“Linked with women's subordinate position vis-a-vis men, women's survival strategies include observing men's behaviour because it affects what women have to do to avoid male violence. (In contrast, states William Goode, men do not often observe women's lives because their behaviour is not affected by them”. Women, for example, monitor footsteps behind them or sexualised comments or glances directed from men because they must devise strategies in case the encounter moves in a direction not of their own choice. Certainly, in many instances, but unpredictably so, the footsteps or the glances could be characterised by women to be men's perfectly 'innocent' behaviour. This characterization, however, only arises after there has been 'no trouble'. As long as women do not feel coerced by men's behaviour, then women feel safe, or feel that at least this time they are not immediately threatened.
Being on guard for women, though, is not paranoia; it is reasonable caution. Many women have encountered men's threatening, intimidating or violent behaviour at first hand. As children, many women have had experiences of sexual abuse, either from male relatives or from male strangers. Quite likely, female children are even taught to be on guard for male strangers who wish to offer them candy or money to do somethin unspeakable (unsepakable, because, of course, few of us were ever told why male strangers might wish to offer us goodies). Female adolescence too is a time of learning what it means to be on guard. As soon as women begin pubescent development, they actually begin to see men's behaviour toward them change. Adolescent women are met with comments, glances, whistles, admiration for the visible development of their sexuality. At the same time within their peer group, sexual experimentation starts. Fending off male sexuality, much of which is initially welcomed, the young woman learns that she cannot always control sexual encounters she engages in. She also learns that if anything 'happens', she is to blame. As adults, then women have acquired, as part of their maturation, an idea of how men respond to them as sexual beings. They are also aware that they are less physically powerful than men, that much of their surrounding world rewards them for their feminine appearance, and that men – young and old – make sexual advances toward them. It is not uncommon that, by the time women are adults, they have experienced some form of coercive, threatening, intimidating or violent behaviour from men. It is no wonder that, as adults, women are on guard.
Elizabeth A. Stanko
Intimate Intrusions Women's Experience of Male Violence
1985, New York, N.Y: Routledge & Kegan Paul, Inc
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
World View
I recently wrote this following paper for a class in school. As it's the first time I've received 100% on a paper, I thought I might post it here:
I grew up in Northern Alberta on the same farm that my dad grew up on. Both of my parents were raised in this rural community and met when they were in their late teens. I have four siblings, and am the second born. In what was a “normal” rural upbringing in Northern Alberta at the time, my dad “farmed” and my mom worked off the farm to support the very low income of the farm. We were chronically on the financial edge, as was/is often true for the small family farm. My dad went away to work on the oil rigs in the winter, leaving my mom to look after the kids, her job, and the 100 or so head of cattle that they continually had. My dad had a problem with alcohol until I was in my mid-20's. In my family, the men worked the land and looked after the cattle. The women cooked, cleaned, and looked after the men – in all manner of speaking. We were raised to believe that males were not really capable of managing their emotions, therefore we didn't share our problems with them.
It was in this environment that my Worldview was shaped. My parents worked very hard – in fact, they continue to work very hard. My siblings and I often joke that, even with the age difference, we neither want to, nor can we, keep up to our parents' level of work. In some ways, this work ethic was reminiscent of the “Protestant Work Ethic” that they were both raised in. And in other ways it was about the survival of their family and their farm. And now, I believe they are attached to the habit of working so hard; that is, they don't quite know what to do with themselves if they aren't working. This attachment to working is one that is well ingrained within me. I, too, work hard and value and admire a strong work ethic.
In the community where I grew up, with a First Nations community only a couple of miles away, there was overt racism. As I look back, there was no sense of “political correctness” in the language and actions of the white community. When my uncle married a woman from Jamaica, she was one of the first “black” people in the community. There were Chinese immigrants in the area who did what they could to “fit in” in, but they, too, faced overt racism. As I grew into my early adult years, I started to become aware of my own racism. When I studied Social Work I became very aware of it, and began the long road of healing the racism. A close friend of mine says that, like recovering alcoholics, those of us from British descent are “recovering racists”.
As I have grown and developed both personally and professionally, I have come to see the assets that my upbringing has provided to me. My mother's strength of character was the basis for my own feminist ideals. Both of my parents always believed that their children could do and be anything they wanted to be, however they never pushed us in any particular direction. In this way, we were allowed to find our own selves and follow our own paths. My mother developed a career for herself and became a highly admired community leader – not necessarily for her business acumen, but for her compassion and understanding as well as her assertiveness in problem solving. These are values and personality characteristics that I have integrated within myself.
My dad had/has a love of, and respect for, the land that he modeled for his children. The land really became my dad's religion. When he needs to re-connect with himself and with his version of Divinity, my dad gets on his horse and rides the hills. Where my mom was/is community minded and relational, my dad was/is a loner and found his own answers within himself, trusting himself. These are also values that I have integrated within myself – the belief that I have the answers within me and that if I spend some time reflecting, I am likely able to come to some resolution. I adopted my dad's love for the land and his connection to it.
In my family, we considered ourselves “Presbyterian”. We attended church only sporadically, however. My dad often called himself an Atheist, my mom called herself a Christian. As children, we were neither discouraged from nor encouraged to follow any particular religious path. My siblings and I have all become deeply spiritual individuals associating with very diverse traditions. My own love of the land and feminist perspectives have evolved into the goddess traditions and Witchcraft.
My worldview has grown and changed as I have aged. As a very young woman I became a single parent. This created its own particular joys and struggles. But from this I developed a stronger sense of independence and belief in the power of self. I learned to value my own ability to look after myself and my child; I learned to value my ability to do things on my own. I became more stubborn about seeking out help, sometimes seeing asking for help as a weakness of character. Not for others, but for my own self.
In the struggles that I faced as a single parent, I began to develop a sense of Social Justice. I became increasingly aware of the inequities within society. I became increasingly politically active, learning to advocate for myself, my son, and then the broader community. These values and personality characteristics developed as I studied social work. The values within the profession of social work were woven into the fabrics of my own values. That is, the values of equality, of compassion, of empathy, and of action were honed and polished. I became more challenging of systems and less accepting of the status quo.
Social Work, as a career choice, became indelibly ingrained not only as a job, but as a lifestyle for me. I saw my ability to advocate for people, to influence decision makers, and to organize resistance as key personality characteristics that I honored and nurtured within myself. I became involved in union activism and then in larger international social justice issues. I continue this activism now. In this way, it's my world view that these systems are interconnected. Corey (2005) describes liberal, cultural, radical, and socialist feminists amongst some definitions (pg 343 and 344). I would situate myself with all four of these as well as with the global international feminists (pg 345) that Corey describes.
As described above, however, it is also one of my personality characteristics to resist the status quo. Although I openly call myself “feminist” and “witch” I am also fully conscious of the implications of using these very loaded words. And so I choose to use them with discernment. In this way, my use of these and other “loaded” terms is generally conscious and used as a means of impacting and/or affecting those around me. I like to push normative boundaries, so to speak. I recognize that there is a line that I have drawn around this practice, however. As a professional, I have found that I do not push these boundaries so overtly with clients as I do with my co-workers, friends, and acquaintances. I believe that this is a reflection of my understanding of the power differential between client and social worker. It is my strong belief that when I meet a client in a professional capacity, it is my role to meet their needs, not my own. I also recognize and believe that I cannot go untouched, so my client's needs and my own are not mutually exclusive (see Corey, 2005, pg 17 and 81).
