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  • What information do you trust?

    What does trustworthy information even look like, anymore?

    Back in the dark ages, we used to read the news in the paper and we trusted that because it was printed in the New York Times or the Washington Post, it was trustworthy. Perhaps we thought the same about news that was presented on network TV.

    But these are the days of information overload. 600 cable and satellite chanels and 200,000 newsblogs clamoring for our attention, as each spins the latest news with their own twist. What can be trusted?

    It seems the onus increasingly falls on each individual to filter everything, according to our own standards for trustworthiness. But can we even do that, objectively.

    Let’s just start with the fact that news is no longer an “information” or “public service” business, but a profit driven activity. Sure, the Town Crier of olden times was compensated, but he didn’t have a Board of Directors, nor shareholders to keep happy. With news increasingly becoming “info-tainment,” how do we even start with decent “raw material” to then decide whether to trust, or not? I was reminded of this just yesterday– there were riots in Copenhagen, in my native Denmark, because the decades-old “Youth House” (a “safe house” for troubled youths) was being closed, and the youths (who have essentially been “squatting” there for 25 years– although vaguely condoned by the City of Copenhagen). The events were reported on US TV with soundbites and film of flames, rioting people, blood and police sirens. I thought “WTF????” to myself and headed for the computer… looking up the Danish national TV system, and watching their coverage. Which was largely interviews, and a story of the place, and the political ramifications… and maybe 10 seconds of flames and blood.

    It made me really think about the whole news-as-entertainment angle… and how much it surely must bias the reporting we’re exposed to.

    So, the more information we’re bombarded with, the more we have to become “discerning” in what to trust. But in having to choose what to watch and trust, there is a rub. Will we really get “information,” or “the news?” Let’s face it, we have a natural tendency to seek out beliefs that support our own perception of the world. And with as many opinions as we can now get from all the world’s newsfeeds, we can almost invariably find a “version” of information that supports our paradigm.

    From where I’m sitting, that looks like an open invitation to have our delusions fed, rather than an opportunity to find trustworthy reporting.

     

  • And now, for something completely different…

    I don’t often resort to posting “outside content” here, but came across this in a web group I belong to– it’s one of the more insightful pieces if writing I have seen in a while, so I’m going to share it here.

    It is somewhat long, but well worth a read.

    The Three Faces of Victim

    © By Lynne Forrest
    www.lynneforrest.com

    Most of us unconsciously react to life from a position of victim-hood. Anytime we refuse to take responsibility for ourselves, we are opting to play victim. This leaves us feeling at the mercy of, done in by and un-faired against; no matter what our situation might be.

    Victim-hood consists of three positions outlined by
    Stephen Karpman, a teacher of Transactional Analysis, on what he called the “Drama Triangle“. Having learned of it some thirty years ago, it has been one of the most important tools in my personal, as well as professional life. As my understanding of the Drama Triangle has expanded, so has my appreciation for this simple, but powerfully accurate instrument. I call it the “shame machine” because through it we unconsciously re-enact our vicious cycles, thereby creating shame. Every dysfunctional interaction takes place on the Drama Triangle! Until we make these dynamics conscious, we cannot transform them. Unless we transform them, we cannot move forward on our journey towards re-claiming our spiritual heritage.

    Karpman named the three roles on the Drama Triangle Persecutor, Rescuer and Victim and placed them on an upside down triangle representing the three faces of victim. Even though only one is called Victim, all three originate out of and end up back there. Therefore they are all stopping places on the road to victim-hood. We each have a most familiar, or what I call, starting gate position.

    We first learn our primary position from within our family. Although we each have a role we most identify with, we will also rotate through the other positions, going completely around the triangle, sometimes in a matter of minutes, or even seconds, many times every day.

    It’s difficult to see ourselves (or others) as victims when we are in a care-taking or blaming role. Nonetheless these two, Rescuer and Persecutor, are the two opposite extremes of Victim. This is simply because all roles eventually lead back to victim. It’s inevitable.

    You might notice that both the Persecutor and Rescuer are on the upper end of the triangle. Whenever we assume either of those stances, we come across as one-up. From either position we are relating as though we are better, stronger, smarter, or more-together than the victim. Sooner or later the victim, who is in a one-down position, develops a metaphorical “crick in the neck” from looking up. Feeling”looked down upon”, resentment builds and some form of retaliation inevitably follows. At that point the victim moves into a persecutor role. Reminiscent of a not-so-musical game of musical chairs, all players sooner or later rotate positions.

    Here’s an example. Dad comes home from work to find mom coming down hard on Junior with, “Clean up your room or else” threats. He immediately comes to the rescue,”Mom” he might say,”give the boy a break”. Any one of several possibilities might occur next. Perhaps Mom, feeling victimized by dad, turns on him, automatically moving him into a victim position. They might do a few quick trips around the triangle with Junior on the sidelines. Or maybe Junior joins dad in a persecutory “Let’s gang up on mom” approach, and they could play it from that angle. Or Junior could turn-coat on dad, rescuing mom, with; “Mind your own business, dad . . . I don’t need your help!” So it goes, with endless variations perhaps, but nonetheless, round and round the triangle. For many families, it’s the only way they know how to communicate.

    Everyone has a starting-gate position on the Drama Triangle. This is not only the place we most often get hooked, but also the role through which we actually define ourselves; a strong part of our identity. Each starting-gate position has its own particular way of seeing and reacting to the world. Each primary position originates out of a particular life theme and moves around the triangle in its own distinct way.

    For instance, although we all eventually end up in the victim position on the triangle, the starting-gate position of Rescuer
    (*from here forward Starting-gate positions will be capitalized to differentiate them from the movement through a particular role) moves through victim and persecutor in a very different way than do either a primary Persecutor or Victim.

    The Rescuer moves into victim wearing the cloak of martyrdom(“After all I’ve done for you …”), whereas a Persecutor claims victim as a way to justify vengeance(If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had to ….”). Whereas a Rescuer may persecute by withdrawing their care-taking, a Persecutor’s rescuing is liable to be almost as painful as when they are in attack-mode. And a starting-gate Victim is perpetually pitiful and incapable. They even rescue from a one-down position! (“You’re the only one who can help me, because you’re so talented, or smart, or whatever!”)

    Our primary positions are generally set-up in childhood. For instance, if a parent is overly protective, doing everything for a child, then that child may grow up to feel incapable of taking care of themselves. This sets them up for a life-time role of Victim. Or, the opposite; they might come to feel angry and vindictive if others don’t take care of them, thereby adopting a primary Persecutor stance.

    There are many variations, and each case needs to be individually considered.

