whispered announcements are juicier

I thought about not actually posting this, but I wanted to at least keep the ladies who have shared themselves with this project posted on what I've been doing with their stories.  They were so brave in putting themselves out there for others.  I can follow their lead and be brave in letting people know what my plans are. 

"Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, and magic in it. Begin it now." ~ Goethe

It's one of my favorite quotes.  Beginning things isn't usually difficult for me, but sharing what I'm doing is.  I'm a fox.  A natural blender inner.  I know how to go in cognito with what's really going on for me, but I need to dip my toe in the pool of being more transparant with my work.

You're Invited

So about those support calls!  Let's start next Tuesday evening at 8 pm Eastern time.  For this first conversation, I'd like to talk abuse and domestic violence.  Our histories of experiencing or witnessing it, and what we've done to heal from those experiences.  Everyone is welcome.

Where:  Wherever you're comfortable with phone in hand.

When: Tueday, May 1; 8:00 pm Eastern time

What:  Support call and discussion of experiencing and healing from abuse and domestic violence

Be sure to bring lots of loving-compassion and tolerance for those who's experience may have led them to different ideas and beliefs than those you hold dear!

If you are interested in joining the conversation, please contact me either through email (on my profile page) or here, on Facebook.  Little Hearth has a brand new little page over there.  I'll pm or email you the number to access the call. 

Looking forward to hearing from you!

~Anna

Climbing the Stairs

Two days ago, I hit a low. I had a winter low, too, a couple of months ago. That low was inspired by the realization of the big dark fear I'd been carrying around with me all my life. This low was inspired by the realization that I was still participating in an abusive relationship.

Part of the project I'm working on involves me writing about my personally history with abuse. I've always considered myself a witness of abuse rather than an abused person. As far as I was concerned, my personal experience of direct abuse amounted to a handful of occurences where things had gotten out of control, or I had butted my nose into other people's business, then shared the burden of being abused for the evening.

As I began to write my story, I saw the accumulated events together in one place for the first time. Oliver would read through it and say, "What about this time, or that thing that happened?" I would cringe and say, yes, that needs to be included, too.

It got to the point that, even though I'd been working steadily for months on this project, taking care to nurture myself through the difficult material I was immersing myself in, I'd sit down to work and feel immediately ill. My muscles would cramp, my stomach would knot, and my mind would not allow me transmute my memories through my fingers and onto the page. My whole self was in resistance mode.

For three weeks this went on. I'd squeeze out a few paragraphs and then collapse in a heap of exhaustion unable to cry, unable to think. Then Easter happened. It was like the time that my high school sweetheart finally slammed me up against the wall shouting in my face. It took an amount of violence at the time for me to see that I was in a terrible relationship. While there was no physical violence over this past weekend, there was undeniable evidence--which still took me a few days to acknowledge--that this relationship that I didn't know how to live without was indeed directly abusive, and always had been.

That realization catapulted me into about 24 hours of depression, which I am no stranger to. I feel so deep and so suddenly that I could not even remember my usual tools to wake back up to my life. I actually had to ask Oliver to remind me how I best heal during this moments.

I could sense that it wouldn't last long if I just surrendered to the grief, because that's what it was. Just grief. Grief for the relationship that had to end, just like that, once I finally allowed myself to see the true nature of it. Grief for the last little bit of innocence that I carried around in reference to that relationship. Grief for myself and all the shit I've trudged through all this time, while trying to salvage what hope there was left for a semblance of normalcy and real love.

This morning I looked in the mirror and told myself that I don't have to worry anymore, because I won't let anyone hurt me that way again, and that I really and truly am at long last safe and secure, both within myself and in my surroundings.

Since Wednesday's plummet to the dark, damp basement of my psyche, I've been methodically climbing the stairs back up to ground level, and with each step I climb I see myself a little more clearly. I see what I'm worthy of, and capable of. I grow more firm in my resolve to keep going with this work, and I grow more sure of the truth that I'll figure it all out. Everything I'm not sure of right now...I'll figure it out.

I am releasing my need for perfection. I am redefining humility. I am acknowledging the rage that is splitting me at the seams.

Mostly right now, this moment, I am grateful for the presence of the stairs. They were not always there, and they did not magically appear. They are strong, sturdy wooden stairs, built by me during the last ten years of trying to get a grip. Once upon a time, the stairs were not there, and I stayed in the deep darkness for a long, long time until I pooled my resources, picked up a hammer, and got to work, building my way out.