In my family of origin, formal education was not valued. Neither of my parents graduated high school. We never discussed secondary education as a possible path for me or any of my siblings. I learned, however, as a young woman, that education was a way out of poverty for myself. When I first attended school, I also learned that actually I was quite smart and appreciated as an adult learner. There developed, for me, a love of education for its own sake. In this way, one of my values is that of a model of life long learning. I see the ability to continue to educate myself is a privilege within my society and culture, as well as the broader international communities. I recognize that by the grace of being born in this country, education is made available to me. Given my own experience it seems logical that I would believe that education is an important way out of poverty for others, as well.
Implications for the Practice of Pastoral Counselling
Currently I work in the field of Child Protection as a social worker. I have been able to observe my own self as a professional within my practice. My values of deep compassion and willingness to witness people's life situations are present. I believe that as I begin a practice as pastoral counsellor, that I will continue with these values. I think that they are strengths within my personality; they allow me the patience to support people through the telling of their stories to the degree that they think they need to tell them. It is my belief that the telling of our stories begins the journey to healing the wounds accumulated along the path of our lives. It is in this way that I find myself situated on a continuum that supports longer therapy. I realize that this is not something that's available to everyone.
As I answered the prechapter self-inventories in the Corey Student Manual (2005) I found myself reflecting on my counselling biases with the following types of questions: “The key to understanding human behaviour is understanding the unconscious” (pg 37); “Although we are not determined by our past, we are significantly influenced by our perceptions and interpretations of these past events” (pg 51); “We are not victims of circumstance, but we are what we choose to become” (69); “The primary responsibility for the direction of therapy rest not with the therapist, but with the client” (pg 82) and “It is important that clients tell their stories and give voice to what they are experiencing in the present” (pg 161). These statements are revelatory to me in that I recognize a distinct theme within myself about the role and goals of therapy.
Consistent with my feminist belief system, I believe that we are deeply influenced by our childhood and our relationships with our families of origin, as well as with the culture that we grow up in. I believe that early childhood experiences imprint themselves on our unconscious. In this way, we begin to move unconsciously in the world, reacting to our shadow selves and our projections, (Sharp, 1998 pgs 45 and 59). I believe that it is my role, as therapist, to assist with making the unconscious conscious. Another of my biases became evident to me through the Corey Student Handbook (2005) and that was that I believe strongly that the relationship with the therapist plays the primary role in the therapeutic process. I believe that this is part of my personality characteristics – I build relationships with people quite effectively as I am compassionate, caring, kind, and interested in them.
I believe that people absolutely have the capacity to change, however I think that (in true social work fashion) they have to want to change, first. It is my sense that once someone makes a decision to change, the role of therapist becomes one of guide as opposed to expert. In this way, and consistent with my spiritual beliefs, the individual is their own authority and expert on their own life.1 It is my very strong belief that people do not have to be victims in their lives. My upbringing instilled the value of self-sufficiency in me, and so I believe that it's valuable work to support people to become self-sufficient.
Through my life experiences I have developed a deep spiritual connection to and love for life – my own and the lives of others. This has evolved into a powerful sense of optimism and hope in and for the world and humankind. I consistently receive feedback that I radiate this optimism and hope. Along with being a value and worldview, my optimism and hope are also in tune with my spiritual beliefs. I was delighted to be trained in Solution Focused Counselling and Motivational Interviewing techniques through my employment; this model and technique both fit well within my practice and values.
Hoffman, Kolevzon, and Sowers-Hoag (1989) wrote about the apparent evidence that an individual's personality characteristics determine whether a certain counselling model or techniques will be a good fit for that person. This perspective makes logical sense to me; it seems like it is a bit like meeting a new person when I learn a new theory. I play a bit, and learn a bit, and eventually decide whether that person can fit into my life. A theory offers information and techniques; I can try them for a bit, play with them, and eventually will find what is most comfortable based upon my personal characteristics and values. One of the risks I see for myself, in this process, is becoming too comfortable in a certain style (contrary to my belief in challenging the status quo) and not trying other theories or techniques as they evolve and develop.
Corey (2009) says:
“The person and the professional are intertwined facets that cannot be separated in reality. We know, clinically and scientifically, that the person of the therapist and the therapeutic relationship contribute to therapy outcome at least as much as the particular treatment methods used” (pg 17).
This is my lived experience. The person I am is the social worker I am is the therapist I will be. My experience is that the most important part of this discussion is my own self-awareness about these values, beliefs, and personality characteristics. So long as I know where I stand on these parts of myself, I am able to be better aware of the impact I have on the client. And ultimately, what I hope for is the best therapeutic outcomes for my clients.
References
Corey, Gerald. (2005). Theory and Practice of Counseling and Psychotherapy, 8th Edition. Belmont, California: Thomson Brooks/Cole.
Corey, Gerald. (2005). Student Manual for Theory and Practice of Counseling and Psychotherapy, 8th Edition. Belmont, California: Thomson Brooks/Cole.
Crook, Kenneth H. and Truscott, Derek. (2004). Ethics for the Practice of Psychology in Canada. Edmonton, Alberta: University of Alberta Press.
Doherty, William J. (1995). Soul Searching Why Psychotherapy Must Promote Moral Responsibility. New York, N.Y.: Basic Books.
Hoffman, Cheryl, Michael S. Kolevzon, Karen Sowers-Hoag. (1989). Selecting a Family Therapy Model: The Role of Personality Attributes in Eclectic Practice. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, Vol. 15, No. 3, 249-257.
Sharp, Daryl. (1998). Jungian Psychology Unplugged My Life as an Elephant. Toronto, Ontario: Inner City Books.
Starhawk. (1990). The Spiral Dance A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. New York, N.Y.: HarperCollins.
I grew up in Northern Alberta on the same farm that my dad grew up on. Both of my parents were raised in this rural community and met when they were in their late teens. I have four siblings, and am the second born. In what was a “normal” rural upbringing in Northern Alberta at the time, my dad “farmed” and my mom worked off the farm to support the very low income of the farm. We were chronically on the financial edge, as was/is often true for the small family farm. My dad went away to work on the oil rigs in the winter, leaving my mom to look after the kids, her job, and the 100 or so head of cattle that they continually had. My dad had a problem with alcohol until I was in my mid-20's. In my family, the men worked the land and looked after the cattle. The women cooked, cleaned, and looked after the men – in all manner of speaking. We were raised to believe that males were not really capable of managing their emotions, therefore we didn't share our problems with them.
It was in this environment that my Worldview was shaped. My parents worked very hard – in fact, they continue to work very hard. My siblings and I often joke that, even with the age difference, we neither want to, nor can we, keep up to our parents' level of work. In some ways, this work ethic was reminiscent of the “Protestant Work Ethic” that they were both raised in. And in other ways it was about the survival of their family and their farm. And now, I believe they are attached to the habit of working so hard; that is, they don't quite know what to do with themselves if they aren't working. This attachment to working is one that is well ingrained within me. I, too, work hard and value and admire a strong work ethic.
