grief work

Picture Credit

People are generally threatened by emotional vulnerability. Whenever you happen to open up to others, you'll find their eyes oftentimes glaze over. This reflex is strongly aligned to society’s emotional insulation. LeoTolstoy in his novel “The Death of Ivan Ilyich" tells the story of society's deep commitment to this insulation. Everyone wants the main character Ivan to believe he will pull through his sickness when all evidence proves contrary. It's the typical portrait of the denial. As one commentator wrote,

“The artificial life is marked by shallow relationships, self-interest, and materialism. It is insular, unfulfilling, and ultimately incapable of providing answers to the important questions in life. The artificial life is a deception that hides life's true meaning and leaves one terrified and alone at the moment of death.”

Parental figures and authorities involuntarily mistreat us because they were mistreated by previous generations.  These unresolved traumas get swept under the rug and therefore interfere with our present adult existence producing codependence, addictions, depression, mental illness and anxiety.

-- intuitivefeeling

admiration vs. love

I never expected to encounter these welcomed lines by Alice Miller that mirrored the hidden motivations of my heart.

 

Alice Miller Notes:
 
“Others are there to admire him, and he himself is constantly occupied, body and soul, with gaining that admiration. This is how his torturing dependence shows itself. The childhood trauma is repeated: he is always the child whom his mother admires, but at the same time he senses that so long as it is his qualities that are being admired, he is not loved for the person he really is at any given time. In the parents' feelings, dangerously close to pride in their child, shame is concealed— lest he should fail to fulfill their expectations...

It is thus impossible for the grandiose person to cut the tragic link between admiration and love. In his compulsion to repeat he seeks insatiably for admiration, of which he never gets enough because admiration is not the same thing as love. It is only a substitute gratification of the primary needs for respect, understanding, and being taken seriously —needs that have remained unconscious.

The grandiose person is never really free, first, because he is excessively dependent on admiration from the object, and second, because his self-respect is dependent on qualities, functions, and achievements that can suddenly fail...

This combination of alternating phases of grandiosity and depression can be seen in many other people. They are the two sides of the medal that could be described as the "false self," a medal that was actually once given for achievements...

An actor, for example, at the height of his success, can play before an enthusiastic audience and experience feelings of heavenly greatness and almightiness. Nevertheless, his sense of emptiness and futility, even of shame and anger, can return the next morning if his happiness the previous night was due not only to his creative activity in playing and expressing the part but also, and above all, was rooted in the substitute satisfaction of old needs for echoing, mirroring, and being seen and understood. If his success the previous night only serves as the denial of childhood frustrations, then, like every substitute, it can only bring momentary satiation.

In fact, true satiation is no longer possible, since the right time for that now lies irrevocably in the past. The former child no longer exists, nor do the former parents. The present parents—if they are still alive—are now old and dependent, have no longer any power over their son, are delighted with his success and with his infrequent visits. In the present, the son enjoys success and recognition, but these things cannot offer him more than they are, they cannot fill the old gap. Again, as long as he can deny this with the help of illusion, that is, the intoxication of success, the old wound cannot heal. Depression leads him close to his wounds, but only the mourning for what he has missed, missed at the crucial time, can lead to real healing.” Chapter on "The Grandiose Person" -- Alice Miller

* False Self: A child who had to attend to a chaotic family of origin and the constant demands generated by this chaos, missed out on developing his or her true self. He or she had to adopt a false self in order to survive. For example, a boy grew up as a substitute husband to his mother, because the father had a paranoid personality disorder. That child had no chance to live out his childhood, because he was required to take on the role of an adult before his time. There is much more I could write about this interesting theory, but for now I only have time to give you a glimpse.”

 

Emotional Dependency

Photo credit: http://www.heyjosh.com/

I’ve been reading David Viscott’s, “Emotional Resilience: Simple Truths for Dealing with the Unfinished Business of Your Past.” After reading it over twice, I wonder about the subtitle, because for me there is nothing simple about dealing with the past. It's painfully complex, tiring, tedious and elusive. It requires questioning assumptions and coping mechanisms -- if that's at all possible.  However, Viscott compensates for what I consider this initial slip through his deeper understanding of the undercurrents of human interaction.

