Writing. Life.

Mia's NY Times Op Ed on Britney Spears

My daughter, Mia, just had her first article published last week, in the Op Ed page of the NY Times. While I was, of course, very proud of her for such a big accomplishment, I was just as proud that she took on such an important, if politically incorrect, topic - our refusal to involuntarily commit those who are in need of it, not just to protect them from themselves, but to protect others from them.

To be naive, ignorant or complacent about the capacity of the mentally ill to cause irrepairable damage to themselves and others is to be blind to the obvious at best, dangerous at worst. Such blind devotion to "civil liberties" is to condemn untold numbers of the mentally ill and addicts, to a life of misery, illness, lack of proper medication, of early death, or repeated rape (does the ACLU think mentally ill and/or addicted women get raped any less on the streets than they did in mental institutions or rehab?) And they condemn others, like Kathryn Faughey and far too many innocent students, to death.

Should countless lives be sacrificed at the alter of political correctness? Insisting on civil liberties for all is great in theory, often dreadful in practice. Liberty should not be for all. When we, as a nation, can't see the danger, the sheer stupidity, of taking away the right of a parent to keep their minor child alive (as happened to me,) or of allowing the criminally insane to live amongst us until they actually murder someone, or of pedophiles to go free and receive therapy on our nickel, well, then heaven help us all. Because the legal system doesn't. And not enough of us seem to be insisting it does.

A Lesson from a Little Brown Dog

It's Christmas Eve on a hilltop in rural north Georgia and I'm standing under the moon listening to carolers in a hay-wagon. It's about 20 degrees, dogs and kids are squealing and running underfoot, the horse is eating the hay off the hay-wagon, the caroler's props and Tupperware drums are constantly being readjusted, the sheet music keeps flapping in and out of the flashlight's beam and a dog to my right was growling loudly along with the singers. I turn to pat him. Him turns out to be someone's toddler.

It was a delightful chaos, as were the thoughts racing around in my head. Mia and I had just signed on to be one of twenty teams going on an around-the-world-a-thon to raise money for charity. I was about to turn fifty-one and wanted to start the second half of my life off with a bang. I also wanted to take an adventure of a different kind with my daughter, one that would be a little more like heaven and a lot less like the hell we chronicled. It took me about three minutes after being accepted into the competition to start obsessing over how to study sixty countries, figure out what to pack, whether or not I need shots for yellow fever and Japanese encephalitis, etc., etc., etc.

Which, of course, meant that I was neither in calm contemplation of the upcoming Global Scavenger Hunt, nor fully present at the holiday merry-making. Until I noticed little Fifi standing in front of my face, looking for all the world like a sturdy little honey-baked ham on legs. She was as serene and present as the moon, a mighty little guru in her simply there-ness.

Upcoming appearance & Visions Map note

It occurred to me that some of you might live in the Palm Beach County/Broward County area and, if so, Mia and I are speaking this coming Saturday at 1 PM at B-nai Torah congregation. If any of you live nearby and can come, I would love to meet you! Full information is on our website.

A note on the visions map: Nikki commented that she wondered how her too-literal mind would deal with it. Beautifully, that's how! The idea is to make a visual declaration of the life you want, the more literal, the better. If you can't see it clearly, you can't create it. If you know exactly where you want to live, find pictures of it; find pictures of exactly the features you want in your home, down to the colors and view.  If you want tranquility, find the images that most speak to you of it. Don't let your "beliefs" about yourself limit you. If they do, then change your beliefs - tell yourself a different story about yourself. And keep telling it to yourself, a hundred times a day, out loud, if necessary, until it's part of you.

In case it helps: When I first began the proposal for my book, I struggled for over a year - "My ADD, I procrastinate, I've got too many obligations, I this, that and the other thing, blah, blah, blah." One morning, after I got really sick of myself, I woke up with "I am calm, focused and productive" in my head. I said that constantly, every day. I thought it, I muttered it under my breath whenever I found myself distracted, I breathed and ate that affirmation as if it were prayer beads in my mouth, over and over (or worry beads depending on the culture.) After a while I was down to a few times a day - a while being months, to be honest. Paul had no idea what came over me, but I stopped kvetching and making excuses and simply finished the proposal in a few months. If he reads this, now he'll know my secret. I didn't share it because I know myself - discussing it would have replaced becoming it. Chatter for me is often a very effective way of avoiding. Oh, hey, now there's another exercise I found REALLY sobering- one day I made myself create a list of all the ways I avoid - emotionally avoid, physically avoid, psychologically, professionally, relationally (is that a word?) Not only did I astonish myself at how long the list was - it was dismaying that the list would change from one week to the next. I had a singular talent for avoidance. Still do. Though, I do catch myself. Sometimes.

