The Zen Backpack

This is from a Wings 4 you challenge called Zen Suitcase. I made a
"Zen backpack." It's all the stuff I want to take with me into my new
improved life: my husband, love, happiness, paintbrushes, camera and
books, my manuscripts, and the paper dolls represent friends and
family. LOVE, yeah love. The backpack is the pot of gold at the end
of the rainbow, the dubloons represent abundance of all good things,
LOL! Ink and colored pencil with gesso and Wite Out for white.

The books represent books of healing, books of learning, and all the
books I want to write and illustrate.

Links

I'm adding some links to our list in the side bar that I think people will find interesting. The first is Isabella Mori's blog Change Therapy. She's a counsellor with a lot of useful information on the 12 steps and eating disorders. The other is Peggy Collins' Help Is Not A Four Letter Word, where you can get free information on how to ask for help.

Enjoy :]

Grateful

I am so grateful for the 17 years I had with my husband. When I first met my husband, I was 19 years old, and had just ended a five year abusive relationship. It sounds funny to say that now. How many 19 year olds have been in a five year relationship? At the time, though, it didn't seem strange. I dated him off and on through high school, and lived with him for a year, but it took several years to get over him. My husband helped me through it.

He was a patient man, who listened to me. He was 30 when we started dating, and he said that he knew right away that I was the one for him. I guess he was old enough to know what he wanted. I still had some growing up to do, so he waited patiently for me [a couple of years] to realize that he was the best thing that ever happened to me.

At first the relationship was awkward to me, and I was very insecure. I was so used to being put on a pedestal and then shot down, which is common in abusive and co-dependent relationships. He wasn't emotionally dependent on me, and it was difficult for me to understand why he was with me. He helped me to finally realize that he didn't need to be with me, he just really wanted to be with me. When I understood this, my life changed.

He was my best friend. We could tell each other anything. Nobody has ever known me, or loved me as much as he did. Not even my parents. With him, I learned self respect, and how to see myself as worthy of love. To him, I was special, even when we reached that phase in our marriage where we were in a rut and taking each other for granted. I could tell him I was bored, and he didn't get defensive or judgemental. We worked together to make our marriage more interesting and find new things to do as a couple.

We spoke the same love language. We both showed our love by being there and listening. All he ever wanted from me was for me to be home when he got home from work, to listen to how his day went, and to be on his side supporting him. He didn't care if the house was a mess or that there was no dinner. An hour or so of venting about work and a good back scratch, and he was happy. In return, he was always understanding of my depression, and never judgemental.

He wasn't perfect, though, and had his faults. He was messy. Ok, he was a slob. Sometimes, I would just give up cleaning up after him. I learned to live with that. He also wasn't very out going or social. As long as he had me around, he was inclined to be a hermit. To outsiders, he seemed grouchy, but to the people who knew him, he was laid-back and easy going. Everybody that knew him liked him. It was easy to overlook his imperfections and occasional grouchiness.

I have never met anyone that I've had more respect for. He was honest, hard working, and principled. He gave each job his best, even when the pay was little. A trait that was important to both of us. He had quite a reputation of respect in his industry. When a company had a job they couldn't fix, they would call whatever company he was working for at the time. He was proud of his reputation, but I was more important to him than his career, and he would always put me first.

As a result, I centered my life around him. I had no idea how dependent I had become on him until after he died. I trusted him completely, and didn't worry about him leaving me. On June 30th 2001, he died from a heart attack. He previously had no sign of heart trouble. I could not believe he was gone. It didn't seem real to me. Yet, there must have been a part of me that feared this, because I remember telling him once regarding his smoking, that I did not want to become a widow before I was 40. Now, seven years later at the age of 42, I find that I'm still lost without him.

What I miss most since he's been gone, is having him to talk to. Part of what I was learning when we were going through that "boredom" phase of marriage, was that I needed to find myself again as an individual rather than as a couple, and not be so dependent on my husband for happiness and purpose. This process was much easier when I could talk to him about it.

So, why am I so grateful? Most of the people around me are carrying some pretty hefty scars from their past relationships and marriages. I can't imagine going through what I'm going through today without ever having known the love, trust, and respect my husband showed me. Because of him, I know what a healthy relationship should be like, and how to love myself. He gave me the opportunity to see myself through his eyes, and no one can take that away from me.

The picture above is a T-shirt design that I made for him when we were first married, and I was working a printing company. He wore that T-shirt out.

The twelve steps and forgiveness

I just wanted to mention that the very effective twelve step programs
that helps so many alcoholics, gamblers, drug users and overeaters
deals more with forgiveness than any other issue.

Twelve Steps

1. We admitted we were powerless over
alcohol/drugs/food/gambling/other people(etc)—that our lives had
become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore
us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of
God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact
nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to
make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to
do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong
promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious
contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of
His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we
tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these
principles in all our affairs.

