Ice Tidal Wave.

Have You ever been so lonely that your best friend was your Teddy Bear?    Mine wasn't a Bear, he was Timothy, a red Mouse.
I wasn't an only child.    I wasn't raised by a single Mum who was worried about where the money for rent came from.
In fact, most of the reasons I can think of, for someone who has been left out and ignored so much as a child, just don't fit the way my childhood looks. 

In May 2012, I went on Theta DNA Basic and Advanced practitioner's course.   It was truly a deep healing course and many old wounds were brought to the light.   It was on this course, that helped me put to rest one of the remaining HUGE issues from my childhood.

It is hard for me to speak ill of my mother, and in this way, because I understand the why's and wherefores that brought about this state.  But my inner child, identifies herself as the neglected and unwanted child of The Ice Tidal Wave.

Every summer, my children and I visit my family.   I love this time, I can be with my kids without having to stress them about time, homework etc.   I can just enjoy them!   But, at the same time, it is my time to get the sun on my skin.   I can be a bit hard and fast about needing the Beach!    I love the warmth of the sun on my skin.   I love building sand castles.   I love jumping in the water for a splash.

Now, during these weeks with family, I am often in the ocean with my kids and my nieces and nephews.   Sometimes the water is great, just gentle rolling waves.   Then the water can be fierce, and the waves are coming in fast and the undertow strong.   There have been moments where I am looking into a wall of water, and wondering can I keep a grip on the youngest and smallest of these precious children.   Sometimes, those moments overwhelm me with fear and inadequacy.   The wall of water, is merciless.   It even happened again this summer, and the water won!   I lost my grip on one of the kids and we were knocked head over heels, salt sea, sand up my nose, knees scratched up and my mind trying to regain it's balance.

This feeling of being tossed like cat toy, not knowing where you are, as you try to keep your eyes from being  hurt by sand.   That feeling, is very much how I experience my childhood.   But, you have to add, the hard, cruel freezer burn temperature, that seals this experience.

 There are just a few people, who can understand why it was the way it was for me.   One, is my dearest closest friend.   Yes, you could say my oldest, best friend, but as I am two years her senior, I think we will just leave age out of it, Yes?
I never wanted to speak bad about my mother, as she went through so much.  My father, whom I will write about extensively, as he has the most amazing mind set!   I actually found that, when I was watching the film, The Other Boleyn Girl, that I could really feel an energetic sympathy, that made me wonder, could my father have ever had a past life where he was in a position like 'king'.    He just will take what he wants, whenever he wants, he feels completely entitled to the Best of everything, and uses and discards others in the most heartless manner.    That is the essence of the man who I call Father.   But, this blog is dedicated to the half of my first lessons in this life.   My mother.   My mother was devastated by my Father's behaviour.

My mother was brought up a Catholic.   So, she wanted that for us too.   Her mother was in charge in her childhood home, which my mom felt was wrong.   So she decided her husband would be "King" in his home!   Now her mother, was still having and raising children when my mother got married.   It is one of those bizarre facts, that when my mother married, her mother had a 6 month old baby!    I just cannot imagine that.   But this also led my mother to decide that she would have a career and perhaps one child.   So, when my mom met my dad, and they dated and talked about the life they would have;-  The plan had been, that my father would open a private practice and she would help with the office and research!    What eventually came to pass, was in medical school, he watched others give talks.   He decided he wanted to be in front of large crowds and be the one teaching and lecturing.   As my mother had wanted for him, she gave him the power to change the direction of where their 'life' plan was heading.
So, early on my mother had a baby.   Actually, she might have felt it too soon.   But, this life, was very short lived.   The first child born to my parents lived just a day.   I believe this sent my mother into 'reaction'.  Perhaps she felt some guilt, some punishment, that with her deeply rooted religious belief, that God was sending a message.   So, there was a change in her.  She then had another child.   Now, her husband was still in Medical school.   This child, was not a good sleeper.   He was more than two hand fulls and my mother was often putting him in a buggy to walk around the block, just to get a chance to stop the crying!
What is so interesting, is the change in her.   She went from holding her view of being the career woman with perhaps one child, to this new bigger family plan.   My father says he always wanted a big family.   My mother never wanted that.   Now, she jumps into this roll.   {I don't think many women would be surprised to read, that marriage changed who they were.   Many times, this change is the normal development from woman to mother.   But other times it costs us more than we really wanted to pay.   Sometimes we change so much, we forget, who we are and what we really wanted for our lives.}  But, even though, she made this sacrifice, so that he could have the family he desired.    

