The Christmas Holiday and Reflection

It seems that my entire life altered when I ran into the psychopath that I married.  I recognize that I alone have categorized him as such with his female therapist labeling him as bipolar.  Learning of the latter straight from the starting gate of marriage, I was surprised, but as yet, not stunned.  Being used, denigrated, having my sense of reality and belief systems assaulted, and quite abruptly discarded when the replacement had been located, I existed in a "what is real?" quandary for more than two years.  I still appeared to function, although not as joyfully or productively as "pre-psychopath."

In the past, I would confess that I had been forever changed and I regarded that with no small sadness and loss of some ephemeral essence.  More to the point, I rather like the definition of an ephemeral stream - "a stream that flows only briefly during and following a period of rainfall in the immediate locality." Watching some British TV programming, I stumbled upon a series, "DNa," in which the lead character working in forensic investigations of the most grisly nature learns his wife has committed adultery and he finds himself shattered.  In conjunction with his work's demands and attacks on his humanity's goodness, he suffers a breakdown.  The fearful landscape of lacking comprehension of the trail of effects and their continuity along with consequences leaves him "altered."

Just as with this character, the changes did not appear to make him into something else and he rights himself, returning to his life.  Also as with this character, there exists a newly uncovered awareness of the dark side of life.  In our lives we often choose to focus on the joyfully optimistic approach and fully accept the concept of "focus on the positive" bringing us that realm of existence in a pristine state.  Fortunately or -un, as the saying goes, this has not been my reality and surely not my expertise of creating my own life avenues.

Perception alone lives as an unsatisfactory set of guidelines.  We must ACT on that perception, but remain "unchanged" into some alien caricature of our former, wide-eyes of innocent self-hood.  My oldest daughter and her two sons have moved into my home to reground, regroup, and for her to work toward a new career.
Although a slight adjustment for an oldster as myself, I am thrilled and rejuvenated by the utter "possibility" of life in all its splendid activity, movement, and exuberance.

On the other side of my connections finds my youngest daughter with a soon-to-be stepson who exhibits serious anti-social behavior.  Finally, after three years, both she and her fiance MUST look this specter fully in the face and get some aid from the mental health sector.  For the two of them, highly immersed in empathic traits,it has been a barreling train wreck as they have tried a dab or so of counseling for the young adolescent.  He mimics exceptionally well.  The turning point horrifically landed on the doorstep of "we must now act" when he hurt my oldest grandson, slamming his fingers in a closet door during a strangely manic moment of high energy play.  It was not that this mishap occurred, but that the awareness of his causing injury did not immediately cause the actions to stop.  The calm from him was eerie.

Even the shock of finding this disordered "reality" outside my own dimensional experiences with my ex-spouse and his clan who maneuvered, used, and virtually erased me after applying the tag "presently useless" cannot eradicate the best of humanity in these ever changing times.  The horror of the last school tragedy brings the knowledge closer to the forefront.

I do not believe as some do that this has always been present and we have only chosen to sweep this genuinely different aspect of humanity under the carpet.  However, awareness of a quietly creeping and now sprawling transformation in the landscape of human-kind may well push us into higher energy use for choice of living.  The ideas posed by some writers of "ascension" makes more sense to me now.  This may not arrive in a light-switch alteration of where we find ourselves living.  Choice to act upon knowledge seems an essential key.

I looked at my grandsons after the injury had been cleared and saw an angelic goodness in seeking to "see" only goodness in the perpetrator.  Although this characteristic is laudable from a viewpoint of the heart and soul, it is naive from the sculptor of creative reality.  How can one seek decency and goodness and still be aware of a darker quality?  It requires strength of character and the connection to that soul within us.  I also believe we must reconnect to our own individualized recognition of a "higher power."

Christmas offers us a most unusual opportunity of time and place to once again rekindle that link to choice of decency and sheer goodness.  We, much to my delight and utter amazement, are bigger than the worst out here.  We are stronger and more fantastically connected to a vast array of choices for decency.

The song at my grandsons' Christmas performances struck me with a more than usual emotional impact.  "Let there be peace on Earth."  Yes, and it requires responsibility from all of us.  But, for this moment of moments, there is a touch of sheer joy.  What will tomorrow hold?  We honestly can decide.