When Viscott refers to emotional dependence, he describes my family background with accuracy. As a result of this unsolicited “heritage” I have a mix of avoidant and co-dependent issues. Today, in this post I've jotted some reflections from reading Viscott, dividing my thoughts and feelings in two categories: In the first paragraph I mention the dependent traits that hit me hardest in my marriage while in the second category I deal with areas that still affect me in the present.

My wish to be close to my ex-wife caused me to disregard my safety and best interests, holding on to the relationship long after experience had revealed the truth. Once committed and enmeshed, I put up with considerable abuse. Maybe a list can help show how dependence led me down the dark alley of emotional debilitation:  1) I neglected self care. 2) I let down my guard in exchange for a few crumbs of affection. 3) I admitted wrong when I had no reason. 4) I did not see self-reliance as an alternative.

In the present, my main concern as Viscott states is that "others see me as loveable". Everything I am hinges upon this "need:  1) I suffer from guilt and as a result have difficulty expressing hurt in a timely fashion. 2) When others do not feel good about themselves, I take responsibility for it. 3) In my subconscious I still believe I need another person to be complete -- again quoting Viscott "to be my best, to assuage my hurt, to be comforted and loved".  4) Because I'm obsessed with the idea of diminishment I can slip into a scarcity mode. 5) I avoid "taking actions that may cause me to lose favor with others". [I'm aware how I fall prey to others' opinions, being vulnerable to changing my initial belief. For example, I have to guard against reading hardcore conservatives that defend marriage at all costs, who view the institution above the individual]. 6) Doubting my lovability and needing reinforcement, I have to work double hard to act on my own. For instance, several years I resisted the idea of initiating the process of divorce, putting it off in my mind until I had a new love in my life. To think of the brutal task of divorce without someone supporting me from start to finish seemed too unbearable. Fortunately, I found the resolve to finish what I started, but it wasn't easy and still have bouts of ambiguity. Part of me is thankful I'm out the relationship, while the other part of me questions whether I was too hard on her.

By nature then, I’m a people pleaser. I care what others think and this fear of being rejected often compromises my judgement. Sometimes I get emotionally blocked when I need to be in tune and aware. This makes me susceptible to being blindsided. Rather than defend myself, I tend to display my injury, as if doing so will cause the person who is hurting me to repent.

̴  Intuitive Feeling

Unavailable Parents

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As a child I remember my father's dark and stormy character with his unpredictable outbursts of rage. He only made eye contact when shouting at me. 

My mother on the other hand strained under the weight of many internal and external conflicts. Her disastrous marriage undermined her health in the form of migraines, ulcers, anxiety and bouts of depression, so that no matter how much she loved her us (her two children), we became a small wedge when it came to receiving her attention and love.

Fortunately, my relationship with my mother did blossom later in life and we still enjoy each other’s company greatly. She continues to be a source of support and inspiration to me especially in times of need. My father continues to be aloof and violent in temper and although I try to have conversations with him, they are more like monologues. 

Intuitive Feeling

Inner Wounded Children

painting by Joan Miró

When we get around to understanding a little bit about our inner wounded child we are more aware about how our past can interfere with our present. As a young adult I knew I had issues to wrestle through -- both big and small. Still, apart from reading self-help books and listening to good sermons, I had no clue how to resolve my inner conflicts nor where to begin, so I often settled for avoiding my inner world.

I struggled with compulsive behaviors like rescuing others from their problems, excessive gift-giving and "falling in love" too fast. My locus of motivation focused externally, seeking to get my supply of approval through people pleasing. The wake up call came when I read John Bradshaw's book, "Home Coming: Reclaiming and Championing Your Inner Child"

Bradshaw writes some penetrating descriptions that pertain to the inner wounded child that are worth considering. Here is a summary of his thoughts (sprinkled with some of my own comments) for your viewing. Those of us who have had an emotionally chaotic childhood with many traumas may find ourselves struggling with some of these issues:

We may have difficulty trusting ourselves to meet our needs and therefore think we need someone else to meet them.
We may have difficulty trusting others so that we feel we have to be in control of our surrounding all the time.
We may fail to detect body signals such as not being aware how tired we are.
We may neglect going to the doctor or dentist.
We may have deep fears of abandonment.
We may feel we don’t belong anywhere or anyone.
In social situations we may be invisible so no one notices us, yet not even be aware why we do this.
We may attempt to make ourselves indispensable to others to make sure they will not leave us.
We may have a great need to be touched or hugged that could make us vulnerable to bonding too soon, too deep with someone we don’t even know and who could even be harmful to us…
We may have an obsessive need to be valued and may have difficulty establishing boundaries for fear that others may not like those boundaries.
We may isolate ourselves out of fear that people might end up rejecting us or we might end up rejecting them.Some of us are gullible and don’t see other people’s hidden agenda or else we see the hidden agenda but go along with it all the same...