    We not only act out these triangular distortions in our everyday relations with others, but also internally. We move around the triangle as rapidly inside our minds as we do out in the world. We trap ourselves with dishonest and dysfunctional internal dialogue. For example, we may come down hard on ourselves for not completing a project. Perhaps we lambaste ourselves as being lazy, inadequate or defective, causing us to spiral into feelings of anger and self-worthlessness. Inwardly, we cow to this persecutory voice, fearing it may be right. Can you see the persecutor/victim exchange happening here? As soon as we begin to blame or insult, a victim is created. And in this case, we’re it! This could go on for minutes, hours or days, but sooner or later, there will be a voice in us that comes to the rescue. Because we’re feeling lousy and need relief, we start to make excuses,”Well, I would have finished that project if it hadn’t been for …”, we might say. Now we have moved into rescuer.

    Sometimes we rescue ourselves (and others) by denying what we know,”If I look the other way and pretend not to notice, it will go away” sort of tactic. These inner dramas perpetuate a vicious cycle of shame spirals and self loathing.

    Similar to the way a generator produces electricity, the Drama Triangle generates shame. Whether through internal interaction or external communication, moving around the triangle keeps the self-disparaging messages going. The Drama Triangle becomes our own personal shame machine. The good news is that we can do something about it. All we have to do is learn to turn off the shame machine in order to get off the triangle. It’s a simple, although not easy, remedy.

    Before we can get off the triangle we have to recognize and be willing to let go of the drama produced therein. We must first become intimately acquainted with the costs and trade-offs of each stopping place on the path of victim-hood. This allows us not only to recognize the various roles, but to realistically evaluate the consequences of being there as well.

    Identifying the language and moves of each role further helps us to apprehend when we are being invited by others to join them on the triangle. With this awareness, we can choose whether or not we want to dance to the shame generating tune of victim. With that end in mind, let’s examine each role carefully.

    Rescuer

    The Rescuer role is the shadow mother principle. It’s the typically co-dependent response we think of as”smothering”. It’s a twisted version of the feminine aspect that desires to nurture and protect. The Rescuer is the enabler, protector, mediator; the one who wants to “fix” the problem. Of course, before a Rescuer can remedy a problem there needs to be one.

    Part of the problem of rescuing is that it comes from an unconscious need to feel important or establish oneself as the savior. Taking care of others is the only way a Rescuer knows how to connect or feel worthwhile. Rescuers usually grow up in families where they were put down or shamed for having needs. They therefore learn to deny those needs, turning instead to taking care of others. This makes having someone who needs them essential.

    Very often, Rescuers operate out of the hope that if they just take care of others well enough they will get their turn, too. Unfortunately this rarely happens. Often the resulting disappointment sends them spiraling into depression. Martyrdom and depression earmark the victim phase of a Rescuer’s dance around the triangle. This is when you hear them say things such as, “This is what I get, after all I’ve done for you” or,”No matter how much I do, it’s never enough”, or “If you loved me, you would be more supportive.”

    A Rescuer’s greatest fear is that there will be nobody there for them. They compensate for that anxiety by making it a point to be
    there for others, thus encouraging dependency. Making themselves indispensable becomes a primary way of avoiding abandonment and it provides the validation they long for, as well.

    Rescuers are oblivious to the crippling dependency they foster when they enable or take care of those they are fixated on. Through these tactics, they send disabling messages. Everyone involved becomes convinced that the Victim is incapable, inadequate or defective, thus reinforcing the need for constant rescue. It becomes the job of the Rescuer to keep the other propped up,”for their own good”, of course.

    Having a Victim to care-take is essential in order for the Rescuer to maintain an illusion of being one-up and needless. This means then, that there will always be at least one person in every core Rescuers life who is sick, fragile, inept and in need of their care.

    Beatrice grew up seeing her mother as helpless and impotent. From an early age, she felt a huge responsibility to take care of her frail parent. Her own well-being depended on it! Else how was she, a small child, going to make it? As the years went by, however, she could scarcely contain the inner rage she felt towards her mother for being so needy and weak. As a starting-gate Rescuer, she would do all she could to bolster her mother, only to come away again and again, feeling defeated (victim) because nothing she tried worked. Inevitably the resentment would take over leading her to resort to treating her mother with scorn (persecutor). This became her primary interactive pattern, not only with her mother, but in all of her relationships. By the time I met her she was emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausted from having spent her life taking care of one sick and dependent person after another.

    Persecutor

    Like the other roles, the Persecutor is shame based. It’s the sort of shame-drenched-anger that results from growing up overloaded with scorn. Persecutors have long ago repressed their convictions of worthlessness, covering them instead with indignant wrath and an attitude of uncaring.

    In the same way that the Rescuer is the shadow mother principle, this role is the shadow father principle. The beneficent father’s job is to protect and provide for his family. The Persecutor role is a perversion of that energy, instead attempting to “reform” through force. This role is taken on by someone who has learned to meet their needs through authoritarian, controlling and often punishing methods. The Persecutor overcomes feelings of shame by over-powering others. Domination becomes their most prevalent style of interaction. This means they must always be right! Techniques include preaching, blaming, lecturing, interrogating and attack. They believe in getting even, very often through passive aggressive acts.

    Just like the Rescuer needs someone to fix, the Persecutor needs someone to blame! Persecutors deny their weaknesses in the same way Rescuers deny their needs. Their greatest fear is powerlessness. Denying their own infirmities, they are in constant need of someone on whom they can project their own unclaimed inadequacies. Both Rescuers and Persecutors therefore need a Victim in order to sustain their place on the triangle.

    Persecutors also tend to compensate for inner feelings of worthlessness by putting on grandiose airs. Grandiosity inevitably comes from shame. It provides compensation and a cover-up for a deep internal inferiority. Superiority is about swinging hard to the other side of “less than” in order to come across as “better than”.

    I recall a client, a doctor who exemplified Persecutor mentality. He truly thought hurting others was justified as a compensation for his own pain. He told me once in session about running into a patient of his on the golf course, who”had the nerve” to ask for on-the-spot treatment.

    “Can you believe he asked me to treat his injury on my one day off?”, he railed.

    “That does seem pretty bold” I replied,”how did you handle it?”

    “Oh, I took him to my office, alright . . . and he got a steroid shot, too” the doctor chuckled,”but I bet he’ll never ask me to do
    that again.”

    “What do you mean?”, I asked, not quite following.

    “Because that shot was one he’ll never forget!”

    To the doctor, his action was totally justifiable. His patient had infringed on him and thereby deserved whatever pain he got. This is a prime example of Persecutor thinking. It never occurred to my client that he could’ve said no; that he did not have to feel victimized by, or have to rescue this patient. In his mind he had been treated unjustly and therefore had the right, even the obligation, to get even.