Merry Christmas!  My own heart is full of gratitude for being here now.  I am making a difference...not in some grand-scale way, but in tiny acts of kindness.  Small moments out of the hubbub of living where we stop and make a difference.  I am thankful and filled with new hopeful expectation!

Gaining perspective from NOW...

Life has certainly shared her ability to colorfully paint change to me and most especially over the last few years.  The marriage into which I threw myself with not even a whiff of second thought and view of "down the road" ended in December of 2010.  I had served my purpose and was quite rudely discarded in May of that year for the replacement already established.  Following the death of the husband to my mother-in-law, the entire clan used white out over my parts and wrote a new and rather shining work for history as they recalculated that timeline.

Although my vantage in writing Life in the Aftermath of a Narcissist has changed, the details, as I categorized them as fact, remain.  But, what has altered is my self-education and re-entry into awareness that life has a flow...there is a plan...and we do create our sphere.  That last one is always such a bugger to accept....no, there exists no "fault" to speak of, but the moment we can see that we made choices along the sine wave of time, the more ready we are to acknowledge our birthright of Divine spark in forging life with all its ups and downs.

Having said that, we still have the right, urge, and drive to morph less than ethical performances by evaluating actions with stored data and determining the play in the physical scheme.  I believe this is why so many of us find our roles within "causes" as we work to assess our part in the mishmash.  For myself, I have verged toward a more spiritual path.  Not New Age so much as simply acknowledging "a plan" of which I remain partially in the dark.  I don't care for the too often peppered quotes from gurus and seers who suggest quiet and calm responses to all.  I have the feeling that the roles into which we have been molded require different emotional balances for each of us.

There is a place for each of us and being willing to be a Don Quixote can be valid and effective.  I watched the movie, "Snow White and the Huntsman" and found myself enthralled by the graphic duality of what creativity of beauty and color in that realm had become - a barren, scorched landscape of many-hued grays and desolation of spirit.  The huntsman and prince showed compassion and valor along with a fledgling hopefulness of expectation.  Battles had to be waged and Snow White needed to find her own strength in fighting with passion and drive.  One life alone was not solely "the" part at stake.  Just as for us, characters blend with others and create together as our energies and worlds intertwine.

Moving forward in centimeters at times, I find myself now light years from the vacillating angry presence and sad sack "acceptor."  I have come to recognize the bonding potential of life's experiences which bring other strengths to us.  "Back when," I felt the man within his role as narcissistic spouse to be oh-so much greater than life.  As I pull the pictures from my mind today, he simply was not.  It was I who imbued him with traits of grandeur.

Ego was a tough hurdle for me as I had placed so much of my idea of self in my presentation of me - empathetic and wounded persona.  I forgot that "I" am just a perception of the true me.  Amazing opportunities for comprehension landed in my path as I struggled with emotional anguish and financial devastation.  With humor, I'll add that mercy dropped a nugget of kindness with the passage of rampaging hormones and the incessant need to couple. Life handed me economic hardship and a crisis of faith on the one hand, while blessing me as some Cheshire cat blinking in the night with a keener connection to family and a new-found fortitude to scale obstacles.

That old aphorism of "letting go, to let God" has proven on-the-mark.  I, too, am a part of the immense energies and bring my own bearing of history, observation, and ever-kaleidoscopic sculpting of my part in this grand play.  None of us are insignificant.

All those of us who have met in thought or contact are like some dancing disco ball, throwing perspectives onto this romance novel dance floor.  We find that "romance" isn't just the pleasurable sensation of attraction to a loved one, it actually deals with an ethical code of conduct.  In a way, we are knights in service to an idea of noble bearing, the concept of character, courage, generosity, and honor.

I think of the character Henry the V as shown in his speech on St. Crispen's Day before the Battle in Shakespeare's play.

"That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day.

...But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."

 

  

Life's "Dogs of War"...

