Within myself and within my circle there is an argument about how to unfold WPIT. By the way I think we are close to changing the name – to something like Include.Me.org.
My certainties are based in some simple stories. They are stories from my own experience. Of course there is nothing unusual about this. All humans build their lives from their experience, their stories within the contexts provided by culture.
The story of my Father and the binding of ancient female children’s feet provides me with certainty that Inclusion can only be built on a foundation of Giftedness. His story of the killing of children with Down Syndrome (when I was 6) gives me the understanding that I have a “mission” and – more recently – that there must be an economic foundation to our approach to Inclusion. My encounter with the reality of God’s love when I was twelve gives me a greater understanding that I have a unique path, and that there will always be a way for me to enjoy my life, be fulfilled and bring about Inclusion. Then there was the day Dad told me to pay attention to where my clean laundry went, and I began to see that I could direct my support, and so the relationships and tasks of the daily life that would be my journey.
I am uncertain where the idea that peace is available through Inclusion comes from. There is no stellar tale. This frustrates me and is perhaps the cause of the slow development of this “project”. In the 80’s and 90’s an aggregate of stories coalesced in my experience and I began to see the potential socio-political transformation that would lead to greater peacefulness as communities became more inclusive.
To me it is not about personal peace although that is tied in and important. It is about cultural peacefulness. After all, the Scotties, Felicias and Eddies are everywhere and if their Giftedness is included powerfully, peace will break out everywhere!
Without a strong story I am not communicating powerfully. So it grows slowly and has weak roots.
I have been looking for a strong enough story. I have been hoping that I could find or build it through research. Apparently this approach is too weak. I must find it more clearly in my own stories and experience.
Perhaps it resides with my Mother. This seems unlikely.
So tonight I commit myself to give birth to a story that links Peace and Inclusion so powerfully that people’s hearts will be opened. Gloria’s message to me tonight is that I will not find that story in research, economics or my head. The story must reach those understandings, but it must be anchored in my heart.
Right now the story is simply missing. There clearly a space and a need for it, but where the story should be – in my mouth and heart – there is simply silence. Of course, silence – my silence – is the perfect place to begin the exploration! The path has always been linked to silence.
Perhaps tomorrow I will meet the person who will show me where the story lies within me.
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
January 9, 2011
As I was going to bed last night, Mike assisting, after staying up a little late to blog, I thought that the day had been so fulfilling, so replete with authentic experience, that I could happily die with no regrets. Well, I didn’t die. I awoke to a day of more video taping in my winter coat under camera lights, more Farmville, more apple pie, and beautiful sunshine. The vision out of my lake facing window was just like so many of those Christmas card scenes with brilliant sun shining on neat and even tiny houses with perfectly snow covered roof tops!
I got so tired today that I actually fell asleep momentarily during a pause in the taping. Just the same, finally, Michael, Sarah and I reached an ending to the play that we all are excited about. It is in the camera. The editing can happen. I do not have to travel with the play unless I want to.
At the same time I feel the pressure of how structured I am making my life again. Each of my chosen task areas could use whole days in and of themselves to “do” them with research and thoroughness. WPIT, painting, blogging, the ACF Inclusion Circle, travel and workshops, Wisdom Graduate Liaison, the Robert Cooke Coop, attending to the gifts and needs of my staff, not to mention the Individualized Funding envelope upon which we all depend, Farmville, time with my Dad, time watching pelicans and construction cranes – I can’t keep up with myself, and to just give each of them “a lick and a promise” (there’s my Mother again!) fills my day from 6:30am to 12:30am.
Yet I don’t seriously intend to change a thing. It’s all too rich!
A clone? Would it really give me “more time” or would I just expand to nearly burst two lives – not just one?
So often I feel like I never left off being four years old. I just want to play and eat. I do NOT want to go to bed no matter if I can’t stay awake long enough to get there. I want to get into everything, leave the messes to someone else and find out how everything works. And I never really mean to do harm.
Four is compelling and passionate, creative and fantastical, and NEVER reasonable. Four doesn’t have a style, a culture, a career, a financial plan, an ethic or a long memory. Four is optimistic. Four makes and loses friends easily, forgives easily and is easily forgiven. Four is able to bend a long, long way before breaking.
