Hi Mstebbi



https://bit.ly/2J9kgek






Mary Stebbins

Re: Guess who we ran into in New Hampshire

I think I answered this--we are sitting at the bottom of the stairs at the ice cream store in Peterborogh,

On Mon, Oct 9, 2017 at 8:38 PM, Keith Taitt <tahquaman@yahoo.com> wrote:

So what are all these Berriers doing in New Hampshire?  And where, precisely, are you all sitting?  Not a familiar setting to me--a public building, judging by the smokestack next to Jane.

Greetings to all, please distribute hugs from me as appropriate.

                                                                                               K

On Sunday, October 8, 2017 10:14 PM, Mary N Taitt <taittems@icloud.com> wrote:

Sent from my iPhone

--

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives. 
C. S. Lewis

Mary

Picking Up the Pieces

This is my latest project, hanging on the wall right above my computer monitor. Mary helped motivate me to finish it with her project titled False Advertising (see the previous post).

The background is a poster I bought for the very first apartment I had living on my own. I was 18 at the time, and trying to get out of a bad relationship. I had been living with very controlling boyfriend and his mother before that. He ended out moving in with me for about 6 months, until I finally got the nerve to pack his things and take him back to his mother. He told me I would never be anything without him. I was so afraid of being alone. That was 30 years ago to the day. I've been carrying around this poster and the frame he made for it ever since, though I had never hung it on a wall again, until now.

It seemed fitting to finally do something with it now after the breakup of my latest relationship. I guess living in an apartment alone again after all these years is what inspired me. I thought of the title before I had any idea of what I wanted to do with it. One day while I was thinking about the poster and my first apartment, I noticed I had put my hands together in the shape of an upside down heart, and thought, "I should paint my hands with the sun shining through, since I'm no longer afraid of living alone."

I didn't know what else to do, though, until I read Mary's False Advertising. I liked how the layers of tissue paper in her collage represented the layers we build up for protection emotionally. In mine the tissue paper is transparent, because my last relationship made a fool out of me, so I feel exposed.

Then there's fire coming out of the sky - the anger, and the water, which is symbolically spiritual to me, turns into puzzle pieces. The "cracks" I painted with a clear gloss varnish mixed with gold glitter, because that's my version of a cloud's silver lining, and they extend all the way into the frame that the first boyfriend made. In fact, the "cracks" go through everything except my hands - the fire, the puzzle pieces, the transparent layers, but not me.

"What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger." - Frederich Nietzsche. I think that's why I like this song so much. It's called Break the Chain. It was written for an organization called One Billion Rising. Every year on Valentine's Day, people around the world organize a flash mob dance to this song to help raise awareness of the staggering statistics of violence against women (1 in 3 or one billion women world wide have been raped or beaten in their lifetime, and I'm one of them).

In my efforts to pick up the pieces of my life, I participated in the dance on the steps of city hall here in Houston  to help the mayor spread awareness of the problem here in Houston. We're the #1 city for human trafficking, and the task force she's implemented is called Shine a Light on Human Trafficking. Here's the video of us doing the dance:

Mary Stebbins Taitt sent you a story! False Advertising

I sent this Cowbird story here completely by accident, but since it is here, I left it.  It seems to apply.  To read the story, click on the second image.

Ongoing Forgiveness and finding balance

The poison Spindle (unfinished illo by me)

It's easy for me to be smug about forgiveness when I am happy and all is going well and the dark corners of my soul are hidden from view. BUT what if I am the Fairy (become wicked witch) who did not get invited to the wedding?

How do I avoid planting a poisoned spindle?

That actually happened to me, many years ago. A good friend--or so I'd thought--got married. Her fiance wanted my boyfriend as his best man, but my boyfriend and I had just had a fight. They decided that to avoid tension at their wedding, they would not invite me. I was incredibly hurt. Our friendship was never the same after that. I felt unloved and rejected. I've tried and tried to forgive. I have not succeeded as well as I would prefer. We are polite and write to each other every year at Christmas, but the closeness is gone. I would like to truly forgive, to forgive deeply and be cleansed of any lingering resentments. But that is not what I reallywanted to talk about.