Humanity's Beaming Countenance from a once Reluctant Connoisseur. That's me at age 60 and two-plus years out of a frightening trek through the Twilight Zone with a psychopath and his black-hole-of-needs clan.  What have I discovered?  One must diligently choose whom to allow closely into your life.  Thoughts really do matter as they are the guidance system for your spirit's growth.   What truly matters in all of this?  As I am moving forward and clearing the clutter of my life - most especially my emotional field and being stuck in self-recrimination about the pathologicals that I gave chance after repeated change to, ever hoping that my gut evaluation of being used only as a tool was incorrect.

An old flame of long ago called me the "Queen of Second Chances" and I had, until this encounter, believed that to be a positive trait.  Hubbard professed that if one sought the best in people, it would indeed manifest.  I no longer concur with this.  Pathological behavior certainly entered my realm of experience.  Is it important to seek the "why" of its coming into my sphere?  Only in taking a look at my own personality mix and traits.  We humans are a hodgepodge of grand experimentation.   And the presence of pathological contacts may be a necessity in serving as a vaccination of sorts.  

Necessary or not as speculation goes, we must become more cognizant of our environment and the creations we are putting forth.  I agree with Nassim Haramein that we are a world of co-creators and that each of us throws open our arms and gives birth to domains within ourselves and outwardly.  But it is not in our best interest to obfuscate "reality" in our endeavors.  Yes, choosing thoughts as a guide is necessary as we work on our experience of life as our energies and manifestations bump into those of others.  Shakespeare wrote about Julius Caesar's assassination in his play with Marc Anthony raging about the conspirators.  

                                                    And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

                                                    With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

                                                   Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

                                                     Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

                                                  That this foul deed shall smell above the earth."

Ate is the pagan goddess of ruin and anguish and "hot from hell" represented both the blessed and the damned.  Havoc meant to signal the time for pillaging.  All is within the realm of revenge.

My journey over this oddly colored and once barren terrain has caused me to morph into alterations of myself as I mold and rebuild my own sense of ethical stance along with my idea of faith and a higher power.  Humor has also returned as I now look at my place in this ever moving stream of being-ness.  I am reminded of the crab in Jonathan Livingston Seagull  who let go of the safety of the stream banks to sail within the battering waves, looking for what lay beyond his awareness.  The idea of revenge has fallen away and I can see the smile of creativity as I think of this quote given by the actor, Christopher Plummer, in his "Star Trek" movie role as a conniving Klingon upper echelon entry.  He wants a return of "things that were" when his people were proud and unfettered by needing to ask for help.  I feel somewhat like this political maneuverer  without the intrigue.  However, I have come to recognize that the past with its assorted ideas of virtue and choice has dissipated into the smoke of memory.  Making a tomorrow with the raw materials present along with a steadfast spirit will blaze a world of choice in tomorrow AND today...all while living the Now, bringing a joy to moments as they fly past.

My oldest daughter and her two magnificent sons of 6 and 7 have moved into my tiny house.  The change from life in a ghetto-like atmosphere has proven beneficial for "mama" and although the little guys love it here with grandma, they were never out-of-touch with their own souls" flight.  They are happy, bright, and eager for each new portion and point of time.  And, so am I.  My daughter told me that she sleeps better here with me - not as just another adult, but as "mom."  So, I can feel both God and this universe have held me in the palm of spiritual safety.  No matter what transpired, I am still me and have learned much.

Albert Einstein noted, "The only source of knowledge is experience."  As for me, I like this anonymous quote: "Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives."  For "good or ill" and that may only reside in perception.

                                    "Beam me up, Scotty."  I'm ready....

Blogs as Expressive Rites of Passage

The purpose of a blog, from my perspective, is an online rite of passage using a personal record of development and includes experiences, ideas, reflections, and evaluations.  My own trek has been to awaken my knowledge of my individual strengths and most assuredly to discover just what I believe - what I alone can validate within my gut, heart, intellect, and soul.  Communication is the transmission of information, but that by itself doesn't totally complete the definition.  For communication to be successful there must also be a receipt of the data and acknowledgement that both parties recognize that this set of facts was not only received, but understood.  The information is conveyed with the added elucidation of emotional signification.

