprise, lay it aside and then spend the rest of the day playing with the box.
Co-Dependency is a problem, and solution, that applies to my current stability, sanity and celebration of all life--now--including Christmas, yesterday.
No one is asking me to repay my gratitude for 12 Step Programs but I feel it important “to pay my dues” in thanksgiving thus attempt making healing available for others who suffer.
. . . Christmas Day
1.) Stockholm Syndrome became conscious to me.
2.) I had a savage and terrifying dream rendering me estranged & disabled from all love and peace; present, past, future.
3.) While recording the specifics of my ‘nightmare’ I became aware of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy -- Fabricated or induced illness (FII)
. . . There is no resource available to people who refuse to enter into their FEELINGS. Many choose addiction to alcohol, drugs, sex, crime, gambling, eating; the list is overwhelming--instead.
. . . Avarice is the opposite extreme of addictions listed above; celebrated, emulated and ‘worshiped’ as demonstrated; our current “Religion & Governance.”
I am in love with women, and long for them . . . well . . . one; actually. But sexual intimacy is impossible between us. Off the table, and not on the menu. I am aware of their abuse by other men before me; father, brother, uncle, sons--'husband(s).'
Men, generally never grow to maturity, emotionally or spiritually, and we are viciously greedy to use women. It is not penetrative sex exclusively--but inappropriate attention does the same thing--enslaving women, making them cripples and victims forever.
I will close here and do more research.
I'll get back to you with this closing observation/conclusion:
To make love with another soul, heart, mind is gratification raised to the third power & Higher.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)