Four is also right on the edge of losing that openness, of becoming fearful, judgemental and certain, of narrowing the options and playing the game. It is nearly the moment to find out there is no Santa Claus.
Then it’s a long, long stretch until maybe, just maybe the adult becomes willing and able to be responsible for creating a world within which she and everyone she touches can be four again.
I want to be, and sometimes am, that adult. It is good!
I got so tired today that I actually fell asleep momentarily during a pause in the taping. Just the same, finally, Michael, Sarah and I reached an ending to the play that we all are excited about. It is in the camera. The editing can happen. I do not have to travel with the play unless I want to.
At the same time I feel the pressure of how structured I am making my life again. Each of my chosen task areas could use whole days in and of themselves to “do” them with research and thoroughness. WPIT, painting, blogging, the ACF Inclusion Circle, travel and workshops, Wisdom Graduate Liaison, the Robert Cooke Coop, attending to the gifts and needs of my staff, not to mention the Individualized Funding envelope upon which we all depend, Farmville, time with my Dad, time watching pelicans and construction cranes – I can’t keep up with myself, and to just give each of them “a lick and a promise” (there’s my Mother again!) fills my day from 6:30am to 12:30am.
Yet I don’t seriously intend to change a thing. It’s all too rich!
A clone? Would it really give me “more time” or would I just expand to nearly burst two lives – not just one?
So often I feel like I never left off being four years old. I just want to play and eat. I do NOT want to go to bed no matter if I can’t stay awake long enough to get there. I want to get into everything, leave the messes to someone else and find out how everything works. And I never really mean to do harm.
Four is compelling and passionate, creative and fantastical, and NEVER reasonable. Four doesn’t have a style, a culture, a career, a financial plan, an ethic or a long memory. Four is optimistic. Four makes and loses friends easily, forgives easily and is easily forgiven. Four is able to bend a long, long way before breaking.
Four is also right on the edge of losing that openness, of becoming fearful, judgemental and certain, of narrowing the options and playing the game. It is nearly the moment to find out there is no Santa Claus.
Then it’s a long, long stretch until maybe, just maybe the adult becomes willing and able to be responsible for creating a world within which she and everyone she touches can be four again.
I want to be, and sometimes am, that adult. It is good!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
December 28, 2010
Mike has pretty much finished reading through the autobiography section of the 475 pages we assembled last week. Kimberly is reading too, and getting quite into it, as in she is upset about some of it! Interesting! Their reactions reconnect me with my story.
As editor Mike has suggested that I write about the end of Cycle 2 as a bridge into the central location of the book – Cycle 3. Makes sense, and at the same time, it’s a bit intimidating. It might take more than two pages. It might take time and effort.
But it’s TIME – time for this book.
So here goes, Mike!
I became conscious that another cycle had ended or was coming to an end at about the time of my 60th birthday. I am not clear. Recently I have been noticing that my memory for events from the time of returning from the 2008/09 tour – late April 2009 through my hospitalization in Oct. 2010 – is jumbled. I chalk it up to stress, the growing infection in my body and the actual effect of one Cycle passing into another.
The foundation of the concept of my life being in 30 year cycles comes from the belief – powerfully communicated to me when I was six or so - that I certainly could not live past thirty years of age. At about that time I was enrolled in a research study conducted at “Sick Kids” – the Hospital for Sick Kids in Toronto. From that point I was to take two trips every six months into a big city, by car, at a time when such a voyage was strenuous for every person involved – me, my mother and my father.
There are several elements of this pattern that created fundamental perceptions of life for me. The adult Judith has always struggled with the “obvious” conclusions that the child came to in these four trips every year.