“Everything is just fine”

I lived my childhood surrounded by lots of anger, shouting and drama, but I thought this was normal... the fate of every human being. I couldn’t make sense of my surroundings, so that left me in a state of confusion and guarded detachment. The world was a constant boot camp just waiting for you to trip and fall into a ditch with no one to help you get out.

Of course abuse came in diverse forms but most often it operated in insinuating ways, and so as a boy I learned to bear it silently behind a facade of “Everything is just fine”. The bruises were inside where no one could see them anyway.

My view and experience of love and affection was also just as disfigured. Again, insecure love is a distortion of life, but when you've lived with it most of your life it feels normal and you just don’t question it. In my adulthood, I entered the lowest valley of my life where I quietly and slowly lost myself to a personality disordered spouse. My sense of peace laid flat on its back with all four feet propped up. If anxiety and depression could describe my condition, I wouldn’t have been able to say, for I was too numb to feel.

I became as invisible as I could, flying under the radar as much as possible -- making myself as small as I could to escape the tantrums. If I saw an acquaintance on the street, I’d walk on by pretending not to notice him or her, because I simply did not have strength to interact. I stopped caring how I appeared, whether my hair was cut well or not, what clothes I had on... Any photographs taken of me during this period revealed the empty eggshell existence. There was no sparkle in my eyes, not even a trace of joy or spontaneity… and as Randolph Bourne says… “haunted with a constant feeling of weakness and low vitality which makes effort more difficult and renders (me) easily fainthearted and discouraged by failure.¨

Friends could see how I lived under the pangs of anxiety more than I was willing to admit. The reflection in their eyes told me something was wrong, but I preferred to live in denial, so I became reclusive. As Susan Ariel Kennedy wrote, “We become hypnotized by isolation, and think we’re doing it all by ourselves. Our self-supporting skills are not developed, so when people cancel or disappoint us, we can feel a lack of support. Support is usually very close by, and we haven’t learned how or when to ask for it. This can all be changed by studying and practicing new ways of giving and receiving support.”

I found some sense of relief in my routine of domestic chores. In some odd way I was learning an indispensable lesson: to be self-motivated even though my activities were “unsung, unseen, and unsupported”.
It was in the midst of this Cinderella scenario, that the survivor instinct awoke inside me -- when Hope entered inside me through a pin hole saying my life was about to change though I had no idea how.
What began to grow inside me was that I no longer expected others to understand me as I once "needed" them to. If someone understood me I'd be grateful! If not that too was now acceptable. It used to amaze me that though I described my past, EVEN THEN, well-intentioned people would give me this or that advice having no idea what this level of hurt meant. I realized it was not my responsibility to convince anyone about the validity of my story. That had been my first step to freedom.

So, this is my testimony -- a man lost in the land of the lost, but now in the process of recovery… The underlying motive that now compels me through each day is the search for connectedness -- authentic connection – seeking to share rich, satisfying, deep thoughts and feelings.


-- Reflector

Humane education...

I believe that so much of how we act and behave even among adults is shaped by the schooling environment we grew up in ... and oddly enough we don’t even question how that environment spills over into the present, even how it affects our most affective ties that we supposedly work to protect yet find we often end up messing up by some faceless monster we cannot seem to identify.

The following are some selected excerpts reflecting on this nameless creature, that from this moment on we can identify as ¨schooling climate¨. It’s one of those invisible areas of life that seems insignificant yet has shaped our views of life right to the core of our being and not always for the good. If you think about it, who hasn’t passed through this cookie cutter we call schooling that BY THE WAY traditionally uses punitive measures to get the job done and identifies the student as the sole source of any given problem letting the teacher or school off the hook?How many of us question the punitive model that we experienced and that may have left untold scars?