The current issueone is GB, my stepson. He did not show up at home tonight in time to leave for his guitar lesson. This is the boy who "doesn't consider me family," who stopped calling me "Mom," though he called me that for many years, who doesn't want me to adopt him. Orphan boy. But it's me calling to make him his last minute already late doctor appointments so he can join track and me calling all around trying to find him so he won't miss his guitar lesson. And there won't be any thank yous. Not today, and probably never.

Do I need them? I probably shouldn't need them. I should be able to rise above it all, to continue to be loving in the face of rejection--and I keep trying--but sometimes, it's hard. Very hard.

Anyone know a way to detoxify a poison spindle?

I want to do nothing dishonorable or unloving in the face of continued rejection and being taken for granted. (can those two be in the same sentence together, rejection and being taken for granted?}. IS there such a thing as ONGOING FORGIVENESS? How does one learn that skill?

The Twelve steps teach that forgiveness is important. So is not being a doormat. I do not want to be a doormat for GB, but I also don't want to be a wicked stepmother. I want to find that good balance, but I don't know where it is or how to find it.

Forgiveness, part 101

Sometimes, I am not sure whether or how to forgive. I feel confused.
I ask myself:

a. Jesus (What would Jesus do?) It's been suggested that we ask this when confused about how to proceed. Jesus was not always Mr. Kindness and forgiveness. He kicked over the tables of the moneychangers. He cursed a tree that wouldn't flower for him. So how do we know when to forgive and when to start kicking? (I had Sissy acting like Jesus in my kids' book, Frog Haven!)

b. Buddha (What would Buddha do?) Imperturbability? I can only FAKE IT! I can "Act as if." I can pretend. But inside is a maelstrom. It rears its ugly head when my guard is down. How can I calm the maelstrom inside? (Prayer helps).

When forgiveness?

When forgiveness?

At what point does forgiveness come into the equation when there's been an argument or misunderstanding??  Does s/he have to ASK for it, apologize?  I usually just forgive him or her the best I can after a while because otherwise there is too much tension.  And I feel too sad.  But if there's been no apology and the bad behavior continues, is forgiveness appropriate?

More thoughts on forgiveness

Notes in reponsie to my previous post (see below)(Thank you, A)

A friend just told me she thought I was very good at forgiving.

Sometimes, I think I am good at "acting"--at pretending I've forgiven--trying to make my wishes to be a forgiving person into a reality that doesn't fully exist, a sort of hyper "acting as if."

The reason I say that is because I wake up in the middle of the night obsessing about something I think I've "released."  And then can't sleep.

Somethings that seem like little things--like my husband planting grass seed in my garden without asking.

I get mad at him more than anyone else.  I forgive him more than anyone else.  I guess that's not surprising, as we spend more time together than we do with anyone else.

But acting "as if"--as if I've forgiven him--just sort of pushes the hurt feelings deeper down where the resurface to bother me at night,

On the other hand, telling him how I feel often provokes a fight.  And a long drawn out process which may include lots more to try to forgive!!

I'd like to do a better job of being human.  I guess that means forgiving MYSELF for my imperfections, too!

Such Hard Work

Forgiving is SUCH HARD WORK. I have to do it over and over and over and then do it yet again.

I woke up early in the wee hours of morning today, in the darkness, ANGRY yet again about something I thought I'd put behind me. Angry and then depressed. Depressed that I can't seem to let go. I'm angry about a series of relatively small things. What it it were something large? How successful would I be at forgiving?

It's easy to have a holier-than-thou attitude, for me, and think, of course I would do the right thing and be forgiving. It's so much harder to actually do it. And to continue to do it for as long as it takes to succeed. Prayer helps.

(This sunflower is a detail from a quilt made by Marie Zeller from Grosse Pointe Michigan and displayed at the Michigan State Fair. Click on the image to view it a little larger.)

Today's Fractal

I have company coming and a zillion things to do, and what am I doing?
PLAYING! BAD ME!!! (Procrastinating--never do now what I can put
off til later or til forever.)

“A life spent in the hedonistic seeki...

"A life spent in the hedonistic seeking of personal pleasure is not a good or honorable life and does not lead to the greatest happiness."