If any of you do create a visions map, it would be wonderful if you would guest blog here and share it. I'll show you mine if you show me yours?

Mapping Your Life II

I've spent the last fifteen minutes trying to think of a way to open this post without an apology for being late. It's become a chronic state of affairs. It's easy to blame circumstances (job, family, house) for always being behind, but because I believe we choose our lives, it's time for me to choose to look at why I've been choosing "late," "stressed" and, as of yesterday, "sick," for my life. My body is usually smarter than I am, so I suspect it's given me a very sore throat to make me stop, rest and make some new choices. That or God's trying to tell me to shut up.

Speaking of speaking, one of the best ways to begin a visions map is to put yourself on silence for the day if you can. If not, then certainly during the time that you work on it. Once you get into it, it feels like walking a labyrinth, a moving meditation, only with a destination: your own heart, your soul, the fullest expression of You. My feeling is that it's best done alone, it's an entirely internal endeavor. The minute you start talking to someone else, your focus shifts from internal to external.

Start by gathering images. Gather a box or two of magazines you don't mind cutting up. Any and all magazines, from fashion, home, yoga, nature, art, cooking, science, travel, Popular Science, spiritual, etc. Take old issues off of your friends' hands. You want as many images as you can find. Don't edit or choose at this point, you'll shrink your possibilities. Then gather scissors, glue, colored pencils, markers and glitter if you like. Crafters and scrapbookers will already have tons of stuff. You can find a big thick piece of paper, if you don't want to fold it up (big as in 3 feet by 2 or 3.) Or softer paper, like butcher paper or a huge art pad.

Schedule quiet, uninterrupted chunks of time to let yourself dream. Do it while walking, driving, whatever allows you to stay focused and undisturbed. I actually found this difficult at first. My mind kept wandering,which I suspect was my unconscious way of not allowing myself to dream, to want. Old unworthiness issues. Visualize yourself at your most powerful, most joyful, satisfied, curious, sexy, healthy, accomplished. What do you see? What do you WANT for your life? Not "if" you could have anything you wanted - knowing you can. Visualize your perfect life, your perfect home, love life, friends, career, mind and body - as if it already exists. As if you woke up in Your Perfect Life.

Start choosing images of your perfect life (speak in present tense, as if it IS already your life.) Create a collage or image or set of images for each of the areas of your life - home, career, friends and family, health, spiritual, pleasure and amusement, love, romance. You can do this any way that feels right - overlapping, orderly, fill the all the space, or let images float. There's no right or wrong, only what feels real to you. Here's where not editing earlier helps, because often the most powerful image is symbolic: a multiplying cell, a butterfly, a galaxy, things in magazines you probably don't normally buy. Be as specific as you can or want to in choosing images. Cut out words and use them, write them yourself, decorate, embellish, beautify and celebrate. Hang it up or keep it somewhere special. Go back and put finishing touches, or beginnishing touches.

You can challenge yourself to do it in total silence or if you want music, try to play music without lyrics, which take the focus from your own thoughts and words to someone else's. You can also find your own photographs if they suit. I didn't mention them earlier because they can sometimes, though not always, keep us stuck, i.e. they're an image of something that already exists or already happened, and this is about letting go, giving permission, looking forward. Of course, this isn't always true - I put a photo of Mia and me right in the center. But you get the idea. I also didn't mention drawing your own images. Unless you're talented enough that you can draw the image you want without judging, correcting, fixing, forget it. The exercise stops being about you and more about the image and the process of rendering it. It also is an opportunity for some of us to get into our perfection stuff, which won't serve us here.

I did my map in seminar and could have gone on for hours; it felt like being shaken out of a dream when we were told we had to stop, I wasn't ready. I'm really looking forward to doing this on my own now, taking as long as I want, being as specific as I want, finding just the images I want. What better time to do it than the beginning of a new year, too. I love that something as powerful as this feels like play.