    It is most difficult for someone in this stance to take responsibility for the way they hurt others. In their mind, others deserve what they get! These warring individuals tend to see themselves as having to fight the world for survival! Their battle cry might well be, “I’ve been treated unfairly and somebody’s going to pay!”. Theirs is a constant struggle to regain that which they perceive has been taken from them.

    Victim

    The Victim is a life role most often taken on by someone who was raised by a dedicated Rescuer. It is the shadow of the precious child within; that part in each of us that is innocent, vulnerable and needy. This child-self does need support and”care taken” on occasion but when an individual becomes convinced that they can never take care of themselves they can easily take on a primary Victim stance. Buying into the idea that they are intrinsically defective, Victims adopt an attitude of “I can’t make it”. This becomes their greatest fear, forcing them to be ever on the lookout for someone”more capable” to carry them.

    Victims deny both their problem solving abilities and their potential for self-generated power. Instead they tend to see themselves as too fragile to handle life. Feeling done in by, at the mercy of, mistreated, intrinsically bad and wrong, they see themselves as the”un-fixable problem”.

    This doesn’t stop them, however from feeling highly resentful for their dependency. Victims eventually get fed up with being in the one-down position and find ways to get even. A move to persecutor usually means sabotaging the efforts made to rescue them, as well as other passive-aggressive behaviors. They are very apt players of the game called,”Yes, but”. Any time a helpful suggestion is offered, a Victim response might be,”Yes, but that won’t work because …”. They may also resort to the persecutor role as a way to blame or manipulate others into taking care of them.

    The Victim eats a daily venue of shame. Convinced of their intrinsic incompetence, they live in a perpetual shame spiral, often leading to self abuse. Perpetual Victims walk around much like the Charlie Brown character, Pig-pen in his whirlwind of dust, except Victims are surrounded in a shame vortex of their own making. This cloud of shame becomes their total identity.

    Linda was the second-born in her family. Almost from birth, she had problems. Linda was a child who was forever in trouble of one sort or another. She struggled academically, was perpetually disruptive and often sick. It came as no surprise to anyone when she got into drugs as a teenager. Her mother, Stella, was a die-hard Rescuer. Thinking she was being helpful, Stella bailed Linda out every time she got in trouble. By alleviating the natural consequences, Stella’s earnest enabling deprived Linda of the opportunity to learn from her poor choices. As a result, Linda came to see herself as incapable, becoming dependent on someone besides herself to fix things for her. Her mother’s well-intentioned rescuing sent a crippling message which promoted a life long Victim stance, keeping Linda needy and ever vigilant for a potential rescuer.

    Projection and Shadow of Victim-hood

    As individuals grow in awareness and change, they often change their starting-gate positions. Becoming aware of a primary position, they may commit to change but often merely switch roles instead. Although they may be operating from a different place, they are nonetheless still on the triangle. This happens frequently and may even be an essential part of learning the full impact of living on the triangle.

    Placing the three positions on a straight line with Victim in the middle is a way of demonstrating that Persecutor and Rescuer are simply the two extremes of victim-hood.

    Persecutor ——- VICTIM ——- Rescuer

    All three roles are merely the perverted expression of positive powers we each hold in potential, but deny. The primary face we take on determines which of these powers is being denied.

    The Rescuer part of us contains the gift for mediation and problem solving. It might be deemed a feminine aspect. The Persecutor, on the other hand, is the part of us that knows about the use of power and assertiveness. It might be considered a masculine attribute. When these essential qualities are not fully acknowledged and claimed, they get repressed into the unconscious, where they then come out in the perverted expression we see on the Drama Triangle. In other words, because these aspects are denied, they get acted out in unconscious and irresponsible ways.

    When we suppress both our problem solving ability and our power for assertive action, we take on a posture of Victim. When we see ourselves as primary mediators and caretakers, but deny our need to stand ground for ourselves by setting appropriate boundaries, we occupy the Rescuer position. Persecutors on the other hand, have hidden their caring, nurturing qualities, and therefore tend to problem solve through anger, abuse and control. In essence, the victim’s dance is a constant, unconscious surfacing of unclaimed aspects of personality that produces perpetual drama in our lives.

    We live in a Victim based society. In the United States, we like to think of ourselves as Rescuers. For many years we identified Russia as the Persecutor with third world countries being the identified under-dog, or Victim. Several years ago, USSR’s President Gorbachev was said to tell President Bush,”I’m about to do the worst thing imaginable, I’m going to take away your enemy!” Here was a man who innately understood our country’s need to have a scapegoat, providing us the chance to say,”It’s those bad communists again”. Otherwise, we, as Americans might be forced to take responsibility for our own perpetrator tendencies. Of course, Russia does perpetrate, as witnessed by the doings of their KGB, but haven’t our own CIA shown similar tendencies? Our very history is built on persecution. Within a few years of arriving in America, our forefathers began to systematically oppress and subjugate the Native Americans who had lived here for centuries! It seems a wearisome task for this country to get willing to be accountable for the ways we have persecuted. Instead, we seem bound and determined to hold onto the idea of being the world’s”good guy”. It is always difficult for Persecutors to perceive themselves as such, however. It is much easier to justify persecutor behavior than it is to own the oppressor role.

    The cycle goes like this; “I was just trying to help (rescuer), and they turned on me (victim), so I had to defend myself” (persecutor). Persecution is almost always justified as a necessary defense. It is the role most often denied. After all, who wants to admit that they ill-use people?

    The Rescuer, on the other hand, has no trouble identifying with the helper role. They are generally proud of their position as caretakers and fixers. They are socially acclaimed and rewarded for”selfless acts” of rescuing. They believe in the goodness of being caretakers, seeing themselves as ever helpful. What they deny is the ill-begotten consequences of their enabling/disabling acts. But what these”do-gooders” have most difficulty seeing is how they, themselves end up as victims. It’s very hard for a Rescuer to hear themselves referred to as victims even when they get caught red-handed complaining about how mistreated they are!

    Triangular Pain

    Living life on the Drama Triangle creates misery in many ways. The primary commonality is that none of the players are willing (or even know how) to take responsibility for themselves. The price paid is tremendous for all three roles lead to emotional, mental and even physical pain.

    Evading responsibility and/or attempting to protect oneself or others doesn’t work, and yet it is the primary goal of those caught up on the triangle. The simple truth is that the greatest pain is the anguish created in trying to avoid it. When we try to shield others from the truth, we discount their abilities. This is disabling and leads to negative reactions all around. Everyone involved ends up hurt and angry. No-one wins.