In the community where I grew up, with a First Nations community only a couple of miles away, there was overt racism. As I look back, there was no sense of “political correctness” in the language and actions of the white community. When my uncle married a woman from Jamaica, she was one of the first “black” people in the community. There were Chinese immigrants in the area who did what they could to “fit in” in, but they, too, faced overt racism. As I grew into my early adult years, I started to become aware of my own racism. When I studied Social Work I became very aware of it, and began the long road of healing the racism. A close friend of mine says that, like recovering alcoholics, those of us from British descent are “recovering racists”.
As I have grown and developed both personally and professionally, I have come to see the assets that my upbringing has provided to me. My mother's strength of character was the basis for my own feminist ideals. Both of my parents always believed that their children could do and be anything they wanted to be, however they never pushed us in any particular direction. In this way, we were allowed to find our own selves and follow our own paths. My mother developed a career for herself and became a highly admired community leader – not necessarily for her business acumen, but for her compassion and understanding as well as her assertiveness in problem solving. These are values and personality characteristics that I have integrated within myself.
My dad had/has a love of, and respect for, the land that he modeled for his children. The land really became my dad's religion. When he needs to re-connect with himself and with his version of Divinity, my dad gets on his horse and rides the hills. Where my mom was/is community minded and relational, my dad was/is a loner and found his own answers within himself, trusting himself. These are also values that I have integrated within myself – the belief that I have the answers within me and that if I spend some time reflecting, I am likely able to come to some resolution. I adopted my dad's love for the land and his connection to it.
In my family, we considered ourselves “Presbyterian”. We attended church only sporadically, however. My dad often called himself an Atheist, my mom called herself a Christian. As children, we were neither discouraged from nor encouraged to follow any particular religious path. My siblings and I have all become deeply spiritual individuals associating with very diverse traditions. My own love of the land and feminist perspectives have evolved into the goddess traditions and Witchcraft.
My worldview has grown and changed as I have aged. As a very young woman I became a single parent. This created its own particular joys and struggles. But from this I developed a stronger sense of independence and belief in the power of self. I learned to value my own ability to look after myself and my child; I learned to value my ability to do things on my own. I became more stubborn about seeking out help, sometimes seeing asking for help as a weakness of character. Not for others, but for my own self.
In the struggles that I faced as a single parent, I began to develop a sense of Social Justice. I became increasingly aware of the inequities within society. I became increasingly politically active, learning to advocate for myself, my son, and then the broader community. These values and personality characteristics developed as I studied social work. The values within the profession of social work were woven into the fabrics of my own values. That is, the values of equality, of compassion, of empathy, and of action were honed and polished. I became more challenging of systems and less accepting of the status quo.
Social Work, as a career choice, became indelibly ingrained not only as a job, but as a lifestyle for me. I saw my ability to advocate for people, to influence decision makers, and to organize resistance as key personality characteristics that I honored and nurtured within myself. I became involved in union activism and then in larger international social justice issues. I continue this activism now. In this way, it's my world view that these systems are interconnected. Corey (2005) describes liberal, cultural, radical, and socialist feminists amongst some definitions (pg 343 and 344). I would situate myself with all four of these as well as with the global international feminists (pg 345) that Corey describes.
As described above, however, it is also one of my personality characteristics to resist the status quo. Although I openly call myself “feminist” and “witch” I am also fully conscious of the implications of using these very loaded words. And so I choose to use them with discernment. In this way, my use of these and other “loaded” terms is generally conscious and used as a means of impacting and/or affecting those around me. I like to push normative boundaries, so to speak. I recognize that there is a line that I have drawn around this practice, however. As a professional, I have found that I do not push these boundaries so overtly with clients as I do with my co-workers, friends, and acquaintances. I believe that this is a reflection of my understanding of the power differential between client and social worker. It is my strong belief that when I meet a client in a professional capacity, it is my role to meet their needs, not my own. I also recognize and believe that I cannot go untouched, so my client's needs and my own are not mutually exclusive (see Corey, 2005, pg 17 and 81).
In my family of origin, formal education was not valued. Neither of my parents graduated high school. We never discussed secondary education as a possible path for me or any of my siblings. I learned, however, as a young woman, that education was a way out of poverty for myself. When I first attended school, I also learned that actually I was quite smart and appreciated as an adult learner. There developed, for me, a love of education for its own sake. In this way, one of my values is that of a model of life long learning. I see the ability to continue to educate myself is a privilege within my society and culture, as well as the broader international communities. I recognize that by the grace of being born in this country, education is made available to me. Given my own experience it seems logical that I would believe that education is an important way out of poverty for others, as well.
Implications for the Practice of Pastoral Counselling
Currently I work in the field of Child Protection as a social worker. I have been able to observe my own self as a professional within my practice. My values of deep compassion and willingness to witness people's life situations are present. I believe that as I begin a practice as pastoral counsellor, that I will continue with these values. I think that they are strengths within my personality; they allow me the patience to support people through the telling of their stories to the degree that they think they need to tell them. It is my belief that the telling of our stories begins the journey to healing the wounds accumulated along the path of our lives. It is in this way that I find myself situated on a continuum that supports longer therapy. I realize that this is not something that's available to everyone.
As I answered the prechapter self-inventories in the Corey Student Manual (2005) I found myself reflecting on my counselling biases with the following types of questions: “The key to understanding human behaviour is understanding the unconscious” (pg 37); “Although we are not determined by our past, we are significantly influenced by our perceptions and interpretations of these past events” (pg 51); “We are not victims of circumstance, but we are what we choose to become” (69); “The primary responsibility for the direction of therapy rest not with the therapist, but with the client” (pg 82) and “It is important that clients tell their stories and give voice to what they are experiencing in the present” (pg 161). These statements are revelatory to me in that I recognize a distinct theme within myself about the role and goals of therapy.
Consistent with my feminist belief system, I believe that we are deeply influenced by our childhood and our relationships with our families of origin, as well as with the culture that we grow up in. I believe that early childhood experiences imprint themselves on our unconscious. In this way, we begin to move unconsciously in the world, reacting to our shadow selves and our projections, (Sharp, 1998 pgs 45 and 59). I believe that it is my role, as therapist, to assist with making the unconscious conscious. Another of my biases became evident to me through the Corey Student Handbook (2005) and that was that I believe strongly that the relationship with the therapist plays the primary role in the therapeutic process. I believe that this is part of my personality characteristics – I build relationships with people quite effectively as I am compassionate, caring, kind, and interested in them.
I believe that people absolutely have the capacity to change, however I think that (in true social work fashion) they have to want to change, first. It is my sense that once someone makes a decision to change, the role of therapist becomes one of guide as opposed to expert. In this way, and consistent with my spiritual beliefs, the individual is their own authority and expert on their own life.1 It is my very strong belief that people do not have to be victims in their lives. My upbringing instilled the value of self-sufficiency in me, and so I believe that it's valuable work to support people to become self-sufficient.