(Every now and then Paul decides to play. He drew this for Mia's 25th birthday two weeks ago. The ocean has always been one of her favorite places. He's a graphic designer/art director who's also a fine artist.)

Mapping a Vision For Your Life

After sending "our" girls in Madison to bed reunited with the powerful and magical child they forgot they still carried inside, we prepared to take them on another journey on Sunday morning - into their future. We had an exercise planned for them that I myself did in a seminar just before Mia came home from her "detour." It's one I believe we should all do every so often in life, with great passion and love and focus. Because it will change your life, I promise.

Most of us spend a great deal of time and effort planning a vacation. It's something we anticipate and treasure; we plan exactly where we're going, when we're going and for how long, what we'll do and see there, who with. We budget with care, pack meticulously as we want to look a certain way, be comfortable and prepared for the unexpected. We don't believe we want to go to London or Rio, we know we do, we know we deserve it and we go.

Few of us do the same thing for our life. We have vague ideas in college of where we want to go, we often get sidetracked, sometimes for years, we pretty much just assume that life will turn out how we want it to and if it doesn't, we either go with the flow and make do or blame, complain and have regrets. If we were to be as specific, determined and focused as we were in planning a dream trip, putting the same time and energy into creating a vision for all areas of our lives, declaring and living it as if it is already so, an amazing thing happens - we begin to live by intention instead of default. Our unconscious goes to work and the universe cooperates. Because our words have great power; by "words" I mean any external expression of ourselves, including images and verbal declarations. I truly believe we speak ourselves into being.

Seven years ago had you told me that I would spend a lot of time in Europe (something I'd always dreamed of but hadn't the time or money for,) publish a book and hear from thousands that it's changed their lives (never in my wildest dreams, not even on the radar,) be in better shape and health than I was when I was young, have an amazing relationship with my daughter, live by a warm sea and write whatever I wanted (not by assignment or for hire,) and own a house (Mia's school left us quite broke,) I would have laughed my fool head off, thought you were crazy.

But I gave myself permission to want all those things; I envisioned that life in a seminar and I made a map for it, literally. And then put it away and forgot all about it. And the only reason I'm writing you about it today is because while searching through boxes of letters for the chapter we were writing about Mia's time in the Czech Republic, I came across my Visions Map.

And I was astonished, literally jump up and down blown away. Because even though  I'd forgotten about it, everything on it came true, I created my life almost exactly as I envisioned it. I wanted to be happily reunited with Mia. I wanted a home somewhere beautiful, I wanted to write by the sea. I even pasted, beneath the section on the lower left devoted to career, "A Call To Action," which our book certainly is with regard to sexual abuse. I wanted to create a healthy, sexy body (at the time, turning the pages of a book was exercise); I wanted a greater spiritual presence in my life (that's the leaf with the word "spirit" on it and the word "free" beside it) and that's come to pass; I wanted to be with family and friends (something fluid now as I make new friends in a new location and have finally been to see my sister in Hungary and reunited with nieces, nephews, a grand-niece and grand-nephew, all of whom I'm crazy about. I've also made amazing new friends on the journey my book has taken me on.)

It was so rewarding, and fun, to watch the girls cut and past their new selves and lives into being. Peace and comfort featured in all of their maps in various manifestations, friendship was a significant theme. Images of female power seemed to be the most prominent theme - hooray, girls!! They were so incredibly focused and intent upon their dreams, you could hear a pin drop. Do you know how hard it is to get a group of teenage girls in one room to be quiet? Because they're under eighteen, I can't include photos at this point, but picture young women who are just beginning to realize that they have wings!

One of the most poignant things to witness was how much the mothers enjoyed making their own visions maps, giving themselves permission to dream a new life into being, not just as mothers, but as women. These women have been almost as battered by the events and the justice system as their daughters. I knew how they felt because I spent a long time there myself. And it was an absolute joy to watch them - they were cutting and pasting away with as much or more gusto than their daughters.

I gotta tell you, I am blessed. Next time I start whining or railing here, somebody remind me.

Still on a High...

