Misunderstood
“I’ve been misunderstood for all of my life but what they’re sayin, girl, just cuts like a knife… ‘The boy’s no good.’”
Neil Diamond
Lazy, irresponsible, self-centered, manipulative…
Yeah, that was me, thirty years ago, late teens, early twenties. Not good, but not so unusual for guy that age. At twenty one I married, under threat of her suicide (this threat would hang over our relationship for the duration), a slightly older woman who was all these things and so very much more, so much worse and deeply so. I “grew up” quickly in the fiery crucible that was our relationship. I became the opposite of all her evil qualities, as she viciously attacked in me all the things she hated about herself. She demanded absolute honesty and fidelity, down to the flicker of an eyelid as she compulsively lied and had numerous affairs with persons of both sexes. She was totally self-centered; I became giving, forgiving and so empathetic as to be lost in the other. Patience, responsibility, accountability, courage, endurance, the list goes on; all taught by intense, minute, daily faultfinding, as I came to call it. Were I found to be at all imperfect, which I, of course, always was, she would unleash hours, days, of vitriol. Outside the crucible, in the real world I became a model employee and citizen, always well respected, though too perfectionistic, and always excelled at any job I took. Unfortunately, I “grew up” out of site of my family as my wife and I had fled my hometown leaving financial, emotional, and moral devastation behind. For the next twelve years or so I saw very little of my family. In our typical, though gender reversed, abusive relationship, my wife cut me off from all but her approved circle, which constantly changed. It was often just the two of us as she focused all her considerable energy on making my life quite literally a living hell. The only contact I usually had with family was when she had somehow depleted all my hard-earned money, (she worked only sporadically) meddled in my workplace so much I got fired, laid off, or she made it so unbearable with her maniacal manipulation and jealousy that I quit (I quit spontaneously only once, early on); or she would have to move on, claiming wanderlust but probably in some sort of trouble. She would force me to give notice and we would pack up, move and land someplace new, with little or no cash. I would then be forced to call my father and ask for money. This would be the only contact I had with him for months at a time, so it is understandable that his already low opinion of me would be perpetuated. Repeat scenario once, twice, three times a year for over a decade until she literally drove me mad. Psychotic, twice in one year, eventual diagnosis: schizoaffective disorder. We had landed near her hometown, she found another foe, and she simply let me go. I quickly blossomed. To make a long story a bit shorter, I thrived for nearly a decade, remarried, a very good woman, but my illness (delusions, depression, anxiety, and most importantly voices; which more or less controlled my life for about sixteen years) gradually worsened under the stress of “recovered memories” of childhood sexual abuse. “Memories” of horrific SRA, by a group working for the same national road construction company my father worked for at the time. I wrote a letter about it to all my immediate family and, typically, met with a wall of silence; with the exception of my older brother’s wife, a surgical nurse practitioner and matriarch in training (I actually like and respect her very much, she simply does not know me well yet has very strong opinions about who I am, a surprisingly common phenomena in my life) who, though she did not meet my brother until approximately fifteen years after the supposed events, categorically denied they could have happened. During this period my wife began communicating quite a bit with my family. [I now doubt the bulk of the “memories but am certain I was sexually abused at least several times as a child.] My marriage deteriorated, we separated, then reconciled but with no real resolution of issues. The marriage was shattered when I had an affair my voices guided me into. (I must accept complicity to a point, but I was living removed from reality by then.) The separation and divorce and guilt drove me mad again but this time a sustained hypo manic state, which lasted over a year. The credibility with my family I built over my brief “stable” period, shaken by the “memories”, was shattered by my behavior post divorce. To them it was the same old me, lazy, irresponsible, etc. And I must admit, to anyone who did not know me well, like my family, this could be a realistic view.
Interestingly, this idea was reinforced by my then relatively new psychiatric provider, a nurse practitioner working for the state and my counselor, a burned out MSW also working for the state. This counselor had early on in our relationship admitted to me that the state was “getting out of the mental health business”. Cutting back services, staff and forcing clientele to seek private services. This nurse practitioner changed my diagnosis from schizoaffective disorder to a personality disorder (exactly which one was never made clear to me). Which meant I required only minimal medication, I just needed to get my act together. Such had never, to my knowledge, even been considered before (seventeen years), and was scoffed at by the psychiatrist I saw when I left the state system, which anyone in town who could, did (mission accomplished?). She reduced my medications during this incredibly stressful period (right after the separation) and I promptly became even more delusional, the voices multiplied and became stronger. I became unable to work. I began writing long, rambling emails and letters to my mother and father. I asked for and got well over ten thousand dollars during this period from my mother. It was all spent on bills and necessities, contrary to anyone’s opinion. Where I got in trouble was the money ran out but I believed I had a nearly unlimited supply. The checks started bouncing and rebouncing everywhere, I ran out of credit and food and finally wrote a mostly coherent letter to my mother describing my situation. A “family meeting” (first of its kind) was called, releases of info signed and mailed. This “family meeting”, which only half of my immediate family attended, was convened in the state offices in the city I then lived in with my counselor present. One issue was a very bizarre request I won’t go into here, it is discussed elsewhere in my writings; which was flatly denied and rightly so. But for me this meeting was a disaster on myriad different levels, my dignity, my point of view, my veracity, my very life story was discounted by all. They professed love but refused any respect or trust. Once again, my much respected and loved sister in law did much of the talking, being the resident authority (she did have some experience and education in mental health, how much I don’t know), and disrespected me on several levels. My counselor felt it was a great success. There were promises of support and communication. Neither materialized, with the exception of my mother. My relationship with my counselor, which had never been very good, deteriorated. He had always been cynical and sarcastic, he became more so. He seemed to lose all respect and trust and offered no real council. I stopped seeing him recently as well.
Were my family to speak with anyone who knew me, anyone who worked with me or for me over the last twenty-nine years (the time since I permanently left our hometown) in a half dozen cities scattered over three states, anyone in my church of nearly twenty years, they would find I am very much respected, trusted and liked. Even in the city where I currently live, where my condition and much of my behavior is well known. My reputation before this debacle and subsequent integrity have overcome the stain of my recent disintegration. I have spoken openly about my illness and mental health in general in various forums, before university classes, a government inquiry, a mental health publication. I once had the privilege of being misquoted on the front page of the local newspaper, an article about a disabilities seminar in which I was a panelist/speaker.
I have received perhaps a dozen phone calls from my family in the two years since the meeting, with the exception of my mother. I have made numerous calls, many to voice mail, most not returned, I have been mysteriously hung up on at my older brother’s home several times. This brother has called me, sporadically, at least made an effort. Some members of my family have been in town and not contacted me. On my recent fiftieth birthday I received no calls, no cards, no letters, nothing from anyone in my family of origin or their families. My mother called and left a message the next day. A week later, a CD of photos from a recent family reunion was given to my by my older sister’s youngest daughter who is going to college here. We seldom speak. She is very busy. Over the years I have seldom acknowledged their birthdays either. But then I was not the one who pledged love and support so recently. My recent ex and her family had me over for BBQ and cake. They BBQ often on summer Sunday evenings as this was.
I have not been a good brother, a good son. But, contrary to what my family believes, I have been a person of uncommon integrity, a good person.
The preceding grew out of my need to explore a repressed anger I didn’t understand.
So, I am now stuck. My income is rigidly capped. I resort often to the pity of my mother for money to get through. I do not misspend my money. I often buy things for my grandsons, which they need, but their very limited, often irresponsible parents do not give them. Their grandmother, is overworked, and has lately become disgruntled, and resentful and thus sometimes disinterested with their daily needs.
Debt collectors hound me; I have no way to pay any more than I am now doing. If I show any more income than I currently do, not only will my SSD be cut off, but my wages will be attached. I will be unable to return to college in my present financial state. Nor will I be able to enter religious life, which remains a question before God, though I have been invited to join Ascension Priory near Jerome.
I could provide my family with several dozen references to support what I say. I give only two…
This “life” which I am stuck in is intolerable. Were I to declare bankruptcy part of my financial situation would be resolved. I have been asked, nearly begged, to take a weekend position doing maintenance and covering days off for the owner/managers (a longtime friend and his family who own a local restaurant also) of a restaurant in Issaquah, the nearest suburb of Seattle. I cannot take this job with my present vehicle in its present state, it would simply not hold up under the weekly 600-mile trek. This job is possible because I can work only 4 days a week at my present job, which I am committed to indefinitely for the sake of my former wife’s grandchildren, no blood or legal relationship. The Issaquah job can be paid in such a way as to not show up on my income.
Yes, I said intolerable. Without hope of relief. My situation is not the result of laziness, irresponsibility or an other character flaw, it is the result of delusion, and of voices I thought to be divine. I do not wish “to be taken care of”, one of the many degrading comments made during the “family” meeting. I had no such illusions, even in my delusion. On the contrary, as a male, I could at this moment got to at least two women here in … and be “taken care of” in grand style if I so chose. One is merely upper middle class, the other the wealthiest woman in town by her personal fortune, by her family fortune, which she is heir to; she is one of the wealthiest people in this state of wealthy people. She also happens to be very attractive, but married. I have had many such offers in my lifetime, none of which I took advantage of.