Through my life experiences I have developed a deep spiritual connection to and love for life – my own and the lives of others. This has evolved into a powerful sense of optimism and hope in and for the world and humankind. I consistently receive feedback that I radiate this optimism and hope. Along with being a value and worldview, my optimism and hope are also in tune with my spiritual beliefs. I was delighted to be trained in Solution Focused Counselling and Motivational Interviewing techniques through my employment; this model and technique both fit well within my practice and values.
Hoffman, Kolevzon, and Sowers-Hoag (1989) wrote about the apparent evidence that an individual's personality characteristics determine whether a certain counselling model or techniques will be a good fit for that person. This perspective makes logical sense to me; it seems like it is a bit like meeting a new person when I learn a new theory. I play a bit, and learn a bit, and eventually decide whether that person can fit into my life. A theory offers information and techniques; I can try them for a bit, play with them, and eventually will find what is most comfortable based upon my personal characteristics and values. One of the risks I see for myself, in this process, is becoming too comfortable in a certain style (contrary to my belief in challenging the status quo) and not trying other theories or techniques as they evolve and develop.
Corey (2009) says:
“The person and the professional are intertwined facets that cannot be separated in reality. We know, clinically and scientifically, that the person of the therapist and the therapeutic relationship contribute to therapy outcome at least as much as the particular treatment methods used” (pg 17).
This is my lived experience. The person I am is the social worker I am is the therapist I will be. My experience is that the most important part of this discussion is my own self-awareness about these values, beliefs, and personality characteristics. So long as I know where I stand on these parts of myself, I am able to be better aware of the impact I have on the client. And ultimately, what I hope for is the best therapeutic outcomes for my clients.
References
Corey, Gerald. (2005). Theory and Practice of Counseling and Psychotherapy, 8th Edition. Belmont, California: Thomson Brooks/Cole.
Corey, Gerald. (2005). Student Manual for Theory and Practice of Counseling and Psychotherapy, 8th Edition. Belmont, California: Thomson Brooks/Cole.
Crook, Kenneth H. and Truscott, Derek. (2004). Ethics for the Practice of Psychology in Canada. Edmonton, Alberta: University of Alberta Press.
Doherty, William J. (1995). Soul Searching Why Psychotherapy Must Promote Moral Responsibility. New York, N.Y.: Basic Books.
Hoffman, Cheryl, Michael S. Kolevzon, Karen Sowers-Hoag. (1989). Selecting a Family Therapy Model: The Role of Personality Attributes in Eclectic Practice. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, Vol. 15, No. 3, 249-257.
Sharp, Daryl. (1998). Jungian Psychology Unplugged My Life as an Elephant. Toronto, Ontario: Inner City Books.
Starhawk. (1990). The Spiral Dance A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. New York, N.Y.: HarperCollins.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
A copy of a letter I've sent to the New Democrats. I've also phoned and left messages stating my point of view.
Mr. Jack Layton
Leader - New Democrat Party
Dear Mr. Layton
I've been following the discussion about the upcoming televised Leader's Debate. Imagine my surprise when the media announced that my beloved N.D. party has said that they would not back Elizabeth May and the Green Party's participation in the debate.
I have voted New Democrat in every federal election since I turned 18 (over 20 years ago!). I always believed in the ideal of grass roots democracy. I even ran as a candidate for the party in 1997. Never have I been so disappointed in this party as I am at this point. I thought that my party believed in grass roots organizing and democracy. I thought we supported election reform. And yet this decision flies completely in the face of those principles.
I can assure you that I will not vote New Democrat in this election based solely upon this issue. I believe that I have a rather wide circle of influence amongst friends and relatives who have also been New Democrat supporters. I will do what I can to influence them to not vote N.D. this election as well, given this stance of the party against democratic values. This was a bad bad decision on the part of the party and ill thought out. I don't think the hierarchy of the party has realized the impact that the Green Party can have on this nation.
I'm sorely disappointed and want to suggest that you should be ashamed of yourself!
Most respectfully
Shakti Roberta Allen
Edmonton, Alberta
Mr. Jack Layton
Leader - New Democrat Party
Dear Mr. Layton
I've been following the discussion about the upcoming televised Leader's Debate. Imagine my surprise when the media announced that my beloved N.D. party has said that they would not back Elizabeth May and the Green Party's participation in the debate.
I have voted New Democrat in every federal election since I turned 18 (over 20 years ago!). I always believed in the ideal of grass roots democracy. I even ran as a candidate for the party in 1997. Never have I been so disappointed in this party as I am at this point. I thought that my party believed in grass roots organizing and democracy. I thought we supported election reform. And yet this decision flies completely in the face of those principles.
I can assure you that I will not vote New Democrat in this election based solely upon this issue. I believe that I have a rather wide circle of influence amongst friends and relatives who have also been New Democrat supporters. I will do what I can to influence them to not vote N.D. this election as well, given this stance of the party against democratic values. This was a bad bad decision on the part of the party and ill thought out. I don't think the hierarchy of the party has realized the impact that the Green Party can have on this nation.
I'm sorely disappointed and want to suggest that you should be ashamed of yourself!
Most respectfully
Shakti Roberta Allen
Edmonton, Alberta
Monday, September 8, 2008
The National Election
Our Prime Minister announced yesterday that we're going to have another election. Not because our country wants one or asked for one or even needs one. But because he decided he could.
One of the many "traditional" activities of a federal election in Canada is that the media get together and host a televised "Leader's Debate". There is usually only one, and it's a chance for the public to witness the leaders going toe to toe on the important issues. Often it becomes a childish yelling match, but it really is an opportunity for leaders to make their points known and for Canadians to see how the leaders manage under pressure.
In Canada, we have three major parties: the Liberals, the Conservatives, and the New Democrats. We also have the Bloc Quebecois who is a party that serves only the province of Quebec and holds virtually no interest to the rest of the country, except in how it relates to Quebec's sovereignty. In the recent past few years the Green Party has also become a significant force across the country. They achieve a sufficient amount of votes to receive additional funding from the government. They're outspoken and often recognized by the media.
But a "consortium of media" has come together and decided that the Green Party will not be allowed to participate. The leader of the Green Party had predicted the impending election and had been lobbying the media to ensure her inclusion in the debate. But instead she's been excluded. The media consortium indicates that this decision was made under pressure of "three of four of the parties". Apparently only the Liberals were in support of the Greens participating in the debate.
What I'm curious about is what are they so afraid of? I'm not a member of the Green Party (I'm not a member of any party)but it seems to me that their ideas have been acknowledged and accepted by each of the parties at different times. But the Conservatives, the Bloc, and the N.D.s obviously believe that they will lose votes to the Greens.
Whatever their reasoning, I'm outraged at the decision. It seems to me that Canadians have a right to make up their own minds. And to do so, the information shouldn't be controlled by the media and by the other parties. I say "shame on them". I've written a couple of letters already. Tomorrow I'll make some phone calls. I wish that anyone who was even slightly uncomfortable with this decision would do the same.
Shame on Them!!!