(NOTE: I was going to post this with photos, but I'm still waiting on releases and I'm still too excited by the weekend to wait. I'll add them when I do the next post. I'm also leaving in the word "damaged" so you can see how wise Nita's comment on the post below it is. It's so easy to forget our "languaging" and how powerful it is in our lives.)

I'm still buzzing from the most amazing weekend with the girls I wrote about below. The weekend was far more than anything we, or they, could have imagined.

We hardly sat down from the moment we got there. I arrived in the afternoon and into baggage claim walks a group of six beaming girls alongside Mia, who'd arrived earlier in the day. Some were a bit shy at first, all were as excited as we were. One of the firs things I noticed was a certain calm and maturity, even for the youngest (fourteen, I believe.) One of the things Mia wrote about in the last chapter of Come Back, was how abuse forces you to grow up early, because you see a side of human nature most kids don't see. I felt that. But it wasn't sadness I felt from them, though surely they have that inside as well, just a certain knowingness and presence.

They spoke of this during a delicious potluck meal we shared at the nature center of a nearby nature preserve. One of the girls spoke of how much more aware of danger than other girls her age she was, how they all seemed to have sharper instincts, about the mood and intentions of others. This "gift of fear" is something that will serve them well as adults, as long as it's not irrational. They spoke of that as well, with Mia sharing how it took her years to get over not wanting to be alone in the bathroom (I read many a novel while she showered over the years.) They had lots of questions for us, about writing, publicity, etc., but mostly about how Mia healed, what her life is like now, if and how the abuse still comes up for her, what our mother/daughter relationship is like.

After dinner we went with a park specialist for some trust exercises, one of which was getting a marble across a long distance with each of us holding a short piece of plastic pipe. The girls were ingenious, more so than the adults (which included their counselors, mothers, Mia and me.) Then came what you see in the first photo - cross-country skiing, sort of, with six of us to each pair of "skis." Again, the most ingenious solutions came from the girls, with K. coming up with the idea of instead using them as planks, plopping one down in front of the other (if you've seen the movie "The Piano" with Holly Hunter, you'll get the picture.) There's K. in the second picture; she's the one who took the initiative and contacted us. She can't weigh more than a hundred pounds, she's a little powerhouse.

Afterwards, we circled up to talk about what worked and didn't. If we take the time, there's very little we do in life that doesn't have feedback for us. Then I went inside to spend time with the mothers, which was a very moving experience. I felt honored to be in their presence. They were so strong and determined, a group of smart, savvy women with the endurance of Atlas. One woman, a single teacher, has been raising all four of her nieces and nephews, from a young age, something very few of us would do.

I saw in their faces the same pain and uncertainty I felt while I was struggling with Mia's abuse. They want their child's healing and happiness so much it was almost painful to see. I know they want their own healing as well, that's why they come once a week for group therapy with an amazing woman, Jude (she's so evolved and powerful, I hope to emulate her.) I hope these moms choose happiness for themselves as well. As moms, we're so focused on our kids that we forget that if our kids don't see us as joyful, it's hard for them to choose it for themselves as well. Not lets-have-fun-happy, that's fleeting and tied to circumstances/events, but true deep joy, which is a state of being, regardless of circumstance. This was one of my biggest lessons, one that had a profound effect on Mia. It's a state of mind that allows us to make choices from love instead of fear. It allows us to trust, it keeps our heart open. We all had it naturally as a little child. We still do, most of us have simply forgotten, we forget that, like a child, we can get up and do the exact same things we complain about, with a feeling of lightness, adventure. I keep a sticky paper by my desk that reads, "What would an EXTRAORDINARY person do in this situation?"

Mia spent the evening with the girls and their therapist, Kim, at the bonfire outside. Each girl read from a letter they had written the week before, telling their story and sharing what they want to let go of in order to move forward in life. They then each burned their letters. A few girls who'd never really opened up to the group chose to do so - a huge accomplishment! Kim is such a compassionate, generous and active therapist, a rock in their lives. I'll let Mia tell you about the bonfire in her own post here.

At least one of the girls wants to post here as well, which will be a real treat. One of them, a tall beauty named Hannah, will share her poetry, which she also performs with Spoken Word,  to empower others, as Mia did with the book. And I've just heard that our visit has encouraged a few of them to go on local radio to share their story to let others who've been abused know that they're not alone and that anything's possible. They credit Mia with showing them the way. I'm tearing up as I write this...