Even as recently as last month I was beating myself up for my lack of productivity over the past decade. All I'd done was produce two human beings and heal myself from a childhood of abuse. I didn't see anything worthwhile that had come from that.

Until I fell face first into that deep dark space, and clammered around until I grasped my salvation. Sturdy stairs of wood and nails built to last a life time, right there where I left them.

Thank you, younger me, for having the presence of mind to start building your way out. It was very well done.

The In-Between

My old way died today. I'd been resisting it, though I knew it was coming. Of course it would happen right after Easter.

I've been working slowly, but dilligently on what I forsaw as the the most difficult of portion of my project, hitting walls every time I sat down to write.

Last night I uncovered the why behind the walls during a long, teary conversation with Oliver.

My project involves domestic violence awareness.

I had not acknowledged the ongoing verbal abuse I've been expreiencing these last ten years, and even into last weekend.

Before then, I acknowledged it,but last weekend? Am I not trying to show people the way out? The way of prevention?

I did not even see it in my own life. How discouraging.

Today, I wrote about the ongoing struggle I have with my relationship with abuse. It is difficult to acknowledge that I have a relationship with abuse. One that I avail myself to. I am one decision away from cutting that portion of my life off forever, and I find myself questioning if I can do that--if it is right.

Let me repeat that. I am questioning if I am capable of removing myself from abuse, and if it is the right thing to do. I pity my abuser. He is weak, sad, and sick. I am angry with myself.

I recognized my own behavior parralleling the behavior of a victim of abuse before I recognized his behavior as abusive. In fact, I needed Oliver's timely insight to help unlock my ability to even see that this man was verbally assaulting me. It is a constant attack on the spirit.

And I continue to lay the blame on myself.

This is the behavior of a victim of abuse.

But I don't want to be a victim. I see that I made myself available for too long. There is only one thing left to do.

About a month ago, I was talking with a collaborator on the project about how the public minimizes the impact the abuser has on the abused, and just how difficult it is for abused peoples to get away from there abusers, to stay away, and then to not be victimized again.

Entering into this project has led me down into the belly of my discomfort. It has asked me to light a fire there, and do what I've avoided all these years. Cut out the cancer.

Why is that so hard?

It's not in my nature to kill things. Even ugly, corrupting, destructive things. It's dirty business. I'll confront and be dramatic and basically do anything to make the situation livable without actually killing the source of the problem. I've expended an incredible amount of energy trying to keep the situation livable. Why? Fear...of what comes next, of hurting others....and guilt.

It's not sustainable, though, and today I ran out of fuel.

I don't know what comes next, all I know is that the old way has to be over now. I'm in the in-between, and that feels dark, scary, like death. I've been here before. Each time just before a new breakthrough, each bringing me a little closer to liberation, but this time is different, and I don't know how long it will last.

I know that my desire to embrace what is on the other side of this: allowing the parts of my identity that I've been afraid of to surface, and to retire the old way of thought and function is stronger now than my fear or laying old connection to rest.

Right now I'm in a space of acknowledging what's dying. It's a tunnel to walk through. I've walked it before. I am between cycles, still terrified of the repercussions of going ahead with what lies ahead of me.

This needs to end today, though. Any doubt I may have about my ability to see this through comes from what he taught me about myself which has nothing to do with the reality of my capabilities and strength. It will never be any different.

How did it take me ten years to get here?

Self Soothing for the Ego-Maniac--meaning all of us

My mind has been on the ego a lot these days. It keeps us attatched to being human and the world that we're living in. It sometimes blocks our vision of the inner light and muffles the sound of the Still Small Voice. And, seriously, we are crazy defensive of it, because we often confuse it with our identity. "Umm...did that lady just knock my outfit? My hair style? My kid? My home? et cetera ad nauseum." So we spend our time building up and defending the ego with all of the stuff/activities that identify who we are without even realizing it. We think our egos are so amazing that we even defend them against our nearest and dearest.

So many of us use up a lot of our energy trying to change the people we love, even when we don't realize it. We think they hurt us, and they sometimes do things that we find hurtful. We think they should change the behavior that gives us pain, and it does make sense to the ego. "My world looks like this. It has been carefully constructed for my highest comfort. Now you've sauntered in without respect for my past experiences, and you've behaved in a way that feels threatening to me. How dare you? Don't you respect my experience(err...ego)?"

Now would be an excellent time to hop over here and experience the offering of this alternative perspective.