One of the many "traditional" activities of a federal election in Canada is that the media get together and host a televised "Leader's Debate". There is usually only one, and it's a chance for the public to witness the leaders going toe to toe on the important issues. Often it becomes a childish yelling match, but it really is an opportunity for leaders to make their points known and for Canadians to see how the leaders manage under pressure.
In Canada, we have three major parties: the Liberals, the Conservatives, and the New Democrats. We also have the Bloc Quebecois who is a party that serves only the province of Quebec and holds virtually no interest to the rest of the country, except in how it relates to Quebec's sovereignty. In the recent past few years the Green Party has also become a significant force across the country. They achieve a sufficient amount of votes to receive additional funding from the government. They're outspoken and often recognized by the media.
But a "consortium of media" has come together and decided that the Green Party will not be allowed to participate. The leader of the Green Party had predicted the impending election and had been lobbying the media to ensure her inclusion in the debate. But instead she's been excluded. The media consortium indicates that this decision was made under pressure of "three of four of the parties". Apparently only the Liberals were in support of the Greens participating in the debate.
What I'm curious about is what are they so afraid of? I'm not a member of the Green Party (I'm not a member of any party)but it seems to me that their ideas have been acknowledged and accepted by each of the parties at different times. But the Conservatives, the Bloc, and the N.D.s obviously believe that they will lose votes to the Greens.
Whatever their reasoning, I'm outraged at the decision. It seems to me that Canadians have a right to make up their own minds. And to do so, the information shouldn't be controlled by the media and by the other parties. I say "shame on them". I've written a couple of letters already. Tomorrow I'll make some phone calls. I wish that anyone who was even slightly uncomfortable with this decision would do the same.
Shame on Them!!!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
On Why It's Difficult to Return from Witchcamp
I spent a week at the B.C. Witchcamp. This is my sixth year of attending. Each year is a different experience and the return to this world is also different.
Witchcamp is a place where hearts and chakras are open. It's not so much that we all say, "okay, now we're going to be open", but more a process that occurs rapidly. People who have attended previous camps know what to expect, so return to this honest way of living quickly. Newcomers pick it up so quickly that it suggests that this honest way of living is the most natural way to be.
When I'm at camp I get to speak honestly how I'm feeling all of the time. For example, if I'm having a moment of fear, I can say so to whomever might be around me if I so desire. And my emotion is not only respected but honored. One day at camp I was walking up the stairs to the cabins. Standing at the top of the stairs was one of the other campers - a woman who I often found myself thinking was very beautiful. As I reached the top of the stairs I told her "I think you are one of the most beautiful women at camp". There was no expectation of response or necessary interaction. She accepted the compliment, thanked me, and we both carried on with our days.
Campers express love freely and easily without the fear that is often attached in the other world. If I feel love in the moment, I can tell the other person that I love them. Again, there's no expectation and so there's no fear of rejection. I don't require that the other person tell me that they love me, and they can freely do so or not, depending on how they feel in the moment. One day I was walking across the lawn and one of the fellows yelled at me "Shakti, have I told you today that I love you?" I responded that he hadn't, so he shouted "I love you Shakti". And I yelled back that it made me happy that he loved me and I loved him, too.
People are not afraid to touch each other. Touching is consensual, kind, and loving. Every day I was hugged good morning, good afternoon, and good night. By many different people. I held hands and touched hair and backs and arms. I cuddled on couches and floors and in doorways under awnings. There is always an element of sexual energy running throughout - but not sex that's rude and disrespectful. It's sexual energy that is the life force that we all share. If I touch someone and consensually we agree to become sexual, then we can. Likewise, if I touch someone, and we both just like the affection, there's no expectation or anxiety about what might happen next. And if there is, the space is such that we can just talk about it.
Coming out of camp, means that I re-enter a world of fear. It means that people are afraid to touch each other for fear that the touch will be misinterpreted or misunderstood. People can't speak honestly about their emotions where ever they go because there's so much judgment to be faced. I feel isolated and alone - lost without my tribe. I go months without someone telling me they love me. I can go weeks without being touched in a meaningful way. I can only tell a few people that I love them - no matter how much love I feel.
One of the tasks given us when we attend camp is to "bring the magic out into the world". This is a common message in many types of mysticism now. Learn what we need to learn, and then bring it out into the world to pass it on. But I don't know how to pass on a message of unconditional acceptance and love. I don't quite know how to live out here as openly as I do in camp. I find myself in a place of grief that is so contradictory to the joy I experienced when I was at camp.
Witchcamp is a place where hearts and chakras are open. It's not so much that we all say, "okay, now we're going to be open", but more a process that occurs rapidly. People who have attended previous camps know what to expect, so return to this honest way of living quickly. Newcomers pick it up so quickly that it suggests that this honest way of living is the most natural way to be.
When I'm at camp I get to speak honestly how I'm feeling all of the time. For example, if I'm having a moment of fear, I can say so to whomever might be around me if I so desire. And my emotion is not only respected but honored. One day at camp I was walking up the stairs to the cabins. Standing at the top of the stairs was one of the other campers - a woman who I often found myself thinking was very beautiful. As I reached the top of the stairs I told her "I think you are one of the most beautiful women at camp". There was no expectation of response or necessary interaction. She accepted the compliment, thanked me, and we both carried on with our days.
Campers express love freely and easily without the fear that is often attached in the other world. If I feel love in the moment, I can tell the other person that I love them. Again, there's no expectation and so there's no fear of rejection. I don't require that the other person tell me that they love me, and they can freely do so or not, depending on how they feel in the moment. One day I was walking across the lawn and one of the fellows yelled at me "Shakti, have I told you today that I love you?" I responded that he hadn't, so he shouted "I love you Shakti". And I yelled back that it made me happy that he loved me and I loved him, too.
People are not afraid to touch each other. Touching is consensual, kind, and loving. Every day I was hugged good morning, good afternoon, and good night. By many different people. I held hands and touched hair and backs and arms. I cuddled on couches and floors and in doorways under awnings. There is always an element of sexual energy running throughout - but not sex that's rude and disrespectful. It's sexual energy that is the life force that we all share. If I touch someone and consensually we agree to become sexual, then we can. Likewise, if I touch someone, and we both just like the affection, there's no expectation or anxiety about what might happen next. And if there is, the space is such that we can just talk about it.
Coming out of camp, means that I re-enter a world of fear. It means that people are afraid to touch each other for fear that the touch will be misinterpreted or misunderstood. People can't speak honestly about their emotions where ever they go because there's so much judgment to be faced. I feel isolated and alone - lost without my tribe. I go months without someone telling me they love me. I can go weeks without being touched in a meaningful way. I can only tell a few people that I love them - no matter how much love I feel.
One of the tasks given us when we attend camp is to "bring the magic out into the world". This is a common message in many types of mysticism now. Learn what we need to learn, and then bring it out into the world to pass it on. But I don't know how to pass on a message of unconditional acceptance and love. I don't quite know how to live out here as openly as I do in camp. I find myself in a place of grief that is so contradictory to the joy I experienced when I was at camp.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Child Protection
Somebody very innocently asked me the other day how work was for me. And I glibly responded "Just a normal day...some child sexual abuse, a dead baby, parent / teen conflicts, drug addicted parents, and a little domestic violence". The person asking was shocked - his response "Oh my god, how do you stand it?"