I led both groups through a visualization, to end the evening with them reuniting with that magical, wondrous child they thought was forever left behind. The little girl who'd never known hurt or betrayal or limitations. In the semi-dark room I could hear some tears (and one dear soul who was snoring, there's always one...) The girls were sent home with homework and a big assignment - to be silent until we saw them at 10 next morning. If you think that's easy, I suggest you try it. But sooo worth it, the longer the better (but that's a whole 'nother post.)

Our Sunday morning coming up next...

Tranformation, please.

A few months back we got an email with SEXUAL ABUSE HAPPENED TO US! in the subject line. We've heard from a lot of abuse survivors, but never so boldly declared. It was from a sixteen-year-old girl who, along with seven other teen girls, meets with a therapist once a week to deal with having been sexually abused, many of them over a long period of time, most of them by someone in the family (no surprise there.) Many had been, and are being, how to say this nicely, screwed over by a justice system that, in many cases, still feels it's okay to punish a man for molest the neighbor's kid but not their own. All suffer from shame, pain, anger and many from the effects of abuse as played out in teen behavior - drugs, promiscuity, running away. They have decided that they want more for themselves, they want a future like Mia's. And they wrote us to say so.

She also asked us to come help them see how they can do what Mia did, because they can't see themselves as ever getting past where they are. We said we'd be happy to talk with them by speakerphone but our schedule is such that we're out of town several times a month for work, usually speaking engagements. We explained that that's how we make our living (it is the rare author who actually makes a living writing a book, you make a living speaking about it.) But she persisted. And persisted. And persisted. Speakerphone wasn't enough.. So this group of girls who are struggling just to get through life without screwing up, has done something few healthy adults do - they had a vision, made a declaration and made it happen. They learned how to write a grant (a difficult thing to do) for money for to bring us there. And listen to this: they came up with the idea of "Come Back Coffee," named both for our book and for their making a come back themselves; they contacted a local co-op that sells organic coffee grown by widows in Nicaragua; they're putting their label on it and selling it to raise money. They're flying us to Madison this weekend.

Could we have bought our own tickets? Of course, we could have. But we would have taken away the opportunity for them to learn something about themselves - that they can create success, that empowerment is a choice, it comes from within; and that no one, no molester, can hold you back or disempower you. Their therapist shared that they've never been motivated like this. Raising enough money for two plane tickets would not have seemed in the realm of the possible for them before this. Having a vision and the willingness to work for it has taught them more than anything we can say to them this weekend.

And just a visit wasn't enough, either. The want us to do some of the processes Mia did in the book, like the bonfire. Most kids who found themselves doing this were kidnapped by escorts in the night and dragged kicking and screaming to boot camp schools. These girls are asking, nay demanding, transformation. Amazing, mais non?

In fact, Lee Rayburn, who has a popular show on the local Air America affiliate, WXXM 92.1 in Madison, WI, did an hour on these girls, our experience and the Parental Stress Center where they meet once a week. Click here to hear a podcast of the interview (half-hour of me probably talking too fast, half-hour of the director of the center.)

And so this has turned into a Very Big Weekend, indeed! As always, I'm getting far more out of the dreams and determination of children than they'll ever get from me. And I've had the chance to feel like a child myself all week, coming up with ideas for processes and buying props and totems and touchstones for them, figuring out how to get it all into a suitcase. God help me if I get searched by airport security.

Tune in next week for a report on the weekend, with photos.

Self-portrait as a Young Woman

Yes, Alanna, she does look like she's taking stock, reading something into herself as she reads of others' lives. This painting made me think of myself as a young woman. I think of myself at that age, with a whole life ahead of me - excited, but wary, determined but doubtful.

What if we could paint ourselves as we were then? How would I, twenty* years later, see my eighteen-year-old self? How would you? Wouldn't that be a great project for this blog, for anyplace - draw (or sculpt, paint, collage, embroider, write, etc.) yourself as a young woman on the verge of the big adventure of adulthood. If you go on my About page, you can see a pastel of how Mia saw me when I was 30, which is as close as I'll probably get to an image of my young self, as I can't draw very well. Sara, someday I'd love to see one of yourself at age eighteen (you've been publicly challenged!)

