Heart Hurting

Posted on May 15, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
Woke up with my heart hurting.  At first I made it be that I was bad and selfish and stingy that my heart was so cramped.  Then I thought perhaps my heart hurt so much because of unhealed wounds from childhood.  Then I thought — but I do love, I do care, I care about many things and they are all in trouble, no wonder my heart hurts.  Then I got up, made tea, lit a candle.  Bella snuggled up next to me.  Then I thought about softening around the pain in my heart and that eased something.  Then I felt a gush of compassion for my heart, my loving baffled wounded heart.  I think of Little Jenny, trying to love a mother who could not receive her love.  My heart feels soft and vulnerable, and sore, raw, exposed to the rough edges of the world.  I see Little Jenny, with that baffled & sad look on her face, trying to love a mother and grandmother who rebuffed her efforts, and at the same time demanded something from her that she did not know how to give.  She didn’t even know what it was, she just felt the pressure, and knew that what she could offer was inadequate.  What they wanted was for her to make up to them for the sorrows of their lives, among them a husband gone to war, and a son and brother dead of leukemia.  I think Uncle Jess died when I was two.  That major event must have impacted me, and from what I know of Mom & Granny they wouldn’t have been able to mourn.  They wouldn’t have known how, and there would have been plenty of societal pressure to keep up a brave front.  There was a war on, other people were losing sons and brothers.  I never thought about the impact of that death on my Grandfather Clark, but it must have been hard for him, his only son, his namesake, dead at 19.  Lesser tells a story of a family who lost a son (one of twins) at 21, and how it tore them apart, how they had to do an enormous piece of work around it before they could come back to life.  I think in that same time period there were other losses.  Mother’s Grandmother Davidson — I think she was the one Mother said she really loved — tho I’m also not at all sure when she died, it might have been much earlier.  But during the war years Dad’s mother died, and also Aunt Carolyn’s first husband (who I think died by suicide, but of course that wasn’t talked about either.)

I wish I had the gift for fiction, to write about that time, that family, all those losses.  My heart feels totally vulnerable, raw, open to the cold winds of loss and change.  I’m feeling such compassion for Mom & Granny, and also for Baby Jenny.

ElizabethLesser’s book Broken Open

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Trauma

Posted on May 14, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
I was getting ready to go to Lore (my art therapist), but didn’t have much to take for the Retablo project I wanted to work on, I could feel the possibility of being torn apart, my resistance to it, and my wish to open the closedness and have a wider life.  And it occurred to me that before the caterpillar gets “torn apart” it puts itself in a safe cocoon.  THAT’S what I need.  Not to subject myself to outside forces.  I tried that.  I’ve thrown myself into so many things – California in the 60’s, etc. that were nothing but disasters because I had no idea of what I was really up against: an insidious form of PTSD and a family of origin who taught me to believe that everything I suffered from was my own fault.  Because the trauma didn’t come from an obviously recognizable external event, it’s been very hard to validate.  I’m still struggling with accepting that I’m so damaged.  And I’m still struggling with accepting, even being able to see, my limits, to really understand what I can do, and what I can’t do.  “And the wisdom to know the difference.” The tightening financial situation has forced me to see that I can’t continue giving away money to causes I profoundly believe in, and that I can’t build the house for Eleanor that I had hoped to build.  It became clear to me at some point that I couldn’t do the work of helping design and make decisions, but I thought I could pay a team of others, but now I can’t even do that.  And I feel bad about it rather than relieved.

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Self Love

Posted on May 13, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
So it looks like, right now, Spirit is forcing me to cocoon, to pull inward, to face the hard and difficult task of learning to love myself in all of my confusion, pain, passion and generosity.  In my ability to teach dance and hold space for others, and in the times when I give in to despair and nothing in me fights back.  I’ve had such opportunities this year to learn to love the spiritual warrior blazing with passion to help the oppressed, and to learn to love the traumatized baby who needed me to turn inward and take care of nothing but her needs.  But now I’m back in a time where loving myself looks like such a mistake, both PROFOUNDLY morally wrong and wicked (“how could I possibly do something so evil”) and just plain impossible (“how could I possibly love someone who’s such a mess.”)