First of all, I knew I must be sick. Why so much attention from doctors and big hospital people if I wasn’t sick! Secondly nearly every encounter was bookmarked by intense pain and loneliness, and at the same time a sense of specialness and intimacy. For example, on each of these mornings my father would get me up – something which otherwise my mother always did. He always gave me the special breakfast – boiled egg mashed up on buttered, nearly burnt toast – a breakfast that I looked forward to passionately. Once the appointments were completed my mother always took me for an extra special lunch. She never said anything but it was understood that it was her way of saying that she knew how much these trips were a source of pain and loneliness for me. Finally, the doctors always paid a certain amount of special attention to me and expected me to perform in some entertaining way. For example, they always asked me to tell them a joke on each occasion. I realized at a very early age that this attention set me apart in some way, and so as much as the actual occasions were difficult, I also at some level looked forward to these benchmarks in my otherwise boring life.
And so, the fundamental themes of my life were well established before I was eight. I was special, I was different, I was dying, I was to be treated painfully by every adult who mattered to me, and I had nothing to say about any of it, except to be ready to tell jokes and eat lots of good food. I was very chubby until my 50’s.
(To be continued…)
As editor Mike has suggested that I write about the end of Cycle 2 as a bridge into the central location of the book – Cycle 3. Makes sense, and at the same time, it’s a bit intimidating. It might take more than two pages. It might take time and effort.
But it’s TIME – time for this book.
So here goes, Mike!
I became conscious that another cycle had ended or was coming to an end at about the time of my 60th birthday. I am not clear. Recently I have been noticing that my memory for events from the time of returning from the 2008/09 tour – late April 2009 through my hospitalization in Oct. 2010 – is jumbled. I chalk it up to stress, the growing infection in my body and the actual effect of one Cycle passing into another.
The foundation of the concept of my life being in 30 year cycles comes from the belief – powerfully communicated to me when I was six or so - that I certainly could not live past thirty years of age. At about that time I was enrolled in a research study conducted at “Sick Kids” – the Hospital for Sick Kids in Toronto. From that point I was to take two trips every six months into a big city, by car, at a time when such a voyage was strenuous for every person involved – me, my mother and my father.
There are several elements of this pattern that created fundamental perceptions of life for me. The adult Judith has always struggled with the “obvious” conclusions that the child came to in these four trips every year.
First of all, I knew I must be sick. Why so much attention from doctors and big hospital people if I wasn’t sick! Secondly nearly every encounter was bookmarked by intense pain and loneliness, and at the same time a sense of specialness and intimacy. For example, on each of these mornings my father would get me up – something which otherwise my mother always did. He always gave me the special breakfast – boiled egg mashed up on buttered, nearly burnt toast – a breakfast that I looked forward to passionately. Once the appointments were completed my mother always took me for an extra special lunch. She never said anything but it was understood that it was her way of saying that she knew how much these trips were a source of pain and loneliness for me. Finally, the doctors always paid a certain amount of special attention to me and expected me to perform in some entertaining way. For example, they always asked me to tell them a joke on each occasion. I realized at a very early age that this attention set me apart in some way, and so as much as the actual occasions were difficult, I also at some level looked forward to these benchmarks in my otherwise boring life.
And so, the fundamental themes of my life were well established before I was eight. I was special, I was different, I was dying, I was to be treated painfully by every adult who mattered to me, and I had nothing to say about any of it, except to be ready to tell jokes and eat lots of good food. I was very chubby until my 50’s.
(To be continued…)
Monday, December 20, 2010
December 20, 2010
Jen the masseuse, Kevin the frazzling child, trading a ride to Christmas shop with Helen for a car wash – inside and out, fundraising, cancelled meetings all day, tracking down a minced pie for tomorrow’s Laser Eagles potluck, discussing the next phases of WPIT with Mike, answered and unanswered e-mail, wrapping presents – these occupied my day.
Jen says there is no choice except to rest. At the same time we are on a very different plane today with my body, discussing together the intricacies of clearing and opening space for my right side while moving more of what I do with my right side into my left side – practical to spiritual. It’s a much different place than managing pain, though there is still some pain to manage. Oh, by the way, I don’t really get what all that means in a day-to-day way. Stay tuned!
When I get to this moment in the year I generally feel a certain sense of victory. This year, this night, at 3:17am Eastern Time there will be a full eclipse of the moon and we will also pass the Solstice. Thursday will yield more sunlight than today. Daylight will steadily lengthen until June 21, 2011.
