Free Will Isn't Free

Still processing through what it means to be a spiritual adult. . . .and if we accept the deed to our spiritual house that God grants to each of us, then the foundation of this house is definitely free will.

But free will isn't free.

I remember going to the grocery store with my grandmother one time, and she was pretty angry when she got to the register with a new brand of fabric softener called Free! and she was expected to pay for it. I'm sure that my grandmother wasn't the only misguided consumer who was told that Free! was the name of the fabric softener, and not the price. It seems odd that they would charge for something called Free!, but that's exactly what they did. I don't think it was a very successful marketing scheme. . . .lol.

Free will is the same way. We may call it "free will," but there is nothing free about it, for there is a very high price to pay for the ability to make choices about who we choose to be, how we choose to live, and and what we choose to do with our spiritual house. I've also been thinking a lot about free will -vs- God's will.

I have to start at the basic level, because the truth is that I don't really know what "God's will" really means. However, on a biological level, I do know what God's will for me is, because that truth is encoded as my DNA, that amazingly mysterious information that creates my physical form and regulates every single biochemical process in my body. My DNA is God's will for my biological self. . . .it's the "me" that God creates out of earth and animates in spirit.

So free will in terms of this part of God's will is pretty clear. I never liked that God willed me to have dark hair, so over the years I colored it the color that I wanted. I also didn't like the crooked teeth that God willed for my too small mouth, so I opposed God's will again by getting braces in my teens. I could also argue that every time I have cut my hair into uniquely personal styles I have exerted my free will over God's will, because God created my hair to grow, and not necessarily into a very flattering style. These may seem like simple or ridiculous examples of free will over God's will, but that is exactly what it is, only we don't think of these personal choices in terms of being in opposition of God's will.

Another example of God's will in my life is how my DNA is created with specific genetic sequences that predispose me to getting cancer, which means that I could argue that cancer is actually part of God's will for me. So does that mean that every time I fight the cancer in my body or fight against the presence of cancer in my life that I sin against and oppose God's will for me? Because if that's true, then I don't really care if I fight God's will, for there are little things that I do every single day in attempt to circumvent this part of God's will in my biology. My DNA also has other undesireable biological traits, all of which I also fight on a daily basis (like my unique genetic predispositions to aging, wrinkled skin, higher cholesterol, and brittle bones), but I don't have a problem with fighting any of this, either.

But I am more than earth, more than just the biology that God wills for me, as I am also spirit with purpose. And this is more the part of our nature when people talk about aligning themselves with God's will. But I will need to think more upon this before I can say much more. Suffice it (for now) that I am perfectly at peace with imposing my free will over God's will in terms of my biology with the lifestyle choices that I make. . . .and the rest is working itself out.

My House

Before I came to work tonight, I had a dream. In the dream I am in someone else's house, and over a radio I am listening to all of the commentary that people have about me and the way I live my life. The judgments about me are shocking and appalling, but I'm afraid to speak up (because I am living in someone else's house). I finally get angry enough that I don't really care what the people in the house think of me as I key up the mike and yell at the people, "Hey! I'm a grown ass adult. I'm not just 18, I'm 21! So I'm going to live my life any way I choose. . . .as long as I'm willing to accept the consequences!" And then I woke up.

What strikes me about this dream is two things: one, I was afraid to speak up because I was living in someone else's house, and two, I woke up at the point when I was experiencing a very uncomfortable emotional experience (which is a huge insight for my chronic sleep deprivation). . . .but moving on. . . .

When we live in someone else's house, we are expected to live by their rules. My house. . . .my rules. It's what parents enforce with their rebellious teenagers, and it's just respectful behavior (when we are staying in someone else's house). But what does this mean in terms of my personal evolution?

Living in someone else's house means that I am dependent upon the "lord and lady" of that house, because I am granted access and permission based on their approval of my presence. This is just a statement of fact. When I rent from someone, I am dependent upon the landlord's approval. When I work for someone, I am dependent  upon the employer's approval. When I live in someone else's house, I am dependent upon the owner's approval of me and what I do. For me personally, the more dependent I feel, the more anxious I feel about speaking my personal truth. But why do I live in other people's houses in terms of my personal power? As I so uneloquently told the people in my dream, I am a grown ass adult!  lol. . . .

As an adult in the earthly world, we move out of our parents' home and into our own home (either alone, or with our spouse), which is, of course, one of the signs of becoming an autonomous and independent adult. So what does it mean to be a spiritual adult? Which then makes me wonder about the spiritual house in which I live. For me, personally, the kingdom where my spiritual house resides is the Kingdom of God, but why do I live in other people's houses within this kingdom? Another way of saying this is, why do I remain dependent upon how other people think about me or the life I choose to live?

I think that a spiritual adult is one who makes choices about how they live their life based on not just the approval of God, but also with the willingness to accept the consequences of choices made even if and when God does not approve of that choice. That's what free will means. And God is the one who gives us free will. So if God has blessed me with the ability to make choices about how I live my life, and if I am willing to accept the consequences of these choices from God, then why do I worry so much about how other people who are not God think of me?

So the only question on my mind tonight is, spiritually speaking, whose house do I live in?

I think it's easier (on one level) to simply live in God's house. God's house is a safe and protected place, but it also means that I am then expected to live by the rules of this house, which makes me a spiritual child dependent upon God's approval of "right versus wrong/good versus bad" choices in order to remain living within this house.

But God offers more than just the Law of Moses. God offers each of us the deed to our own spiritual house. . . .a house where we are free to make our own choices. . . .a house where we alone are responsible for the consequences of those choices. . . . .a house that's built from the walls of free will, that amazing gift of God.

So, do I want to be a spiritual child, or a spiritual adult? Do I live in fear of God's approval, or do I live in God's gift of free will? Am I willing to accept the consequences of living a life that even God may not approve of? My answer is unequivocally, yes, I want to be a spiritual adult fully willing to accept the consequences of the choices I make about me and the way I live my life. But am I really ready to accept the deed to my own spiritual house?