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Guidance

Posted on May 12, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
Dear Guides & Guardian Spirits, I’m feeling pretty bummed out.  I have short times of feeling OK, but it doesn’t last.  Can you help me?
Dear Jenny, we love you, we love you very much.  Actually there are a lot of people out there who love you.  We think you are doing the thing of checking to see if what you are doing is making you feel better.  This doesn’t really work.  Better to do something because it’s worth doing — like organizing the CD’s — and when your energy flags, it’s OK to sit quietly and pay attention to that part of you that’s so unhappy.  She has good reason to be unhappy — all her early experience taught her that there was no one she could count on for guidance and support.  There was no older, wiser, trustworthy person she could go to for help when she was hurting and sad.  Your job now is not to make it OK for her, it’s just to be with her, let her have her feelings, and hold both of you in compassion.  That’s all, dear, that’s really all you have to do.

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Breakdown, continued

Posted on May 11, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008.  After having a very bad time in August-September of 2008, I had a little respite in October & then things got bad again in late November.)

Trouble eating yesterday, slept badly last night.  It’s 10° out.  I’m also cold because I’m depressed.  I lit a fire for moral support as well as warmth.  I find I’m wanting to be stingy with wood — as though that would help the financial crisis — but that seems silly.
Made tea hoping it would perk me up.  My heart is still hurting.  Intellectually I have hope, but emotionally I’m sad, scared, and confused.  also overwhelmed.  I feel like a kid trying to do an adult’s job and failing miserably and there’s no one to ask for help.
We’re all in this together — there must be a lot of people out there who are feeling as scared and defeated as I am.  What makes it hard is we’re so isolated.

Called Karen, she called back.  Reminded me that I know what to do, that I don’t have to do anything, that the frightened baby needs gentleness, that paying attention to my butt on the couch was “good enough.” I remembered that if I could just make the time interval short enough that would help but I found it very hard to do.  Also so hard not to be angry at myself for being incompetent.  I told Karen how I would think of doing something like walk the dog and feel all my energy & substance drain out of my body.  She said “that’s the thought — stay out of thinking mode.” Hard to do but I keep working on it.  Also said, reminded myself, that I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to teach dance last night, but I was fine when people showed up.
SO. I did all these things despite being afraid when I thought about them:
1) taught dance
2) took a shower
3) made supper & ate it
4) called Lore for an appt
5) called Kellie for an appt
6) watered the plants
7) made an appt wed to get snow tires on
8) cut Bella’s nails on her front feet (good for me!)

I am actually being able to do things, not failing to cope as badly as I think.

I think I started to do better after Karen pointed out that even though I felt I couldn’t possibly do something when I thought about it, when I actually went to do it I was OK.  I made a list of things I had managed to do and kept reciting it to myself, I tried my best not to think, I did a couple of 20 min rounds of counting my breath.

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Guidance

Posted on May 10, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
Dear Guides & Guardian Spirits, I’m feeling sad & scared & confused.  Please help me.
Dear Jenny, one day at a time.  Going to a retreat with Jack Kornfield is good, it will help strengthen your practice.  About the financial picture: you are scaring yourself by extending current reality into the future.  You do not know what will happen.  No one knows what will happen.  There is a lot of fear out there.  You are feeling isolated, but the truth is you humans are all in this together and we are in it with you.  All of us who love the earth want to see an economy that is sustainable and people living good lives based on cooperation.  Many people are out there working for exactly this.  You are not alone.  Your part of the job is to maintain Neskaya as a sanctuary, and you are doing that.  Do not be afraid.  You are in the hands of God, and you are not alone.
Thank you.  I feel warmer and lighter.

I could feel the love coming from my Guardian Spirits, and it reminded me of the line in Belleruth’s guided imagery “All the love and sweetness that has ever been felt for you…” and I always feel grey and empty — I can’t imagine anyone has ever felt that for me.  I “know” at some level that’s not true, but I can’t feel it, can’t convince myself.  Back in the days when I recited “Ron loves me, Trudi loves me…” they had both said explicitly “I love you”, and many others I felt sure of.  But now I feel really unsure.  I think about one friend — surely she loves me, she has certainly acted like it and tells me so — but I can’t imagine it because I can’t believe she still loves me despite all the things I haven’t been able to do for her.  [This sentence reflects my belief that if I can’t do something someone needs or wants, then I don’t care about them.]  Another friend has expressed caring for me, but I can’t believe in it or take it in, because— because what? I feel like I’m always making things difficult for her.  I also imagine that she’s jealous because I have money and don’t have to work.  I did think about two people I know really love me and feel “love and sweetness” toward me: Beverly Decker and Cathy Jay.  Thinking of them helps a lot.  Also thinking about Beverly Woods, and Karen Collins, Jo, Jesse, Jerry & Lisa who said “we love you and want you to be well.” Then I wondered if the earth loved me and felt a great gush of love from under my feet.  I got tears in my eyes.  Yes the earth does love me.  I can rest on that.  And god loves me too — “whatever you have done or not done.”