There are moments in life when you know for certain that it doesn’t get worse than this. Those moments are perversely joyful, at least to me, giving a sense of power and vitality. Now that I am solidly into my Third Cycle this eclipsed Solstice offers just such a sense of joy and strength. I have already come through some of the most difficult moments of my life, and yet so much potential and realized opportunity is with me at this time.
I love my home, my health has returned, I have pathways to money, I have great staff and awesome friends, the ROM is working with me, the Book of Judith will tour this year coming and next, Mike Skubic is putting real legs under WPIT and – mysteriously – I even feel more attractive to men. I want to be a leader, I am a leader and I have the strongest chance ever to make a worldwide difference.
Some euphoria is Morphine, no doubt. Yesterday I took none but today I took two doses. Just the same could Morphine give me a high if there was nothing in my soul to be uplifted? I doubt it.
Besides money, if there is something to be at work to accomplish it would be to paint more frequently and steadily, which means having reliable and frequent access to a tracker that is trained to my ways. Mike has great potential but we have so much else going on that tracking for me easily gets sidelined. There is no reason I couldn’t have more than one tracker.
I never expected that art and writing would play such a large part of my life and be such a strong path to building Inclusion. Yet when I look back over the past seven years, and also twenty-eight years, painting, theatre and writing have been the most expressive and reliable vehicles for me to be Judith.
Funny how long it takes to see the obvious.
Anyway it is time to focus on painting, writing, friends, good food and rest. There are other important aspects to my life, of course, but these are my foundation.
The Third Cycle will continue.
Jen says there is no choice except to rest. At the same time we are on a very different plane today with my body, discussing together the intricacies of clearing and opening space for my right side while moving more of what I do with my right side into my left side – practical to spiritual. It’s a much different place than managing pain, though there is still some pain to manage. Oh, by the way, I don’t really get what all that means in a day-to-day way. Stay tuned!
When I get to this moment in the year I generally feel a certain sense of victory. This year, this night, at 3:17am Eastern Time there will be a full eclipse of the moon and we will also pass the Solstice. Thursday will yield more sunlight than today. Daylight will steadily lengthen until June 21, 2011.
There are moments in life when you know for certain that it doesn’t get worse than this. Those moments are perversely joyful, at least to me, giving a sense of power and vitality. Now that I am solidly into my Third Cycle this eclipsed Solstice offers just such a sense of joy and strength. I have already come through some of the most difficult moments of my life, and yet so much potential and realized opportunity is with me at this time.
I love my home, my health has returned, I have pathways to money, I have great staff and awesome friends, the ROM is working with me, the Book of Judith will tour this year coming and next, Mike Skubic is putting real legs under WPIT and – mysteriously – I even feel more attractive to men. I want to be a leader, I am a leader and I have the strongest chance ever to make a worldwide difference.
Some euphoria is Morphine, no doubt. Yesterday I took none but today I took two doses. Just the same could Morphine give me a high if there was nothing in my soul to be uplifted? I doubt it.
Besides money, if there is something to be at work to accomplish it would be to paint more frequently and steadily, which means having reliable and frequent access to a tracker that is trained to my ways. Mike has great potential but we have so much else going on that tracking for me easily gets sidelined. There is no reason I couldn’t have more than one tracker.
I never expected that art and writing would play such a large part of my life and be such a strong path to building Inclusion. Yet when I look back over the past seven years, and also twenty-eight years, painting, theatre and writing have been the most expressive and reliable vehicles for me to be Judith.
Funny how long it takes to see the obvious.
Anyway it is time to focus on painting, writing, friends, good food and rest. There are other important aspects to my life, of course, but these are my foundation.
The Third Cycle will continue.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
December 18, 2010
I made $0 today. Dad paid the $26 to fix the tire. Tomorrow I will make nothing and on Monday I will make $500.
I rested today, levelled up twice in Farmville, did some Wisdom preparation for our course completion night, some ROM related stuff, and visited with Steve for a couple of hours. Then I went Christmas shopping with my hyper eleven year old friend, Kevin, from down the hall. His mother, Sherry, practically worshipped me when I picked him up. I can only imagine that he is a handful – the kind of child that REALLY needs a whole village to raise him.