Having the idea of psychological entities of more spurious natures sprinkled as a condiment or seasoning gives me the sense that some divine and higher power must exhibit a sense of humor.  Maybe that's to offer a different perspective for us to view.  Many pathways can be found from the ragtag bearer of emotional waves of upset to the clearly serene pundit offering authoritative wisdom.  The vast spectrum array of apparently discordant viewpoints may quite simply be part of a wholeness in this reality.  For those on a "higher" course - and once-upon-a-time this was me - pick and choose the energies that move into their spheres, free of storms of unpleasant change.  Now, I find myself able to ebb and flow a bit as I sort my own web of actuality; although sometimes wading through the muck of fallout from choices.  Especially those I didn't recognize as choices.

Why would anyone of sound mind choose the battle-weary zone of life's current instead of a land of constant tranquility?  For me, I believe that I needed to understand exactly how choice works and responds because we are not in the creative industry all by ourselves.  At the same time that we are meandering or purposefully driven, there are other presences just as busily working out their scenarios.  And these other precipitations into our larger realm bump and thrash against the walls of all this creativity.  It might be sheer delight to recognize the comings and goings of these workable and not always so feasible conglomerations of mass and action if we could, in the process, separate ourselves from the interactions of others.  And there is forever the performance of forgetting just how much cooperation we are providing for the grand stage execution.  

It seems to include the unadulterated system of "belief."  A belief is a conviction of truth when based upon examination of evidence.  And this fits into each individual presence's "reality."  Somewhat controversial for such a small work of artistic endeavor, the film, "Dogma," treats beliefs as central to our existence: "I think it's better to have ideas.  You can change an idea.  Changing a belief is trickier."  

Ah, ha!  Yes, Yoda, I do understand academically, but it's in placing this data into usable format that I can acknowledge it becoming problematic.  We in this realm of existence have agreements whereby we keep this grand complex operating with a sense of status quo.  And here is where the weeding out comes into play.

There is a sense of complacency when life runs eternally along the upscale roadways.  In shaking things a bit, we find ourselves re-evaluating this existence, our path, our purpose, time, the concept of a supreme being, and our connections with others.  We may even ask, "does it matter?"  In the comedy, "Groundhog Day," the lead male character finds that tomorrow never arrives and flirts with taking actions if there exist no consequences.  He also discovers that a game  no longer operates in such a climate, unless it is one of his own making.  And that engagement is accountability with the inclusion of the discipline and guiding philosophy of moral aspects.

It would appear that good versus bad is a viable duality of choice.  We take a bit of a hiatus when we retire into a kind of hibernation after injury.  Sooner or later we become cognizant of the casting call and know that we can decide on another audition.  This trial performance isn't about us as energy forces of spiritual import, but of the game into which we choose to gain access.  With an assault on our nature, we may find ourselves in the field of desperation where we lose our way - for a time.  Communicating with others can lend a hand to pull another toward less cloudy sight.  So, does it make "reality" any less solid?  Maybe not, but it reminds us that choice is part  of our incorporate heritage.  

Something happens when we can recognize options.  The dark night of the past occurred in that loop, but just as positively the bright prospects of tomorrow also open.  Hope and sincerity of intention in an etching of goodness begin to burn more deeply the groundwork of integrity of making a difference.    Social structures of monetary strata found a home in the schematic for this world, but so, too, did a code of courage and unflagging desire for optimism.  We have to remember faith, not as a religious tenet, but as the transit to a new way to view this lifetime.  Once we can ascertain just what we consider to have transpired, intention and focus become the most valuable tools.  We may not move by great leaps and only find our way in baby steps, but move we will.

"Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us

that dragons exist, 

but because they tell us 

that dragons can be beaten."

~G.K. Chesterton

Brainwashing as I Rebuild

In my struggles following a time with a spouse I believe to be a psychopath and his dysfunctional clan, I have recognized that my belief systems were shaken badly. What an odd way to express that.  It's better to say that I could no longer simply fall into a default mode on them.