“Don’t care” see post for October 26, 2010

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Ask Us Who We Are

Posted on May 9, 2011 by jenny

Went to St. Johnsbury to see Bess O’Brien’s latest documentary Ask Us Who We Are.  It’s about foster kids and foster families.  Powerful.  Painful.  Kids crying out “How could she not love me?” Wrongful stereotypes — like it’s the kid who was the problem not the parents.  Mothers talking about how painful it was to give up their kids, but wanting the kid to have a better life.

The film about foster children hit me harder than I expected.  I was feeling sad & lonely yesterday too, but today there’s the added component of the heavy weight of despair. Hearing the foster kids say things like “How could she give me away unless she didn’t love me?” and “It’s the worst pain there is — to be rejected by your parents,” hit really hard.  I felt slammed in the deepest wound of all, the feeling of not deserving to live.

Most of the foster kids interviewed were teens or in their twenties. There were pictures of them as small children looking like anybody’s kids, and then tales of drunken fathers who beat them up.  There were two painful but wonderful stories of women who were addicted, and gave their children up because they wanted them to have better lives.  In one case the woman did manage to get off drugs, but she knew she couldn’t promise never to start using again.  What happened was that she was able to make friends with the foster mother so she can still see her daughter.  The other mother, who gave up her very young son, was thrown out by her abusive husband when she was pregnant again, and she knew if she kept using that it would be like killing the infant.  So she got off drugs, made a life for herself, and got back her son.  I was very much moved by how hard some parents are willing to work to be able to keep their children, to be good parents.

My parents were alcoholics, and it never occurred to them that their drinking might be harming their children.  As I think back I realize that neither of them ever gave up anything or worked hard at anything to be able to give us better lives.  After I learned about alcoholic families, read books, participated in groups, I told my mother that I didn’t come to see her more often because I was hurt by her drinking. She said, as nastily as possible, “Well then you’ll just have to hurt for a long time, won’t you.” Only after she died did I find Marshall Rosenberg’s Non-Violent Communication, and I realized what a fine skill it would have been.  Of course telling her she hurt me would set off resistance.  Instead of trying to convince her, I needed to find a way to speak my own truth.

Some new learnings from the film: a foster mother said that foster parents shouldn’t expect the kids to feel glad or relieved when they get to their new home.  Their lives have just been turned upside down.  They want to go back home where everything is familiar.  The other thing I didn’t know is that foster kids get harassed by their classmates.  The stereotype is that the CHILDREN were bad, not that the parents were not treating the kids right.

Sitting in my car outside the grocery store I suddenly realized that what I really wanted to do was gather them all up and bring them home with me.  Of course, I know better.  I don’t have the skills or the energy to take on a troubled child.  Although I probably understand better than most the anger and grief that they feel.

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Somatic Experiencing

Posted on May 7, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
Yesterday, with Caryn, I talked about Obama “We elected him!” and she asked how that “we” felt in my body.  It was hard to say.  I felt strengthened, held upright — warmer — it was a good feeling, but I can’t recover it here & now.  As I talked about Obama I paid attention to what was happening in my body — that sense of renegotiation.  Then there was a feeling of tingling on my skin which became a sort of bubbling in a layer just under the skin.  I began to feel that push to rush out & do something, but I recognized that I didn’t want to do that any more and made a gesture of pulling my arms back and circling the space in front of me.  Then I could feel the energy in my abdomen.  What a shift.  I had a sense of being upright and completely relaxed.  There was tension down the top of my arms that wouldn’t relax.  I began to recognize that as being a gesture of hanging on, or the one I know well of “holding myself up” — but I didn’t have to do that any more, holding up was happening.  I was remaining upright without effort.  Caryn talked about the physiology, how that was the body’s response to gravity.  After a bit I felt like collapsing, but forward not back, so she brought out a small physioball and I hugged it — it was just right, I could feel it breathe.  We propped up my sternum & chin & elbows so I could completely relax — it felt wonderful.  I felt like a child — fat arms & legs — & also like a baby bear.  I had felt like an adult bear earlier, feeling my anger and wanting to make a gesture and sound GRRRRRR! a little confusion about the gesture — were the palms facing out or in — but I’m pretty sure it was not about attacking but about defending territory.  After I had enjoyed the relaxation for a while, we saw that there was a very little time left.  I asked for a story and she told me “The Seven Hats of Jizo” which was very sweet.