How do I? Stand it, I mean. I'm not sure. It's a day in the life of a child protection worker, and we just stand what we have to stand. I easily forget that what is completely shocking and appalling to some people is everyday life for me. Every day that I go to work, I hear some of the worst stories that are possible to hear. They're sad and painful and gross and simply horrible. And I've normalized them.
It's time to leave, soon. Time to leave this job. When I first started working in child protection (it's been about 12 years at the time of writing), I prided myself in my ability to hold strong boundaries. When I left work at the end of the day, for the most part, I left work. That is, I was able to put the stories behind me and go home to my own family, my own life, my own story.
Over the past couple of years, though, I'm having a harder time walking away from the stories in other people's lives. I experience greater emotion when I hear the stories. My eyes fill with tears at someone's sad story; I worry more about the kids that are wandering the streets; I fear more for my own safety. I wonder if I'm becoming burned out. A good friend suggested that most people, when they become burned out, stop having empathy...they stop caring. I'm having the opposite experience - I'm feeling more and more.
My spiritual path, over the past few years has been about opening my heart wider and wider. My meditations involve opening my heart; my interactions in my private life are about opening my heart. My prayers are about having an open heart. And to be a good child protection worker, I think it's important to be able to put a wall around my heart.
It seems that my daily practice has created a barrier to the healthy completion of my job.
How do I? Stand it, I mean. I'm not sure. It's a day in the life of a child protection worker, and we just stand what we have to stand. I easily forget that what is completely shocking and appalling to some people is everyday life for me. Every day that I go to work, I hear some of the worst stories that are possible to hear. They're sad and painful and gross and simply horrible. And I've normalized them.
It's time to leave, soon. Time to leave this job. When I first started working in child protection (it's been about 12 years at the time of writing), I prided myself in my ability to hold strong boundaries. When I left work at the end of the day, for the most part, I left work. That is, I was able to put the stories behind me and go home to my own family, my own life, my own story.
Over the past couple of years, though, I'm having a harder time walking away from the stories in other people's lives. I experience greater emotion when I hear the stories. My eyes fill with tears at someone's sad story; I worry more about the kids that are wandering the streets; I fear more for my own safety. I wonder if I'm becoming burned out. A good friend suggested that most people, when they become burned out, stop having empathy...they stop caring. I'm having the opposite experience - I'm feeling more and more.
My spiritual path, over the past few years has been about opening my heart wider and wider. My meditations involve opening my heart; my interactions in my private life are about opening my heart. My prayers are about having an open heart. And to be a good child protection worker, I think it's important to be able to put a wall around my heart.
It seems that my daily practice has created a barrier to the healthy completion of my job.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Growing up in a Farm Family
When I was six years old, my family moved to the Family Farm. We'd been living in Slave Lake at the time, and my dad was working as a truck driver. My mom was a traditional stay at home mom. We moved during the Easter holidays. My sister was seven years old and my brother was five. My other brother was still a baby.
The farm was where my dad had spent his growing up years. The land was offered to my grandparents when my grandpa returned from WWII as part of the Veteran's Assistance program. Veterans were offered homesteading land at bargain basement prices so that they could re-establish their lives. My grandpa never wanted to farm - he was a cowboy not a farmer (there's a difference, you know). He told me once that if he could have been a career soldier he might have chosen that path. But he returned from the war like many men in that era - damaged and silent. And my grandmother did what the majority of women did in those days - she stood by her man and followed him where ever he went.
I don't actually know how it came to pass that my parents decided to start farming with my grandparents. I only know that my grandparents moved out of the house that they'd lived in and moved into an older, smaller one in the yard. And we moved into their house.
My parents weren't dissimilar to my grandparents. They both loved (love) the land and the rural life. They grew up within miles of each other, met, and fell in love at a young age. They married very young; they had kids very young. And they farmed and ranched. My dad was, and continues to be, happiest when he was riding the land on his horse. My mom was, and continues to be, happiest when she was around her family. Both of my parents dedicated their lives to the raising of a rural family with rural values and rural love.
I'm thinking about this today because I've had a couple of friends challenge some ranching methods. It's right to challenge the way things "have always been done". Except that they aren't the way they've always been done. I was thinking about why I was feeling defensive with their questions/comments. And I realize that I'm experiencing some of the same foreboding that my parents are experiencing. It's the risk of the loss of the family farm. Not the loss of the land, so much, as the loss of the lifestyle.
Agribusiness is taking over farming and the cattle ranching business. I know that my parents have been and continue to be ethical cattle ranchers. When you buy beef from my family you know what you're getting, unlike when you buy beef from your local grocery store. When calves are born in the spring, my dad is out walking through the herds, talking to the cows and watching to see how they're doing. He's up every couple of hours in the night to monitor. When he's too tired, my mom goes with him. If it's cold, they make sure that the calves are born in a warm, sheltered place. They know each cow and calf in their operation.
When I was a little girl, during calving season it wasn't unusual to have a new born calf brought into the house. One that had been born during a cold snap and needed to be warmed. We would put the hair dryers on them, and rub them with rags to try to warm them and get their blood circulating. If a cow rejected her calf, the calf would be nurtured and bottle fed until it could find an adoptive mother (usually one whose calf died).
Every spring it was time to move the cattle to pasture. The cows that remained with our family for several years would remember the process. As the weather warmed, and the grass started to green, the cows would start searching the fence lines for a way out. When it's time to make the move, there has to be a process. This involved and continues to involve vaccinating the calves (in the same ways that human babies are vaccinated), castrating the bull calves (this is what the beef industry wants), and branding and tagging. Now, my parents no longer brand the calves. They put a numbered ear tag on them (like getting your ears pierced). Castration no longer involves cutting the calves but putting a rubber band around their testicles to stop the blood supply. The testicles dry up and that's the end of it.
The cows know that it's time to move, and they become very excited.This year, when they saw the horses being saddled up, they began to beller and gather themselves together in anticipation. The cowboys who get to participate in the cattle drive also get excited. The horses love it; the dogs love it; the cattle love it; and the people love it. The cattle spend the summer wandering freely around hundreds of acres of grass land, watered by creeks and the river.
In the fall, the cows are ready to come home. At the time that the grass is no longer growing the cattle are brought home. Here they spend the winter on a couple of hundred acres of farm land, being fed hay throughout the winter. They're offered shelter from the elements and closely watched over. Before winter, most of the calves are weaned and sent to market. Often they leave this truly wonderful life behind and go to a feedlot for fattening. This is what the market requires. The feedlots are owned usually by Agribusiness.
The family farm is a dying breed. With Agri-business taking over increasing portions of the market share; with American embargoes on beef imports that have very little to do with health concerns and a great deal to do with controlling the market, the business of the small family farm is becoming increasingly less viable. Over the past 50 years, most cattle farmers have had to support their operations by having one or both partners working off the farm, at least for part of the year. For most of my childhood, my dad went away in the winters to work on the oil rigs, leaving my mom to look after their five children, and all of the cows and animals. She also had a job in town for a good portion of those years. It was no easy life.