Now, this next story, is so part of my consciousness.   I am not sure, when I first learned that my father started to abuse my mother, but I feel as if I have always known the first time, was when my mother was pregnant with me!  

One of my Father's favourite games,  {Please, pardon my use of the word game here.   I don't know what other way to describe it.   What he does is sick, it hurts everyone.   I know he views it as a 'delicious' and he even went so far as to tell me, "A Love triangle is the Best place to be!"}   is to play one lover off the other.   Now, this type of emotional abuse, is very corrosive and cruel in the harshest sense.  How, my Father discovered this as this wonderful, ego boosting technique is unfathomable.   But, his mother once told me, that he always had several girlfriends.  So,  here is my mother, pregnant with me, finding a Love letter from the other woman.   Her thoughts, her feelings, her knee jerk reaction are all a part of my consciousness.

Now, the other thing I had to learn, was on the Theta course, was that my mother started in denial.   She refused to acknowledge her hunger, in a vain attempt to keep her looks, she started this non eating regime, which she still follows to this very day.   {On the course,  I was taken back, to being the baby in the womb, and all I wanted was to get out of there!   Her mind was spinning!   Why was he doing this?   How can I compete?   How can I hold it together?   It was so painful for her.   Every time she looked around she already had two kids, they both looked like him.   My mom was too proud to turn to any one for help.  She tried to soldier on, with all this anguish in side her.}   If you ever had a boyfriend cheat on you?   You know how you begin to doubt your self, your attractiveness.   Well, add that too, being a mom, two small kids and one well on the way!

Can I just say,  there is a picture of my mother holding me, just three weeks old, she is as skinny as a supermodel!

So, that was the first time.   Basically, it got too good for him to give up that drama!   He repeats this, finds a lover, passively informs my mother.  She 'fights'  for him.   He sometimes stays away weeks.   But then comes back.  That is a really simplified version of events.  Some affairs seemed far more serious, from my perspective, than others.   Then, there was also the power corruption that happened when he was home.   My father was a great one for changing the rules at a whim.   Now what this really meant, was that, my mother, who was home with us would set a rule and by dismissing her rules, he took her power away.

 This is the key to what abuse is about.   It is about power and control.

So, by the time, he decided he needed a new female lead in his love triangles, and leaves my mother, she is left scarred and  just as fragile as light bulb glass.   It was as if, he took battery acid and poured it on her, she had wounds and scars and it took just a whisper to make her scream, cry or shout.   It was hard to know where to stand, how to sit, what I could do in order to please her.

I often thought, that my relationship, the the very physically abusive, Symbol.  {As mentioned in a former Post}    I thought, that his highly critical manner was my way of trying to make peace with my relationship with my mother.   It is still a bit emotional for me to get to this place.   I can feel I am at the brink of the Pool of Sorrow's.

The Pool of Sorrow's is every Christmas, every Birthday for the next 5 years!   At each of these events, at some point, my mother is curled in a heap, crying so hard, saying, "I want my family".   I can remember looking around,  There would be all her children.  We would be there surrounding her, and all she wanted was that man!   The man that left her, and made her feel so unattractive, {she was always beautiful!}   that man, who we pretended to have fun around so she could take a picture!   To make her happy!?   Why did she want him??

Now, this may sound really rude and my language may shock you.   But I was approaching 16 years old and when my mother started this, or I knew we were having 'talks' about who we would see on Christmas Eve and who we would see on Christmas Day.  I would just become defensive, because it was so painful for me.  She would crying over that guy!  So I just said, "all she cares about is the Dick!"

And I actually thought, that was it!   That the main reason I was unimportant was that I was not a man!

Now, all that into consideration.

As a baby in the womb, my mother denied me.    As a baby in her arms, she felt {to me, remember, this is my impression} as if, everything was more important.   The house had to be absolutely perfect,   There was always something in the order above me.

My mom, would always be 'doing' something in order to make the house clean or perfect.   I never found my mother sitting, and there was never a moment when she would be still for a cuddle.    She was hard, she was cold, she was preoccupied.   The one person, who gave me unconditional love, was my Granny.   I think, I really would have withered and never got my head above any of this without her love.   She wasn't always around.   She and my grandfather lived far enough away that for them to visit, was a big deal!