Sitting at the Edge

I awoke this morning thinking about the scripture verse about Faith, Love, and Joy. I think the reason why the greatest of these is Love is because it's the only direct experience of these three virtues. "I love" is a complete sentence. . . .a complete experience. . . .a complete connection with God.

To say, "I faith," or "I joy," has no meaning. "I have faith" or "I am faithful" are complete sentences, but the verb, the action, the experiece is no longer the virtue itself, but rather a state of being, which is not a direct action at all. The direct action of faith is, "I believe." Faith may be one way that we describe how or why we believe, but "I believe" is a complete expereience, in and of itself, and is the direct experience that connects us with God.

There is a scene from The Matrix, where Neo is meeting the oracle for the first time, and she asks him if he believes that he's "the one." Neo isn't sure, and so she says to him, "Being the one is like being in love. No one can tell you that you're in love, you just know it, through and through. . . .balls to bones." I love this line, because it's just so true.

So, I love. . . .and I believe.

Descartes believed that the core essence of who we are, the most basic truth that defines our existence was Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. But what makes this statement powerful for me in this moment is not the emphasis on how our thoughts define who we are, but rather on how it is a direct action, a complete experience that defines our existence.

I think, therefore I am. I love, therefore I am. I believe, therefore I am. I feel, therefore I am.

As I laid in bed thinking about this, I asked myself what the direct experience is for what I'm experiencing right now, this long, dark walk I seem to find myself upon. I feel separated from God. My spirit feels damp and soggy. I feel overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks, and I feel immobilized by the weight of the overwhelming feeling, but these words only describe my experience. What is the direct experience itself? What is the completeness of language for that direct connection to God that this experience opens up for me? And then it hit me. . . .

I grieve.

I may feel trapped and stuck here at the canyon by the lack of response from any of the Prescott employers, but the lack of jobs in Prescott is actually "forcing" me to stay put and deal with what I am experiencing. Sorting through all of this "stuff" is very much a spiritual process of grieving, because I can't "let go" of the stuff until I accept the truth of that part of my life, of my journey that has led me to this point in time and place where I sit at the edge of myself.

Yes, I sort. . . .and I purge. . . and so I grieve. This is the natural order of things. I'm not depressed. . . .I don't need anti-depressive medication. . . .I am in the process of grieving. I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. Of course I feel like my spirit is damp and soggy. And, of course I feel separated from God. . . .because I feel separated from myself. I am letting go of out-dated beliefs. . . .letting go of parts of my identity. . . . letting go of unfinished and incomplete pieces of my journey. . . .and it is the embracing of this truth that connects me with God.

So, I grieve. . . .therefore I am. . . .with God.

Lightening the Load

The goal is to purge my stuff down to where I can move in one fell swoop. That's the goal. But between here and there? Oh my goodness, there is just a LOT of stuff to sort and purge!

A few weeks ago, when I attempted to move what I have in storage in Valle into storage in Prescott, I felt suffocated to open up the storage door. What do I need with all of that stuff?! Most of it has been in storage for more than a year, and I couldn't even tell you what's in the boxes, so I've obviously not needed any of it, but there it is. Good grief. . . .when I started out in life, I could fit everything I owned into the back seat of my tiny little Fiat. And now? I'm overwhelmed just to open a door!

When I was searching online for images for this blog, I found a lot of images of Jesus carrying his cross, and it made me feel tiny and petty for feeling so overwhelmed by all of this trivial and meaningless stuff. And it reminded my heart that I hold on to trivial and meaningless stuff on the level of spirit, too. And it's all of this "stuff" that keeps me burdened in my walk with God, as well. I carry everything. . . .don't let go of the things I should.

I feel the burden of this deeply in my body, today. . . .heavy and thick with just how overwhelmed it feels to carry around the weight of all of this stuff. And I'm no longer talking about the physical stuff. . . .I mean the trivial and meaningless stuff that suffocates me and makes my spirit feel like a soggy wet dog. I don't want to carry this burden any more, but I just don't know how to let it go.

The only saving grace for me today is that I know that this is not what God ever intended for me. So I continue to sort and purge. . . .through both the physical and the spiritual. . . .and pray for the courage to let go of these trivial and meaningless burdens that keep me separated from God.

I had a dream earlier. . . .I am camping with Sarra along a wilderness protected river, and we are in a tent. Two German Sheppard dogs are barking and trying to get in the tent to attack Sarra. The cat's instincts are to run, so I am struggling to hold on to her and also zip the door closed. I am fiercely protecting her from both her instincts and the dogs, kicking the dogs with my booted feet, yelling at the owner to get control of his dogs.

What is different about this dream is that it's not a dream about powerlessness or helplessness, it's a dream about me fiercely protecting a vulnerable Sarra, which is richly symbolic of the vulnerable parts of my self that needs to be protected right now.

I don't say no. That's not true; I do say no, but it's often only after a great deal of angst and anxiety.

I am moving into a different me, a me who draws lines, a me who says, "No." and means it. The paring down my Grand Canyon Facebook friends list is bigger than just what it appears on the surface. I understand that Facebook has become the new social currency, with snippets of life status that connect people in ways that out-dated "live" conversations used to, but my conscious choosing of who I allow to have contact with what I share about my life here, that is exactly the same thing as me kicking away the dogs trying to get at the vulnerable Sarra. . . .it is my way of fiercely protecting the vulnerable parts of me that needs to feel safe and protected while things get sorted out.

I love how nature teaches important life truths. I remember watching Sarra's little kittens as they first started to learn about the world. They are so completely trusting. A kitten will romp and play, even with "danger" just around the corner, because it doesn't always know what is friend or foe. A kitten may not yet know, but a cat does, and a mama cat teaches her kittens to discern between the two. . . .that's just what mama cats do. That, and fight like the dickens to keep them safe and protected.

So I think there is more change on my horizon, change that may not always feel fun and fuzzy, but a change that is going to emerge whether I want it to, or not.