I request from my entire family $5500 to facilitate bankruptcy, cover bills about town bankruptcy will not include, and to upgrade my vehicle. I can supply receipts for all purchases and commercial payments upon request. Some debts are very personal and I will not request a receipt. I request this for the sake of my future, my sanity, my … family…at the very least.
Should my family be unwilling to do so. I shall no longer consider them my family and cut all ties. Including my Mother. Which would not be so different from the way it is now. With the exception of my Mother. But there is something important which she is not telling me. Perhaps nothing truly specific and concrete, but something. I sense it only in her, perhaps others also know something, some things I do not.
If, as has been so in the past, there is no response to this email, which I am sending to my mother only, for her distribution to the rest of my family, if there is no response or a negative response by Tuesday of next week, my family will no longer hear from me and may not know where I am.
Yes, this is drastic. I am stable at this time; this is not the product of delusion but of desperation and frustration and indignation and disability and, most of all, necessity. I have thoroughly exhausted all other appropriate avenues of attaining these funds. And I believe this to be the sort of thing families do. It shall be repaid in payments of approximately $100 a month, beginning when bankruptcy is resolved.
Mark
Note: my entire family, with the exception of myself, is at the very least, solidly upper middle class, a position which they have reached, in large part… by exploiting me.
I have, contrary to my empty “threat” contacted my family. I have received, so far, a net of $246.00. Less than I was receiving by begging my mother to help me. I have received, since reestablishing contact, received absolutely nothing, with the above noted exception. My entire family of origin has literally all my contact information, which has not changed in nearly 4 years. I can no longer afford any form of psychological counseling, with the possible exception of my former, sadistic, burned out, but beloved, state funded counselor. I am doing OK. I am now bombarded by near constant voices and grandiose delusions. I hold a position of responsibility at a social services corporation located in my present town of residence, where I have now lived for twenty years. I am paid $8.00 per hour for my services, my hours vary widely, my employer is well aware of my mental health history, and federal income cap. My finances are now entirely handled by a state appointed entity. I am unaware of how much money I actually receive for either wages or SSD benefits. I receive a weekly allowance of $125.00 (I have requested slightly more and received a net cut), with a $100.00 per month allowance for car insurance. My primary responsibility is behavior modification of my ex wife’s family residing here. My ex wife is a highly respected PhD psychologist with her own apparently thriving firm. In 1998 she requested and received some sort of legal control over the care of her two locally residing grandchildren whom I now provide services for. She seems to have largely removed herself from their care. She cares for them from @8:00 pm on Friday evenings until whenever her grandchildren call me the next day to pick them up. She has not spoken to me for several weeks, despite my efforts to contact her, both in person and by phone. She too has all my contact information. Recently, (less than two weeks ago) I was contacted by her grandchildren, from a public phone at the local outdoor swimming pool on the last day it was open to the general public. As I pulled into the parking lot the boy’s grandmother exited the parking lot rather quickly with her cell phone to her ear. The boys were unable to tell me just what was going on. They had no dry towels, nothing to eat or drink. There was a definite wind chill factor. The pool facility was nearly empty of patrons, I located only two other occupants of the pool, both roughly my charges’ age @11 (=/- 1.5 years) and two adolescents seemed to be wandering from the pool to the dressing room. The pool staff, all seemingly less than @ 25 years of age, were at their stations. I assisted my former wife’s grandchildren and the two children in hypothermia relief. We left within a half hour, shaking hands with the entrance/exit staff and thanking them for a job well done.
{Spell Check is at times illogical and not user friendly}
PS: During a State Health and Welfare investigation of her son’s home a few weekends ago (the two aforementioned grandchildren’s father and his wife (clinically depressed), all four developmentally delayed, all four with unspecified personality disorders, the older child with ADHD and the younger bipolar, perhaps antisocial) my ex wife could not be reached, though I called her personally and left an urgent message. Her son contacted me via his cell phone; which I provide for him on my plan, without charging him, and alerted me that a State Health and Welfare person had interviewed his wife earlier in the day with only the children present and another would soon be arriving. I do not know where he was but he generally works weekends and evenings maintaining lawns and is employed full time at the same firm where I work, @ 2.5 years my senior (his sons’ tell me he has recently been promoted and is now in some sort of supervisory capacity which I see little or no evidence of. They also tell me he is now “my boss”. He recently purchased, on his own credit (according to him), a new 2008 Dodge 1500 quad cab pickup, V8, PW, PD, CC, AC, CD, light weight towing package. I do not recall precisely when or where he contacted me, only that it was Saturday afternoon and I was quite busy, perhaps assisting a friend in a nearby town with renovation of his recently fire gutted home ($10.00/hr +meals. I have 25 years experience as a carpenter, 24.5 years journeyman level) I left carpentry @ 6 months ago to take my present position). I left whatever I was doing, calling my ex wife on the way (I admit my message was less than cordial), I stopped along the way to buy groceries for their refrigerator, (with my own funds, which were not claimed or reimbursed) which I knew to be usually quite empty by Friday. They receive allowance checks from the same state appointed entity as I do, I receive mine on Saturdays, I do not know when they receive theirs, I assumed Saturdays also. When I arrived a 30ish woman was already there, questioning my former stepson’s wife on the front porch, clipboard in hand, with the two children standing nearby, also on the porch. Neither my ex wife nor her son were present. I walked up with a ready-to-eat barbecued chicken in a plastic grocery bag in my hand. When I arrived on the porch, Rachel was crying, but the boys were smiling. The young woman was very polite and professional. She was an on call social worker for State Health and Welfare Child and Family services. Though I became rather emotional at one point, the visit went well. There were no adverse outcomes to my knowledge. My ex wife did not contact me, I called her after the meeting on the porch, apologized for my rudeness on the prior message, and told her the meeting went well. Her son arrived home @15 minutes after the social worker left. I believe this incident to be prior to the pool incidence. During the meeting I recommended Rachel be re evaluated for clinical depression, among several other suggestions, including a supervised (by the social worker) intervention with Rachel about her care of the home. To my knowledge I was in no way reimbursed for time or mileage.
Some time ago my employer’s representative called me on my cell phone and said, “The family doesn’t want you working with the boys anymore.”
Since that call my life has gone spinning out or control, I said I quit, gave a wee bit of advice as to how to revamp their system to comply with regulations and properly serve their clientele, and hung up I have heard from neither my former employer nor my sweet little boys since.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Misunderstood
Going through the ER, involuntarily, is not only the most traumatic of experiences a mental health patient can experience, it has the most far reaching of consequences, and is the most expensive. I believe there should be special protocals to gently bring a person in a mental health crisis to a mental health facility. If this proves impossible, then mental health professionals should be willing and able to go to the patients home and offer treatment which will enable the patient to either safely remain at home or safely, without mental or physical trauma, to go to a mental health facility. ER's can often be the most traumatic of places. Even if the local ER is a safe place, a person in mental crisis will most likely perceive going to the ER to be an extreme and fearful experience. Calling 911 ordinarily brings policemen, not mental health professionals, into the already unstable person's home, generally causing them to panic. Is it somehow Illegal to be in a mental health crisis? Then why are there cops every where? This person has probably done nothing illegal. How traumatic for him/her!
This is, quite simply, a tragic, traumatic thing to make both family/friends and the confused, and now terrified person to do.
We must stop making it illegal to be mentally ill, as it appears we do. We must stop treating a person with a broken heart/mind like they merely have a broken leg, or like they have done something wrong.
I know whereof I speak. I have been through the ER, been through both voluntary and involuntary commitment, been arrested and put in jail, having harmed neither myself or anyone else when all that is needed are special, gentle, professionally written protocals for handling persons in mental health crises. We now force these poor, confused people to say they want to hurt someone, just to get... what? Thrown in jail, sounds like they're are going to jail or some kind of lockup to me. At the very least could we send plain clothes policeman, the kind without all the guns and clubs,instead of the kind we see beating on people, shooting at people and arresting people, putting them in all kinds of lockups, the kind of "peace" officers we see on every TV in America.
The mentally ill are, generally, the most peaceful of people. The want to stay home and try to relax, or just take a walk, remember to take their pills right, to try to calm the chaos in their heart and soul and mind. And when things get a little scary, what can they do? What if its after Dr.'s hours, or on a weekend?
This is, quite simply, a tragic, traumatic thing to make both family/friends and the confused, and now terrified person to do.
We must stop making it illegal to be mentally ill, as it appears we do. We must stop treating a person with a broken heart/mind like they merely have a broken leg, or like they have done something wrong.
I know whereof I speak. I have been through the ER, been through both voluntary and involuntary commitment, been arrested and put in jail, having harmed neither myself or anyone else when all that is needed are special, gentle, professionally written protocals for handling persons in mental health crises. We now force these poor, confused people to say they want to hurt someone, just to get... what? Thrown in jail, sounds like they're are going to jail or some kind of lockup to me. At the very least could we send plain clothes policeman, the kind without all the guns and clubs,instead of the kind we see beating on people, shooting at people and arresting people, putting them in all kinds of lockups, the kind of "peace" officers we see on every TV in America.