But I was also blessed with a close connection to spirit as a little girl.   So, I was fortunate in that manner.  Because the infant, she longs for being held.

I can remember, making mistakes, and the fall out of doing wrong was the Ice Tidal Wave.  This disappointment and stinging coldness of my mother, made me terrified of 'doing wrong'.


I really only wanted her to notice me.    I really wish, she had found joy in just being my mother.





Okay, so it was hard for me to be and infant and a Toddler to my Mother.   I always felt the least important to her.   A third class citizen.

Even recently, my daughter, commented on how much she hates the way my family treat me.

 It isn't right.  

Now, what is the gift in this lesson?   Where is the beauty?

I say to you, ask my children.  

The Beauty is, I love being a Mother.   I want nothing more, than to just sit and 'be' with my children.
 My house, is not neat and tidy, because I will just sit and cuddle my children.  

I tell my children, I love them, every day!  
Sometimes two or three times a day!

Sometimes they remind me that I have already told them.

But I sure do hope, that not a moment passes,
not a doubt is present in their minds.  
They were wanted!   They are loved!

I do so hope, that this is part of the Grand Design.   That I should have such a powerful lesson in the importance of taking the time, to just 'be' with the people who matter and I love the most.  
That they will be blessed all this life with a feeling of belonging and Self Confidence!

Anita Moorjani's Book & the Power of her Experience

Anita's book, Dying to be Me, was recommended to me by Rosemary Edwards.

Rosemary, is my friend, my confidant, and a person I turn to when I have any pain, physical, mental or emotional.   I discovered Rosemary's website when using a Google search for powerful Healers.   I have never been disappointed by the quality of this Holistic, Energetic Healing system.   I find NSR to be a complete healing form, as it offers to the client a chance to understand the issue, why it occured, when and what the lesson is.   

http://www.nsr-energyhealing.com/distant-healing

I have told anyone who is looking for serious help, and has given up on our Western Medical model to get in touch with Rosemary.  Because I believe her system is that good. 

I also go on about Braco, but I promise that we will discuss Healers and Healing systems later.   Promise!


So, I bought the Audio version of this book, downloaded it onto my Kindle, {that I share with my son, I often wonder, how much of it is mine, do you think it could be 35% mine?  maybe?}   and I listened to this during my driving time.    I found Anita's journey just so amazing.   There were times when I was driving with tears streaming from my eyes.    I found it to be that moving.

We hear of people who have had a Near Death Experience.   Sometimes we are fortunate enough to even know someone who has been that close to the 'light' or the Divine.   It has trans-formative power, in a very real and unpredictable way.   What is a truly huge blessing, is the fact that Anita has been able to recall this time in the 'afterlife' with incredible detail.   It is often that this experience is so out with our normal realm of experience it is hard to talk about, describe and then even retain the memory of.   So, I am grateful that she has been allowed to keep this so fresh in her mind.   It may also be part of 'The Big Purpose' of it all.

Today I want to share with you, just a paragraph of her writing, one that really spoke to my personal beliefs.

Now, when I was in my late teens and 20's, also throughout my marriage I was quite devote, in a religious way.    Sometimes I just liked being in the choir, or playing hand bells for the Sunday service.  But there was a period of 3 years, where I read the the Bible everyday, and engaged in praying to Jesus.    I felt I had to 'turn my back' on much religious rhetoric in order to leave my spouse.   There are far too many scriptural passages that do not support divorce.   But a young woman I was close to, said to me, "Jesus, did not give his life on the cross, so you could suffer like this."

You may agree, you may not.   You may have stopped reading when you thought I was a 'Bible Basher'!   But, I needed those words, as I loved being on Team Jesus.  It is deep within my being, the striving for being 'Good'.   Because, I have this powerful drive to not hurt others, to heal, to bring love & light wherever I go.   So, leaving him?    And wanting a divorce?    That didn't seem to fit in my deeply personal, spiritual philosophy.   It was one truly difficult decision for me.   But, I believe there is a purpose to what I have been through.   Perhaps that is key to why I love this passage and have chosen to share it with you today.

Anita writes about being how she was encouraged to share her story.   She didn't  know how to start and what the purpose of it would be.   Just like in my life, when Rosemary told me, "You have a message for the world".   I thought, "Me!?  You must be mad!   I am no writer."   However, I started to write out all that I knew.   Which, is the abuse that I witnessed my Father carry out on my Mother, then on my Step Mother.  Then what happened as I became a young woman and dated,   and then what happened when I married.    Before I knew it I had a small manuscript.   But I still kept wondering,"Who is going to want to read this?  What purpose does it serve?"     Anita walked through that same door.   Then she was sharing her experience, and this was also powerful for her.