Hide and Seek

I understand why I'm having a hard time adjusting to life here at the canyon post-fmla. I don't like attention. . . .positive or negative, it doesn't matter. I live my life essentially trying to stay under the radar. Out of sight. . . .out of mind. So being the focus of all of this attention right now (real or perceived). . . .yeah, really not comfortable for me.

One of my aunts once described me as a child. She said I was like a little librarian, quiet and generally off by myself all the time. I think she also said that she used to worry about me. . . .lol. . . .but I think it's a pretty good description of me as a child. I have always preferred pursuits of a solitary nature. . . .not one to have a lot of friends. . . .and I generally don't have a problem with this (in and of itself). . . .but it strikes me as odd tonight just how much I seek to avoid being seen. . . .really being seen.

Thinking of someone I met when I was in Bellingham, an artist who observed others the same way that I do, only I wasn't used to being seen like that myself. It felt eerie, strangely distant and cold, although I knew that it was the same way I observed others. . . .deep and piercing. I've had people tell me how uncomfortable they felt the first time they met me. . . .as if I were looking right through them. Yet to be the center of observation myself. . . .lol. . . .a different set of rules, apparently.

What is it, about being seen, that makes me turn away and want to hide who I am?

Such a strange paradox. . . .this reluctance to be seen, yet at the same time craving from my depth to be known and accepted. And I can't help but wonder if other people live in this kind of paradox, too. Is it something that we all do? Hide, but crave to be found?

This is exactly what I love about the journey to myself. All of a sudden I can see clearly all of the ways I used to hide as a child, yet secretly wanting to be found, like a psychological "hide and seek" that is far from being just a fun and frivolous childhood game. And it's crazy how so much of our identity as adults is invisibly wrapped up in the experiences of a long ago forgotten child.

This is why my best friend in high school had no idea about anything that was going on inside of my world, why "mirth" is the word she uses to describe me, even though I was deeply sad and depressed. This is why my grandmother once said to me (as my life and marriage was falling apart around me), "I don't even have to ask how you are, you're always great!" This is how my husband married a woman he knew nothing about, and why I have always felt orphaned and misunderstood.

The truth of who I am has been hiding in the shadows, unable to be seen or known by anyone else.

Yet, it's not really about being seen by others, as much as it about allowing myself to be seen, which is not the same thing. Other people are going to see whatever it is that they want to see, so that really isn't my concern. But for the parts of me that have been in hiding all of these years to step out from the shadows into the light of day? Now, that is a different thing altogether.

But am I really ready to be found?

There is a peace that can only be found in solitude. I can imagine a person who has been living "lost" on a deserted island for a long time might also question if they wanted to be found. To have accepted a life of solitude, especially if one finds peace within the quiet. . . .it's not an easy thing to give up, or to move out from the shadows and into the light of day. And the truth is that this person was only lost to the outside world, not really to themself.

So I guess I am ready to be found. . . .just not necessarily by other people. . . .because it's a good thing to have boundaries that separate the outside world from my inner world. . . .and ultimately, the only person who can really find me is me.

Getting SEREious about Healing

So I was standing in line at the General Store yesterday afternoon, minding my business, just buying some milk for my graveyard coffee, when I notice two people laughing in the next lane. One of them I recognized. . . . .I don't "know" him personally, but I know who he is, and he was laughing while talking into the woman's ear. She then turns to look at me, which he pulled her back. They continue laughing, and I can hear only snippets of the conversation, predemominantly. . . . she. . . . she. . . . she.

I honestly have no idea WHAT they were talking about, but it wasn't one of those warm and fuzzy moments in my life. So I left, saying nothing, of course, because what does a person say in the face of such eye-rolling human indiscretion?

I'm thinking about Don Henley's song. . ..kick 'em when they're up. . . kick 'em when they're down. . . .lol.

I know I'm not supposed to care about what these immature gossip mongers do for their gossip-minding fun, but it bothered me. And it also made me realize that I'm not being true to my own needs, because I haven't felt comfortable having vague people I don't really know be part of my Facebook world when we live in such a small, closed, gossip-ridden community. So I cleared out my FB friends who live at the canyon last night, all except for the people I have an active friendship with, and people whom I trust are not gossipping about what they read here.

I had a long conversation last night with an ex-marine who underwent SERE training. This Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training is something I don't know if I could ever do, but he talked about one three-day part of the training where they were to lay in one position for three days and remain completely immobile. . . .no matter what happens. No matter if bugs are crawling all over you and biting you non-stop. . . no matter if a jungle snake crawl around your face biting you as it leaves. . . no matter what is going on, the successful training is noted by the soldier who is able to not react to what was happening to them.

I think my time here at the canyon is my personal SERE training. . . .lol.

So, I'm moving into a new phase with my hypersensitivity right now. I'm going to start applying the SERE way of life to my PTSD healing and recovery, so that means learning how to not react to the insensitive immaturity crawling all over me psychologically. I want to acknowledge what's real, but I no longer want it to give it any more power over the real estate in my mind. . . .Lord, give me strength!

What God Says About Me!

My friend Barbara sent this link to me after my last blog:


http://branchofvine.blogspot.com/2007/06/what-god-says-about-me.html


This is what's posted on this blog....and SO what I needed to hear!!

 

What God says about me!

John 1:12 I am a child of God (Romans 8:16).

John 15:1,5 I am a part of the true vine, a channel (branch) of His Life.

John 15:15 I am Christ's friend.

John 15:16 I am chosen and appointed by Christ to bear His fruit.

Acts 1:8 I am a personal witness of Christ for Christ.

Romans 3:24 I have been justified and redeemed.

Romans 5:1 I have been justified (completely forgiven and made righteous) and am at peace with God.

Romans 6:1-6 I died with Christ and died to the power of sin's rule in my life.

Romans 6:7 I have been freed from sin's power over me.

Romans 6:18 I am a slave of righteousness.

Romans 6:22 I am enslaved to God.

Romans 8:1 I am forever free from condemnation.

Romans 8:14,15 I am a son of God (God is literally my "Papa") (Galatians 3:26; 4:6).