(Not real happiness anyway.  Empty pleasure and happiness are not the same.)

My teenage son spends very little time with BB and me.  When he is with us, he is somewhat surly and unwilling to listen.  I came up with the idea of emailing him very short pithy statements in hopes that he will read them in case I have something important to say--important to him, like so and so called and wants a call back.  By the time he's realized I'm not conveying that kind of information, maybe he will have registered my point.  Or maybe not.

I despair at this point in his becoming a real person, but I guess that's common for the mothers of teenage boys.  I'm told be the time they are 35 or 40, they may actually become human again, but I may not live long enough to see it.

What I emailed to him is the part in quotes.  BB thinks that PB is totally incapable of applying the wisdom to himself, of seeing the connection, of understanding that I mean HIM.  He, PB, the boy, wants nothing other than to hang out with his friends, drink soda, eat junk food, and follow every whim.  He constantly wants us to hand over money for foolish purchases, but he is very angry if we ask him to do anything, including clean his room or rinse his dishes and put them int he dishwasher.  And he walks out without saying goodbye or telling us where he's going.  (Which he just did, and when a friend calls, which one just did, I have no idea what to tell them.)

Anger

This is anger. It is hot and strong and dark and scary. Anger is sad
as well as mad.

This is a left-hand (non-dominant hand) drawing.

Pondering today’s discussion

Pondering today's discussion, Friday, July 31, 2009


If I am driven, at least in part, by my desire to "please my father," who is dead, and if I have internalized my father as an inner father that I am still trying desperately to please, and if I somehow find healing with those inner selves so that I no longer feel driven to succeed at pleasing my inner father, will I lose the drive to create and succeed?  Or will it be possible to find some "middle ground," perhaps a more balanced and pleasant one? 

It frightens me to think I might lose my desire to create.

I have, perhaps, an overly active drive to be creative.  I could be happy to tone it down a little and live in a more balanced way.  But I don't want to LOSE it.

I have, on the one hand, a desire to be creative and a desire to succeed, BUT I also have something that stands in the way of my success—perhaps my ADHD or perhaps something deeper and more insidious.  I work on projects for years and often do not complete them.  I have many unfinished novels poetry manuscripts and art pieces.  I write first drafts of poems, revise them once or twice, and put them aside and rarely send them out.

What I would like is to have a more balanced approach to my creativity, instead of such a driven one.  I would like to work on one or two projects at a time and see them to completion and fruition and find a way to balance my "work" (writing and art etc) with family, chores, social life, pleasure, etc.

Right now, I have a tendency to neglect my chores when consumed with work.

I want to continue to work, but to do it in a more balanced and appropriate way.

I do want to heal.  I feel bad inside, and have for years.  I want, as the serenity prayer says, to have the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.  (Of course, really, I want to change all the bad things to good, but I do know that's not likely to happen.)

So yeah, I want to improve my relationship with my inner father.  But keep my creativity transformed in a balanced and appropriate way.

Voltaire

VOLTAIRE:
No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.

Many people hold onto a grudge because it offers the illusion of power
and a perverse feeling of security. But in fact, we are held hostage
by our anger. It is never too late to forgive. But you can forgive too
soon. I am especially wary of what I call "saintly forgiveness."
Premature forgiveness is common among people who avoid conflict.
They're afraid of their own anger and the anger of others. But their
forgiveness is false. Their anger goes underground. I define forgiving
as letting someone back into your heart. This returns us to a loving
state -- and not merely within the relationship -- we feel good about
ourselves and the world. True forgiveness isn't easy, but it
transforms us significantly. To forgive is to love and to feel worthy
of love. In that sense, it is always worthwhile.

Memories and Repcruussions 2

Memories and Repercussions

All my faces I burned at the your door, stepped
over your threshold blank as the first piece of paper
slid from a newly opened ream.  I fanned the ashes
of self into your dogwoods and lilacs, but they filtered
in through the poisoned earth to remind me who I was
before I met you. Those shadows, though immolated
in flames, still dance in dreams.  Every day a new face, old
as its tortured scars, blossoms from the blank visage
I donned for our wedding.  One by one, I claw
them off and they scuttle like rats under our bed
to screech and whine for my attention.  They interrupt
the soft touch of your hand on the curve of my hip
during the long wakeful hours as I listen, helplessly,
to their squabbling and pronouncements. So many
of them pile around our rooms, like wadded
and rejected drafts, that I can no longer find the unblemished
self I tried to give you. For your protection. And mine.
Nor can we find each other now among the heaps of drooling
faces, the raging masks that bury and drown us both.