The mentally ill are, generally, the most peaceful of people. The want to stay home and try to relax, or just take a walk, remember to take their pills right, to try to calm the chaos in their heart and soul and mind. And when things get a little scary, what can they do? What if its after Dr.'s hours, or on a weekend?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
treatise? or madness?
i preface the following statements by saying that i am not extraordinary in my abilities.
most people are capable of doing what i do, they are simply not aware of it.
i am, in a sense, not aware of much that i do
it is simply too much for the conscious mind too endure.
my mental health record is proof of that.
with maturity, however; has come a balance in and perspective on my mind.
i accept the fact that i have no control
all i can do is pray that my conscious acts are in tune with the divine that dwells in all of us
i share a common consciousness with everyone
the one thing that makes me different
is that when i am able to cooperate with that divine consciousness
really good things happen.
things that people want or don't want, expect or don't expect, things nobody heard of or hears of.
wonderful things,seen or unseen,
that probably wouldn't happen if i didn't link my conscious will
with the divine will.
all people of good conscience attempt to do this, and succeed up to a point
i am simply more successful because the barriers to my subconscious were long ago torn down.
i stress that i have no control.
should i attempt to do anything outside the divine will,
i take a step toward madness.
this is the necessary paradox.
if i attempt to take control i loose control of my mind.
it loses the tenuous hold it has on reality.
if i give up control i maintain my loosely held grip.
i feel, sense pressure, vibration, temperature, density and waves.
air pressure
sound waves
chemical makeup
I sense brain wave patterns
i read them as speech and emotions
i predict future events by sensing patterns in brain waves
of people involved in situations.
i am@89% accurate in predicting outcome of series of events
where conclusion is less than 40% arbitrary.
I assign values by comparing outcomes over time.
i do not forget.
I choose not to recall what is not relevant in my opinion.
this makes me look dumb but I think clearly.
I read subconscious thought. this often conflicts with conscious thought but generally coincides with behaviour as I see it.
my senses seem to perceive the ”real world” and the souls who occupy it
very differently than anyone I have ever met.
i cannot be certain as I can gain no perspective on this.
I am generally very objective.
my behavior therefore often runs counter to the conscious
and stated expectations of others.
I do, however; mesh very well with the deeper motivations and desires of others.
this is not always consciously appreciated
but is always subconsciously approved of.
this generally surfaces as respect of my position
if not conscious agreement.
i heal minds, hearts and relationships.
i also heal places and things.
this is all due to my ability to consciously and subconsciously
to cooperate with the spirit of God that dwells in all creation but mostly in the subconscious mind of man.
i gained this ability when i was subjected to satanic ritual
abuse as a child.
in order to survive the multi-level trauma,
my mind broke down the barriers between my subconscious mind and my conscious mind.
what once were a series of barriers to protect my conscious mind
is now a continuum that i slide precariously along.
what has saved me has been my Christian faith
and my Yaqui heritage.
the combination is not necessarily compatible but has sufficed.
i live.
cross dressing and dual sexuality is deeply ingrained in the Yaqui tradition going back at least to the aztecs
much of my crossdressing is of a ritual nature these days
involving healing of people, places or things.
or myself
all have spirit ,all need healing sometimes.
this does not conflict with my faith.
Jesus and the apostles drove demons from people, places, and things.
Jesus said those who had faith could do these things and many others.
he also said not to rejoice in such abilities but be happy that God loves you.
The Yaqui way is a facet of the Chistian jewel.
Yaqui give all things to the Maker
Yaqui do not question why
Yaqui accept all things, live in all worlds the same way,
walking with the Maker.
Some have perverted this to "new age"
this new thing is an old way of making a good thing bad.
take a good thing and take the Maker out of it and put man in his place.
then the good thing is bad.
i give all power, responsibility, and credit to the spirit of God.
i make few choices of my own and then only if the Lord makes me.
i turn all of my time, energy, even my body over to the spirit.
i constantly pray and test the spirit to be sure i am not misled.
Fourty five years of practice have made me very wary and expert.
i am not always conscious of the spiritual ramifications of my actions but i no longer doubt them.
a step here, a word there, a dance, a blow to a wall, a whistle, even a smile can all have consequences.
i no longer try to figure any of it out.
when i know i'm on track, i know.
but i know only approximately 8.25% of the time.
the rest of the time is Grace.
my mind records all sensory input
including weather patterns,
chemical breakdowns and thought patterns.
information deficits are self imposed
in order to better function.
i naturally retain too much to process.
it is overwhelming.
i see the consequences of most actions.
it is overwhelming.
at the age of thirteen i attempted to make myself deaf.
i aquired tinitus.i no longer have perfect pitch
i'm glad.
at the age of fifteen i cut off the tips of two fingers,
at the age of twenty seven, the tip of my thumb.
i have also built up heavy calouses on my hands.
i now have 32% less sensory input from my hands.
i'm glad.
i don't see as well as i used to.
17% less useable visual input.
OK
processing is 8% slower
don't care
29.5 pounds over optimum weight
too bad
i can manipulate my metabolism, body chemistry, etc.
by diet, activity level, light exposure, etc.
so what.
i'm pretty much just an average guy
with a terrible gift
that up to now has done him no good.
God willing, things will be different now.
sensory input now equals capacity.
thank God.
most people are capable of doing what i do, they are simply not aware of it.
i am, in a sense, not aware of much that i do
it is simply too much for the conscious mind too endure.
my mental health record is proof of that.
with maturity, however; has come a balance in and perspective on my mind.
i accept the fact that i have no control
all i can do is pray that my conscious acts are in tune with the divine that dwells in all of us
i share a common consciousness with everyone
the one thing that makes me different
is that when i am able to cooperate with that divine consciousness
really good things happen.
things that people want or don't want, expect or don't expect, things nobody heard of or hears of.
wonderful things,seen or unseen,
that probably wouldn't happen if i didn't link my conscious will
with the divine will.
all people of good conscience attempt to do this, and succeed up to a point
i am simply more successful because the barriers to my subconscious were long ago torn down.
i stress that i have no control.
should i attempt to do anything outside the divine will,
i take a step toward madness.
this is the necessary paradox.
if i attempt to take control i loose control of my mind.
it loses the tenuous hold it has on reality.
if i give up control i maintain my loosely held grip.
i feel, sense pressure, vibration, temperature, density and waves.
air pressure
sound waves
chemical makeup
I sense brain wave patterns
i read them as speech and emotions
i predict future events by sensing patterns in brain waves
of people involved in situations.
i am@89% accurate in predicting outcome of series of events
where conclusion is less than 40% arbitrary.
I assign values by comparing outcomes over time.
i do not forget.
I choose not to recall what is not relevant in my opinion.
this makes me look dumb but I think clearly.
I read subconscious thought. this often conflicts with conscious thought but generally coincides with behaviour as I see it.
my senses seem to perceive the ”real world” and the souls who occupy it
very differently than anyone I have ever met.
i cannot be certain as I can gain no perspective on this.
I am generally very objective.
my behavior therefore often runs counter to the conscious
and stated expectations of others.
I do, however; mesh very well with the deeper motivations and desires of others.
this is not always consciously appreciated
but is always subconsciously approved of.
this generally surfaces as respect of my position
if not conscious agreement.
i heal minds, hearts and relationships.
i also heal places and things.
this is all due to my ability to consciously and subconsciously
to cooperate with the spirit of God that dwells in all creation but mostly in the subconscious mind of man.
i gained this ability when i was subjected to satanic ritual
abuse as a child.
in order to survive the multi-level trauma,
my mind broke down the barriers between my subconscious mind and my conscious mind.
what once were a series of barriers to protect my conscious mind
is now a continuum that i slide precariously along.
what has saved me has been my Christian faith
and my Yaqui heritage.
the combination is not necessarily compatible but has sufficed.
i live.
cross dressing and dual sexuality is deeply ingrained in the Yaqui tradition going back at least to the aztecs
much of my crossdressing is of a ritual nature these days
involving healing of people, places or things.
or myself
all have spirit ,all need healing sometimes.
this does not conflict with my faith.
Jesus and the apostles drove demons from people, places, and things.
Jesus said those who had faith could do these things and many others.
he also said not to rejoice in such abilities but be happy that God loves you.
The Yaqui way is a facet of the Chistian jewel.
Yaqui give all things to the Maker
Yaqui do not question why
Yaqui accept all things, live in all worlds the same way,
walking with the Maker.
Some have perverted this to "new age"
this new thing is an old way of making a good thing bad.
take a good thing and take the Maker out of it and put man in his place.
then the good thing is bad.
i give all power, responsibility, and credit to the spirit of God.
i make few choices of my own and then only if the Lord makes me.
i turn all of my time, energy, even my body over to the spirit.
i constantly pray and test the spirit to be sure i am not misled.