Romans 8:17 I am an heir of God and fellow heir with Christ.

Romans 11:16 I am holy.

Romans 15:7 Christ has accepted me.

1 Corinthians 1:2 I have been sanctified.

1 Corinthians 1:30 I have been placed in Christ by God's doing; Christ is now my wisdom from God, my righteousness, my sanctification, and my redemption.

1 Corinthians 2:12 I have received the Spirit of God into my life that I might know the things freely given to me by God.

1 Corinthians 2:16 I have been given the mind of Christ.

1 Corinthians 3:16; 6:19 I am a temple (home) of God; His Spirit (His life) dwells in me.

1 Corinthians 6:17 I am joined to the Lord and am one spirit with Him.

1 Corinthians 6:19,20 I have been bought with a price; I am not my own; I belong to God.

1 Corinthians 12:27 I am a member of Christ's body (Ephesians 5:30).

2 Corinthians 1:21 I have been established in Christ and anointed by God.

2 Corinthians 2:14 He always leads me in His triumph in Christ.

2 Corinthians 5:14,15 Since I have died, I no longer live for myself, but for Christ.

2 Corinthians 5:17 I am a new creation.

2 Corinthians 5:18,19 I am reconciled to God and am a minister of reconciliation.

2 Corinthians 5:21 I am the righteousness of God in Christ.

Galatians 2:4 I have liberty in Christ Jesus.

Galatians 2:20 I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. The life I am now living is Christ's life.

Galatians 3:26,28 I am a child of God and one in Christ.

Galatians 4:6,7 I am a child of God and an heir through God.

Ephesians 1:1 I am a saint (1 Corinthians 1:2; Philippians 1:1; Colossians 1:2).

Ephesians 1:3 I am blessed with every spiritual blessing.

Ephesians 1:4 I was chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and without blame before Him.

Ephesians 1:7,8 I have been redeemed and forgiven, and am a recipient of His lavish grace.

Ephesians 2:5 I have been made alive together with Christ.

Ephesians 2:6 I have been raised up and seated with Christ in heaven.

Ephesians 2:10 I am God's workmanship, created in Christ to do His work that He planned beforehand that I should do.

Ephesians 2:13 I have been brought near to God.

Ephesians 2:18 I have direct access to God through the Spirit.

Ephesians 2:19 I am a fellow citizen with the saints and a member of God's household.

Ephesians 3:6 I am a fellow heir, a fellow member of the body, and a fellow partaker of the promise in Christ Jesus.

Ephesians 3:12 I may approach God with boldness and confidence.

Ephesians 4:24 I am righteous and holy.

Philippians 3:20 I am a citizen of heaven.

Philippians 4:7 His peace guards my heart and my mind.

Philippians 4:19 God will supply all my needs.

Colossians 1:13 I have been delivered from the domain of darkness and transferred to the kingdom of Christ.

Colossians 1:14 I have been redeemed and forgiven of all my sins. The debt against me has been canceled (Colossians 2:13,14).

Colossians 1:27 Christ Himself is in me.

Colossians 2:7 I have been firmly rooted in Christ and am now being built up and established in Him.

Colossians 2:10 I have been made complete in Christ.

Colossians 2:12,13 I have been buried, raised, and made alive with Christ, and totally forgiven.

Colossians 3:1 I have been raised with Christ.

Colossians 3:3 I have died, and my life is now hidden with Christ in God.

Colossians 3:4 Christ is now my life.

Colossians 3:12 I am chosen of God, holy and dearly loved (1 Thessalonians 1:4).

1 Thessalonians 5:5 I am a child of light and not of darkness.

2 Timothy 1:7 I have been given a spirit of power, love, and discipline.

2 Timothy 1:9 I have been saved and called (set apart) according to God's purpose and grace (Titus 3:5).

Hebrews 2:11 Because I am sanctified and am one with Christ, He is not ashamed to call me His.

Hebrews 3:1 I am a holy partaker of a heavenly calling.

Hebrews 3:14 I am a partaker of Christ.

Hebrews 4:16 I may come boldly before the throne of God to receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

1 Peter 2:5 I am one of God's living stones and am being built up as a spiritual house.

1 Peter 2:9,10 I am a part of a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of God's own possession.

1 Peter 2:11 I am an alien and stranger to this world that I temporarily live in.

1 Peter 5:8 I am an enemy of the devil. He is my adversary.

2 Peter 1:4 I have been given God's precious and magnificent promises by which I am a partaker of the divine nature.

1 John 3:1 God has bestowed a great love on me and called me His child.

1 John 4:15 God is in me and I am in God.

Still we have 3 choices:

1. Believe what others say about us
2. Believe what our 'feeling' says about us
3. Believe what God (TRUTH) says about us.

Courtesy: www.lifetime.org

God's Opinion Matters

The funny thing about thinking that you know who you are, is that when you start observing how you actually are versus how you think you are, you just might end up not only surprised but perhaps even horrified by what you find! So for a person (and I do mean me) who has believed all of her life that she doesn't really care what people think about her. . . .lol. . . .it's a bit of a shock to find that it actually matters what other people are thinking (and saying) about me.

But here's the thing. . . .I can't really control what people think about me. People are going to think whatever they're going to think about me, so it's not really about me, at all. It's really about how they interpret what they observe about me, which is really about them. We all want the proverbial "thumbs up" from the world. . . .but we don't always get it.

The reason why this is an issue for me, is because I am observing how anxious I feel when I really allow myself to acknowledge how other people respond to me. I notice things like how an attitidue changes. . . .or the tone in the voice changes. . . .or the look on someone's face changes. . . and I wonder why.

And I have been finding myself fantasizing (a lot) about being a spy fly on the wall so that I can know what people are saying about me (and not just wonder or worry about it), things I know they are not saying in front of me. I'm not a glutton for punishment, but I am finding myself just very curious about how "the other" really thinks about me. . . .and deeply bothered by how much it actually matters to me. . . .lol.