    As long as we chase ourselves and others around the Triangle, we relegate ourselves to living in robot-like, knee-jerk reaction. Rather than living vibrant lives of spontaneity and choice, we settle for a sort of pseudo aliveness. Experiencing a full life requires the ability to interact as free agents. This is impossible as long as we are involved in the Drama Triangle.

    Denied Feelings

    Frequently we find entry onto the triangle through the port of denied feelings. Whenever we deny our own or another’s feelings we inevitably end up playing a role on the triangle. We rescue others anytime we attempt to keep them from feeling bad.(“I can’t tell Jim what I think because it’ll hurt his feelings”). So we keep our opinions, feelings and thoughts secret which inevitably creates distance.

    Parents who grew up without permission to acknowledge or express feelings often deny their children the same right. Repressed, these denied emotions become secret shame pockets, alienating us from others and sentencing us to life on the triangle. Feelings may be intangible, but they are nonetheless real.

    Anytime we deny access to our feeling experience we set ourselves up for a victim perspective. We cannot take responsibility for feelings we have not allowed ourselves to acknowledge, therefore we end up on the triangle.

    Shame and Core Beliefs

    Triangular interaction is the primary way that shame is generated. Each role moves around the triangle in their own distinct way. This is because each starting gate position has a set of core beliefs that tends to set them up for that particular role. These unconscious attitudes are what creates feelings of worthlessness, inadequacy and or defectiveness. The triangle is the way we reinforce and perpetuate those shame producing beliefs.

    Rescuers, for instance, believe that their needs are unimportant and irrelevant and therefore do not deserve to be met. The only way they can legitimately connect with others(in order to meet the need to belong and feel important), is by taking care of someone else. Rescuers guilt themselves when they aren’t care-taking others. Their primary myth is;”If I take care of others well enough … long enough, then I will get my turn.” Unfortunately, on the triangle, Rescuers are taking care of life-time Victims who have no idea of how to be there for others. This reinforces the Caretaker’s core belief(“my needs don’t count”), which in turn produces more shame around needing.

    Guilt and shame are powerful driving forces for the perpetuation of the Triangle. Guilt is often used by Victims in an effort to hook their Rescuer into taking care of them(“If you don’t do it, who will?). The Victims shame producing belief of not being able to make it on their own leaves them feeling powerless and needy.

    Persecutors, believing the world is dangerous, use shame as a primary tool for keeping others in their place. Their primary goal is to feel safe by putting others down.”Get them before they get me!”, is their primary agenda. What better way of accomplishing that, then to judge, moralize or denigrate their victims?

    Dishonesty

    Of course, it follows suit that once we learn to deny our feeling reality, honesty becomes impossible. Telling our truth first requires knowing it. When we react out of denied feelings and unconscious programming, we cannot possibly know our personal truth. This means there will be hidden agendas and dishonesty. This is another primary trait of all players on the triangle. Only by knowing our truth, can we begin to speak from a place of personal honesty. Then getting off the triangle becomes possible.

    Failed Intimacy

    Although we all long for a sense of connection with others, many people are secretly terrified of intimacy. Letting someone really know us can be a frightening experience. Intimacy requires vulnerability and honest disclosure. Believing that we are at heart unlovable, defective or” less than”, makes it difficult to reveal ourselves. We want to feel unconditionally accepted, but when we haven’t accepted ourselves, it’s impossible to believe that anyone else could embrace us. Thinking we need to hide our unworthiness makes keeping a distance imperative. As long as we maintain hidden agendas and deny our truth, intimacy is impossible. Victim-hood is designed to insure alienation, not only from others, but also from ourselves.

    Getting Off the Triangle

    In order to get off the Triangle, we must first decide to take responsibility for ourselves. We then begin to allow ourselves to acknowledge and express our true feelings, even when doing so is uncomfortable. As we explore our core beliefs and starting gate positions, we become better able to recognize when someone is attempting to hook us, and refuse to allow it.

    Learning how to sit with guilty feelings without acting on them is a big part of resisting the Victim game. Feeling guilt does not necessarily imply that we are out of integrity with ourselves. Guilt is a learned response. Sometimes guilt indicates that we’ve broken a dysfunctional family rule. Growth prohibitive beliefs about ourselves and the world, instilled early on, become rigid rules that need to be violated. Family dictums such as; “Don’t talk about it”, “Don’t share feelings”, or “It’s selfish to take care of yourself”, must be overcome if we are to grow. We can expect, and even celebrate the guilt when we defy these deeply entrenched unwritten laws.

    Getting honest with ourselves and others is a primary way to get off the triangle. Telling our truth is a key way of taking responsibility. We then must be willing to take necessary action for whatever that truth reveals.

    In order for a Rescuer to get honest, for instance, they have to confess their investment in keeping others dependent. This means acknowledging that being a rescuer fills their need for self-worth. In this way, Rescuers learn to recognize and address their own needs.

    It can feel very threatening for someone stuck in Persecutor consciousness to get bare-bones honest with themselves. To them, to do so feels like blaming themselves, which only intensifies their internal condemnation. Persecutors need to have a situation or person they can blame so they can stay angry. Anger energizes them by acting like fuel in the psyche that keeps them going. It may be the only way they have of dealing with chronic depression. Persecutors need a jolt of rage the same way some people need a shot of caffeine. It jump-starts their day.

    Just as with the other roles, self-accountability is the only way off the victim grid for the Persecutor. There has to be some kind of breakthrough for them to get willing to own their part. Unfortunately, because of their great reluctance to do so, it may have to come in the form of a crisis.

    Ironically, the doorway off the triangle for all players is through the persecutor position. This is because when we decide to get off the triangle, we are often seen as persecutors by those still on it. Once we decide to take self-responsibility and tell our truth, those still aboard are likely to accuse us of victimizing them.”How dare you refuse to take care of me!”, a Victim might cry. Or “What do you mean you don’t need my help?”, says a primary enabler when a victim decides to become accountable. In other words, to escape the victim grid, we must be willing to be perceived as the”bad guy”. This doesn’t make it so, but we must be willing to sit with the discomfort of being perceived as such.

    When you are ready to be accountable, you begin by sorting through your real motives and feelings regarding your present situation. You become willing to experience your own uncomfortable feelings and to allow others theirs without rescue. If your loved ones and associates are also willing to participate in this process of self-realization, it speeds the halt of triangular interaction. If you’re ready to get off, but they aren’t, then you may have to draw some hard-fast boundaries, or even walk away. Again, this puts you at risk of being perceived as a persecutor.