Fourty five years of practice have made me very wary and expert.
i am not always conscious of the spiritual ramifications of my actions but i no longer doubt them.
a step here, a word there, a dance, a blow to a wall, a whistle, even a smile can all have consequences.
i no longer try to figure any of it out.
when i know i'm on track, i know.
but i know only approximately 8.25% of the time.
the rest of the time is Grace.
my mind records all sensory input
including weather patterns,
chemical breakdowns and thought patterns.
information deficits are self imposed
in order to better function.
i naturally retain too much to process.
it is overwhelming.
i see the consequences of most actions.
it is overwhelming.
at the age of thirteen i attempted to make myself deaf.
i aquired tinitus.i no longer have perfect pitch
i'm glad.
at the age of fifteen i cut off the tips of two fingers,
at the age of twenty seven, the tip of my thumb.
i have also built up heavy calouses on my hands.
i now have 32% less sensory input from my hands.
i'm glad.
i don't see as well as i used to.
17% less useable visual input.
OK
processing is 8% slower
don't care
29.5 pounds over optimum weight
too bad
i can manipulate my metabolism, body chemistry, etc.
by diet, activity level, light exposure, etc.
so what.
i'm pretty much just an average guy
with a terrible gift
that up to now has done him no good.
God willing, things will be different now.
sensory input now equals capacity.
thank God.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Look At Him
Look at him.
(people have always looked at me)
He has every gift God can give
and he's wasted it all.
And now he expects other people
get him out of the mess
he's made of his life?
Let him dig down deep and
do it himself,
it'll be good for him,
make a man out of him.
Look at him. Walking down the street,
seems distracted, but smiles and stops to say something to a family passing by.
See, there, in the parietal lobe,
a vision of that man He is talking to,
why its the man's penis grown long enough for him to stuff it in His mouth.
And scenes of old women and children being raped.
Doesn't seem to phase him.
Hmmm, he looks OK, placid even, sad, but OK.
Hmmm. look there in the central sulcus,
pain in his rectum and chest, all he is doing is reading.
Whats the book, something about PTSD.
Oh my, doesn't he look good today,
better looking as he ages, I think.
Look there, in the amigdala,
fear, fear of being noticed,
singled out, different, chosen, used
wow, that triggers more fear,
memories from all over, some clear and distinct, some unclear.
"MMMM you have such a great bod" she said.
Sex, she wants sex.
Fear, panic, desire, anxiety, lots of stimulation.
She's looking at me, her hands are everywhere
but she doesn't really see me,
know me, understand me,
Used. Ok, lots of stuff here.
What do you mean, he's going with the flow like a pro.
OK, but there's lots of stuff...
OK, OK, he was doin great, but ED, ED...
Lots of memories, clarity variation,
Holy sh__! He's scooting out the back door
leaving that hot blonde hot and heavy.
Just because I look the way I do,
everyone thinks I'm some sort of stud,
that all I want out of life is sex,
I go with the flow as usual, but...
Look at him,
he's got it all,
made the team as walk on,
he'll be number two behind the senior all conference whip LB,
Get plenty of playing time, get a scholarship
Start next year, or this year if the number one goes down.
And the women...
Uh Oh, look amino acid uptake is critically low
he's clinical,
Ah, c'mon, look at him, he's fine.
No, sleep patterns disturbed,
anxiety depression cycle...
All my life, long as I can remember,
I never let anybody know what was really going on inside,
I got really good at it,
No one can by looking,
and I find I simply can't talk about it coherently,
would mean too much attention.
Momentary consciousness {see blog page},
anxiety, depression.
Evil, everything is evil.
Spirits, demons everywhere.
I sense them, I battle them,
with my spirit, my right parietal lobe.
the rest of my brain goes on as usual...
Look at him, he's fine,
workin' like a champ, been here six weeks
and he's running his own crew.
The wind draws one into a black hole,
unless you have the will to resist the madness.
Then came the voices,
and the interior world
grew to be more real than the exterior.
Constant delusion on a grand scale,
my perceptions, the evidence of my senses is the illusion,
the voice and the world it creates are the reality.
But why don't you ever tell anyone?
The words don't form in my mouth,
I reherse them often in my mind
but they won't come out.
Maybe something about PTSD and apraxia.
Look at him,
what a waste.
And the dreams.
I am back with my first wife, the abuser.
Some bazaar, fantastic scenario,
it becomes wilder, more menacing, more surreal, more complex, more evil...
I am trapped with unbearable evil...until it reaches the point where I simply cannot take it any longer...
and the scenario changes, still just as bazaar and evil,
but somehow the the change makes it bearable and the cycle repeats,
over and over, each scenario somehow worst than the last.
I awake in the very early morning, I feel psychotic,
anxiety, fear, reality is unclear, not to be trusted, unstable.
I stay awake until dawn, then try to sleep.
(people have always looked at me)
He has every gift God can give
and he's wasted it all.
And now he expects other people
get him out of the mess
he's made of his life?
Let him dig down deep and
do it himself,
it'll be good for him,
make a man out of him.
Look at him. Walking down the street,
seems distracted, but smiles and stops to say something to a family passing by.
See, there, in the parietal lobe,
a vision of that man He is talking to,
why its the man's penis grown long enough for him to stuff it in His mouth.
And scenes of old women and children being raped.
Doesn't seem to phase him.
Hmmm, he looks OK, placid even, sad, but OK.
Hmmm. look there in the central sulcus,
pain in his rectum and chest, all he is doing is reading.
Whats the book, something about PTSD.
Oh my, doesn't he look good today,
better looking as he ages, I think.
Look there, in the amigdala,
fear, fear of being noticed,
singled out, different, chosen, used
wow, that triggers more fear,
memories from all over, some clear and distinct, some unclear.
"MMMM you have such a great bod" she said.
Sex, she wants sex.
Fear, panic, desire, anxiety, lots of stimulation.
She's looking at me, her hands are everywhere
but she doesn't really see me,
know me, understand me,
Used. Ok, lots of stuff here.
What do you mean, he's going with the flow like a pro.
OK, but there's lots of stuff...
OK, OK, he was doin great, but ED, ED...
Lots of memories, clarity variation,
Holy sh__! He's scooting out the back door
leaving that hot blonde hot and heavy.
Just because I look the way I do,
everyone thinks I'm some sort of stud,
that all I want out of life is sex,
I go with the flow as usual, but...
Look at him,
he's got it all,
made the team as walk on,
he'll be number two behind the senior all conference whip LB,
Get plenty of playing time, get a scholarship
Start next year, or this year if the number one goes down.
And the women...
Uh Oh, look amino acid uptake is critically low
he's clinical,
Ah, c'mon, look at him, he's fine.
No, sleep patterns disturbed,
anxiety depression cycle...
All my life, long as I can remember,
I never let anybody know what was really going on inside,
I got really good at it,
No one can by looking,
and I find I simply can't talk about it coherently,
would mean too much attention.
Momentary consciousness {see blog page},
anxiety, depression.
Evil, everything is evil.
Spirits, demons everywhere.
I sense them, I battle them,
with my spirit, my right parietal lobe.
the rest of my brain goes on as usual...
Look at him, he's fine,
workin' like a champ, been here six weeks
and he's running his own crew.
The wind draws one into a black hole,
unless you have the will to resist the madness.
Then came the voices,
and the interior world
grew to be more real than the exterior.
Constant delusion on a grand scale,
my perceptions, the evidence of my senses is the illusion,
the voice and the world it creates are the reality.
But why don't you ever tell anyone?
The words don't form in my mouth,
I reherse them often in my mind
but they won't come out.
Maybe something about PTSD and apraxia.
Look at him,
what a waste.
And the dreams.
I am back with my first wife, the abuser.
Some bazaar, fantastic scenario,
it becomes wilder, more menacing, more surreal, more complex, more evil...
I am trapped with unbearable evil...until it reaches the point where I simply cannot take it any longer...
and the scenario changes, still just as bazaar and evil,
but somehow the the change makes it bearable and the cycle repeats,
over and over, each scenario somehow worst than the last.
I awake in the very early morning, I feel psychotic,
anxiety, fear, reality is unclear, not to be trusted, unstable.
I stay awake until dawn, then try to sleep.