And yet they continue. With no guarantee that any of their children will take over the operation when they retire, the shadow of the end is hanging on the horizon. Without the family farm, those that eat beef are left with few choices. Of course, there's always the feedlot beef - you know, with the fear of hormones and chemically coated foods.
I'm really proud of the way I grew up; it was no easy life but it's a life that produced five other families of people with strong values, morals, and concern for their communities. It's five other families of people that argue against the impinging Agribusinesses and the chemicals used to grow our food. It's five families that believe that there's more to life than making money - there's stewardship of the land and of our children.
The farm was where my dad had spent his growing up years. The land was offered to my grandparents when my grandpa returned from WWII as part of the Veteran's Assistance program. Veterans were offered homesteading land at bargain basement prices so that they could re-establish their lives. My grandpa never wanted to farm - he was a cowboy not a farmer (there's a difference, you know). He told me once that if he could have been a career soldier he might have chosen that path. But he returned from the war like many men in that era - damaged and silent. And my grandmother did what the majority of women did in those days - she stood by her man and followed him where ever he went.
I don't actually know how it came to pass that my parents decided to start farming with my grandparents. I only know that my grandparents moved out of the house that they'd lived in and moved into an older, smaller one in the yard. And we moved into their house.
My parents weren't dissimilar to my grandparents. They both loved (love) the land and the rural life. They grew up within miles of each other, met, and fell in love at a young age. They married very young; they had kids very young. And they farmed and ranched. My dad was, and continues to be, happiest when he was riding the land on his horse. My mom was, and continues to be, happiest when she was around her family. Both of my parents dedicated their lives to the raising of a rural family with rural values and rural love.
I'm thinking about this today because I've had a couple of friends challenge some ranching methods. It's right to challenge the way things "have always been done". Except that they aren't the way they've always been done. I was thinking about why I was feeling defensive with their questions/comments. And I realize that I'm experiencing some of the same foreboding that my parents are experiencing. It's the risk of the loss of the family farm. Not the loss of the land, so much, as the loss of the lifestyle.
Agribusiness is taking over farming and the cattle ranching business. I know that my parents have been and continue to be ethical cattle ranchers. When you buy beef from my family you know what you're getting, unlike when you buy beef from your local grocery store. When calves are born in the spring, my dad is out walking through the herds, talking to the cows and watching to see how they're doing. He's up every couple of hours in the night to monitor. When he's too tired, my mom goes with him. If it's cold, they make sure that the calves are born in a warm, sheltered place. They know each cow and calf in their operation.
When I was a little girl, during calving season it wasn't unusual to have a new born calf brought into the house. One that had been born during a cold snap and needed to be warmed. We would put the hair dryers on them, and rub them with rags to try to warm them and get their blood circulating. If a cow rejected her calf, the calf would be nurtured and bottle fed until it could find an adoptive mother (usually one whose calf died).
Every spring it was time to move the cattle to pasture. The cows that remained with our family for several years would remember the process. As the weather warmed, and the grass started to green, the cows would start searching the fence lines for a way out. When it's time to make the move, there has to be a process. This involved and continues to involve vaccinating the calves (in the same ways that human babies are vaccinated), castrating the bull calves (this is what the beef industry wants), and branding and tagging. Now, my parents no longer brand the calves. They put a numbered ear tag on them (like getting your ears pierced). Castration no longer involves cutting the calves but putting a rubber band around their testicles to stop the blood supply. The testicles dry up and that's the end of it.
The cows know that it's time to move, and they become very excited.This year, when they saw the horses being saddled up, they began to beller and gather themselves together in anticipation. The cowboys who get to participate in the cattle drive also get excited. The horses love it; the dogs love it; the cattle love it; and the people love it. The cattle spend the summer wandering freely around hundreds of acres of grass land, watered by creeks and the river.
In the fall, the cows are ready to come home. At the time that the grass is no longer growing the cattle are brought home. Here they spend the winter on a couple of hundred acres of farm land, being fed hay throughout the winter. They're offered shelter from the elements and closely watched over. Before winter, most of the calves are weaned and sent to market. Often they leave this truly wonderful life behind and go to a feedlot for fattening. This is what the market requires. The feedlots are owned usually by Agribusiness.
The family farm is a dying breed. With Agri-business taking over increasing portions of the market share; with American embargoes on beef imports that have very little to do with health concerns and a great deal to do with controlling the market, the business of the small family farm is becoming increasingly less viable. Over the past 50 years, most cattle farmers have had to support their operations by having one or both partners working off the farm, at least for part of the year. For most of my childhood, my dad went away in the winters to work on the oil rigs, leaving my mom to look after their five children, and all of the cows and animals. She also had a job in town for a good portion of those years. It was no easy life.
And yet they continue. With no guarantee that any of their children will take over the operation when they retire, the shadow of the end is hanging on the horizon. Without the family farm, those that eat beef are left with few choices. Of course, there's always the feedlot beef - you know, with the fear of hormones and chemically coated foods.
I'm really proud of the way I grew up; it was no easy life but it's a life that produced five other families of people with strong values, morals, and concern for their communities. It's five other families of people that argue against the impinging Agribusinesses and the chemicals used to grow our food. It's five families that believe that there's more to life than making money - there's stewardship of the land and of our children.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Differentiation
I wonder if we differentiate from our friends. In a child's development, as they move into and through adolescence, it's "normal" to begin to differentiate from family. The teen begins to develop their own life outside of the family home; there's rebellion about the structure, values, beliefs within the family home. The teen develops a new circle of importance, and that's the friends. In many teen lives, the friends become the most important social group; more important, even than the family.
Ultimately, the teen becomes a young adult. And in previous history (I'm not so sure this is as true anymore), the young adult would meet a life partner. You know the story - fall in love, get married, begin a family. This process would, generally speaking, allow the individual to begin to differentiate from their friends in the same way that they did with their family of origin. The mate, the new home, the children begin to hold the most important point within the circle.
For many people, however, this story is no longer true. Many people are waiting much longer to marry, or choosing not to marry at all. It leaves me wondering if this delays the process of differentiation from friends. It seems likely that those individuals (and I count myself as one of them) continue to rely on their friends in the same manner that the adolescent does. The friends remain the most important part of the circle; their opinions and engagement in activities maintains its import to the individual.
At mid-life, I am beginning to recognize this in my own self. How important my friends are. And this becomes more obvious to me as I realize that I do not hold the same position in their lives. That's not to say that I'm not important or loved - I am! This is related to my earlier question about "couple cliquedom" (my own word). The couple is an entity unto itself. There is very little space within the couple for the single friend. That's as it should be. But, being the single friend in mid-life, I've come to realize that a differentiation is necessary. I realize that it's necessary to run my own life as I see fit, with less reliance on those friends around me, and more reliance on my own self.
I've heard it said that in peri-menopause we repeat many of the emotions that we experienced in adolescence (something to look forward to girls!). Perhaps, the joyful part of this is that I get to repair the mistakes made by choosing different paths.