So, now I share, this is what she writes;-

I suddenly realized that, both my getting Cancer and my healing were actually for the planet.
If we're all one,
what happens to me, happens to all.  
And, what happens for me, also happens for the whole Universe.  

I understood that the reason I even got sick and then chose to come back was to serve as an instrument for healing to take place in others.    

Now, as a person who has studied Reiki, that fact that she emphatically says, she is an instrument for healing has a huge resonance for me.    My Reiki Master was adamant that we never view ourselves as the creator of the healing.   We as therapists are nothing more than the vehicle for which the energy comes to others.  

Also, as the well known Angel writer, Doreen Virtue expands upon this same theory in her 4 CD set, Goddesses & Angels, she describes the healing takes place in the 'love' between the therapist and client.   Now, don't get confused with that word love.   The Greeks had 7 different words for love, as you have mother's love, friendship/companionship love, and then the one that our Western society is so hung up on, erotic love.   What I believe Doreen is saying, is that 'love', that divine compassion, that huge overwhelming warmth that only comes from the source of our true being.  That Love is the One that heals and brings Peace.  That is the Love we should all be hung up on!

Yesterday I wrote about my childhood experience with my Father, and how it became this huge issue and weight in my life.   That in those few moments, my conscious mind created these thought patterns that became personality quirks, and led me to manifest a series of dreadful relationships with men.   Part of what I needed to face, was that I blamed my Dad!   Sure, he continued to be an Odious Villain and treated two of the most important women in my life like doormats.   He also served to bring some good into the lives of others on this planet.  But, to a great extent, my thoughts and feelings, have manifested what has befallen me.

Now I know, there are many who say our fate is set out.   I believe that there are ways to divine the highlights of what is to come in each life.   But, we can influence so much by our deeply held beliefs and childhood experiences.   I also know that blaming my Dad was getting me nowhere.   I was still stuck being a magnet for any controlling abusive man within a ten mile radius!   I needed to do that work, so that I could move toward being the light, the divine spark that I am really here to be.

It is difficult to accept at times, when something really dreadful happens, that it can actually spark a chain of events to bring the best and highest good into our lives.

People have asked, time and again, why would a God profess to being a God of Love and allow so much misery and suffering.   But, Anita said,"You can see the tapestry of your life, your past lives and how they are all part of this Grand Design."

It doesn't make it easy, especially when you are facing loss.  

But I choose to believe what Alison Dubois says, "We are their Heaven, why are loved ones never leave us."

We are surrounded by those who have past before, we have our divine guides who listen to us, see us and will helps us when we call.

Some people see spirit, some people have the gift to hear spirit, some people can feel the guidance of spirit.   We each have our own talents and intuitive guides.    Sometimes all you need to do, is sit quietly for a moment and ask from deep in your heart.   I often use my dream time,  if there is something worrying me, or I do not feel qualified to answer, I will leave it to be answered in my dreams.  

Okay, now I am going to add the last part of the paragraph from Anita Moorjani's book;-

Not just physical healing,
But more important, emotional healing.
Since our feelings are what actually drives our physical reality.

This is a Huge statement for me!  I have been a 'feelings' person all my life.   And a dreamer.
Which was more or less fine, when I was in High school & college, working in the Arts, Dance, Theater and Music.   But I think it is also what makes me so susceptible to abuser's.   Because I can feel their energetic digs.   {This is also a fairly big concept and is best expressed by James Redfield in his book, The Celestine Prophecy}   But, being given this knowledge, that honoring what I feel, as important as my emotions and dreams!   Yeah!   I am not a complete wacko!   {I do so hope you are laughing!}   

I have thrown out at you Today, a lot of big concepts;-

Us all being one, 

Even our most painful life experiences are for all of humanities growth.

Trust your instincts, dreams and feelings. For they are more valuable then we have been previously allowed to acknowledge!

May you be Blessed in your time spent reading this.

I wish you Peace, Divine Love and vibrant Light in each cell of your being.

TRAPPED!

Just within the last three months, I had this dream.  

Within this dream,  I am expansive!   In this wonderful dream I am pure spirit life force, just energy.   