"My" Life
Prayer of Thomas Merton
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
“My” life, it’s not really about me. I, we, are placed here on earth, by God, to love and serve Him. This is my, our, purpose for living. This mostly consists of loving, helping, serving each other and loving and caring for the earth, according to the will of God, by the power of the Holy Spirit. Simply put, “my” life is about God. Trouble is, we generally get this all screwed up, one way or another. If we’re not taught this purpose (perhaps we skipped class that decade of our life) or we try to ignore this purpose, we search restlessly through our life, trying to fill the vacancy left by our missing purpose. Perhaps we stumble through a messy, empty life, at a loss as to what we’re here for, or perhaps we charge through a “successful” life, only to end up lost and empty. Even if we were paying attention and know loving and serving God is our purpose, we often leave out the part about “the will of God” and “the power of the Holy Spirit.” Then we run off, confusing God’s will with our will and/or the power of the Holy Spirit with our “power”, and either fall flat on our face, wondering why God has forsaken us, or we build a mighty temple of our own power and will (this is the scary part) and draw people to ourselves instead of God. Well, God has this way of making pretty much everything turn out for the better in the end, even if we can’t see it, so these paths and their many variations can all lead to God’s purpose, but we can save ourselves and our loved ones some serious heartaches by getting it right in the first place. I say this at the age of fifty, looking back over what I thought was a largely misspent life, doing everything the hard, wrong way, making mistakes at every turn, I felt like a walking disaster; but my heart was usually in the right place and somehow, this great God, this tender, loving, intimate yet infinite God, somehow He made it good. However, I do not recommend such a path. I am told I should have no regrets, I have thousands. I am told there is no such thing as a mistake, its all spiritual learning. Let me tell you, I did make mistakes, lots of them, that caused myself and others pain, lots of pain. The fact that God is able to turn such a mess into something good, does not turn the original wrong to right, does not justify all the pain. It is a testament to God’s power, God’s love, God’s care that all turns out well, it does not mean it was all good at the time it occurred, at times it was hell and Satan himself seemed to shine his eerie red light through my life and this was wrong. Though I often prayed, God was not the center of my life, I did not seek to do His will but for Him to justify mine, and there was much power thrown about but there was little that was holy in it. We have free will, God’s terrible gift, God’s precious curse. And we misuse it. If “it’s all good”, then pain, that sign something is wrong, that gut-soul wrenching agony that gores and rips and tears and scars the heart and mind, would not exist. Pain comes to us through our own faults, but also the faults of others, and also through faults in this world. This world, made perfect by God, but shattered by the misuse of our free will, our power. All pain, all suffering, is in the beginning and in the end, caused by misused will and power, lack of or misshapen love, which is fear. I believe these not only tear at our hearts and minds and lead us to harm ourselves and others, I believe it tears at the very fabric of reality, misshaping God’s creation, both Man and Nature. In Genesis, Man is given stewardship of the earth and is told to “subdue it”. I believe this gives us an elemental connection to and power over nature Western civilization has denied. Man is responsible for the evil, the hostility of Nature. We are one body, one spirit, mankind is elementally connected, has a communal life. We are individually responsible for our actions yet they have communal consequences. I do believe in evil, but I believe fear to be the source of all evil. There is an old parable, where a certain animal, the one most universally feared by mankind, one, which ancient superstition has it, is at times able to hypnotize its victims, approaches a woman, mysteriously left alone by the man whose responsibility it was to protect her. Would not this archetypal woman be afraid, perhaps, in some sense, come under this “creature’s” power? Fear is known by psychology to distort our perceptions, our judgment, our very sense of self, and to have communal effects (mass hysteria, for only one) as well as have a profound effect on our physiology. Fear has power over Man; Man has some sort of limited power over Nature. I believe we don’t understand the half of it. Perhaps look it all up, in Genesis and elsewhere, and while you’re at it, ask someone who is into the latest in quantum physics about the nature of “reality.” It seems not to be concrete at all, but to be energy and “empty” space, which is not really empty at all, but full of something our science cannot define. Full of the “stuff” (a much used term in metaphysics) of God? And it seems to be malleable.
The “New Age” and the “Prosperity Gospel” have made much of this. But they’ve gotten the purpose, the will and the power all screwed up. I do believe in positive thinking, its called faith, hope and love. “Six degrees of separation”? One body, one Spirit.
What is the purpose we all need: to love and serve God; how do we know what God’s asking of us: relinquish our will, our lives, totally surrender to the will of God; how do we do this: not by our own power, knowledge, effort, but by the power of the Holy Spirit working through us. But, as Merton says, we can rarely, if ever, be certain we are doing God’s will, (I have met very few people who have been certain of God’s will more than once or twice in long lives, myself included) we must trust God, have faith. How is such faith possible? It is perhaps the most simple, yet the most difficult thing we can do, we must live without fear, which is to love, and step out in faith. The most oft repeated theme in scripture, Christian and otherwise, is “be not afraid, have faith,” or some variation thereof. Still I ask, how is this possible? Purpose, Will, Power, it all boils down to faith. Faith without fear. “Perfect love drives out fear;” but Man is incapable of perfect love, as the Old Testament shows. We are only capable of perfect love through faith in God who loves us with perfect love. Still the question: how such faith? Faith. Not the Lutherian come Calvinist come Protestant faith that “saves” you with its formulaic stamp of approval, once and for all; by which the saved may ask of us all with perfect piety, “Are you saved?” Neither is it the archaic Catholic “faith” of keeping the divine score card of sins against penances, where acts of mercy are done not to help others or even to please God but to rack up the score so as to “win” Heaven. Neither is it the vague Eastern mystical faith in a totally transcendent God whom we gain union with by “practice.” These all have their partial truths and therefore merit, but all reduce God to an observer of our efforts. God has given us the gift of such faith by giving us a friend and brother God, one we can know, in the deepest possible sense of knowing. “…that you, being rooted and grounded in love may have power to comprehend with all the saints, what is the length and breadth and height and depth and to know the love of Christ which surpasses all knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God,” (Eph 3). A love, a knowing beyond all knowledge, beyond all space and time, learning and wisdom (the four dimensions), which brings us faith, by the power of God, in the one man-God, Jesus by his Jewish given name (for all the fullness of God dwells in Him), the promised of ages, the answer to the call of Me-ssiiii-ahhhh…which rings out through all the ages of Man to the very moment. But the words are still inadequate. Jesus is faith, faith is Jesus, by whatever name you may call him, if you have a name for him. The one mankind has searched for and waited for since man could be called Man. The Word has been in us, all the time, that still quiet space we so often ignore. But now he is also one we can talk to as one like ourselves. Faith had a body and mind and heart and soul and spirit, like us, had a life like ours (except sin), which he completely gave up for us, for the Purpose, totally obedient to the Will, through the one Power. His Life, the Incarnation, the Word of God made flesh, brought God Himself, face to face, eyelash to eyelash, hand in hand, breathe by breathe, heart to heart, with not just those thick headed disciples, but every one of us. He died, like we all will, he was brought out of death like we all shall be, he is now and will be for all time, the risen Son of God and Son of Man, risen body, heart, mind, soul, spirit, and infinite, intimate God in one and we will be like his risen self one day, “What we shall be has not yet been revealed except that we will be like Him”(1 John). Faith is a person we can talk to, now, really. Not to say it is easy. He spoke in parables to the crowds, explained them to those irritating disciples in private, and it seemed even so, no one really heard him, understood him, until he had died and was risen. Even then they asked him if he was going to restore Israel, even then, they doubted. It took the coming of the Spirit, Christ’s gift to us, his very own Spirit, the Power, for them to really get it, as it does for us. It is very simple, we simply go as best we can to the still quiet place in our heart, our soul, speak to Jesus there, even if we don’t think there is any one there, or there seems too little stillness, not enough quiet. We can tell Him how we feel, anything on our mind, anything bothering us, stuff we feel bad about (that’s a good one, ‘cause it’s probably something he really wants us to get off our heart so He can heal us and forgive us.). We ask Him to send His Spirit to help us, though it is really the Spirit that has gotten us this far, ‘cause whatever it was that got us to thinking about faith or Jesus or God in the first place; the Spirit was right there. We ask Jesus, or God, or the Spirit, whichever one we feel most comfortable with (‘cause they are all the same God; that Trinity thing) what He wants us to do, and we listen, all still and quiet as possible, for as long as we have time for, thank Him, even if we don’t know for sure what we are thanking Him for. We do this every day; take as much time as we can, as often as we can, being as sincere as we can. When we feel comfortable doing it, He really likes it when we tell Him we love Him ‘cause that means we are feeling the love he has had for us since the beginning of time. That’s pretty much all there is to it. We need to remember we’re probably not going to know for sure what God’s will is, He wants us to have faith (that Word again) and trust Him. As we pray the Spirit will gradually teach us how to surrender to the Will of God, that is, if we are open to it, all the time teaching us about Jesus. There is much made of repentance of sin, but as we turn to God, the Spirit makes us aware of our sins, and in His presence; this awareness naturally brings about repentance, sooner or later. Not that it is easy, it is not, I just said it was simple. And just when we think we have cleaned up all that sin, He points out another boatload. [Some people believe God doesn’t listen to the prayers of sinners, if this were true, God would listen to no one, and (pet peeve coming up) I get real… uncomfortable when folks say what God does or doesn’t do. No one knows the mind of God, when we say God only does this, or doesn’t do that, we put limits on God, put Him in a box and one thing I’m real comfortable saying is He fits in no box we can possibly imagine. Any limitation we put on God excludes something or someone, makes God smaller, less loving. Placing limitations on God is something organized religions are really… good at ‘cause it makes God their own, exclusive, private God. Which is impossible. God is Infinite.]
This process requires that we find that stillness in ourselves where Faith, where Jesus dwells. Not easy, but simple.