Just what are belief systems?   Jonathan Glover, a philosopher, suggests that  "beliefs have to be considered holistically, and that no belief exists in isolation in the mind of the believer.  They always implicate and relate to other beliefs." (Wikipedia)  Glover feels that beliefs can be held fast if one really wishes it.  And this is the crux of my own experiences with that ex-partner and his clan.  Living secluded from my family and loved ones, I found myself inundated with an alien strain of beliefs - atheism and "I am all and to be catered to in total reverence." The invalid mother became the hub for this with extended family - all living at a distance and with only memories of the person she used to be - chimed in to push toward fulfilling her every whim by using anyone (me) who could be found in close proximity.  Lack of sleep, constant upheaval and chaos, ex-wives and girlfriends, an alcoholic adult son with never ending problems, the sister of the ex-wife calling round the clock in drunken and drugged states, and the ex -spouse working me every free moment to create the dream house to impress the lady contract for deed owner, as well as his tactics for my failure to do it all "correctly" with him away at work so frequently...and the forever encroaching bank levies and sympathy providers, splayed dissonance before me at each turn.

 

There are five examples where notice has taken place outlining the probability of use of brainwashing : the tactics of religious and cult recruiters, husbands who control their wives, Stockholm Syndrome, the maneuvering of beliefs and evaluations of prisoners in wartime, and with some humor, the supposed creation of Voodoo zombies.  The Skeptic's Dictionary does not totally accept this possibility of brainwashing within these accepted five areas of expressed occurrence where one can be controlled without their consent.  This dictionary suggests that an individual  chooses to follow paths outside one's belief alignment  because that being is striving "to do good."   I think there is a great deal of credence in the idea that we change direction and fall in line with alien convictions because we ARE attempting to create a better conglomeration of reality.  And that our set of beliefs are indeed connected to a vast spiderweb of these strongly held concepts.  Of course, we may also conform more readily to a new set of ideas after being terrorized or battered. This provides the "toxic cocktail." (Sandra L. Brown)

From a site called Fringe Wisdom, answering "what do we believe" defines us, our actions, and requires an amazing leap of honesty in evaluating these.  The social problem exists because so many people take on the colors and ideas of those around them without doing much questioning.  In my experience, intentions and the drive to form a cohesion, mixed with a willingness to compromise for the greater good of a unit sounds high minded and very moral, but can be deadly if we lose that connection to our core.  So, my thoughts roam to inquiries such as just to what else are my systems of ideas tethered?  Belief in a higher power, exchanges such as work or action for money, and a connection with loved ones of lineage and those with ties of ideas and the camaraderie of experience. 

All this revolves around an individual's core makeup.  Ideas tend to be rather fragile as we work at living life with others.  The desire to be honorable and do no harm provides the platform for kindness as we listen to the tenets and opinions of others.  For me, my own experience showed me that one of my basic certainties was that I could allow leeway to another or others and still not only retain my image of myself as an entity, but that I would be fine.  I felt it was my "spiritual obligation" to allow another expression of their beliefs, no matter how divergent from my own.   But in life with a psychopath, the promise of peaceful existence - that I thought was the reward for compromise - is nil and the shaking of my perception of safety within my spirituality sent me sprawling.

I don't feel that heavy guilt or lack of self-esteem played a huge part for me; however, I do think that my inability to detach from the situation of anguish with the man and his clan, from my ideals and expectations, and my Pollyanna-ish naivete led me to loop back into old habits of  coping whereby I relinquished mounting numbers of chunks of my being, watching as they floated off into space.

How does one reintegrate self with an eye toward the future?  How does one rebuild trust in one's own choices and pathways of life?

For me, these are my choices of study and work:

                Choosing the people I allow into my space of development and creation...

                Checking with trustworthy social reference points...

                Handling self-betrayal with compassion and better boundaries as I, with thoughts of courage, assess

                          who I am, my place in reality, and just what I am supposed to be doing in this here and now ...

                Providing myself with a sense of safety, sleep, and better health (even comfort foods) that will enhance  

                            my own critical thinking skills...

                And giving myself the time to evaluate before jumping at joining some groups where pleasant or     

                            intriguing ideas reside...

As in the process of brainwashing, there is a hope - and more- of the possibility of being saved from harm and destruction, and falling down that rabbit hole once again.  But instead of within the framework of brainwashing, salvation will come as I reclaim my right to choose and act upon my own beliefs with a sense of ethical vigor.

The fascinating correlations to brainwashing can now be used to create a new or reclaimed self because I will be aware of my thoughts, past patterns, and knowledge that I am claiming a direction of stability and growth.  By using my moral compass I will permit myself to decide what data from others to accept, just how I will permit it to affect me,  and know that I can, indeed, perceive with clarity and certainty just  who I am and where I'm headed.  As "Star Trek's" Captain Jean-Luc Picard would say, "Engage."