4-10 have to do with forgiveness, more than half, as does step 12,
which is to contue working the steps above. Being "restored to
sanity," has in large part to do with giving and receiving
forgiveness. (And of course, confession is such a large part of the
Catholic Church.)

Sunflower, first section

I have finished reading The Sunflower, just the first section of the book with Simon Wiesenthal's story. I cried a lot. Strangely, perhaps, I did not cry at all during most of the early book. I cried when he began to truly struggle with his memories and with forgiveness. I cried hard and loud and luckily was alone.

I also read one of the responses, the one from the Dali Lama. I have to say I found it a bit alarmingly pat, annoyingly so. I guess there was so much soul searching going on by Simon that I felt a pat-seeming answer was inappropriate. Somehow disrespectful. (I often feel that way when leaving comments on people's blogs who have exposed their souls, and I can only say, now now, don't worry, everything will be fine.)

But nothing will be fine, or, everything will be fine in the sense only that there is some perfection in imperfection.

I have struggled all my life with issues of forgiveness, but this book brings up larger issues than the ones I have previously deeply considered.

Are there unforgivable sins or wrongs?

Does anyone have the right to forgive on behalf of someone else or a group?

Are there times when forgiveness is actually wrong?

I always thought that forgiveness was always right, but that it was
just terribly hard to do in some cases.

I heard on NPR recently about a case where the parents of a girl who
was murdered somewhere in Africa has helped the murderer and now
consider him like a son.

I have a hard time imagining myself able to do something like that, or
even that it was the right thing to do. I was very upset and confused
when I heard the story.

Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. Clearly, we are not to take
revenge against others. And for Christians, Jesus died on the cross
so that our sins would be forgiven.

Which brings me to another personal story. This is a sort of weird
story and one that some people have reacted badly to, so I am a little
afraid to tell it, but I guess I will, since I seem to feel compelled
to do so.

First, a little background. My father was an atheist. He was raised
Catholic, but did not believe on God. My mother was an agnostic and
talked more and more about God, or the possibility of God, as she
aged. (This annoyed some of the other atheists in our family.) We
lived in a small community, and my parents liked to sing, and the only
opportunity for singing there was the church choir. We went to church
and my parents sang in the choir and we went to Sunday School.

When I was in high school, I was baptized and confirmed in the
Presbyterian Church. A few years later, I repudiated the Church and
God and became an atheist/agnostic. Confused, basically. I remain
confused, lo these many years later. I am of two minds, a scientific
mind that says life ends when we die, period, and a hopeful, questing
mind that seeks belief. I have tried many forms of religion over the
years and have been unsatisfied with each and all of them.

Maybe about ten years ago, or so, I was sitting in the little park in
front of the museum where I worked. It was evening, and I had had to
work late. I was alone, having my dinner break before returning to
work. I had been reading. The park and streets were full of people,
a small band was playing nearby. I stopped reading, looked around,
and closed my eyes briefly.

I was not asleep. I could hear a man talking on the phone (a pay
phone near me--this was before cell phones were so prevalent). I
could hear people talking on the other side of me, and people coming
and going.

Suddenly, Jesus was standing in front of me. I was not entirely
pleased and said something to him that would sound sarcastic and
disrespectful to a true believer, but I was not a true believer. I
said, "What are you doing here?" He smiled. He communicated to me
directly in my mind, like a conversation, only silent. He gave me to
know that he had been out on the desert fasting, praying and
meditating. That seemed appropriate to me, as I did a lot of that
myself. A connection, or sorts. Grains of sand clung to his skin. I
could see every hair and pore on his skin. He was deeply tanned and
nearly naked. He told me, very clearly, more than once, that I was
his, that I belonged to him, forever. That I was forgiven, now and
forever.

I think of that moment, sometimes, when I feel unloved and unworthy.
When I feel that I have done something bad, something unforgivable, I
remember that I am forgiven. At least by him.

Other times, I dismiss it as a hyopnogogic/dream or wishful thinking.
But I was fully awake and had not been wishing (consciously) for Jesus
and was not even pleased to see him! I did not consider myself to be
a Christian.

I still do not believe in God, not entirely, anyway. I do not attend
church and do not consider myself to be a Christian, exactly. But I
continue to find solace in the notion of my being forgiven.
Continuously, forever.

I have not succeeded in forgiving myself or other people I need to
forgive, with some exceptions, and I have not asked for forgiveness
from all the people whom I have wronged. I believe this is important
work and that I need to do it. Being forgiven by Jesus that night
does not excuse me from doing the important work of forgiving and
asking forgiveness. But it gives me a sense of peace and courage,
sometimes, when facing traumatic forgiveness issues in my life.

As an abuse survivor and very human and flawed person, I have lots of
personal forgiveness issues both in giving and receiving forgiveness.
But I have had little intimate experience, thank God, with the horrors
of genocide, war, and so on that Simon speaks of, or the incredibly
difficult choice he was given. I cannot answer what I might do, at
this point, or what even is right. I have to start all over to
consider these questions.

I keep wanting to believe that forgiveness is always right. But
torture? Murder? Rape? Inflicted terrible sufferings to total
innocents--children, the aged? If you forgive the perpetrator, what
about the victim?

The Dali Lama urges forgiveness and compassion. I want to agree with
him. Jesus said, love thine enemies. He didn't mean hug them and kiss them or have sex with them.

What did he mean? He meant compassion, forgiveness, understanding.

When someone hurts me, it takes me a while to reach the point of being
able to forgive--even small injuries.

Simon was still being hurt, and was in imminent danger. He was living
in fear and numbness. It's much easier to forgive from a distance,
much harder to forgive while immersed in pain. Closer to home, should
a woman who is in an ongoing abusive relationship forgive her husband
who is still beating her? As he is kicking her, should she forgive
him?

The Bible says, turn the other cheek. But that is easier said than
done, and may not be safe for the woman in question. I knew a woman
who was a very nice sweet lovable, kind woman, and very forgiving.
She kept forgiving her husband for striking her. Over and over, she
forgave him. He killed her. Killed her dead. Now she is gone.
Confusing.

I still think forgiveness is the right thing to do--but get safe
first, if possible.

I think I am rambling here. I think personal forgiveness is right.
It's what I believe in.

Forgiving for a group in a situation like Simon describes, that's a
little harder. No, it's a LOT harder. I still think I believe in
forgiveness. But could I do it, in that situation? Probably not.

Here's what I think. Each person is an individual. One cannot hold
the SS guy (Karl) responsible for all the sins and wrongs and horrors
of all the SS. Only for what he personally has done, and then you
have to look at the extenuating circumstances. You have to be able to
walk a mile in his shoes. We can't do that well. That's why the
Bible says, "Judge not, lest ye be judged." It's not our job to
judge. We cannot know, truly know, what is in the heart of another.

Can you forgive without making a judgment? Do you have to believe
that the person is "worthy" of being forgiven? Who makes that choice?
Can you forgive without it? I think yes. Personally you can,
anyway. You have to. For yourself.

Who do we forgive for? Ourselves or for others? Or both? I think both.

WOW! I could go on and on and on about this, but I have other things
to do, so I am just going to stop for now.  [All this relates to steps 4-10 and 12, which deal with wrongs and righting wrongs and forgiveness!]

(photo by me, mary taitt)

to-do (first things first)

I am still cogitating about my to-do list. I am unsatisfied with it
and with how I view it.

Priorities. What ARE they, really? Is making a piece of art a
legitimate use of time or an escape from what I should be doing? Who
defines art? I spent several days workingon this--was it worth the
time? What makes something worthwhile. I keep wondering.

A personal story (steps 4-10)

I received my book, The Sunflower, On the Possibilities and Limits of

Forgiveness. I have begun to read it, but life has been busy and I
haven't gotten very far yet.

I wanted to share a personal story.

I don't have time to write it all right now. But since I don't know
when I will, I will write some of it.

My first husband, let us call him PIUS, used to to beat me. He was
physically abusive and hurt me frequently. He was also emotionally
and spiritually abusive, controlling and sometimes mean. I used to
run away and he would find me and hit me over and over. These words
do not begin to tell what terror I lived in. He told me if I left
him, he would come and find me and kill me, and I believed him and was
afraid to go.

A few years ago, he wrote and asked if I would forgive him.

My first impulse was to say no. How could I forgive what he had done?
He not only physically, emotionally and spiritually hurt me, but he
affected how I view men, and the relationships I am able to have with
them. I am still "damaged" by our marriage and the way he treated me.

I told him I would think about it.

Late I told him I would try to forgive him.

But while I was reading the book, I felt driven to truly forgive him.
I wrote and asked him to forgive me for my part in our troubles,
wondered if I had already asked, and told him I forgave him.

This is what he said:

"You never asked, No.
We were young and foolish. I never didn't forgive you and
never held it against you.

I always felt bad about the things I did. Like stopping you from chanting
NamYoHoRengekyo which I have been doing since
1981. And many other things which were almost unforgivable and took
many years to grow out of.
Thank you and please accept my most sincere apologies for the
hurt, disregard, disrespect and anguish."

I feel a great sadness, I feel tears, and I feel lighter. But this has been many years in coming. I was 19 then. I am 62 now.

Forgiving and asking forgiveness is part of the work of the twelve steps. It is hard hard work, but the results are worthwhile! If you are interested in joining a group on forgiveness, please let me know!