I don’t think it’s absolutely necessary that one does this in a physically still, quiet place, though with most people it helps. I think it’s more important that it be a place we are comfortable with and feel connected with, grounded, at peace. This may or may not be a still, quiet place, but it will probably be a place we find peace in, and God. It may or may not be our home, it’s often a place somehow connected to nature (directly or indirectly), often a place we feel love. If we don’t have such a place, the Spirit will help us find or create one. Also, we can pray anytime, anywhere, if the idea to pray strikes, be appropriate to your situation, but just do it, even if it’s just a word or two. God likes to check in with us from time to time, and we will want to check in with Him as we grow in Love, too.
Reading Scripture helps a lot, but I don’t recommend starting at page one and just plowing all the way through it. Lots of people try, few make it. For one thing, the Bible is often not chronological, it’s not a novel, its more a collection of books and essays and letters. Besides, we need to be open to what the Spirit is telling us, not necessarily what page we’re on. It’s generally best to take in relatively small chunks, a chapter a day at most, and meditate, pray, spend time with what we’ve read (yes, spend time getting to know the Word). Subscribing to some sort of daily Scripture reading is good. Some denominations have suggested daily readings and lots of organizations put them out. They will often have an interpretation or meditation that can be helpful, but differing interpretations, attitudes, viewpoints, abound. It’s important to ask the Spirit to guide us to one that resonates with us. So, to satisfy my restless heart, the urge for God that I believe is innate to Man, part of our very will to live, I must turn “my” life over to God. But really, how can I say it is “mine” in the first place? I did not create myself, I cannot even draw a single breathe without relying on this mysterious life force within me. This entity I call my “self” exists within “my” body, but is somehow apart from it, therefore not necessarily connected to “reality.” Is anything really mine? I say it is all gift, a gift from God we truly do not know or understand, much less “own.” Modern science has done a great job of explaining the mechanics of our body and even parts of our mind, but cannot touch the reason or the power that originated and sustains life even at simple levels, let alone Man. Some physicists are now saying the basic nature of “reality”, in micro or in macro, may be beyond our capability to fully comprehend. So seek out all kinds of knowledge and wisdom, but know that our life is not our own. Live the Purpose, submit to the Will, humbly receive the Power.
My words are so inadequate. The Word, the Faith, is everything, is “all in all.”
This I believe.
We Love By His Life
by Jon Walker
“I myself no longer live, but Christ lives in me. So I live my life in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, NLT)
When Jesus commands us to do something, he knows we cannot do it unless we are empowered by him – and so he joins his life with the Holy Spirit within us. Thus, “Christ lives in me.”
This new life within will take us where thoughts or feelings never will; it will enable us more than information or willpower ever can. We receive the love and life of Jesus, and he says, “Go and do the same.” As awesome and costly and everlasting as the Gospel is, it’s also this simple: We are transformed by the life of Christ released within us, and now we’re to show and tell others how Christ can live in them.
And isn’t it true that for a while this seems to be the easiest and most natural thing we’ve ever done? We get love from Jesus, and then we turn around and give it away to others.
But then, after a while, we find it more and more difficult. Old habits return. Memories come back, and the emotions attached to them emerge in ways that cause us to stumble or feel defeated.
No matter how hard we try, some days sheer willpower isn’t enough to be the new creation that God says we are. And so we try harder, and things just get worse.
But God is relentless in his command to “love each other in the same way that I have loved you” – personal and up-close, meeting needs of undeserving others, not attacking their faults. This is God driving us away from the self-generated, “try harder” love into his love that is freely given. This is where the Spirit of Love - himself - is able to teach us, “Not I, but Christ.”
We begin to see it is no longer “just I” doing the loving – that would be life under the Law. Success would bring self-commendation; failure would produce self-condemnation.
We learn to say in faith: “I myself no longer live, but Christ lives in me. So I live my life in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, NLT)
What now?
· Personal love – Since God’s love is personal, it must be personalized as us. God’s love becomes personal and meaningful to others when we allow God to touch them through us.
· See the need; don’t criticize it – Oswald Chambers said in My Utmost for His Highest, “God never allows us to see another person at fault so we may criticize them, but only that we might intercede.” Intercessors do not ignore or deny fault or sin; they address the needs behind the faults and the sins. We love one another as God loves us when we come to others not to just take swings, but with prayerful, godly solutions.
[From “The Purpose Driven Life Newsletter, by Jon Walker]
Elder’s Meditation “Hollow bones”
"We are called hollow bones for our people and for anyone else we can help, and we are not supposed to seek power for our personal use and honor."
--Fools Crow, LAKOTA
In order for us to use our power well, we must become a hollow bone. We must prepare ourselves to become a channel. Our channel must be clean before we can use our power well. We must be free of resentments, guilt, shame, anger, self-pity and fear. If these things are in us, we cannot be hollow bones. These things block us from our power. The cleaner we are, the more power we move. We must become a hollow bone so the Creator can use us to do what he wants us to do.
My Creator, remove from me today all resentment, anger, fear, guilt and selfishness. Do not let my weaknesses stand in the way of my usefulness to You. Make me a hollow bone so Your power can flow through me.
Elder’s Meditation “Ownership”
Things will come and things will go. Really, I own nothing, the Creator owns all. Too often I label things as mine. I say this belongs to me, but it really belongs to the Creator. He gives me things to take care of. I need to do the best I can with what I have, with what I know at the time. And when the Creator changes things, I need to let go for His planning is the best.
Oh Great Spirit, today let me do the best I can with what I know, with what I have. Let me experience acceptance of Your will.
[From WhiteBison.org Daily Meditations]
“…He notices everything as he walks, the good work that someone, careless or unfortunate, has let fall on the ground… he goes about his work, putting together or putting back together… knowing that when he was young, the bow, the spear, the knife, the pipe, taught him balance, order and control, but that he no longer needs these things…” (Lakota Sioux)
From “Hanta Yo”, by Ruth Beebe Hill
Col 3-8-17
8 But now you must put them all away: anger, fury, malice, slander, and obscene language out of your mouths. 9 And stop lying to one another, since you have taken off the old self with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed, for knowledge, in the image of its creator. 11 Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcision and uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free {no divisions, class structure, discrimination, bigotry, self-centeredness}; but Christ is all and in all. 12 Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, 13 bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. 14 And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. 15 And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful. 16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom and insight you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.
17 And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Eph3-14-21
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with might through his Spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him, who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen.
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
“My” life, it’s not really about me. I, we, are placed here on earth, by God, to love and serve Him. This is my, our, purpose for living. This mostly consists of loving, helping, serving each other and loving and caring for the earth, according to the will of God, by the power of the Holy Spirit. Simply put, “my” life is about God. Trouble is, we generally get this all screwed up, one way or another. If we’re not taught this purpose (perhaps we skipped class that decade of our life) or we try to ignore this purpose, we search restlessly through our life, trying to fill the vacancy left by our missing purpose. Perhaps we stumble through a messy, empty life, at a loss as to what we’re here for, or perhaps we charge through a “successful” life, only to end up lost and empty. Even if we were paying attention and know loving and serving God is our purpose, we often leave out the part about “the will of God” and “the power of the Holy Spirit.” Then we run off, confusing God’s will with our will and/or the power of the Holy Spirit with our “power”, and either fall flat on our face, wondering why God has forsaken us, or we build a mighty temple of our own power and will (this is the scary part) and draw people to ourselves instead of God. Well, God has this way of making pretty much everything turn out for the better in the end, even if we can’t see it, so these paths and their many variations can all lead to God’s purpose, but we can save ourselves and our loved ones some serious heartaches by getting it right in the first place. I say this at the age of fifty, looking back over what I thought was a largely misspent life, doing everything the hard, wrong way, making mistakes at every turn, I felt like a walking disaster; but my heart was usually in the right place and somehow, this great God, this tender, loving, intimate yet infinite God, somehow He made it good. However, I do not recommend such a path. I am told I should have no regrets, I have thousands. I am told there is no such thing as a mistake, its all spiritual learning. Let me tell you, I did make mistakes, lots of them, that caused myself and others pain, lots of pain. The fact that God is able to turn such a mess into something good, does not turn the original wrong to right, does not justify all the pain. It is a testament to God’s power, God’s love, God’s care that all turns out well, it does not mean it was all good at the time it occurred, at times it was hell and Satan himself seemed to shine his eerie red light through my life and this was wrong. Though I often prayed, God was not the center of my life, I did not seek to do His will but for Him to justify mine, and there was much power thrown about but there was little that was holy in it. We have free will, God’s terrible gift, God’s precious curse. And we misuse it. If “it’s all good”, then pain, that sign something is wrong, that gut-soul wrenching agony that gores and rips and tears and scars the heart and mind, would not exist. Pain comes to us through our own faults, but also the faults of others, and also through faults in this world. This world, made perfect by God, but shattered by the misuse of our free will, our power. All pain, all suffering, is in the beginning and in the end, caused by misused will and power, lack of or misshapen love, which is fear. I believe these not only tear at our hearts and minds and lead us to harm ourselves and others, I believe it tears at the very fabric of reality, misshaping God’s creation, both Man and Nature. In Genesis, Man is given stewardship of the earth and is told to “subdue it”. I believe this gives us an elemental connection to and power over nature Western civilization has denied. Man is responsible for the evil, the hostility of Nature. We are one body, one spirit, mankind is elementally connected, has a communal life. We are individually responsible for our actions yet they have communal consequences. I do believe in evil, but I believe fear to be the source of all evil. There is an old parable, where a certain animal, the one most universally feared by mankind, one, which ancient superstition has it, is at times able to hypnotize its victims, approaches a woman, mysteriously left alone by the man whose responsibility it was to protect her. Would not this archetypal woman be afraid, perhaps, in some sense, come under this “creature’s” power? Fear is known by psychology to distort our perceptions, our judgment, our very sense of self, and to have communal effects (mass hysteria, for only one) as well as have a profound effect on our physiology. Fear has power over Man; Man has some sort of limited power over Nature. I believe we don’t understand the half of it. Perhaps look it all up, in Genesis and elsewhere, and while you’re at it, ask someone who is into the latest in quantum physics about the nature of “reality.” It seems not to be concrete at all, but to be energy and “empty” space, which is not really empty at all, but full of something our science cannot define. Full of the “stuff” (a much used term in metaphysics) of God? And it seems to be malleable.