Ultimately, the teen becomes a young adult. And in previous history (I'm not so sure this is as true anymore), the young adult would meet a life partner. You know the story - fall in love, get married, begin a family. This process would, generally speaking, allow the individual to begin to differentiate from their friends in the same way that they did with their family of origin. The mate, the new home, the children begin to hold the most important point within the circle.
For many people, however, this story is no longer true. Many people are waiting much longer to marry, or choosing not to marry at all. It leaves me wondering if this delays the process of differentiation from friends. It seems likely that those individuals (and I count myself as one of them) continue to rely on their friends in the same manner that the adolescent does. The friends remain the most important part of the circle; their opinions and engagement in activities maintains its import to the individual.
At mid-life, I am beginning to recognize this in my own self. How important my friends are. And this becomes more obvious to me as I realize that I do not hold the same position in their lives. That's not to say that I'm not important or loved - I am! This is related to my earlier question about "couple cliquedom" (my own word). The couple is an entity unto itself. There is very little space within the couple for the single friend. That's as it should be. But, being the single friend in mid-life, I've come to realize that a differentiation is necessary. I realize that it's necessary to run my own life as I see fit, with less reliance on those friends around me, and more reliance on my own self.
I've heard it said that in peri-menopause we repeat many of the emotions that we experienced in adolescence (something to look forward to girls!). Perhaps, the joyful part of this is that I get to repair the mistakes made by choosing different paths.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The Coupledom Clique
I've been noticing, lately, how I'm not part of a "couple". Obviously, for those that know me, this isn't something new. But what I've become increasingly aware of is how there is a "clique" around being a couple.
I have many friends - long time friends, new friends, friends from my spiritual community, friends from work, friends from school. Most of these (but not all) are women friends. My friends love to go out for tea with me, or dinner. They like to get together to talk about matters of the heart and spiritual matters. They want to share stories about their love interests, partners, kids, work. I love this about them.
But something strange happens when it comes to their partners. I'm no longer part of the picture. Now, this isn't me being paranoid - I brought it up recently with a group of other single women. We were all in agreement that we do not get invited to "couple events". It's a curious syndrome, really. When my girlfriends are intending to get together with friends with their lovers, then they invite other people who have lovers/partners/husbands. They don't invite their single friends to join them.
I don't know if this is a "numbers" issue. Is it more harmonic to have even numbers when inviting people over for dinner? Is it more soothing to the flow of conversation if there are equal numbers of men and women? Is it uncomfortable for the twosome to become a threesome?
These are questions that I don't have the answers for. But it does leave me wondering if I shouldn't be in a relationship just so I can become part of the club. I think I might be missing out on certain secrets. Perhaps I will buy a blow up doll, or mannequin and then I could become part of a couple. My own quiet date....
I have many friends - long time friends, new friends, friends from my spiritual community, friends from work, friends from school. Most of these (but not all) are women friends. My friends love to go out for tea with me, or dinner. They like to get together to talk about matters of the heart and spiritual matters. They want to share stories about their love interests, partners, kids, work. I love this about them.
But something strange happens when it comes to their partners. I'm no longer part of the picture. Now, this isn't me being paranoid - I brought it up recently with a group of other single women. We were all in agreement that we do not get invited to "couple events". It's a curious syndrome, really. When my girlfriends are intending to get together with friends with their lovers, then they invite other people who have lovers/partners/husbands. They don't invite their single friends to join them.
I don't know if this is a "numbers" issue. Is it more harmonic to have even numbers when inviting people over for dinner? Is it more soothing to the flow of conversation if there are equal numbers of men and women? Is it uncomfortable for the twosome to become a threesome?
These are questions that I don't have the answers for. But it does leave me wondering if I shouldn't be in a relationship just so I can become part of the club. I think I might be missing out on certain secrets. Perhaps I will buy a blow up doll, or mannequin and then I could become part of a couple. My own quiet date....
Thursday, April 3, 2008
My cousin died yesterday. It was sad, as the death of most young people is. He had cancer; was only diagnosed ten months ago. At the end he was in a coma in the hospital for the last couple of weeks. Although a painful process that one would never want to wish on anyone, I was reminded of the pregnancy process. When a woman becomes pregnant, there are nine months of preparing for the birth of a baby. During that time, not only does the woman's body change, but so does her attitude and her readiness to actually have a baby join her life. A death process allows the family time to grieve; to say good-bye; and then to let go when necessary. After a few weeks the family is (usually) ready to allow their loved one's suffering to end. The family members are able to whisper into the ear of their dying one "it's okay to go now, let go".
My cousin told his partner that he didn't want a funeral. This decision is confusing to me. A funeral is not for the person who has died; a funeral is for the family and friends that are left behind. The funeral brings people together for a last celebration of the deceased. It makes room to publicly grieve and celebrate at the same time. A funeral adds closure to an already very difficult process. It announces the moment when the death process ends and the next stage of grieving can now commence. Without some ritual around death, people can be left in the liminal stage of the death process; they might find it difficult to actually move on.
Tomorrow we're having a non-funeral funeral. We will gather at the funeral home - close friends and family - for a "viewing". Some people will say some words. And then we'll meet to share food. The ham that wasn't cooked at Easter because cancer had taken control of the house. I'm grateful for my cousin's partner's good common sense and compassion.
My cousin told his partner that he didn't want a funeral. This decision is confusing to me. A funeral is not for the person who has died; a funeral is for the family and friends that are left behind. The funeral brings people together for a last celebration of the deceased. It makes room to publicly grieve and celebrate at the same time. A funeral adds closure to an already very difficult process. It announces the moment when the death process ends and the next stage of grieving can now commence. Without some ritual around death, people can be left in the liminal stage of the death process; they might find it difficult to actually move on.
Tomorrow we're having a non-funeral funeral. We will gather at the funeral home - close friends and family - for a "viewing". Some people will say some words. And then we'll meet to share food. The ham that wasn't cooked at Easter because cancer had taken control of the house. I'm grateful for my cousin's partner's good common sense and compassion.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Old Friends
Today, Susan came over to my house with her two beautiful sons. Susan and I met about ten years ago when we worked in the same office. We didn't work together long, but we recognized each other as kindred spirits and we have been sisters ever since. It's an interesting friendship, however, because our paths have not been perfectly intertwined. Instead, we enter slowly and periodically each other's lives. Checking in. Touching base.
Today was the first time I'd seen Susan since my last wedding day. That was almost five years ago. She lives in another town; we've maintained our relationship via e.mail, mostly. And now, of course, there's facebook. The ever present social networking experience.
It feels good to be with people who know my soul. We haven't seen each other in almost five years, and yet our conversation picked up where we'd left off. We spoke immediately about our mutual passion for writing and books. We shared our experiences with Eckhart Tolle. It makes me want to try harder to make myself more readily available.
Today was the first time I'd seen Susan since my last wedding day. That was almost five years ago. She lives in another town; we've maintained our relationship via e.mail, mostly. And now, of course, there's facebook. The ever present social networking experience.
It feels good to be with people who know my soul. We haven't seen each other in almost five years, and yet our conversation picked up where we'd left off. We spoke immediately about our mutual passion for writing and books. We shared our experiences with Eckhart Tolle. It makes me want to try harder to make myself more readily available.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