As I was reading the comments on Elise Bauer's recipe for sour cream apple pie, and seeing her replies to some of the comments, it has only just occurred to me that, duh, a good blogger comments on comments from time to time. Talk about SLOW to get it. My apologies to any of you who have wondered why I haven't done that, especially when so many of your comments come from such a deep place within you - I promise to be more present. I can't tell you how much it means to get your comments and to have this forum to share your thoughts and feelings with others.

* Okay, so for me it would be thirty years later. Oh, alright, thirty-two years later.

Dana Reading

One of the greatest things about the success of our book is that I've spent the last year in a veritable sea of the most amazing, inspiring, loving women, from coast to coast. Women we meet on tour, at appearances or at speaking engagements, the readers I've gotten to know through emails, the women at two blogger conferences.

Women who, before the internet, would never have been able to share their writing or photography, their humor or expertise. Women who have been through what Mia and I went through, to varying degrees, and come out the other side and able to share their stories with us. Women who were less fortunate and share their hope. Women who have overcome addiction or abuse, some of whom triumphed, some who are still struggling. Girls who are inspired by Mia to quit using. Girls and women who grew strong from their mother's love, those who powered through without it. Women going through the ups and downs of motherhood, like the gentle soul, Sue L., whose poem is in the last post.. Women who have raised their kids and chosen to rediscover and reinvent themselves, taking up pen, paintbrush, passport. Like Sara Becker.

Sara and her nineteen-year-old daughter, Dana, had both read our book and she wrote to thank you for the way we wrote about the mother/daughter relationship, which had resonated for her. She'd been taking oil painting classes and had done a portrait of Dana reading. She sent us a jpeg of the painting, because the book in Dana's hands is ours. Mia and I were delighted beyond words, really speechless (if you can imagine that.) It's such a beautiful work, not just for her skill as a painter, but for how much the painting is informed by her love for her daughter. I'm so proud and pleased to share this with you and hope it inspires you to explore the endless, exciting territory that is you.

Ree & Me & You

Ree, of the one-of-a-kind, laugh-out-loud blog, thepioneerwoman.com , posted a wonderful review of our memoir. It's not a typical review, in that she doesn't provide a synopsis of the plot, etc.; instead she tells us what the book meant to her, followed by a list of who should read this book and why. The photos of ranch life alone make her site worth bookmarking, much less her photo contests, which have me up laughing late into the night.

Ree added that she and her mom, with whom she's close, kept swiping the book from one another (this sounds really self-serving to write, but bear with me) which elicited comments from women who share that kind of relationship with their mom. Legions of other women, however, long for such closeness with their mom. I've gotten probably over a thousand emails from such women - young women still in active combat with their moms, women who still yearn for a mother's love decades after estrangement, women still wounded long after their mom's death. It's a raw nerve, this pain, always just beneath the surface. The face of even the most confident, funny, successful woman will change completely when the subject, and the feelings, come up. You've seen it, we know that look.

Many write about this with great poignance and courage, like Nita, on her witty blog advancedmaternalage.com. Karen Rani, of vodkarella.com, has a whole category called Motherless.

What's amazing to me is how women without the validation of a mother's love find their way to happiness, by their own bootstraps, by their stubborn determination to claim what should have been given them unconditionally, by mothering their children with a joy and care for which they have no blueprint. And by using that raw nerve like a divining rod to seek out and bask in  the love of good men. I got a lovely email from a woman, Susan L, who shared her poetry with me; perfect, delicate lines that illuminate this so beautifully. Thank you, Sue.

Glow

Not that my life

has ever been normal

like toast on Sundays

I thought it was

silly me

playing in the half-lit

dusk of summer

catching fireflies

cool grass underfoot.

Not that my life

has ever been tidy

like crisp white sheets.

I thought it was

no messes

too big or small

for my cleaning

thoroughly you see

without a trace.

Not that my life

has ever been shared

like wine at Communion.

I thought it was

being passed

with intimate reverence

each tart swallow

bitter reminder

of failed redemption.

Not that my life

has ever been predictable

like lilies on Easter

I thought it was

‘til I discovered

you were waiting

all along

to feed me toast and wine

on lily-white sheets

and in the dusk of redemption

you light my way

as if you’ve always known

I’d follow fireflies.

sml