Intellectually I can tell myself that it doesn't really matter what people think about me, but it does. We're not isolated automatons functioning by ourselves. People don't want to be your friend (or date you) when they have negative thoughts about you. Places don't hire you (or allow you to stay working for them) when they have negative thoughts about you. And even family doesn't want to interact or spend time with you when they have negative thoughts about you. So, yes. . . .it actually DOES matter what people think about me.

Life is such a wonderful social experiment. I love learning things about myself that horrify me, because it keeps me human and ever on my toes, and makes me real within myself. If I always lived up to my own expectations, what kind of surprise would that be? And when I can observe myself and embrace the inconsistency of my own being, then it widens my world and makes me more aware of the inconsistencies that surround me. And right now, the biggest inconsistency in my life is my relationship with God.

The only opinion that really matters is the opinion that God has about me.

Each time I become aware of how anxious I feel about how other people are thinking about me, I ask myself what God would think of me. And I don't mean in a superficial "God loves me unconditionally" kind of way. I mean in a real way that makes me cringe and turn away from myself because I'm not sure that I could handle the truth of how God really thinks of me. God may love me unconditionally. . . .and God may forgive me. . . .but that doesn't really address the deeper spiritual question of what God actually thinks about me in spite of the forgiveness and unconditional love.

God must certainly have an opinion about me and the way I live my life in spite of the forgiveness and unconditional love. . . .I'm just not sure I can handle this truth. I want to be able to handle it. . . .I'm just not sure that I actually can. But I need to find out. . . .I really do need to find out.

Sharilla

I may not enjoy every single aspect of life here, but it is a great gift that my job allows time for me to do what I choose when there's not much else going on. . . .so tonight I was able to organize the information from the book (about the heroes within) into the structure of the PTSD treatment group I just completed (since this is the form of deconstruction I have continued to use). . . .and some interesting pieces of information about my process revealed themselves to me.

The Innocent is actually a strong archetype for me, although it tends to manifest in the invisible "shadow" aspects. When I experience an environment as being toxic or unsafe in some way, my warrior self kicks in to slay the dragons, I isolate myself from people, avoid confrontation, then make plans to "escape" to the next environment that is a more hopeful prospect of meeting my needs. It may be my process. . . .lol. . . .but I didn't say it was a helpful process :) But one of the reflective questions at the end of this section asks about friends or other people we can identify as having a stong Innocent archetype, and I immediately remembered the story of Sharilla. . . .

Once upon a time I lived in this wonderful little house in Riverside just down the street from one of my very best friends, ever. And one day Tikki stopped by with Cody (her dog) asking if Shadow and I wanted to go for a walk. So I saddled up Shadow, and the four of us went for a walk around Fairmount Park (which was just a few blocks from where we both lived).

It was a beautiful day, and as we made our way on the far side of the lake with the dogs we noticed a swan just off the shore that was calling out to us for help. (Keep in mind that it was actually only a pekin duck, but to us on that day's adventure, it was definitely a swan :) So we were immediately engaged with the swan as she made her way toward us, telling us her tragic story as she struggled to paddle on her own. Tikki and I were able to help the wounded swan out of the water, and I took hold of the dogs' leashes while she carried Sharilla. (And, yes, the swan told us that her name was Sharilla :)

Sharilla was an amazing swan who actually shed a single tear of gratitude in Tikki's arms as we made our way around the lake, but she had been injured in some way that we never really found out why, so Tikki and I unquestioningly accepted our roles as Sharilla's guardians charged with the delivery of her to safety. And so began the mystical adventure of the day, as we also made our way through the dragons and obstacles that impeded our efforts to save the frightened, but grateful Sharilla.

What happened on that amazing day was that our predominant archetypes had been activated. Tikki was amazing. She glowed with the purity of innocence, and almost floated rather than walked as she carried Sharilla around the lake. Me? My warrior self was definitely activated, and I served as the defender and protector of both Sharilla and the graceful innocence of Tikki's archetype.

Before we found the park ranger, we encounted a very shady character that to me appeared as a thug-like bad-guy that I was ready to kick his ass. . . .lol. . . .but Tikki walked right up to him and asked him for help with the pure innocence of a child. I was actually angry with her for what I felt had put us both at risk, but we survived just fine. We eventually found the park ranger who was very helpful, and he allowed us to take Sharilla with us to the animal rescue place that Tikki knew of somewhere down in San Diego.

Our friendship survived just fine the conflict generated by the different archetypes that were activated that day, and we still talk fondly about the day we saved Sharilla from certain demise. But what I see tonight is that Tikki embodied the pure essence of The Innocent that day, completely and absolutely trusting every single person we came in contact with, and trusting that we would be both protected and supported in our charge by Sharilla the enchanted swan.

I actually really love this quality about my dear friend, even if I don't always understand this nature about her, as I get irritated with her when she goes to that place of absolute trust and archetypal innocence. . . .lol. But I get irritated precisely because my initial reaction is not a stance of trust, but rather to prepare for battle with the dragons that surround me as I flee the kingdom in flame and ruins :) And I may never develop the kind of absolute trust the way that Tikki does so automatically, but I do think that it would be a very good thing for me to empower the more productive aspects of The Innocent. . . .

. . . .but trust is not something that comes naturally or easily for me. . . .which is why this kind of work is called work :)

The Irony of Transparency

Walking home from work this morning, I was reflecting on the irony of my blog. During my fifth grade year my brothers and I lived with relatives while my mom fought to regain enough strength to walk after she came down with MS, and my only outlet for what I was feeling was the diary my mom had bought me for Christmas that year. Five months later my aunt came to believe that my diary held the deep dark truth that she somehow felt entitled to know, so she had my cousin search my room to find it. . . .which she did. . . .and I returned from school that day to find my diary in my aunt's possession. . . .with  my soul bared in a way that I was just not prepared for at ten.

The worst thing in my diary was the fact that I had called my aunt a bitch, but I was only ten years old, and it was my private diary. Perhaps it wasn't the most elequent entry I have ever made, but she had no right to search for it OR read it, and she certainly didn't have the right to read it to my other aunts and uncles who had come over that following weekend. . . .but it happened.