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Good Dancing

Posted on May 6, 2011 by jenny

(Written in November 2008)
Good group for dancing last night.  I went through the jukebox & wrote down dances we haven’t done in a while.  I picked a few of them & also asked for requests.  Surprised myself by doing a fairly lively program: Jacob’s Ladder, Az, lively Kyrie.

The core of the centerpiece was the candle & flowers & some items from Iona’s celebration.  Linda had put candles around it with symbols of different religions.  Sufi group had contributions from members about different religious groups & figures.  We sang the Peace Mandala chants along with the tape.  It was a good lead-in to our dance celebration.

It amazes me that I have so much energy for dancing and so little for the rest of my life.

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Cranky & Irritable

Posted on May 5, 2011 by jenny

(Written in October 2008)
Feeling cranky and irritable.  I felt this way yesterday and Sunday too.  Bored.  Dissatisfied.  What’s that like in my body?  Slight tension, slight discomfort.  Hard to get a handle on.  Not as clear as fear or depression.  Frustrating.  The discomfort tends to drive me to do something — even the computer solitaire which is how I noticed it on Sunday.  I feel hateful, bad.  I don’t feel loving.  And I don’t want to be bothered.  I don’t want to have to be nice to someone.  I want to be able to disappear into a murder mystery.  Paying attention, I notice that there is some tightness in my breathing.  There’s actually quite a lot of tension.  And the sores on my tongue which I’ve had for several days now.  It’s possible that I’m worried about seeing the doctor today, worried that he’ll try to bully me into doing more than I want to.  What is the need behind this feeling?  Solitude?  Be able to focus on my own needs?  Put myself first?

Feeling cranky, irritable, dry & thin.  What’s Jack Kornfield’s acronym?  RAIN: Recognize, Accept, Investigate, Non-identification.  The last one is the hardest: of course this is me.  I try to separate from the energy, see it as someone “other”, and up comes an image of one of the children in the book about the Montessori classroom: running around the room pushing over other people’s projects.  This is a child with a lot of energy who has not been allowed to express herself, to do things her own way.  She wants to have friends, she wants to cooperate/collaborate with other children on projects, she wants them to help her with HER project — but she doesn’t know what that is, she’s never been allowed to find out, and she doesn’t have any skills for relationship.  I wonder if this is the creative part of me, angry and bored because she hasn’t had a chance to do anything creative in a long time?  I did manage to cut some strips of cloth, take everything off the Moon Woman, and separate a piece of grapevine to wrap her body.  I wonder if, instead of playing solitaire, I were to go upstairs, and start the “pointillist” work of dipping my fingers in the paint and making dots?

With Karen I talked about how, on Sunday, I had recognized the tension and not allowed it to drive me into overwork and collapse.  I think this is the first time I’ve been able to be conscious of that energy instead of letting it drive me down the path of action and only waking up when I collapse.  I was feeling it as a tension which I just couldn’t relax down any further.  I could refuse to let it drive me, but I couldn’t make it go away.  Karen made the nest and I sat down in the middle of the cushions.  I enjoyed the resilience and softness of the pillows, pushing at them with hands and feet.  Then I was able to relax.  I did some stretching, reminding myself of the tension-relax technique.  With Karen’s support I was able to accept the tension and allow my body to negotiate — bits of relaxing with bits of tension.  We also talked about how this time period involved re-negotiating my boundary, how I had made an absolute NO while I was in trouble: NO to requests for money and action, but now as I’m feeling better I’m more willing to start doing and giving again.  But each one needs to be negotiated with that feeling inside that I’m really beginning to pay attention to.

RAIN  The Wise Heart p101

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