I am floating through my childhood home.   The house is darker and there is a grey that seems to thicken the air.   As I travel more than a meter above the ground, I see my Father is chasing after me and trying to grab me and force me to be held down.

This is an astonishing and fascinating dream.   To me, my memory of my childhood father, is a man who was seldom within the house.   When he is, it is time for awe and celebration.   So, to imagine him, chasing me!   Where I felt I was always seeking more time with my father.   I was looking to him for the warmth that did not exist in any corner of my childhood home.   I was always my Father's biggest fan, when he came home I would rush to him!   Like a puppy!

My father was always warm, he seemed to be the centre of our Universe.   There was an unwritten rule in our house, do whatever it takes to please the Daddy.   We need to keep him happy to keep him around.   {It doesn't surprise me now, as I read back over what I have written here, that my Brother qualified my Father's attitude and demeanor in life, as his opinion and desire always having to be the right one!}   It really was, all our mind set that my Father was the center of our world.
Now there is this powerfully, life changing moment in my youth, just one moment, that took me Forty years to sum up the courage to face.   It is my firm belief, that because I hadn't faced this event and dealt with it, that I created more problems in my life.

I am going to share with you now, what I held secret from my mother and the world, with copious amounts of food.   I once told a friend, we were both excessively drunk, and we cried over each others deep wounds.    Though, in the light of the next morning, when she asked me,"What were we crying over?"   I feigned ignorance.   {I am sorry for being so afraid Laura.  I guess I still feel like this 5 year old girl and my Dad is the sole source of warmth and love in my life.   That to turn on him, whatever he did wrong, would be to cut myself off from my only connection to love.}   I am now going to make this right.   I am ready to release this shameful memory, and forgive.    I am ready to forgive my Father and I am ready to forgive myself!  I am going to honour and respect myself for being scared and confused and forgive that 5 year old me, for all the parts and ways that I believe myself to be responsible for this.   {You might think this is just the strangest most incredible statement!   But any survivor of abuse will tell you, they felt responsible, and often an Abuser feeds those thoughts of accountability!}

So, now we jump back into that Super Sonic Time Travel Machine and take you back to 1970, this is the day that my Father fondled me.

For Decades, Part of me has been held to this place by fear, guilt, shame, desire,  and a misguided sense of loyalty.

This day, this moment was indelibly written on my memory.   It wasn't that long ago I decided to face this memory.   It has been one of my biggest weights, holding me to the Earth with long rusty chains.   This was also my blind spot.

 I was fortunate enough to work with a qualified NLP therapist on this memory.   That is how I know, that I know, the smell of the air and the time of day.     That afternoon, the temperature as well as, the smell are all pristine and stored in a corner of my subconscious.

What was hardest for me to deal with, was the possibility that I had created just that moment.

For most women we know the expression, 'asking for it'.  A man can say that about a woman who was raped if she was wearing something, even the slightest bit shorter than a Nun's summer frock.   Also, for me, there was the very clear and very real condemnation of the Church.  I was still very small, when the Sermon was all about Eve.   ""Women are the root of all Evil", was the resounding message.

So, here I was, this girl of 5, so cold, so desperately longing for affection and some adult attention. My Father is in his study, reading, writing, with the radio playing.  I bounce in and stand by his side, waiting, hoping for any crumb of attention.   This was the time, I was brought over the threshold from childhood innocence into the realm of adult sexuality.   It was the time that I first felt completely overrun, in my naive defense, I didn't think my father would do something that would frighten me so.

As I stood there, my Father, wordlessly took his hand and stroked my back.   He then traced his finger along the top of my shorts, and then his hand is in my shorts.  From there,  he slipped his hand under the elastic of my underwear and started to fondle my buttocks.  From one to the other he moves his hand and then under the curve so that his fingers  brush my private!   This, this is where I tense all over.   I know that this feels wrong!

So, that's it!   It's nothing!   I know girls who had to deal with the Full Monty!   What is my problem?  Right?

But the doubts that went through my mind in those seconds!   The Fear!   How come, I am standing there, on this wonderful, beautiful autumnal afternoon, knowing that this is a wrong deed, and My own Father is calling it an expression of his love!?   An accident??

{I will just digress here, I have had four children, and after they were out of nappies, I never had any need to have my hands in their underwear!}   Maybe I am just prude!