It wasn't until my poetry classes as an adult at UCR that I began to understand what kind of impact that series of events had on me, and through some wonderful dialogs with a professor who hated my poems, I came to understand that my poetry was written so abstractly that it functioned as if it were written in a secret code. . . .anyone could read the poem, but it was so dry and symbolic that no one could ever know what I was actually writing about or trying to say (unless, of course, I "decoded" the poem and explained the veiled truth so cleverly hidden behind the word mask). I have gone back and reread some of this early poetry, and it actually hurts my brain to do so. But it was that class--and, more specifically, the dialogs with the professor about my coded poems--that first started to change the way I write.

So here I am, all of these years later, writing openly and honestly about the struggle for wholeness in my life and posting them publicly on my Facebook page. I may embed them within posts upon my wall (rather than post directly on Facebook), but it's still posted publicly. And I have no idea who reads them. . . .perhaps they are people who are simply curious, or people who genuinely care about me and my journey, or maybe those who don't know any better and stumble upon it to unsuspectingly find what I've written. In any case, my struggle and my journey is transparent and posted for viewing by people who don't really know me otherwise.

You've come a long way, baby!

This book that I'm reading about the twelve archetypes has been so very helpful, and the information about The Innocent has been amazingly well timed, because the ultimate journey of the Innocent is the "fall" from innocence through some kind of life experience that disillusions, disappoints, betrays, or any other number of ways causes our innocence to be lost. But at the end of that process, the goal is to return to Innocence, although in an experience, more wisened form.

So I'm just finding it wonderfully interesting how I have spiraled through the layers of healing from the stolen diary and the resultant encripted abstract poems to posting about my journey with a transparency and honesty that would most assuredly surprise anyone who had the mispleasure of having to read those early poems. And what I realized this morning is that writing and posting my blog in this transparent way is the journey of my return as the Wisened Innocent, because I am transparent in direct opposition to  life experience that has taught me that people can not be trusted with my personal information. . . .and yet I post.

My therapist tells me that I continue to have night mares because I don't have a place to talk about "the stuff." So if the writing of my blog helps me to eventually be able to sleep at night, then the writing of my blog is precisely what I'm going to do, because I want to sleep and dream without being awakened in panic by the nightmares. And if other people don't understand my need to blog, then that is just part of the complexity of human nature. And, yes, it is true that there are a lot of ways that people could hurt me with the information they read about my journey (especially the people I live with and work with here at the canyon), but that is between them and their relationship with God, and (quite honestly) is simply none of my business.

My business is with God, and my blog is so much more than an ironic transformation from a top-secret-coded abstract poet into a writer blogging what's painfully real and genuine as she journeys in search of her self in such a public and  transparent way. My blog is also the every day living evidence that I am not defined by my past or the traumatic events that may have changed the course and nature of my journey. So whether anyone else can ever understand my need to write and post my blog, I know that God does. . . . and this is the only truth that really and truly matters.

As for me. . . .I need to speak my truth, and so I write. . . .and I also need to trust and have faith again in people. . . .and so I post.

There's No Place Like Home

Home. That wonderful place where we are loved and accepted unconditionally. . . .that place where we can trust that we will be cared for and nurtured. . . .that safe haven that shelters and protects us from the cold and frightening storms of life. And all we have to do is click our heels three times, while reciting the magic magic words, "There's no place like home," and you will find yourself back in Kansas embraced by love and warmth you seek.

If only. . . .lol.

I'm reading a book about twelve archetypes of the hero's journey. It's a fascinating read, and I am processing through the first archetype right now. . . . The Innocent. This is the part of our human psyche that is first developed, that part of our collective experience that has need for safe environments where unconditional love and acceptance create peace and harmony for all. It's an archetypal idyllic environment, so it doesn't exist in the real world, but that fact doesn't change the basic human need to experience it. . . . or long for it.

Many grew up with this type of idyllic home life, but for others it's a life journey to find or create this for ourselves. But what I think is most amazing about this process, actually, is precisely how even if we've never really experienced that kind of environment for ourselves, we still have the capacity to believe in its possibility. . . .and experience such an undying faith in its existence. Some may call it "utopia" or "paradise." Others find it in the realities of "Heaven." But regardless where we find it as individuals, the point is that we believe in and have undying faith in the  reality of its existence, even if we've never really experienced it ourselves.

This single fact of human experience is evidence enough for me to believe in the existence of a Heaven where God embraces everyone equally with unconditional love and acceptance. I may not understand exactly how that all works, but I have absolute faith that Heaven and God exist, because I can not have a thought that is outside of God or what God has the capacity to create.

There are twelve archetypes to be processed through in this book, so I have roughly structured out the course of my year as doing some depth work with each archetype and apply it to my life to see what emerges. I love that the Innocent's needs are about environments, because it's also a major life theme for me right now, so it's a perfect tool for some process projection.

Bernie Siegel uses this concept of the safe place filled with unconditional love and acceptance in his guided imageries for exceptional cancer patients. In fact, it's the cornerstone of his healing-centered guided-imagery meditations, only he calls this safe place "your corner of the universe." And one of the first tasks is done as he guides the listener to create is this "perfect" place in there universe where we are surrounded by unconditional love and warm beauty, that place where healing on the spiritual level can be achieved.

With God, all things are possible.

The part of the world where I have control over how I create my corner of the universe is in the spaces I create, whether that be my home, or my office, or my studio. Clients used to tell me that my office felt like a prayer closet, which was the most amazing compliment for me, personally. Maybe I have a higher or more activated need for a space where I can feel safe and accepted unconditionally, but that fact (if it is one) is irrelevent, really. I am human, so I was born with an inherent need to feel safe, to trust, to feel loved and accepted unconditionally, and to believe in the possibility that life can always be better.

These are the gifts of The Innocent.