    Since starting-gate Victims are the identified problem in their family, it’s natural for them to seek outside professional help. Often, however they are unconsciously looking for another Rescuer (which abound among helping professionals, by the way). Those in primary Victim roles must challenge the ingrained belief that they can’t do for themselves. If they are to get off the triangle, they have to initiate self-care, rather than look outside themselves for a savior. Instead of seeing themselves as totally powerless, they must begin to acknowledge their problem solving as well as their leadership capabilities.

    In conclusion, we must first become conscious of how it is we play out the Drama Triangle. For where ever there is dysfunction, the Drama Triangle is found. Making ourselves aware of our starting-gate positions is the first step to moving out of destructive patterns. As we begin the process of liberating ourselves from our stuck-ness through self-responsibility and truth telling, we transform our lives. In other words, we actualize our Higher Selves, thus realizing the blueprint of possibility that lies dormant within each of us.

  • Although I have been tossing random words into the blogosphere for years (I was writing in “another place” before I got here….), I seem to spend less time doing so than I used to. As a result, I also find that I spend even less time just “randomly surfing” sites, to find interesting new people whose words touch me.

    There’s something basically important, there… relating to how we “connect” with the world.

    Of course, it occurs to me that it’s probably the height of inane dweebishness to blawg about blawg-ing. At least I’ve been told such things are only for complete uncool losers. At some point in my existence, such opinions would have had a significant impact on my actions, but at some point I moved beyond letting others (and myself) “should on” me. Besides– as I said– the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet.

    I take some solace in the fact that this isn’t just “blogging about blogging,” but also a bit of an exploration of Why We Do What We Do.

    Now that’s an interesting point. There’s a huge school of thought that subscribes to the notion that when we have our lives “together,” or “in order,” our need to have ourselves (for lack of a better word) “stimulated” by virtual space decreases. On some superficial level, I understand the underlying theory– if we are “engaged” in life (by whatever definition), we have less need and time for “this.” But on a deeper level, it also strikes me as a not so well-thought-through opinion, perhaps cooked up by the mental health profession in a (valid, no doubt) attempt to persuade avoidants and recluses to get outside their front door. My point here– where does “a life” begin and end? It’s tricky. Very few people are going to tell me to “get a life” if I like to read books, but they might tell me to “get a life” if I read an equivalent number of pages online. See the problem? There seems to be a subtext implication that the more mundane our lives are, the more of “a life” we have.

    But I have wandered off-topic, here. As I sit, waiting for the caffeine to kick in– I have been contemplating what exactly makes someone’s site “readable.” And I mean that, in the sense of my likelihood to:

    (A) Read their words, rather than just clicking directly out of there.
    (B) Read their words, and actually leave a comment.
    (C) Read several entries, and leave comments, and perhaps subscribing on the spot.
    (D) You know who you are….

    There’s a saying that “Writers Write.” As a writer, I understand the truth in that, but I also understand the secondary truth that are often voracious consumers of information. It’s a rare day when “a concept” merely plops into my mind, and turns into something I write about. 90% of the time, when I sit down at the keyboard, it’s an idea from somewhere else that jump started me.

    Now….

    “Seekers” (of which I consider myself one) are always in the business of learning. There are a bajillion interpretations of what “Seeking” is about, but the subtext almost always is “learning.” We’re learning, and much of that learning revolves around the activity of trying to put our experience “in context,” be our journeys spiritual, emotional, intellectual, philosophical, or whatever. Humans are ultimately “flock animals” and regardless of whether we see ourselves as “hermits” or “partyers,” we’re pretty solidly locked in the paradigm of viewing our experiences vis-a-vis an external frame of reference.

    There are those who argue that Seekers are profoundly self-absorbed, but I have always found it rather interesting how the alleged “self-absorbtion” is almost always occurring through this external frame of reference. At most, we are “self-absorbedly” trying to frame our life through the experiences of others. Hmmmm….

    But I digress.

    Socrates said “The unexamined life is not worth living.

    In a sense, that is at the core of how I decide whether or not someone else’s words are interesting enough to read. Keeping in mind– of course– that this is a matter of personal preference, to read 437th version of what somebody’s kids did for their class project is not what I am here for. Nor is the adult version of “What I Did For My Summer Vacation.” I want to know what’s going on inside a person; what it is that motives them, gives them joy, and anguish, and fear. I want to know that they have “awareness” of themselves, and awareness of the interactive workings between themselves, and the surrounding world. I am not here to partake in some kind of “popularity contest,” including the whole “reciprocal propping” thing. Although the parallel of High School is often thrown around in the context of the blogosphere, at the schools I belonged to you never got an A+ for just “showing up,” you got it for handing in “brilliant work.”

    Of course, few people express themselves in an endless stream of brilliant insight. But there’s part of my bottom line… I am a Seeker, and I look for “insight,” rather than “paint-by-numbers.”

    Hmmmm….

    I am not sure exactly where I have landed with this. Maybe I should just pause, and continue this next time.

     

  • The “Law of Attraction” has become a trendy buzz-phrase among self-help gurus, metaphysics teachers and those who sit at their feet, these days. Now, I’m not knocking it, and you can certainly sign me up as one of those who has believed in “meaningful synchronicities” and “getting what we ask for” for much longer than it has been hip to do so.

    However, I feel that a lot of good folks miss the point. Or rather, they make a mess of figuring out what it is they ask for, by their actions.

    It’s clear enough to most folks that one of the basic tenets of everything from “Daily Affirmations” to the Law of Attraction is that you must ask for what you WANT, rather than focus on telling the world what you DON’T want. On some level it might be helpful to define what we want in terms of what we don’t want… after all, we do learn a lot through our negative experiences. However, ultimately our subconscious/unconscious (which is where all this stuff gets tossed into the cauldron to brew) only registers the actual “concepts” we put into words, not their “context.” Thus, when we say something like “I don’t want to date someone with an anger problem,” or “I don’t want to work for a smoker,” the only concepts our subconscious picks up on are “date anger problem” and “work smoker.” So phrasing is very important.

    Where people “lose it,” is when we get into the area of specificity.

    Much of the time we intuitively (and impulsively?) know what we want, yet many people don’t really think the implications of “What I Want” through to its ultimate destination. I am not sure I’d go so far as to say that everything has a “price,” but I do think a lot of generally positive things we want in our lives come with a certain load of “baggage” we never contemplate, when we make our wishes known. Maybe someone wants a swank late-model car, but ends up all surprised that their “tree hugger” friends suddenly turn a cold shoulder. Many choices involve “internal conflicts” that we aren’t always aware of while in “the heat of the moment of choice.” It’s difficult to (for example) both live a “green” and sustainable life, AND have all the trimmings and conveniences of the upscale corporate yuppie lifestyle you have grown used to. Or want to live with someone who’s a quiet introvert AND expect them to be the assertive one who goes out and brings all the excitement into the relationship.