Mary Stebbins Taitt
For K
090720-1254-2, 090720 1st

love first

In The Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne says:  "It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates."

I love this quote and I think it's true that our first instinct is to love and be close, and only when circumstances push us away do we lose this.

Hawthorne goes on to say, "Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility."  I think the same can be said of forgiveness--that is, time and innate love can transform lack of forgiveness to forgiveness.  We can speed the process by choice and intention.

Separating forgiveness from condoning ...

Letting Out the Old Anger, by Mary Stebbins Taitt


Separating forgiveness from condoning the act

This is from a discussion I had with another blogger and I thought I'd share it here.

She said, "I cannot separate forgiveness and condoning the act that needs to be forgiven."

I said:

I think separating forgiveness from condoning the act is a crucial thought and act.

You can learn to forgive WITHOUT condoning the act that was wrong.

People are human and everyone, including you, makes mistakes, does bad things--right? I sure know I do.

We HAVE to be forgiven because we are all imperfect and we get tired and grumpy and all sort of things cause us to to do wrong.

Try saying to YOURSELF (at first) and then maybe to some safe other person, I forgive YOU even though what you did was wrong and hurtful. I do not erase the wrong, I do not forget the wrong, but choose to forgive, even if I have to do it over and over again, I will forgive you.

Whether or not ALL acts should be forgiven is a question. I think probably they should, but boy oh boy, some are pretty heinous. Start with easy things, maybe.

My first husband beat me--very badly, more than once, and was abusive in other ways. He called me up years later and asked me to forgive him. I told him I wasn't sure I could. Later, I told him I would. I wasn't really sure I could, but I said I would, though I might have to keep trying.

I am crying now as I write this, because the pain is still there. But I do think I have finally succeeded in forgiving him. It was a long row to hoe. Speaking forgiveness inside and then aloud is a first step.

I get angry easily, probably too easily, and forgiving is hard. I think it's important. It may take me several days to forgive my husband when he has done something annoying or worse.

However, having said that, I will also say this: if someone hurts me ABUSIVELY, I need to find a safe refuge and keep myself safe. Forgiving does not mean allowing someone to continue to hurt you.

It's hard to know, sometimes, where to draw the line. There are people who can help with this if you need it.

I am not complaining but . . . I am ...

I am not complaining but . . .  I am feeling WELL and I don't know why

The past two days were fraught with stress and worry and lots of bad food.  I ate everything I'm allergic too:  chocolate, peanuts, dairy etc.  I also ate snacks, fried food, drank some coke!  I expected to be up all night last night and to feel absolutely terrible today.  These expectations are a result of years of experience--I usually don't sleep and feel terrible after eating bad food and being stressed.

I am very grateful that in fact I not only (so far, knock on wood) slept very very well (for me), but also feel actually better than normal.

So, of course, now I want to know WHY so that I can hopefully continue to feel well.  Or return to feeling well if I slip away.

So what is different?  Well, I don't know. 

Remember how I slept outside in a tent most of one winter because I suspected inside air of causing me problems?  Because the air conditioner isn't running, we have fan in the bedroom bringing in outside air and one in the bathroom pulling it through.  Could fresh outside air have a positive influence? 

I can't even THINK of what else might be different.

Could it be being rescued by prince charming from all the horrors of a dead car in a distant place?  I dunno.

erasing

old age and treachery! (Abuse etc)

Freewrite for Poetry 090512

Vertigo and Freewrite for Poetry 090512

I have just had an hour-long episode of vertigo that has left me feeling nauseous, dizzy and worried. I made a note of it for my doctor, who I happen to be going to on Friday, Muna Beeai. She's my GP. My neurologist thinks it could be silent migraines. I am afraid to do my normal morning exercises, because I am feeling dizzy and I am worried the vertigo will start up again--it came in two batches this morning, first lasting only 2-3 minutes, and then when I thought it was over, I moved and it started up again. So now, of course, Ia m afraid to move.