The “New Age” and the “Prosperity Gospel” have made much of this. But they’ve gotten the purpose, the will and the power all screwed up. I do believe in positive thinking, its called faith, hope and love. “Six degrees of separation”? One body, one Spirit.
What is the purpose we all need: to love and serve God; how do we know what God’s asking of us: relinquish our will, our lives, totally surrender to the will of God; how do we do this: not by our own power, knowledge, effort, but by the power of the Holy Spirit working through us. But, as Merton says, we can rarely, if ever, be certain we are doing God’s will, (I have met very few people who have been certain of God’s will more than once or twice in long lives, myself included) we must trust God, have faith. How is such faith possible? It is perhaps the most simple, yet the most difficult thing we can do, we must live without fear, which is to love, and step out in faith. The most oft repeated theme in scripture, Christian and otherwise, is “be not afraid, have faith,” or some variation thereof. Still I ask, how is this possible? Purpose, Will, Power, it all boils down to faith. Faith without fear. “Perfect love drives out fear;” but Man is incapable of perfect love, as the Old Testament shows. We are only capable of perfect love through faith in God who loves us with perfect love. Still the question: how such faith? Faith. Not the Lutherian come Calvinist come Protestant faith that “saves” you with its formulaic stamp of approval, once and for all; by which the saved may ask of us all with perfect piety, “Are you saved?” Neither is it the archaic Catholic “faith” of keeping the divine score card of sins against penances, where acts of mercy are done not to help others or even to please God but to rack up the score so as to “win” Heaven. Neither is it the vague Eastern mystical faith in a totally transcendent God whom we gain union with by “practice.” These all have their partial truths and therefore merit, but all reduce God to an observer of our efforts. God has given us the gift of such faith by giving us a friend and brother God, one we can know, in the deepest possible sense of knowing. “…that you, being rooted and grounded in love may have power to comprehend with all the saints, what is the length and breadth and height and depth and to know the love of Christ which surpasses all knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God,” (Eph 3). A love, a knowing beyond all knowledge, beyond all space and time, learning and wisdom (the four dimensions), which brings us faith, by the power of God, in the one man-God, Jesus by his Jewish given name (for all the fullness of God dwells in Him), the promised of ages, the answer to the call of Me-ssiiii-ahhhh…which rings out through all the ages of Man to the very moment. But the words are still inadequate. Jesus is faith, faith is Jesus, by whatever name you may call him, if you have a name for him. The one mankind has searched for and waited for since man could be called Man. The Word has been in us, all the time, that still quiet space we so often ignore. But now he is also one we can talk to as one like ourselves. Faith had a body and mind and heart and soul and spirit, like us, had a life like ours (except sin), which he completely gave up for us, for the Purpose, totally obedient to the Will, through the one Power. His Life, the Incarnation, the Word of God made flesh, brought God Himself, face to face, eyelash to eyelash, hand in hand, breathe by breathe, heart to heart, with not just those thick headed disciples, but every one of us. He died, like we all will, he was brought out of death like we all shall be, he is now and will be for all time, the risen Son of God and Son of Man, risen body, heart, mind, soul, spirit, and infinite, intimate God in one and we will be like his risen self one day, “What we shall be has not yet been revealed except that we will be like Him”(1 John). Faith is a person we can talk to, now, really. Not to say it is easy. He spoke in parables to the crowds, explained them to those irritating disciples in private, and it seemed even so, no one really heard him, understood him, until he had died and was risen. Even then they asked him if he was going to restore Israel, even then, they doubted. It took the coming of the Spirit, Christ’s gift to us, his very own Spirit, the Power, for them to really get it, as it does for us. It is very simple, we simply go as best we can to the still quiet place in our heart, our soul, speak to Jesus there, even if we don’t think there is any one there, or there seems too little stillness, not enough quiet. We can tell Him how we feel, anything on our mind, anything bothering us, stuff we feel bad about (that’s a good one, ‘cause it’s probably something he really wants us to get off our heart so He can heal us and forgive us.). We ask Him to send His Spirit to help us, though it is really the Spirit that has gotten us this far, ‘cause whatever it was that got us to thinking about faith or Jesus or God in the first place; the Spirit was right there. We ask Jesus, or God, or the Spirit, whichever one we feel most comfortable with (‘cause they are all the same God; that Trinity thing) what He wants us to do, and we listen, all still and quiet as possible, for as long as we have time for, thank Him, even if we don’t know for sure what we are thanking Him for. We do this every day; take as much time as we can, as often as we can, being as sincere as we can. When we feel comfortable doing it, He really likes it when we tell Him we love Him ‘cause that means we are feeling the love he has had for us since the beginning of time. That’s pretty much all there is to it. We need to remember we’re probably not going to know for sure what God’s will is, He wants us to have faith (that Word again) and trust Him. As we pray the Spirit will gradually teach us how to surrender to the Will of God, that is, if we are open to it, all the time teaching us about Jesus. There is much made of repentance of sin, but as we turn to God, the Spirit makes us aware of our sins, and in His presence; this awareness naturally brings about repentance, sooner or later. Not that it is easy, it is not, I just said it was simple. And just when we think we have cleaned up all that sin, He points out another boatload. [Some people believe God doesn’t listen to the prayers of sinners, if this were true, God would listen to no one, and (pet peeve coming up) I get real… uncomfortable when folks say what God does or doesn’t do. No one knows the mind of God, when we say God only does this, or doesn’t do that, we put limits on God, put Him in a box and one thing I’m real comfortable saying is He fits in no box we can possibly imagine. Any limitation we put on God excludes something or someone, makes God smaller, less loving. Placing limitations on God is something organized religions are really… good at ‘cause it makes God their own, exclusive, private God. Which is impossible. God is Infinite.]
This process requires that we find that stillness in ourselves where Faith, where Jesus dwells. Not easy, but simple.
I don’t think it’s absolutely necessary that one does this in a physically still, quiet place, though with most people it helps. I think it’s more important that it be a place we are comfortable with and feel connected with, grounded, at peace. This may or may not be a still, quiet place, but it will probably be a place we find peace in, and God. It may or may not be our home, it’s often a place somehow connected to nature (directly or indirectly), often a place we feel love. If we don’t have such a place, the Spirit will help us find or create one. Also, we can pray anytime, anywhere, if the idea to pray strikes, be appropriate to your situation, but just do it, even if it’s just a word or two. God likes to check in with us from time to time, and we will want to check in with Him as we grow in Love, too.
Reading Scripture helps a lot, but I don’t recommend starting at page one and just plowing all the way through it. Lots of people try, few make it. For one thing, the Bible is often not chronological, it’s not a novel, its more a collection of books and essays and letters. Besides, we need to be open to what the Spirit is telling us, not necessarily what page we’re on. It’s generally best to take in relatively small chunks, a chapter a day at most, and meditate, pray, spend time with what we’ve read (yes, spend time getting to know the Word). Subscribing to some sort of daily Scripture reading is good. Some denominations have suggested daily readings and lots of organizations put them out. They will often have an interpretation or meditation that can be helpful, but differing interpretations, attitudes, viewpoints, abound. It’s important to ask the Spirit to guide us to one that resonates with us. So, to satisfy my restless heart, the urge for God that I believe is innate to Man, part of our very will to live, I must turn “my” life over to God. But really, how can I say it is “mine” in the first place? I did not create myself, I cannot even draw a single breathe without relying on this mysterious life force within me. This entity I call my “self” exists within “my” body, but is somehow apart from it, therefore not necessarily connected to “reality.” Is anything really mine? I say it is all gift, a gift from God we truly do not know or understand, much less “own.” Modern science has done a great job of explaining the mechanics of our body and even parts of our mind, but cannot touch the reason or the power that originated and sustains life even at simple levels, let alone Man. Some physicists are now saying the basic nature of “reality”, in micro or in macro, may be beyond our capability to fully comprehend. So seek out all kinds of knowledge and wisdom, but know that our life is not our own. Live the Purpose, submit to the Will, humbly receive the Power.