Now, it took me years to face this trans formative moment.   I believe that because my Father felt entitled or an incredible sense of his own worth, so that he could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted without need to apologize.  That I took this to mean, All Men should be allowed to take what they want.   So there is a life time of pain sparked from my faulty explanation of this moment.    Now, the other side of this coin, the other thoughts which were racing through my mind were;- if he wants to do this again?   I should just allow it?   Because the dynamic in my childhood home was that my Mother, demanded that we behave.   Now all parents want their children to behave, not to kill their siblings and throw their coats and shoes all over the place.  But,  we were impressed upon to do, whatever it took to keep my Father around and happy.

Are you beginning to see how the Walls are building up around me?   Yes, some are illogical mental leaps made by my young mind.   But there is also this other side, supported and enforced by my Mother.

 My Mother was hard and rigid about everything,  the house was to be straight as a pin.   We were to perform to our highest standard, and toe the line, especially when my Father was home.  Now, my father was not around often, so this time had to be capitalized on.    Any "Family" outings had to be accomplished and photographed during those few days he was 'home'.    {I know I have mentioned this before, because it was said to me often when I was growing up.}   There was this pressure, as if my Mother had sat down and told us, "When your Father is here, you need to do whatever it takes to make him stay!"    Now of course my Mother never said this, nor did she write it down and have us swear an oath.    But, my understanding is, that my Mother behaved in this manner when my Father was around.  Now just by her attitude adjustment and rigid control over her ways' being completely disregarded when he walked in the door.   {This is a topic we will come back too.   Although my Mother explained to me she wanted her husband to feel 'King' in his own home, I do not believe she could see how this was going to rob her of any power in her home.  What would happen is, my Father could re write any rule in the house at any given moment.  Like, I think it's time we stop going to Church.  Done!}

As I now understand and see clearly, I did this same thing!   I tip toed on egg shells around my children's father so that there would be peace in their home.   {But this leads to loosing your power and your children not know who you truly are!}  So, although, my Mother was just trying to keep our Universe from crashing down, this unspoken behaviour of hers;-   Doing E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G she could to keep my Father 'happy' and wanting to be around, became my behaviour too.   Because once he was out the door, the person I had to please, WAS my Mother.

So, I felt I had to do this!   I also have to own the fact that I went into that room that afternoon, desperate for ANY attention!   That was huge chains of guilt I was carrying.

So, a couple of points I want to make here.

I don't think it takes a great length of time to make another feel inferior or to 'dis' empower them.  Right?   It is easy to tare a person down.   Watch young children, they build with blocks and knock it down.  It is a simple part of human nature, one that we are evolving above, I am sure!

The second thing, is my lesson through witnessing my Mother losing her power, and my own loss of power.

This is about speaking your truth.

I can't honestly imagine having the Brass Kahona's to be bold enough to have smacked my Father in the face that afternoon.  It was wrong for him to be fondling my bottom and private.   You can suggest ways you think I should have dealt with it.   I am quite happy to hear your opinions.  

As I sit here, in my lounge, being all after the marriage, my own kids growing up and thinking, the only real power I had, would have been to run to my Mother and tell her.  My thinking is, I assumed she would have supported him.  

One more digression.   If my Father wanted something that wasn't in the house;-  there was a time when he loved Gatorade.   He wanted some, it wasn't in the house.   The next time he was home, there were three bottles waiting in the refrigerator!   That was how supportive and dedicated my Mother was to him.  

So, I think part of my 'TRAPPED -idness' feelings have to do with how much my Mother was devoted to and supported him.   I didn't think she would put me before him.

In closing,  I am not wanting to blame him nor her for where I am today.   I needed to learn to speak up for myself.   I needed to learn that a woman is as important as a man.  Any relationship will fail, if one person is more powerful than the other.   We need to create equal relationships!

We are all hosting a spark of Divine Love within ourselves.   We will all return to the source of Divine Love.

It is our job to shine that spark through our lives.   In the darkness and in the joy!

May you always be loved, may you always be heard when you speak your truth.

The View from the Street

When I was 5 years old we lived in Cherry Hill, New Jersey.   It was this lovely suburban village, the houses are not near images of each other.  There is still a diversity of building planning going on.  This is probably a good two decades before the 'Pringles' of suburbia appear.

The lawns are all neatly mowed to only a 3 inch height, as if the Neighborhood watch had set a limit.

