Help me God.
Help me complete this piece.
Reveal my pathology and drive it from this place.
Show me the truth.
As a child, I often thought I might one day write a book about my life. This idea continued in its evolution as I grew older.
It made sense to write as though I lived in a soap opera. At the time it made perfect sense. Because it was true. That was how a lot of my existence played out. Such drama, every day. Like a soap opera. Full of drama. I had a creative imagination. Out of my fantasies great scenarios grew. Roles were assigned to actors who didn't have a clue. There was no way anyone could know they'd become participants. I was too well hidden.
A few nights ago, before falling asleep, I was swept with a tidal wave of sadness for having made the choice to leave Vermont. As I step into a commitment with the North of Eden Group, my inner work is deepening and I long for the familiarity of daily life near my home. This wave brought grief for uprooting me and my family to pursue this ideal of community living. Every day now, I feel such pain –as my pathologies of denial and pride and their false structures crumble around me. I feel myself losing grip of all that has been so important to me and it hurts, sometimes it hurts so much.
I want to cast myself in the starkest most brutally honest light I can.
January, 2005
What exactly is mentoring?
I was asked to open a yearly expose of the work but I was not to be the one running it.
Christa Lancaster was to be my mentee.
She was to do this. She was to be the spokesperson of the dream work which I was doing with clients one-to-one.
I was to mentor her.
Like I was mentored.
Exactly like that.
Part#1
How was I being mentored?
How was he teaching me? How was I to teach Christa.
The idea of being the all knowing master was out. THAT is why I was not to be the leader. NO figure head.
January, 2008 Spontaneous Combustions
HERE AND NOW
Now and then you get it. You feel me deeply. Nothing matters more. This day! This moment. This way we connect right now. Here and now. You are here, but not. Come back. The jumping away precludes, "This is real!" This is real. This is as real as you are. Come to me as you are. Let's finish what we've started. You may/must bring your fears and doubts, I love them too. Stay.
Behold the crossroads. I am the path, the direction and the Way.
Breathe Fire
Break Bread
Lift up
Cross Over
Hallelujah
Rejoice here!
Rejoice now!
I have been in and out of reaction, forgetting to do homework and all reactive about that, too. I feel like I'm holding my breath awaiting my brothers decision, (really I'm holding the space, waiting breathing). Well, I am waiting to hear what he is going to do so I can get a time frame for moving. I realized I had gone immediately into reaction as I always have. I didn't think about it. I just did it. This is me back in survival mode.
Several weeks ago I had this dream:
Tim Robbins (movie star) was very tall and somewhat distant but powerful. He was involved with another man in a co-operative or something or other... This other man was smaller and seemed to be in charge although Tim was somehow in a supportive role with him so so it seemed. The smaller man was barechested with some kind of farmer jeans on. He had thin arms and a hairy chest.
It’s been eight months since my Bache in October 2004. I remember the very first Bache at Marc’s house and feeling very annoyed that it started at least an hour late. I also remember wanting to disappear. I didn’t know anyone, I felt socially inept. I just wanted to hide. Hence my annoyance; start on time, so I don’t have to feel all these feelings. In future Bache’s in Montpelier and Stowe, I had those same feelings. I still didn’t know anyone, the dream community had grown, and all these people knew each other.
Katy Rose couldn't wait to get downstairs to tell her Mummy about her dream. Usually she had a hard time waking up, but not this morning, and it was even a Saturday. She put on her furry slippers that looked like bunny rabbits, and her favorite bathrobe that had the pictures of fluffy puppies, and scooping up her kitten off the bed, ran downstairs to find Mummy. "No running please" said Mummy.
Katy Rose, still holding Copy Cat, tried her best to slow down but it was hard because she had so much to tell.