My words are so inadequate. The Word, the Faith, is everything, is “all in all.”
This I believe.
We Love By His Life
by Jon Walker
“I myself no longer live, but Christ lives in me. So I live my life in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, NLT)
When Jesus commands us to do something, he knows we cannot do it unless we are empowered by him – and so he joins his life with the Holy Spirit within us. Thus, “Christ lives in me.”
This new life within will take us where thoughts or feelings never will; it will enable us more than information or willpower ever can. We receive the love and life of Jesus, and he says, “Go and do the same.” As awesome and costly and everlasting as the Gospel is, it’s also this simple: We are transformed by the life of Christ released within us, and now we’re to show and tell others how Christ can live in them.
And isn’t it true that for a while this seems to be the easiest and most natural thing we’ve ever done? We get love from Jesus, and then we turn around and give it away to others.
But then, after a while, we find it more and more difficult. Old habits return. Memories come back, and the emotions attached to them emerge in ways that cause us to stumble or feel defeated.
No matter how hard we try, some days sheer willpower isn’t enough to be the new creation that God says we are. And so we try harder, and things just get worse.
But God is relentless in his command to “love each other in the same way that I have loved you” – personal and up-close, meeting needs of undeserving others, not attacking their faults. This is God driving us away from the self-generated, “try harder” love into his love that is freely given. This is where the Spirit of Love - himself - is able to teach us, “Not I, but Christ.”
We begin to see it is no longer “just I” doing the loving – that would be life under the Law. Success would bring self-commendation; failure would produce self-condemnation.
We learn to say in faith: “I myself no longer live, but Christ lives in me. So I live my life in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20, NLT)
What now?
· Personal love – Since God’s love is personal, it must be personalized as us. God’s love becomes personal and meaningful to others when we allow God to touch them through us.
· See the need; don’t criticize it – Oswald Chambers said in My Utmost for His Highest, “God never allows us to see another person at fault so we may criticize them, but only that we might intercede.” Intercessors do not ignore or deny fault or sin; they address the needs behind the faults and the sins. We love one another as God loves us when we come to others not to just take swings, but with prayerful, godly solutions.
[From “The Purpose Driven Life Newsletter, by Jon Walker]
Elder’s Meditation “Hollow bones”
"We are called hollow bones for our people and for anyone else we can help, and we are not supposed to seek power for our personal use and honor."
--Fools Crow, LAKOTA
In order for us to use our power well, we must become a hollow bone. We must prepare ourselves to become a channel. Our channel must be clean before we can use our power well. We must be free of resentments, guilt, shame, anger, self-pity and fear. If these things are in us, we cannot be hollow bones. These things block us from our power. The cleaner we are, the more power we move. We must become a hollow bone so the Creator can use us to do what he wants us to do.
My Creator, remove from me today all resentment, anger, fear, guilt and selfishness. Do not let my weaknesses stand in the way of my usefulness to You. Make me a hollow bone so Your power can flow through me.
Elder’s Meditation “Ownership”
Things will come and things will go. Really, I own nothing, the Creator owns all. Too often I label things as mine. I say this belongs to me, but it really belongs to the Creator. He gives me things to take care of. I need to do the best I can with what I have, with what I know at the time. And when the Creator changes things, I need to let go for His planning is the best.
Oh Great Spirit, today let me do the best I can with what I know, with what I have. Let me experience acceptance of Your will.
[From WhiteBison.org Daily Meditations]
“…He notices everything as he walks, the good work that someone, careless or unfortunate, has let fall on the ground… he goes about his work, putting together or putting back together… knowing that when he was young, the bow, the spear, the knife, the pipe, taught him balance, order and control, but that he no longer needs these things…” (Lakota Sioux)
From “Hanta Yo”, by Ruth Beebe Hill
Col 3-8-17
8 But now you must put them all away: anger, fury, malice, slander, and obscene language out of your mouths. 9 And stop lying to one another, since you have taken off the old self with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed, for knowledge, in the image of its creator. 11 Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcision and uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free {no divisions, class structure, discrimination, bigotry, self-centeredness}; but Christ is all and in all. 12 Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, 13 bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. 14 And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. 15 And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful. 16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom and insight you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.
17 And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Eph3-14-21
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with might through his Spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him, who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
The Place (from Whispers)
The Place
I was still five years old
and I lay there in the dark
still and quiet, wanting to be somewhere else.
And I went to a place I’d never been.
A place clear and cool yet warm and still and in motion too.
And white,
not just white on the surface but white clear through
and it felt good to look at it
and good to be there.
It seemed like a cave,
with high white walls melding into the ceiling of solid white air,
like a mist made of rock, translucent.
I raised my hand to touch it,
knowing it was out of reach,
yet feeling it was near at hand.
I was standing on a rock ledge and I started to cry.
‘cause I was safe,
but where I was I didn’t know.
I just knew it was a good place,
a safe place to cry.
God was here, everywhere.
This place was made of God,
I could almost see him moving in the mist rock.
I laid down and waited until I stopped crying
and my heart stopped pounding
and I could breathe without sobbing.
Too soon I knew it was time to go.
And then my leg was warm and shaking and a voice called my name
and I smelled the dust of the old church
and felt a hand on my leg and I was back.
But I would visit the cool clear, warm white place in my dreams
knowing peace was there
and God.
I was still five years old
and I lay there in the dark
still and quiet, wanting to be somewhere else.
And I went to a place I’d never been.
A place clear and cool yet warm and still and in motion too.
And white,
not just white on the surface but white clear through
and it felt good to look at it
and good to be there.
It seemed like a cave,
with high white walls melding into the ceiling of solid white air,
like a mist made of rock, translucent.
I raised my hand to touch it,
knowing it was out of reach,
yet feeling it was near at hand.
I was standing on a rock ledge and I started to cry.
‘cause I was safe,
but where I was I didn’t know.
I just knew it was a good place,
a safe place to cry.
God was here, everywhere.
This place was made of God,
I could almost see him moving in the mist rock.
I laid down and waited until I stopped crying
and my heart stopped pounding
and I could breathe without sobbing.
Too soon I knew it was time to go.
And then my leg was warm and shaking and a voice called my name
and I smelled the dust of the old church
and felt a hand on my leg and I was back.
But I would visit the cool clear, warm white place in my dreams
knowing peace was there
and God.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Angel (She flew)
Her name was Grace
or maybe that was just what she was.
Grace with the golden hair.
And she flew.
Everything about her was motion and flight,
and joy and love
and she came to me,
just me, nobody else.
To talk to me,
to play with me,
To tell me what a good boy I was,
how strong and good and loved.
She came to tell me it wasn’t my fault.
I hadn’t done anything wrong,
and one day soon I would go home
and not come back here ever again.
Those people down there wouldn’t do this to me anymore.
She told me I would soon go to a place
where no bad people would come to me ever again.
A place with cows and horses and lots of space
for little boys to play all alone and be safe.
And she flew and I think that she took me there
to see the cows and horses and stuff.
I remember looking down on them
from the night high above.
I maybe imagined that
when she told me all about the grass
and the fields and the animals and all the fun things to do,
in my new place, after the bad place I’d been.
And she flew, all the time,
but she made me feel all still and quiet and happy deep inside
not just on the outside.
She was Grace
and she was woman and mother
and I closed my eyes and melted in her arms
I hugged her and she felt like silk
and smelled like my mom
and she was all round and soft and solid
and I loved her, and maybe she never really went away,
‘cause I don’t remember missing her.
And now, when that wonderful stillness comes on me
I wonder if its her, telling me I’m OK.
That I’m still a good boy, strong and good.
And loved.
And it wasn’t my fault.
or maybe that was just what she was.
Grace with the golden hair.
And she flew.
Everything about her was motion and flight,
and joy and love
and she came to me,
just me, nobody else.
To talk to me,
to play with me,
To tell me what a good boy I was,
how strong and good and loved.
She came to tell me it wasn’t my fault.
I hadn’t done anything wrong,
and one day soon I would go home
and not come back here ever again.
Those people down there wouldn’t do this to me anymore.
She told me I would soon go to a place
where no bad people would come to me ever again.
A place with cows and horses and lots of space
for little boys to play all alone and be safe.
And she flew and I think that she took me there
to see the cows and horses and stuff.
I remember looking down on them
from the night high above.
I maybe imagined that
when she told me all about the grass
and the fields and the animals and all the fun things to do,
in my new place, after the bad place I’d been.
And she flew, all the time,
but she made me feel all still and quiet and happy deep inside
not just on the outside.
She was Grace
and she was woman and mother
and I closed my eyes and melted in her arms
I hugged her and she felt like silk
and smelled like my mom
and she was all round and soft and solid
and I loved her, and maybe she never really went away,
‘cause I don’t remember missing her.
And now, when that wonderful stillness comes on me
I wonder if its her, telling me I’m OK.
That I’m still a good boy, strong and good.
And loved.
And it wasn’t my fault.
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