Oh-oh, appears my fears were well-founded--I just moved and it DID start up again, with a vengeance. 8:40 start. Room spinning bad. I keeled over to the left. Hit my head, not hard. Curled in a ball on the floor waiting for it to subside. Burst into a terrible sweat. Managed to crawl--literally--over to the computer and get into my chair. It seems to be subsiding again. 8:50 on Leo's clock, seems to have mostly stopped--ten more minutes of vertigo--but I think it is still with me and will return if I move.

OK, so let me start this freewrite again. I'm feeling dizzy, nauseous, worried, frightened. The room is spinning--OK--not spinning, holding relatively still now. But I'm afraid it will spin again. There is an odd dull feeling on my left side. That is, the left side of my head--I think it is starting to hurt. I had a lot to do today, and I am bummed about that as well, but also worried about what causes these spells of vertigo. Dr. Moudgil says it could be migraines, but it was also suggested that it might be a smalls stroke or a seizure. It's very scary, especially when I fall suddenly. That fall was very reminiscent of the time in Hamilton, Ontario where I suddenly lurches to the left and bumped into the wall of the hall. Nothing more happened then, but I did the same thing just now--lurched suddenly to the left.

The sun is shining brightly and I would like to go outside. I need to feed the squirrel, rocky, the wild birds and clean Rocky's cage and Eager's cage and make breakfast and shower and dress and get going on my tasks for the day. BUT I am afraid to move.

I can think of nothing unusual that I ate yesterday, only things I've been eating fairly regularly: steel cut oats, brain, rice milk, pork, calamari, shrimp, scallops, mushrooms, broccoli, yellow squash. I feel pretty sick. I can't do this, I have to go lie down.

10:00 I've had two more incidents of vertigo and still feel sick. 9:11-9:14, 9:40-9:55 accompanied by sweating and nausea. Fairly bad vertigo and nausea--probably not four incidents, but one long one, not over yet. It's been THREE HOURS NOW--I feel like it's wasting my whole day on the one hand and on the other hand, am quite scared. Worried about what it is and means. I got up out of bed because I have to pee and get a drink. I also need to feed the squirrel, but that involves bending over, which tends to exacerbate the problem.

More than 3 hours of vertigo, during which time I was unable to accomplish anything and spent most of the time in bed. Finally got up, made breakfast, sat out in the yard next to the shadow of the silver maple in the neighbor's yard--that is, I was in our yard, but the maples is on theirs. I had a weird experience where a shadow appeared on my hand that did not seem to come from the tree.

Vertigo Shadows

At the edge of a shadow cast by the neighbor's oak,
sun shines on my face, a breeze rustles my hair
and the shadow of the oak shifts and wriggles, restless
and hungry, withdrawing and then approaching
my bare toes, over and over while the whole dancing
shadow with it's patches of sun slides slowly closer.
Shadows of leaves, shadows of branches, shadows
of baby acorns nestled among the leaves. Shadows
of robins passing each other with worms and insects,
shadows of their babies opening wide their mouths.
A touch of cold startles me. I look down to see darkness
on my hands, isolated and with no visible source
from the tree. The deep, cloudless sky throws no shadows,
but the shadow on my wrist expands toward my heart.
Compelled to drink from that well of night. I bend toward
my hands. A black wave engulfs me. The earth tilts, the sky
spins and the tree lurches. I smell bruised grass, damp soil.
Feel tiny pebbles mashed into my cheek. Sweating
and cold, I watch the jonquils and tulips leap jaggedly
in the garden. Jump and twist spasmodically. On my knees,
my body curls in Bala-asana, the child pose, and I close
my eyes to still the jumping. The darkness
behind my eyes turns and jerks raggedly. I breathe
slowly. Feel a passing chill, another shadow.
I open my eyes to see a vulture circling, its shadow
passing over me again and again.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
090512-1229-1st

NOTE: This did NOT happen as written, but is a combination of the earlier experience of vertigo with the later experience of the shifting shadows and the mysterious one on my hand.