My father decided we should plant a dogwood tree in the front of the house.  So these lovely simply flowers frame our beige four bed roomed family home.  One of the bedrooms was converted to be my Father's office.  Perhaps the office was put there to encourage him to be at home more often.   My mother often says, if there is a picture of my Dad 'doing' something with us, it was because it only happened that once.  {So rarely was he home or, even involved, that it had to be recorded.}

My Father had arranged a two week long trip to Europe in order to bring back a Volvo.   This was my first International flight.   We had to wait a long time to get on the plane.   I remember, everything in London.   The Hitchcock film, Frenzy was released and being advertised by Posters' using a sharp contrast grey, black and white with a blood tingling red tie.   I was curious and tantalized by this concept of a person strangling women.

I remember being young enough to get rides on my father's shoulders.   Our family discovered Roll cake, you know, made with vanilla sponge and a jam with cream rolled up!   I think we had slices of this as often as we could have tea.   We saw a three wheeled car and I bought a picture of the Queen.   It was a postcard, but the Queen back in 1970, was beautiful!   To me, she was exactly what a Regal, Beautiful and Elegant Queen should be!   I played with that postcard picture when I returned home, I looked at it so often that the image is so deeply burned in my mind.   Yes, England really captured my imagination.   We spent what seems to be just one day exploring Scotland.   We looked for 'Nessie' and had a picnic.

Then we sped over to Germany, where we collected the car.  Then we piled in and We drove around in it.  I mean, seriously?   Just because you bought the car, doesn't mean you know how to handle it on foreign lands.   {It is quite funny to realize, we slept in the car as my Dad drove us around, I believe I was allowed to sleep either on the space between the rear window and head rests of the back seats.   There were no rules and guidelines on seat belts and car seats.   I can remember playing in what I call 'the Well', in the back seat, the place for the feet of the passengers.   In the car, there was a quite elevated gear shift and this made a raised barrier, nearly knee height, from one passenger foot well to the other.   That was my place to ride in the car.   Being the youngest, I was not entitled to full seating!}  As we drove through Germany, my father was pulled over by the Police.   This was very late, or the wee hours of the morning, but it was pitch dark outside the windows of the car.   The accent of the Police officer was very intimidating.   One of the features of the Volvo, was this long sliding bright orange speed gauge guide.   I think, the driver moved it to his target speed, let's say 60 mph, and this orange pointer assisted the driver's focus on staying near that speed.   {Yep, this is the dark ages of car driving.}  So, the Police officer and my father were not communicating well.  But, there is this, well remembered moment, {My Father was ribbed about this for years!} where the Police officer reaches in and moves this pointer up and up the slide and my father shakes his head and moves it down.   This carried on for quite some time!   We always joke about my father trying to convince the German Police officer he wasn't speeding.   We did have to go to the Police station that night!

Of the castles and wondrous sights of my first trip to Europe, so many stored so brightly in my mind, it is really hard to decide which ones to share.   One precious memory, of seeing a golden foot, as a bizaree and quirky, gilded cornice work, in the Château de Versailles.   Then there was the not lovely, nor grand salt mines and coveralls we had to wear and the odd little train we took to view them.    Then there was the Tomb of the Monks.   These Monastic hoarders, saved the bones of their Brothers and decorated the walls with femur's and ulna's.   Yeah, creepy, but totally unforgettable!   So, these vivid memories and the focus of this lengthy time of being together, to bring back, my Father's car.

The car became a focal point.  It was called the Blue Baby and we all cherished his car, as he did.
 Also, there are the fond jokes we made like 'Blue Baby goes vrum, vrum' as a way to express it's uniqueness.   I have a clear image of a photograph that was taken of us giving it a good scrub.   I can see my mother, wearing a mini skirt, the fashion at the time, and she has smiled just like a model for the camera.    After a few years we apply bright psychedelic flowers to the areas that have become rusty.

But, the Blue Baby is a symbol of success and status.   Was the car bought solely for the neighbors to see it parked in front of the house with the dogwood trees?


When you look at my family from this angle, you probably imagine life is really good.   My father was handsome and successful.   My mother, was a blonde bombshell.   We had all the modern appliances in the house.   I think if you hadn't a clue, you would really think, it was just like a really happy existence.

Now, I am going to take you forward, by super sonic Time Travel.