The trouble with a defensive response is that we're punishing our current partner for the actions that created the original wound in the first place--the one we've not healed yet. The more we punish, the more they feel threatened, the more walls go up, and eventually, the relationship is going to crumble.

Now, I don't want to harp on the ego here. The ego isn't bad. It is through the ego that we get to experience life. Without ego, we wouldn't remember the value of living on this earth, of the thrill of stepping into an ocean wave, or of eating an enchilada (I am so craving good Mexican food right now).

What I take from Fred Luskin's lecture is that we need to learn to self sooth in order to have a well-working ego. One that serves us rather than us serving it. When we heal from our experiences, we clear the junk out of the way, so that we can experience the bliss of...experience. I'm talking about healing here, not coping. Coping can involve things like controlling or subduing ourselves, our emotions, or trying to live as best we can within the dysfunction. Healing involves taking a good look at the situation that has brought you pain, and sitting with it until you know you don't have to carry it any more. Then we step into the joy that is experiencing life with our whole selves, and that is good.

Re-Connecting

I've been quite busy for the last couple of weeks getting the ball rolling on a big project I'm working on behind the scenes, and all I am going to say now is....Wow. There are so many courageous women out there, and if you are suffering, you are not alone.

Now that I'm getting a steady footing with that project, I thought it was high time I come back here and work on building community through Little Hearth. The truth is that I could use a community. I've got a lot of grounding to do in the midst of these new tasks I get to be a part of, and what a blessing it would be to hear your encouraging voices on the line.

The thing is, that so many of us seem to feel alone. We're surrounded by so many people, but we feel deeply and terribly alone. I'm beginning to wrap my heart around the idea that we (I) may isolate ourselves (myself) for protection. It's the work of the ego to prove to us that what it interacts with is the real stuff of life. Our bodies and what they alone can experience/observe, our thoughts, our feelings, the way we see the world. It clings to the way we feel about OUR surroundings, OUR opinion, OUR sense of the world we live in. Meaningful interaction with others requires us to at least temporarily make a crack in the wall of our ego so that we can experience the other. It requires that we consider the other. It chips away at our ego's strong grip on what we perceive to be true about our lives, because the other has another opinion and world view proving that our way cannot be the only way. Everything we think we know is subjective to our experience, and sitting with that can be uncomfortable...until it's not anymore.



I wanted to reopen the invitation to chat on a weekly basis on a conference line. Check out the previous post for more details, then pass along to anyone you think may be interested! You can contact me anytime, just click on my profile for contact information.

Gathering

Hey everyone! So, my kickoff idea here at Little Hearth is to begin a conversation. A real live conversation via conference calls at a designated time for us to get together and chat about different topics that may be on our minds.

I seem to have an intimate relationship with isolation. Most people that I get onto the topic with tell me that they, too, are no strangers to loneliness. The idea for this gathering just sort of flew into my lap one day, after which I began to see the need for connection in a more specific light. I also began to see it as a completely solvable problem. While I wondered why it seems to be a challenge to find a place to connect, I noticed that so many gathering spots come with a price tag. When they don't they seem to be inconsistent, or are tailored to a specific group of individuals. After allowing all the ideas to gel in my mind, I came to the conclusion that Conversation should be free, convenient, consistent, and inclusive.


This isn't an exclusive gathering. Anyone who feels they would benefit from the giving and receiving of support, information, and inspiration is welcome to join in. Also, if you would just like to listen in, you are welcome to do so.

Maybe someone will have a pressing need to address, or maybe we'll start with a prompt. I'd like to get some feedback on this, to see who would be interested in what type of conversation, what your needs are, and what times are convenient to everyone throughout the week(knowing your timezone would be helpful as well).

I know I can often be found with spiral eyes staring at the computer screen attempting to quench my thirst for more connection to the people I care about, and the people I'm inspired by. But words are so black and white, and more often than not we're sharing about the recent success or illness of our children. I am grateful to have a space to share and receive notes of encouragement when I'm struggling with illness in the house or elated over the arrival of a milestone, but nothing beats the sound of another human voice that is there to love and support you.

I would be so grateful if you would share this with your friends and get the word out. Everyone is welcome. A diverse group will lend itself, I hope, to a greater understanding of the diverse world we live in, and of how we get to be in it as our individual selves.

Once I get some feedback, I'll set a time for our first call and post instructions for joining the conversation. Let's chat!

~Anna