Passion

In the aftermath of time with a psychopathic entity and his clan of insane-asylum family members, I have found that two years is just the beginning of healing.  In the two-dimensional plane of reality within the prison of a relationship with a psychopath, I gave away the goodness of myself in trying to "stay the course" and save the relationship.  My own baggage, of course, came into play.  But so did society's structured answers about commitment to marriage and the need to continue to use "tried and true" methods of communication and compassion.  This presented a real-time experience analogous to the TV show, "Once Upon a Time."  

In the series, the fairy tale of Snow White overlaid itself in our 21st century setting  while continuing the saga in the ethereal realm.    Unlike the idea that either locale lacked material realism, both operated as if the other was non-existent.  My time and the upheavals shared by others coming into contact with this predator became "cursed" as I relinquished my own drives, goals, and passion for living.  The realm of a psychopath is shared with the target in terms of shades of gray.  The emotional spectrum of life created from the energies of a spiritual entity offer the predatory presence the intoxicating belief that he is manifesting a world of color, vibrant energy, and potential.  That is his illusion and we, the survivors, with kindness and a store of belief systems locked in place, not only ride this hallucination with him, but bring interest to it.

As we survivors wind our way through time and the struggles of healing from the ordeal, the most potent characteristic of life that I sorely miss is passion.  Not of the romantic kind, although that, too, is true, but the kind where I can feel power from deep inside as I move toward plans and purpose.  Why do we allow ourselves to forget the rainbow of emotional colors and expressions?  The "curse" as in fairy tales is a well orchestrated con-job.  Coupled with the drive to "be the key to enlightenment" for the object of our connection.  But, one drink from that bitter little cup drops one down a bottomless pit where the memory that we do have choice is ripped from our waking consciousness.

Time away from that flat terrain of barren landscape causes ripples in the platform of the status quo.  As if suddenly aware that the domain of living had been within a nightmare, light trickles from the edges and we can sense the opportunity to actually choose which side of the Force we want to use as our sandbox - the light or dark, just as in "Star Wars."  However, vigilance is mandated because the forever seeking side of us - the one that determinedly searches for challenge, a path for conviction, and a place to use heroism - will move into a default mode where these overmastering desires may be conjured with whatever raw material can be located at hand.

Using cute abbreviations to name the predators on the psychopathic continuum changes our perspective of them.  We can see them as like us, but wounded.  They are not.  They are vastly different than we within the definition of humanity which possesses character strengths such as decency, camaraderie, and compassion.   Evil may not possess a particular game plan other than to decimate anything within its path.  

Perhaps the keystone to releasing survivors from the delusion of the painfully stifled continuing on a two-dimensional plane is the influx of passion in any form.  To accomplish that, it's just like the reverse effects when Snow White takes the poisoned apple.  This "poisoned apple" is the unknown.  Fearing the Hell of a new unknown churns more fear than remaining on the desolate field of gray.  The determination that the fruit is poisoned isn't accurate for us, the survivors.  Only for the predators.  As in the fairy tale, we may swoon to the ground, but we are still there within us - in a possible 3-D projection booth.  

The predator may see potential.  We of the humane realm see possibility.  And this is magic.  Possibility requires the force of three dimensional living where potential rests on a two-dimensional maybe. This particular thing, defined by its attributes as a  predator, cannot grasp the expansive awareness and activation of choice that the empathic target possesses.  There exists no way for the chameleon to actually feel what he portrays.  The moment we survivors comprehend our amazing color scheme of living, we will release the shackles to this "what if" fairy tale and begin a new adventure where our own soul's prism will open grandeur and an ardent dedication to experiencing the light side of "The Force."

From "Star Wars":

Yoda: Named must your fear be before banish it you can.

Luke at the mouth of the cave: "What's in there?"

Yoda: "Only what you take with you."

Love Invents Us ~ Amy Bloom

This delightfully and strikingly crafted line from the inside jacket of Amy Bloom's Love Invents Us touches me with the truth of a soul's mirror:

"Love takes <all> in this rich novel into unimagined places and unknown parts of themselves. It doesn't heal them or save them or hand them a happy ending, but it takes them to harbor, and points the way home."