So my focus this month is on that primal experience of innocence with which we are all born, and on the continued creation of that safe place where I am unconditionally loved and accepted. My home is the place where I have the most control over how I create it, but it's not just a physical creation, as much as it is a spiritual creation, so I will also continue to seek God in all things and all people, as that's where I have always found the unconditional love and acceptance I need.

And maybe it's not quite as simple as clicking my heels together three times while reciting the magic words, but I do believe that the "Home" of God can be found where ever we are. . . .when ever we ask.. . .so click on, little spirit warrior. . . .click on.

Great Expectations

Everytime I think about the expedition of John Wesley Powell down the uncharted Colorado River I am filled with amazement and huge respect. We take for granted how we can expect to know where things are or where we will end up at the end of a journey, but to travel down an uncharted river? Like I said, HUGE respect.

Expectations are a funny thing, how they shape our lives like the canyon walls shape the course and direction of the river flowing through it.

One of the most powerful memories from my childhood is the morning I found the nearly full tub of popcorn on the counter. I was five years old, and the night before my mom had taken all of us (me, my brothers, and Judy's two kids) to the local drive-in. By intermission everyone was asleep, except for me, and since I was only five, I was tired too! But I was sitting "shotgun," so my mom tried to "bribe" me to stay awake with her for the second movie by buying the tub of popcorn during intermission. And apparently I had fallen asleep pretty quickly, because I found that tub of popcorn on the counter the next morning with only a small indent of popcorn I had eaten before falling asleep.

That tub of popcorn (to my five year old self) represented just how desperately and miserably I had failed and disappointed my mom, so I sat up on that counter top sobbing for more than 45 minutes with some of the deepest grief of my life. For me, it is one of the quintessential self-defining moments. My mom, on the other hand, never said a word to me about it, and probably never thought twice about how her five year old had fallen asleep at the drive-in. But I was the kind of kid who all you had to do was look at me funny and I modified my behavior, so to find that tub of popcorn after my mom had bought it specifically for me? So that I would stay awake with her? Yeah, I had definitely let my mom down. . . .and here was the giant tub of evidence to prove it.

When expectations exceed reality, disappointment inevitably sinks in.

At five, I didn't really disappoint my mom as much as I had disappointed that internalized self-expectation that I had created for and about myself, that set of "great expectations" that shaped the canyon walls of my own life journey. In a perfect world I would have been able to tell my mom how I had felt, and she would have "corrected" these skewed expectations before I had permanently internalized them. . . .but I didn't grow up in a perfect world. And we don't know (as children) that we are internalizing skewed and unrealistic expectations about our selves, so it can sometimes take an entire life time for the river to erode enough of the sediments of time and experience to expose these expectations for what they are, and how they have not only defined but limited the course and direction of a life.

But internalized expectations aren't always expectations of greatness and the resultant disappointment, as the shadow set of expections that children can internalize are the expectations of failure. And these expectations hold the power to make us feel like no matter what we do, or how well we may actually do it, we will never, ever, be good enough. This set of expectations is not the expectations of greatness to which we aspire, but the expectations that we do everything within our power to avoid. This is the set of expectations I find myself unexpectedly working through now, because I am confronted (both day and night) with how I am perceiving and anticipating other people's response to my return to work after a leave of absence that leaves even me questioning my place in the world.

The only expectations that really matter are the ones that we have internalized about our self, because these are the ones that we take with us no matter where the journey flows.

There are some who do not survive the river, but rather succomb to its unrelenting force against the canyon walls, and I often wonder if this isn't what happened to my mom, but there is no way to know, for sure. But one thing is certain, and that is that you can't always tell by looking from the outside what a person is experiencing on the inside.

I have a friend who believes that we invite into our life exactly what we don't want, if that is what we remain focused on. So, is this what I'm doing? Is my focus on not disappointing people and not failing shaping the way other people are responding to me? I wonder how my experience would be different if I could just "go with the flow" like John Wesley Powell, with no expectation of the journey or the destination, to let go of the need to control this outcome and just let the river carve the canyon.

Being Human

I don't do TV, but one of my fellow coworkers was recently telling me about a TV show called "Being Human." It's about three "people". . . a Vampire, a Werewolf, and a Ghost who was murdered by the person who owns the house they all live in together. . . .and the basic plot of the show is about how they help each other to fight and overcome their monstrous natures (like how when it's a full moon they lock the Werewolf up so that he can't harm anyone). I'm generally not into underworld things, but what I love about the idea of these characters is how they accept one another's darkest nature and become allies in each other's fight against their inner demons.

In my experience, it is rare to find this kind of compassion and unconditional acceptance, because it's such a natural (human) response to turn away from the dark truth of another person's life. But to turn back around and love that person in spite of their darkness? Now, that is a rare gift of humanity. And I am very fortunate to have such people in my life, but they're not always the people that I have wanted or "expected" to turn back around and love me in spite of myself.

I relate to these underworld characters, although not because I identify with the "evil" nature of their dark characters, but rather because their dark character is not who they are or who they were born to be. First of all, something happened during their life time that changed them into the Werewolf, Vampire, and Ghost, so their spirits certainly weren't created this way. Secondly, there are very clear triggers that activate their dark behavior: the Werewolf only hunts when the moon is full, just as it's not until the "bloodthirst" kicks in that the Vampire needs to be restrained in some way. In the absence of the full moon and the bloodthirst, they are able to fight and resist the dark forces in their struggle to be human. And perhaps most importanly, they can't do it alone. . . .they need each other in order to successfully resist the dark forces that oppress and bind up their true spirit.

This is exactly how it is with my panic. There are triggers (some more clear than others) for the high-maintenance frantic behaviors that get activated with the panic, but that is precisely the point. . . .they get activated, so they are not my inherent nature, not who I am, but rather something that I experience because of the out-of-control biochemical systems within the flawness of my very human flesh. My spirit does not create the chaotic panic, but rather it is my body that cycles chaotically out of control.

The moment of truth is not, panicko ergo sum. . . .lol. . . .my deepest truth is, spiritus ergo sum.