    There’s an interesting tension there, I suppose– in the sense that “wishing” is seldom logical, yet a certain measure of “logical action” is required to turn wishes into reality.

    And, of course, we have to figure out what it is we really want– which, for many people, involves taking a closer look at personal truth than they are prepared to do.

     

     

  • Bloody L.

    Amazing how time flies by, no matter what else is going on. I just came back here– for reasons of what-evuh– and realized it has been six weeks since my last confession. Well, actually, I got a small reminder in the mail from The Powers That Be, letting me know that I had run out of premium, and would I pretty-please-with-dumplings-on-top ante up another twenty-five bucks for another year of lovely advertisement free service.

    I think– on some level– I have been writing less because I simply have less stuff to piss and moan about, since I have moved. Makes me wonder if people who keep blogs (or a lot of ‘em, anywaze) basically are using them as a platform to bellyache about the misery and confusion in their lives. Of course, I’m not saying that I have found The Answer to misery and confusion, merely that during 2006 I made a move that reduced it from the sound of having my head inside a jet engine to merely a dull roar.

    Blah, blah, blah….

    The other day, I came face-to-face with the ongoing MySpacification of the world. I was looking up some information on music, and there was more information about several artists on their MySpace profiles than on their “official” web sites. Who? Iio. Vega-4. It’s really OK if you’ve never heard of them.

    Actually, I don’t care all that much about MySpace. I think SecondLife is a far more interesting concept. It’s weird. One of my enneagram discussion groups has virtual meetings on SecondLife. I suppose what’s weird about it is that once upon a time it was considered chronically nerdy to belong to online virtual communities… now it has all become so very mainstream.

    On some level, all these virtual communities are a godsend for those of us who simply aren’t into the “bar scene” and attending festivals as our main form of interaction with the world.

    It has been cold here, for a while. There has been snow on the ground for about 5-6 days, and we’re supposedly getting more tonight. Yes, this is the northcountry, but that’s actually unusual for this otherwise mild place. Of course, I don’t let it put me off walking the eight blocks down to the beach, where I’ll wander around for a couple of hours. Or more. I was never one of those people who thought the only good use for a beach was to lay out in the sun and work on my skin cancer.

    People here are pretty friendly. Of course, there’s no reason why they wouldn’t be… but there’s a lot to be said for the energetic state of a place largely inhabited by people who live there because they want to… not because they have to, or were transferred there by Some Big Corporation, Inc.

    So, it’s a new year. I didn’t make any resolutions… other than a vague notion that I want to get back into writing snail mail. I miss writing by hand. I miss actual letters in my mailbox. Maybe it has something to do with the slowness of where I live. No road rage. No people sitting in traffic for an hour to get to work. A traffic jam is 10 cars backed up at the stop sign at San Juan and 19th. Or people waiting for the ferry, at the end of a holiday weekend. Yup, gonna write more letters…

    The way I see it, you can either “be somewhere” and adapt, or you can take your sorry ass to a place where you won’t have to adapt… which, in itself, is a form of adaptation. The same can be said jobs, or habits, or ideas, or thoughts, I suppose. I have always been a “lazy” person, in some respects… “lazy,” in terms of personal adaptation. I was always sick to death of needing to be something I was not. I think it was Geroge Bernard Shaw who commented along the lines of if you don’t like your circumstances, look for some circumstances you do like. Makes eminent sense to me.

    Right now, I am even working on the idea that there is a way to make a living from spending part of the day walking on the beach. Don’t laugh, I’m dead serious.

     

  • It has been a really long time since I have lived in a place with “microclimates.” Right after Thanksgiving it started snowing here– and as some of you might have seen on TV, there was a veritable blizzard around the Puget Sound and lower BC area. It was also cold (at least for these parts of the world) with temps dropping to the low teens. All in all, about two inches of snow fell here, and I felt somewhat mystified by the Seattle TV reporters stating that Port Townsend had eight inches of snow.

    Until, that is… I decided it was no big deal, and I’d go to Safeway for some groceries.

    Indeed, on the other side of town (which is barely two miles, over a hill), it was a winter wonderland. Even today, as I went to the grocery, there was still snow in hollows and shady places… there has been none here for six days.

    I tend to end up pondering odds and ends, as I drive around. The very different ways “all that snow” fell in the same small town, within a couple of miles, made me think about the different ways we perceive things, and all the miscommunication and conflict that arises, as a result.

    Simplistically speaking, is 72 degrees “hot,” or “cold?” And who decides? And what is the “right” answer?

    These sorts of questions rear their ugly heads when we get to issues of deciding whether something is “good,” or “bad.” The conflict points tend to come about when someone has an “investment” in a certain perception, and another person challenges that perception. Often it happens in situations that are a debate over some intangible, like whether or not the outcome of a situation is “good.” But what’s really and honestly “good” for one person may fall well short of expectations for the next person… and an argument erupts.

    It has always fascinated me how two people can have the exact same experience (positive or negative), at the same time… and even in the pursuit of a “common interest,” yet one sees the outcome as “excellent,” while the other sees it as “shitty.” Could be something as simple as two people with the same income and the same car getting the same kind of fender-bender fixed… yet one thinks $500 is “a good deal” while the other thinks the same deal is “outrageous.”

    I think about this stuff, and I am reminded that it’s a small miracle that we even get along with each other… and that, of course, is my perception… where someone else would probably insist that getting along is easier than first grade math.

     

  • I still have to get used to this whole idea that “at night” on the west coast means that most people on the other side of the country have been fast asleep for some time…. I was looking back through ye olde memory banks today, and realized that it has been more than 10 years since I was living in Portland; the last time I spent any significant time in the west.

    Then I was thinking about writing some blah, blah, blah about Thanksgiving and being thankful. It’s not that I’m not thankful– and I have a lot to be thankful for, this year– it’s just that “thankful” blogs at Thanksgiving are so incredibly prosaic. The most I can bring myself to do is make a “sidebar comment” about WallyWorld’s web site, which went offline for more than ten hours, yesterday… I can’t even imagine how many head rolled, as a result of that small forkup.

    I’ve really gotten out of the habit of writing, over the last two months. And I have missed it– but “other stuff” has simply taken over my life. Now, some semblance of a “new normalcy” is setting in.. which means I can get back to doing some of the things I really enjoy. Being away from writing… did reinforce what I already knew: That the creative writing process is central to my overall well-being. It’s not (as some people like to tell me) just “a waste of time.”