That sums my own experiences in the land of "experiential awareness" over these last few years.  Having attained what I felt to be a rather laudable standing of spirituality and general awareness, I threw myself into marriage with a most unusual man and his clan of family and extended members.  The oddball surprises and chaos within the framework of this group were, to me, just "homework" assignments as I worked to put my beliefs into practice.

Within the emotional tsunami that slammed my growth potential, I chose a form of personalized amnesia.  I have found myself at this bus stop in time: whether he was a psychopath is totally irrelevant to my "now."  I can remember the stresses of "choice" and knowing that this little motion picture was not as I had envisioned my continuing directorial examples to play.  I thought I comprehended the communication theorem and the ability to "live in the moment."  However, I not only lost touch with that fallible "me" but also let go my dreams and goals for the time following the "I do's."

My youngest daughter and her fiance gave me a media streaming apparatus that I have been thoroughly enjoying.  I watched "Vanilla Sky" yesterday and found myself mesmerized.  Oh, it's a great psychological thriller and falls well into my schematic of belief systems with creating one's own reality.  I felt myself buoyed with the knowledge that there are nightmares, but there is also genuine joy.  That, friends and fellow travelers, had eluded me for quite some time.  And as the movie ends, with the protagonist freely electing to leave his cryogenic sleep even with the interactive dream being corrected to avoid frightening streams of living experience, he faces his fear of heights in the other-world and jumps.  The screen opens with an eye looking at the camera and someone telling him to wake up. 

Why rejoin the "real world"?  Because there - in that waking awareness - can be found possibility and potential.

During these few years following the anguish of non-comprehension and the loss of faith in myself and my belief systems, I lost passion from my life stream.  Fear became my adorned four-poster bed and the fairy tale I thought I desired taunted me with the thought that I might not be able...not be cognizant enough...incapable of being the hero of my own life.

It's not true.  This trek through what felt like no-man's-land was a gift.  My emotional shell has been purged and realigned and I am - surprising to myself - tough, but much kinder than I was before this jaunt into disillusionment.  I have taken a look at my own part in the multi-act performance and can view my personal foibles, some not so minor.  It's not so dramatic as placing the carcass of that dream on a burial pyre, but I have set it adrift.

Returning to where and who I was before this lesson, I am not in the same place.  T.S. Eliot wrote about time, healing, apocalyptic journeys, and redemption.  His quote is fitting: "We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."

So, as with the title of Bloom's book, Love Invents Us, I am opening the gates of my heart and soul for passion in living once more.   It isn't that we mirror another's desires - from the point on which I find myself now - but that we can be greater of spirit and soul with a passion in this lifting the veil of life-choice.  Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote that "Passion rebuilds the world for the youth. It makes all things alive and significant."  When I view my vital statistics in this moment, I realize I am the one taking its pulse.  There is energy with a hint of purpose drenched in a warm smile.

The Man of La Mancha am I?

This is my first blog under my changed direction - toward more "light."  Well, that was the plan.  But, as is said, "the best laid schemes  of mice and men..."

Robert Burns wrote the poem about a field mouse whose house is ploughed under despite the attempt to find the best and most secure site.  John Steinbeck, an amazing author, borrowed this line for his novella, Of Mice and Men.  The work always struck me with a sense of the way of physical lifeblood.  There is a theme of hope and yet futility in the negativity of some aspects of mankind's community.  Steinbeck's writing shows vulgarity of language, but it is a play on the ugliness of some levels of living.  The plot deals with two migrant workers as they move from place to place seeking work.  One is mentally challenged and the other, an intelligent man, is his aid and protector.  With a purpose, this man finds direction.  The burly mentally handicapped man is a danger because he does not comprehend his own strength.  It's not a happy read.  But, Steinbeck wrote in a journal:

"In every bit of honest writing in the world there is a base theme. Try to understand men, if you understand each other you will be kind to each other. Knowing a man well never leads to hate and nearly always leads to love. There are shorter means, many of them. There is writing promoting social change, writing punishing injustice, writing in celebration of heroism, but always that base theme. Try to understand each other." (Wikipedia)