Yet having him around as he has been for the last eight days feels good mostly. Boundaries are needed – yes. I amused and shocked myself when I first saw that he had taken a half a pie out of its box and put it on his personal plate! There was no measured thought in my parent-like response to that one! But both the wanting to and being able to effectively intervene were right there, and it felt good! Yes, he can be safe with me.
Otherwise we rode in the car, shopped at a used everything store for Christmas stuff and ate together. I learned that the current word for “very good” is “Bam”. It feels good to know that too.
I realize that I present questions, suggestions, alternatives and explanations to Kevin that often make no sense to him or of no interest. Tonight I decided that this is not a problem. I recalled how Dad talked endlessly at a level usually just out of reach, and continuously presented reading material and other information that had nothing to do with my reality. But he kept in touch somehow with my world as I think I am with Kevin’s. I think this because Kevin keeps on coming back for more.
When I was ready and willing to be available I had Dad’s world already with me. So I felt OK today with explaining to a fidgety eleven year old how one gets a driver’s license while he wasn’t listening or comprehending much, yet was also hanging in for the whole experience.
A poor kid with labels based on his perception differences with a great Mom in a bunch of fractured relationships – half a hallway away. It has taken fifteen months and two parties to find them, or rather, for them to be willing to come close. I held those parties with Peter’s assistance because of genuinely believing in WPIT, Giftedness and John McKnight style community development.
I feel like I am on a number of thresholds and that something is breaking my way. Can it be that once again the universe is willing for me to have my dreams come true? Actually I imagine that the Universe has always been willing. It’s just that it is never just about me and so whole worlds must shift for things to line up. They are shifting.
Perhaps the Universe is with me as my Dad was with me when I was ten, or as I am with Kevin now. It is presenting me with the dream, the world and the pathways. However I can only dimly catch the drift right now. Just the same I am getting that there is a drift to catch and I am willing. Is it possible that I am now also close to being able?
I rested today, levelled up twice in Farmville, did some Wisdom preparation for our course completion night, some ROM related stuff, and visited with Steve for a couple of hours. Then I went Christmas shopping with my hyper eleven year old friend, Kevin, from down the hall. His mother, Sherry, practically worshipped me when I picked him up. I can only imagine that he is a handful – the kind of child that REALLY needs a whole village to raise him.
Yet having him around as he has been for the last eight days feels good mostly. Boundaries are needed – yes. I amused and shocked myself when I first saw that he had taken a half a pie out of its box and put it on his personal plate! There was no measured thought in my parent-like response to that one! But both the wanting to and being able to effectively intervene were right there, and it felt good! Yes, he can be safe with me.
Otherwise we rode in the car, shopped at a used everything store for Christmas stuff and ate together. I learned that the current word for “very good” is “Bam”. It feels good to know that too.
I realize that I present questions, suggestions, alternatives and explanations to Kevin that often make no sense to him or of no interest. Tonight I decided that this is not a problem. I recalled how Dad talked endlessly at a level usually just out of reach, and continuously presented reading material and other information that had nothing to do with my reality. But he kept in touch somehow with my world as I think I am with Kevin’s. I think this because Kevin keeps on coming back for more.
When I was ready and willing to be available I had Dad’s world already with me. So I felt OK today with explaining to a fidgety eleven year old how one gets a driver’s license while he wasn’t listening or comprehending much, yet was also hanging in for the whole experience.
A poor kid with labels based on his perception differences with a great Mom in a bunch of fractured relationships – half a hallway away. It has taken fifteen months and two parties to find them, or rather, for them to be willing to come close. I held those parties with Peter’s assistance because of genuinely believing in WPIT, Giftedness and John McKnight style community development.
I feel like I am on a number of thresholds and that something is breaking my way. Can it be that once again the universe is willing for me to have my dreams come true? Actually I imagine that the Universe has always been willing. It’s just that it is never just about me and so whole worlds must shift for things to line up. They are shifting.
Perhaps the Universe is with me as my Dad was with me when I was ten, or as I am with Kevin now. It is presenting me with the dream, the world and the pathways. However I can only dimly catch the drift right now. Just the same I am getting that there is a drift to catch and I am willing. Is it possible that I am now also close to being able?
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