    I got to wondering, earlier today… how many people out there get trapped in a pattern of “getting ready” and “preparing for” life, but never actually get around to being alive and in the present moment. I’m sure you have people like this in your life (or you may even be one, yourself…); they are forever telling you how they will take up painting, or write a book “after they get better organized,” or “after they retire,” or “when they have more time.” They are eternally tidying up their metaphorical desks… but seldom does the real stuff of life get onto that desk. I know how that goes… I spent many years “preparing” to move. “Thinking about it” isn’t enough…

    It’s blowing like stink outside, and we’re under a snow advisory… a few flakes fell earlier, but the bulk of it is supposedly coming through tomorrow. I look forward to walking on the beach, in the snow… haven’t done that since I was a kid…

    Happy Thanksgiving to all– hope your holiday weekend has been going well!

     

  • Moving, resurfacing and good intentions…

    Well….

    Ahem.

    Back again, in a manner of speaking.

    Appears it has been two months. And a bit of change. Who’da thunk?

    Ultimately, few things end up going as planned.

    In this case, the “intention” was that by purchasing some shyghte expensive wireless Internet service from Verizon, I’d be able to stay connected during my “moving hiatus,” perhaps writing a little, certainly checking and sending email.

    Not so, my friends. The only real connectivity I have had has been wireless hot spots and an occasional “blip.” All for $69.99 a month, thank you, come again. And frankly, where I find myself today is outside Verizon’s service area, even though the “I-know-more-than-you-could-ever-hope-to” salesperson in Austin (who was really “too fine” to be working at such as lowly job as a ”wireless salesperson”) “knew” that I would have coverage everywhere I went. Note to self: Never believe what someone in a city tells you will work in a smaller town, 2500 miles away…

    Some locals tell me we are too close to Canada here to have good wireless coverage, because most carriers don’t want their “unlimited” air to spill over. That way US account holders will have to pay expensive roaming charges north of the border. Whether there’s any truth to this I don’t know– what I do know is that I will be spending some time talking to the snivelling bumfucks customer service reps at the nearest Verizon store, which is about 50 miles from here. Talking about things relating to getting out of this wireless contract.

    Actually, there were intentionS.

    Multiple. Plural.

    Self-moving (as opposed to tossing $15,000 at United Van Lines, or others of their ilk) across the country takes a lot of energy and bandwidth. Or… it could just be that I am getting old. Moving seemed easier when I was in college– but back then it was only a few miles, and all my worldly possessions fit into a hefty bag there wasn’t as much stuff to move (My worldly possessions never fit into a hefty bag. Well… except when I spent a while living on the street. Well… even then I had “stuff” in relatives’ attics. Nevuh mind.).

    Bottom line is that I expect that even if I had had reliable connectivity, I wouldn’t have had the bandwidth to deal with moving and “having a life.” Those of you who have done the cross-country move thing know what of I speak. You prep feverishly up till the actual moveout date, then you travel 2500 miles (which takes far longer than expected because [a] trucks are slow and [b] you’re exhausted and just want to take some days off), then (if you do it this rather unprepared way) you arrive at the other end with really no plan, toss everything in the moving truck into a storage space (hoping you’ll actually find housing not too far from the storage space) temporarily, and try to find a place to live that doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.

    An assortment of body parts later, you discover that “affordable housing” only exists somewhere east of Jesus… like small towns in Nebraska… yadda, yadda….

    Short answer: The whole process was frakkin’ exhausting, and extremely protracted. All in all, it’s a pretty boring story. Long. Tedious. A bit like West Texas, when it hasn’t rained in a long time.

    Well…. OK… up in the left column here, it used to say that someday I’d be settling down in Port Townsend, WA, Seattle or some other place around the Seattle/Puget Sound area.

    So I did.

    It’s called “creating your own reality.”

    I picked up my entire world in Tex-arse (well, at least the bits I decided to hang onto), moved them across the country, and arrived here, armed with, basically…. nothing.

    At some point, I figured I’d move to Seattle. As it turned out, rents were really too spendy, unless one is willing to live 20 miles beyond BFE Suburbia. Already been down that road… just with some different geography. So now I am calling Port Townsend “home.”

    Where’s Port Townsend? It’s way up in the upper left corner. At the top of a peninsula, surrounded by water on three sides. At the end of the World. Depending on where in town you stand, you can see (at least on a clear day) Mt. Baker, Mt. Rainier, The Cascades, The Olympics, Puget Sound, Discovery Bay, The Straits of Juan de Fuca (practically the Pacific), the san Juan islands and Canada. It’s a six block walk from where I live to the beach. It’s a five block walk to 500-acre Fort Worden State Park (if you suffered through “An Officer and a Gentleman,” it was filmed there). There are apple trees in the yard. The air is cool and I can breathe it. The trees are tall. Stuff is very green– greens, layered on greens, layered on greens– because it rains a lot, and the temps rarely creep above 80. This time of the year they barely creep up to 50. It rains a lot. I like rain.

    And no, I am not afflicted with SAD. Never was; unlikely to ever be. But thank you for asking….

    I was never one who wanted to go to the tropics on vacation. But then you’ve heard me piss and moan complain about that here, for some years.

    It’s an old town, very laid back. Very liberal, about the exact opposite of whence I came, in Texas. At some point in the past, I guess a whole bunch of hippies came here, discovered there was no further to go unless you had a boat, and stopped here. It’s so interestingly different to see women in their 40′s, 50′s and even 60′s with waist length free-flying hair. Men too, for that matter. It’s so interestingly different that the most common vehicles here are 80′s model Volvos and Subarus, rather than brand-new Mercedes, Jaguars and SUVs so large they can be seen from the moon. There are few (if any) “McMansions” here. Most of the town was built before 1950. A lot of it before 1900. People actually ride bikes as transportation, not just as exercise devices. There are more artists per capita here than any place else I have ever been. The biggest bookstore in town (perhaps half the size of your typical Barnes & Noble) carries only metaphysics, psychology and self-development titles.

    We’re NOT in Kansas, anymore.

    Which is a good thing.

    A really good thing….

    I finally have cable Internet again.

    Which is also a really good thing.

    Although the withdrawals from two months without the web were not really as severe as expected.

    I owe 837 people approximately 3,459 pieces of email. Take a number, have a seat….

    No, really… I’ll get there…

     

  • From Beginning to Ending to Beginning…

    The room around me is mostly empty; a few packing boxes for “decoration,” a desk with a few books and papers, a phone, a computer from where I write this. Actually, I’m writing this from the portable; the regular desktop machine is in a box.

    A phase of my life is at the verge of coming to an end. I arrived in Austin on January 9th, 1981. Now I am leaving. Within a couple of days, I will leave this chapter, closing the book on more than a quarter-century of existence.