A brief time ago a development came into my awareness regarding a set of written attacks on an author- acquaintance of mine, Thomas Sheridan.  Finding his Puzzling People, the Labyrinth of the Psychopath following my marriage to a man I believe to be a psychopath, at least residing somewhere on the continuum from narcissism to psychopathy, aided me in my uphill trek of recovery.    The author of the opposing camp, Laura Knight-Jadczyk holds the reins of Sott.net, a fascinating site of "what if's."  I have a fondness for the channeled entity, Seth from Jane Roberts' books and have delved into ideas outside the norm myself but labeling a competitor a psychopath and using posts of followers against the individual feels more than an advertising edge for sales of an upcoming publication.  The idea that any publicity is good PR doesn't ring true.

This strikes home to me as an infringement of not only the control of ideas, but the very core of thought processes.  In my time with an individual whose entire clan lived on shifting sands of constantly changing reality, the mix with my own belief systems almost sank me in a bog of uncertainty.  I was not blessed by other-worldly beings who guided me - to my knowledge.  My path took me through introspection of my own being and concepts of an All-That-Is along with ideas of creating my life and world.  And I could not balance the fog of this clan's insanity with my sense of self-imposed "imprisonment" - as I struggled to keep the marriage.  There needed to exist a bizarre juggling act to accept the "Twilight Zone" effects with the potential goodness I had assigned my spouse and his family.  In the process, I found myself drowning in the ideology that had no sequence of cause and effect linked with compassion and empathy.

So, even in my days of now living quietly (Sandra L. Brown), I have to look toward the oddball romantic in "The Man of La Mancha" as he undertakes battles to express his ideals and identity.  Sheridan has closed his facebook pages and blog sites as he embarks on new trails of exploration, but the awareness that one with a large congregation of followers can denigrate and label any as "psychopathic" without personal knowledge, is a cheap and damaging way to use Dr. Robert Hare's checklist. Jon Ronson in his book, The Psychopath Test, comes to a similar conclusion as he humorously, but with a nod to humanity's need to categorize, can find himself "seeing psychopaths everywhere."

The containment of thought processes entails more than freedom of speech.  It tends to direct the ability to look from a broader vantage point.  Loyalty to people with whom we have found affinity must not deter individual pathways of search, experimental testing of the waters, and personal growth.  Personal ethics still exist.  Steinbeck's observation that we must try to understand each other carries the flag of decency and compassion.  Let's not leave those traits at the door.

A section from Dr. Kevin Barret, a columnist I stumbled upon, in one of his articles sums this quite well.  He cites Simon Baron-Cohen – an expert in brain pathology, especially the types of brain malfunction linked to psychopathy and other empathy-deficit-disorders.  Writing about the film, "Borat,"  it "shows how dangerous it can be if small un-empathic acts go unnoticed."

The Bridge to Choice...

Peter Shepherd of Trans4Mind has been a beacon of light and a genuine appreciator of humanity an
d all her glorious potential - and a peripheral "traveling companion" of mine for many years.  Another remarkable journeyer, also a psychologist with higher awareness, Robert O'Connor, serves as another "wake up and make your choice" advocate.  Both kind, compassionate, and on the bridge to "beyond obstacles" for living a life of grand adventure.

My post today is short and serves to tell the universe that I am moving forward.....Let's see where that light, just up ahead, leads.  As Captain Kirk on "Star Trek" said when giving the order to navigate his Enterprise and her crew, "That-a-way!"

Thank you to all of you magnificent presences who have come into my life - learning has such enlightenment WITH a SMILE! 
                                    Heather Tolon (amazing daughter)
                                    Leigha Harden (magnificent daughter)
                                    Martin Green (Facebook friend)
                                    Tonette Skube (cousin and seeker of choice)
                                     Betty LaLuna (Facebook trekker and heart companion)
                                    Sandra L. Brown (the compassionate pusher toward comprehension)
                                    My brother, Hugh with his new wife, Glenda, as they LIVE in the NOW
                                     AND ALL THE OTHER GLORIOUS BEINGS - FLYING and DANCING
                                                      TO THEIR OWN SONGS!

Later....(: