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Archive for February, 2011

++++++++++++++ The sentiments reflected in the words below follow exactly along the lines the United Nations identified within the large and growing gap in America between the quality of life for America’s most ‘pampered’ children and those that live a far less ‘pampered’ life. The New York Times Editorial by columnist Paul Krugman (published online [...]

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I call that feeling overwhelming sadness. It is a grief that humans are not meant to ever experience, and it comes from ONE thing: Being born to a mother so absolutely and completely unable to love her infant-child that she hates and hurts it instead.

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After all, even in the most glorious sunrise Creation has created beauty. I want to follow THAT path – and not the OTHER one – however I am able to do that today. If I have to teach my own body about this better way of life every step of the way, then I intend to do that.

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Well, my mission in life is to do A WHOLE LOT BETTER THAN THAT! And to do that requires of me that I learn to do what nobody ever did for me while I grew up. I need to care-give myself. I need to pay as very close attention as I can to how patterns operate between me-myself-my body and the conditions of the external world. At the very least I could say I am fragile. And yet there’s a contradiction there.

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What triggers my ‘worser’ depression days? I usually don’t know……

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Abuse survivors – the power of a private blog….

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++++++++++++++++++++++++ I reached the point today in my adobe garden project where I could not continue unless and until that rickety old shed out back came down.  Today was the day — I DID it! +++++ Now, here’s a series of my latest adobe work in the backyard’s very southwest corner: ++++++++++++++++++++++++

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As I was being viciously attacked, screamed at, physically slapped, beaten, punched, dragged and thrown around like a rag doll in the center of the thousands of my mother’s rages I had nothing inside of myself to hold onto except what I knew of my own reality at any given moment. The facts as I knew them never matched what my mother said was true.

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Birth trauma – why my mother abused me ‘and not the others’

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Wholeness, call it ‘holistic’ if that’s the best word we can find in our language, seems to me to be the exact opposite of what I experienced in my unbelievably sick home of origin.

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