    I have lived in five different residences, while here– not counting a couple of previous attempts to move away. I started out in a tiny 1940′s efficiency apartment that hadn’t been updated since the 60′s. I didn’t really expect to stay, so I never saw it as much more than a glorified hotel room. It was “furnished,” meaning that it had the bare-bones necessities you find in inexpensive living spaces. But it was cheap, and within walking distance of Safeway and the municipal golf course. It had lovely orange shag carpet. It reminded me of the description of “living in digs” sometimes found in English literature.

    Once I’d accepted the fact that I was going to “be here for a while,” I moved into a new condo project down the same street– with K, my girlfriend-later-wife. It was a nice space, and not too horribly expensive– unfortunately, it was bought near the top of the 80′s real estate boom in Texas. A few years later, aformentioned wife said “I can’t stand living in this little box,” so we moved to a house, still within the city– a “nice” house, in a “nice” neighborhood. Bigger than I would have wanted, smaller than she wanted, more expensive than we could really afford. We lived there for quite a few years, and I stayed on there, even after she moved to Dallas…. but we ended up selling it after she took a job in Oregon, and the “writing was on the wall,” as far as the marriage was concerned. I developed a “bad” relationship with real estate– selling the condo for $30,000 less than the original price, and selling the house for about $15,000 less. Not out of “hardship,” or needing to “fire sale,” but simply because they had been bought at two market tops and sold near two market bottoms. 

    After that, I moved into a swank one-bedroom apartment in the booming northwest growth corridor of town– in many ways, those years were my happiest, as my “load” felt lightest. It was weird. Everyone I knew sympathized with me about “how awful” it must be for me to be living in a 680 square foot apartment rather than a house– I loved it. I started to become “me,” rather than a reflection of someone else. Then I met A, and eventually we moved into this house, in 1998. And now, that house has been sold. I am glad to say, for more than it originally cost– although it feels whacked that in the 20 years I’ve owned real estate in this otherwise booming Sunbelt city, the general average market price has gone up by 230%, while the properties I have owned (on a net basis) have about allowed me to break even. Adjusting for inflation, I have about 30% of what I started out with, in current-dollars.

    Interestingly enough, this is also the story of two “migrations.” One migration is the journey to myself– with each subsequent move, I left a little of my cluelessness and “false self” behind, and found a few more nuggets of authenticity. And, with each sequential move, I went from living virtually in the downtown core, to close-in city, to near suburbia, to edge city, to out in the sticks. And there’s an odd dichotomy in that– with each move I got closer to myself, but further away from “being in the world.” I have learned (for the second time, actually) that the further I get from a city, the more “disconnected” I feel from the essential energy of the world. It’s an odd thing– I’m basically a nature nerd, but I need the energy of the “hive” (city) to keep me connectd to life. But some part of me is aware that maybe I needed to “disconnect,” in order to truly get in touch with my introspective self. And now, as a more grounded human being, I feel more able to reconnect with the stuff of life.

    Of course, there’s a third “migration,” too. The migration that will take me from the city of Round Rock, TX (basically a northern suburb of Austin) to the city of Port Townsend, WA (roughly across the water, northwest of Seattle). Although the migration is happening “now,” it actually began in the fall of 1987– the first time I went on vacation in the Puget Sound area and “felt” something. It’s a long story which I won’t share here (if you care, you can read it here on my web site), but as I sit and write this I have a feeling that I have finally completed my training in “something,” and am about to go forth into uncharted territory.

    I feel very quiet. There is a great silence in my soul. There’s a tiny seed somewhere, “trying” to feel sadness, or loss, at this point of closure. That same tiny seed showed itself when I graduated from college, when I shut down my business, and when I left the courthouse after the final divorce papers were filed. I am vaguely troubled by the fact that these watershed moments only seem to offer a profound sense of relief, not loss, nor sadness or regret. A part of me examines the possibility that I was never “invested” enough in any of these life events to give much of a shit. Then again, maybe it’s normal human nature to not be deeply invested in situations where you largely feel like a fish out of water. Ultimately, it leaves me with an unpleasant aftertaste, questioning just why I have spent my life so ready to “just accept” so many things that have fallen so short of ny expectations and genuine wants.

    Sometimes I think I am nuts.

    And I wonder why I am doing this.

    But some part of my essence understands that I have never really had any “good old days,” and this whole process is about creating something that can become my “good old days.”

    Some part of my essence understands that– possibly for the first time in my life– I am doing something (major) because it represents what I truly want, not just some “accident thrown my way.”

    Some part of my essence understands the rightness of the new chapter that’s about to start– a chapter based in intuition and gut feel, rather than intellect and logical thought.

    Now I am going to toss the last few things in my office into a box, and dismantle the bookshelves. Tomorrow– or the day after– the truck will be fully loaded.

    As I drive away, the CD player will be cued up with the song I always knew would play me out:

    Sun beats hard
    On Sunset Boulevard
    Much harder still
    In Notting Hill
    A northwind blows
    And carries me home
    Carries my heart, carries my soul
    When cool silks they turn to suede
    When young dreams are torn and frayed
    The South feels so cold and grey
    Today! Today the North’s too many miles away
    Today! Today I got to get away
    I’m driving north
    I’m heading home
    I’m driving back
    To the place I once belonged
    It’s all gone silent
    The light begins to fade
    One man unplugs
    The penny arcade
    And carries me home
    Carries my heart, carries my soul
    I’m driving north
    I’m heading home
    I’m driving back
    To the place I once belonged
    One sweet bouquet
    The flowers strewn
    The petals scattered
    Here in the North
    No dreams are shattered
    I’m driving north
    I’m heading home
    I’m driving back
    To the place I once belonged
    No we don’t feel angry
    No we don’t feel betrayed
    Unlike our fathers
    We don’t remember better days
    No we don’t feel angry
    No we don’t feel betrayed
    We just live
    In this day and age

    I am not sure when I will be back– nor from where I will be calling in. I did recently enter the 21st century, and got wireless Internet.

    However, there is no “plan;” no “anchors” tying me to anything. There are only prospects.

    And invitations.

    And possibilities.

    And the dream of…. Someday.

    And that’s really OK.

    Peace and love to all of you.

    Especially to You…

  • The cats are trying to take all this upheaval in their stride. “Big” is nonplussed, as is his way, and continues his life mission of being the most laid-back cat on the planet. Kramer– who has always been highly strung– believes the boxes are his own personal jungle gym.

    catsmoving

    “Will it all get done?” I keep asking myself. And, of course, “life” keeps going even as all this madness continues.

    And now I have to build a ramp to use when the moving trailer gets here. It has no ramp, and the deck is four feet off the ground. Part of the “joy” of using an economical moving service.