OK, so my Latin needs some work. . . .lol. . . .but all joking aside, this is a very important distinction for me, because it means that the deepest truth of who I am is not the panic and the chaos that ensues, but rather the spirit of God that flows through all things, including me. And it is this fact alone that opens the door to compassion, because the people who love me are the ones who can see the truth of my spirit shining through in spite of my very human experience.

As for me, I do what I can to grow and evolve as a human being, and to find the strength to pick up and carry the cross I have to bear. But I also know that I am not alone in this stuggle, for each of us has our own cross to bear, our own human suffering, our own personal passion. But that's all compassion really is. . . .the ability to walk with the passion of another spirit in search of its deepest truth.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Whether or not I have planned this out, I am learning how to become an "expert" on understanding panic disorder and PTSD. . . .not because I want to, mind you. . . .but because I have to. . . .if I want to have any functionality in my life at all. This is my journey, and I embrace it fully, dive head first into the terrifying darkness of the unknown, then emerge (hopefully) the wiser for having done so.

Today I am emerging from two days of having my body and mind taken hostage by chemical peptides that were originally designed by God to help me to survive. It's called the Fight or Flight reaction, and it's that part of our instinctual survival mechanism that is intended to happen outside of our awareness, because if we had to stop and make a cognitive assessment of a dangerous situation before we responded, we would probably end up dead.

God made the Fight or Flight process. . . .to help us survive the dangers of our world.

There is a third aspect to this process, a third face to this survival mechanism, and that's called the Freeze part. If you are unable to fight or flee, then God has designed it so that the mind and body become paralyzed and immobile. It happens a lot in nature when an animal "accepts" that it's about to die, it will sort of just sit there waiting for the inevitable. It also happens when a person is unable to fight or flee. . . and so they freeze up, not knowing what to do. (This actually happens a LOT with me.)

God may have designed this process to help us survive, but Panic Disorder (and PTSD) is absolutely the Fight, Flight, or Freeze process gone wild and completely out of control.

I don't know if we're born with certain proclivities toward one reaction or the other, but what I have learned about my own process is that I don't like to "scruff" with people, so I'm typically not a fighter, but I will when backed hard enough into a situation. Although there are ways that I fight, my predominant method of response is the flight part, only I call it my "escape plan." And I am just starting to learn about this third way and how it affects me, how the "Freeze" part manifests in terms of every day process.

It's just interesting to me (sitting here safe and sane) that I have just lived through all three responses. Going to Prescott for the last of the PTSD treatment groups on Friday, the part that kicked in was the Fight response. . . .not fighting other people, but the fight against the PTSD, making plans and hoping for a better life, renting space for my creative artist to thrive on the other side of a relocation into an environment that IS better suited to meet my needs. That was the warrior in me. . . .fighting against the odds. . . .lol. . . fighting against what oppresses my creative spirit. I love this warrior self. . . .she is, quite honestly, the only reason why I am alive to this day.

And I left Prescott fueled with hope and excitement. . . .until about halfway between Prescott and Ashfork, and that's when the fear-induced creeping toxic panic begain to take hold causing a very frantic 24 hours of dealing with the trailer incidents that ended up with me spending a whole lot of money for nothing. This was the Flee part of the reaction. . . .the "it's now or never" part of the belief that helps to fuel the panic, and when it couldn't happen, the next layer invisibly kicked in, the part of my process that is much less understood.

When I returned from Flagstaff yesterday, I felt completely immobilized, both psycholigically and physically, like how even folding my laundry and putting it away felt like an unnatural act that required the sheer will of a saint just to fold one pair of socks. My brain ached, and my body just didn't move. . . .so I sat there staring off into space feeling like a failure as a human being, wondering what the hell was wrong with me, and trying to figure out what I needed to do next. Am I not praying hard enough or correctly? Am I not doing something else well enough or right? And then I had to pull myself together and go to work. . . . lol, but not until after I was able to spend the evening with a friend who understands the effects of stress, so she helped to normalize the effects the stress were having on me, and we laughed and enjoyed a wonderful evening together.

By the time I drove home this morning, my brain no longer ached, my body was trembling, and when I lay down to sleep I could feel the tension release, finally cry and feel the truth of my very young self all curled up in the darkness of her closet unable to fight or escape what was happening in the next room. And so it was that patience and compassion filled my spirit so that I could soothe the young me whom God had helped  to survive unnatural events by immobilizing both my mind and body. Feeling the truth of this and releasing the grip allowed me to sleep, even if for a short while.

This is the process I am learning to embrace in an environment that micro-manages every single aspect of our lives, so it's humbling and humiliating on a level that the average person can't really understand. There is no privacy here, no personal moments where a flawed humanity has a chance to heal behind the veil of a pulled together projected self-image of strength and confidence. So be it. . . .if people judge me here, then that is honestly their issue, not mine. I am doing the absolute best that I can, and if that's good enough for God, then it's good enough for me.

If I were a parent with a child who responded to the world in this way after having survived the chaotic environment she grew up in, I would protect this child fiercely from the judgments of well meaning, but ill informed bystanders, which is exactly what a good parent does. Maybe people don't always understand me, or the way I go through life, but I am learning how to navigate my way through an unnatural terrain created by an unnatural environment filled by unexpected wolves with rules that just no longer make sense. And I am also finding unexpected allies in healing here at the canyon (and elsewhere). So for these brave and compassionate souls, I am eternally grateful for the hugs and FBcomments of support when I feel the most ashamed and at my utter worst.

I don't think my life is any more or less stressful than anyone else's, but I do find that the way I respond to that stress is skewed and screwed. Some people drink, some hunt elk, some jump out of airplanes or blow things up as a way of "releasing" the stress caused by everyday life, but me? I fight against the panic by creating escape plans, and when they don't work, I become immobilized for a while until this toxic torrent of biochemical process releases my body and mind back to the rational, reasonable me.

I am learning, albeit slowing and painfully, how to change the way I invisibly respond to the stressors in the world, but it's the way God made me so that I could survive, even if it is, at times, way too much of even a good thing.