Now, we are in Scotland.   This is where I moved to when I married.   We lived not far from the College my spouse worked in, until we knew, we would raise four children.   Then a two bed roomed flat would not suit our needs.   So we started to look at property's.   The house that caught our eye had one great feature.   It was the kitchen that sold this house to us.   The kitchen was converted when the couple added an extension and a spare room in the loft space.   The rest of the house, was that traditional cute cottage one envisions when thinking of quintessential British homes. From the entrance you have two rooms, one on either side of the hall from the front door.  The one bathroom, off  the hall and then you walk around the corner, and from there the space opens up to this great kitchen with a central island cooker.   The tiling was beautiful deep blue and there are patio doors that lead to an enclosed garden.   For a family with four very young children, this was a superb dream home.

I think, from the outside, I tried to make everything look as good as it looked in my childhood.   I really wanted to make my children's life a wonderful learning journey.   I know this is a common human desire, to give our children one step better than we had growing up. I wanted to give my children the best of everything and part of that was the desire to give them a secure family environment.  {This becomes a trap for me, as the desire to stay married and give my kids the best against the desire to live my life without fear of constant abuse}   I was really into being a mother.

I would play classical music as well as modern music to sing and dance around holding my baby.  I also sang to them at bedtime, one of my passionate interests in High School was singing, so I had a few pieces stored in my mind.  My eldest was sung to the most, she had the advantage for a few months over the other children.   I also, always engaged the children in cooking activities, such as making cake!   There most be more than a dozen photo's of the kids covered in cake batter.   {I read that back and it sounds to me as if we made the cake batter and I tipped it over them, took a photograph, just for the laughs!}   I also would make, homemade play dough.

But, when the children were no longer infants and toddlers, I used to spend Saturday nights, preparing a short Sunday school craft lesson for my kids.   I also ran a Toddler group with a great young woman.  We always made sure, there were Tea's, Coffee's and craft available.   So, you can see, I really wanted to give my kids a great upbringing.  It is one of the sadder parts of my life, that my parents were so caught up in the drama of their lives, take time to play with me.

For me, over compensation was the answer!   As my dear friend Julie always says, "I never met anyone who was ready to be a parent.  You were always Mothering somebody in school".  I don't remember it that way, but, she may have a better perspective.

There has been more that one time, since I left my spouse, that I have stood washing dishes and  started to feel the anger.   Angry that, my children, could have had better!  If he had just honoured me, as Mother.  As the Centre of the Universe to lives of our four children, being their Mother is actually a very significant place!   The philosophy of the Women's Aid Shelter, is that the Happiness of the Mother is reflected in the well being of the child!   Now, I know that is true.   When I am in a good place, my kids feel it.   They respond to that warmth and joy within me, and it has to be part of what develops as confidence.

Now, I know No one is happy twenty four seven!  There are family members who have severely criticized me, for leaving him.   Thinking that I was holding him totally responsible for my happiness.   Part of the problem then, was that I didn't know how to express what was going on in my marriage.   As the pure violent abuse was far and few between!   I am not about blaming it all on him.   I was repeating the pattern, although at that time, unwittingly.

So I am not saying, "All Men have to do all they can to ensure their partner's complete euphoria!"  No.   We all have to step up and be responsible for our part, what we know we need to be happy, and that will be different from individual  to individual.   My point here is;-   to do with my personal experience.   That being, the father of my children, started regularly, consistently putting me down and repeating abusive controlling behaviour.  I now understand and believe, he did this to make himself feel better.   As now, 6 years separated and legally divorced.   I understand the words that my counselor used to say,"A bully suffers from low self esteem."  Even my good friend tried to help me understand that, the constant criticism I lived with, was his way of trying to make himself feel better!

At that time, that woman, who was juggling the needs of her children.   Her desire to give them all the best of her varied experience and education, she was made to feel completely useless and unworthy.

It wouldn't take much, any day of the week you could walk in the door of that house and find, a messy place somewhere.   What I started to do, would be frantically scurry around from about 5 pm.   It was my pattern, to get the kids in the front lounge with a TV show and start cleaning up.   In the hopes that there would be no place for him to point at and go, "There!  You failed at picking this up, or this is out of place!"

I hope your laughing, because it is ludicrous!   Four young children?   And any item within any room out of place as a starting point for tearing the Mother down?

Great!  So there I was, repeating my Mother's pattern of making things appear good from the outside.  However, within,

within the walls

within the hearts and minds of the family members, there was fear.




I want to finish on a more positive note.   I really want to leave you thinking there is a good and positive reason for all this, because that is what I believe!

I did my absolute best at that time!  I did my best to love and give my children and their father all I had.

That is all we can ever do!