How much of the toxic environment still runs through our veins so that we reenact those punitive ways without even recognizing them? Again, how much of these measures of our schooling effect the way we relate not only to our children, but to each other as adults? I’d like you to read the paragraphs below that basically talk about constructing community and promoting a feeling of safety as opposed to breeding competition and rivalry. I invite you to comment about what you think about the concept of community and the difference it could make applied not only to schooling but to our personal lives.

“Even older children may act in troubling ways because they are wanting for the sort of warm, caring relationships that enable and incline people to act more compassionately. They may have learned to rely on power rather than reason, to exhibit aggression rather than compassion, because this is what they have seen adults do – and perhaps what has been done to them. ‘ Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile’ mostly describes the behavior of people who have hitherto been given only inches.”

‘Communities,’ few people indicate precisely what that term means.” … In saying that a classroom is a ‘community’, I mean that it is a place in which students feel cared about and are encouraged to care about each other. They experience a sense of being valued and respected; the children matter to one another and to the teacher.“To say a classroom is a community, is to say it is a place where… care and trust are emphasized above restrictions and threats, where unity and pride (of accomplishment and in purpose) replace winning and losing, and where each person is asked, helped, and inspired to live up to such ideals and values as kindness, fairness, and responsibility. Such a classroom seeks to meet each student’s need to feel competent, connected to others and autonomous… Students are not only exposed to basic human values, they also have many opportunities to think about, discuss, and act on those values, while gaining experiences that promote empathy and understanding of others.”

“… it turned out that the stronger that community feeling was, the more the students reported liking school and the more they saw learning as something valuable in its own right.” “With nothing more than a loosely confederated bunch of free individuals, one is left with the same old rules-and-penalties model. The pursuit of laissez-faire liberty condemns us to a system of control, even though different people may be doing the controlling. Autonomy is not enough; we need community too. ”

“The community approach goes beyond teacher-student interaction and asks us to consider the broader question of how everyone gets along together. It also suggests that the way students turn out is a function not only of what each has been taught, but of how their environment has been set up. If we want to help children grow into compassionate people, we have to help them change the way the classroom works and feels, not just the way each separate member of the class acts. We have to transform not just individuals, but educational structures.”

“What’s more, research has found that shallow, unimaginative instruction – as well as a cynical set of beliefs about children – tends to be associated with teachers who are left to their own devices and wind up valuing their privacy more than anything else. … teachers who do exemplary work in helping students engage deeply with what they are learning are invariably part of collegial communities of educators.” Kohn, Alfie. “Beyond Discipline: From Compliance to Community.” ASCD publications, Virginia, 1996.

True discipleship...

Discipleship and Pastoral accompaniment has been traditionally restricted to identifying sinful thoughts and behaviors of the individual with no thought to the motives that drive the behaviors.

Discipleship in Christ Jesus involves spiritual, emotional, PHYSICAL and psychological healing thus ... redemption and renewal as a primary goal. It is interesting that many Christian discipleship programs seek holiness without thought to healing at all. From my experience holiness is the fruit of healing rather than the other way around.Interactive sharing such as we have here at Blog Land helps to develop a 'habit of inquiry' cultivating a holding place for personal healing and growth.

We all need a safe place that facilitates an unveiling where we are able to see ourselves with greater clarity and at the same time give fuller expression to our feelings... and actually find our voice. Above all this safe haven of personal expression can become for us a source of serenity that comes from acceptance of ourselves and others rather than denial or resistance to the realities that surround us.

Rarely are we invited to talk about those defining moments of our childhood that sometimes creep into our present simply because we have swept those experiences under the carpet.I wrote some questions for your reflection, but if you feel like answering one or two, and sharing that would be wonderful too.

What kind of upbringing did you experience? Was there favoritism toward anyone sibling? Which parent seemed to favor whom? Did you grow up in a religious background? How would you describe it? Was it too strict? Was it too permissive? Was it an environment where outward appearances were the most important factor? What do you tend to put off or ignore? What tasks or situations do you avoid that pull you out of your comfort zone?What traits do you look for in someone whom you can confide in or whom you could possibly consider a confidant?

© Troubled Reflector 2007

Living in your head...

One experienced pastor once asked his fellow colleagues, ¨Do you know how to ruin a Bible Study?¨ The others just looked at him in amazement. He responded, ¨Just invite seasoned Christians¨ That bold statement perplexed me at first, but months later it made sense to me. Before, I used to be silently disturbed about church life. I felt it had a stifling effect but I rarely ever bothered to question why.

Now as I understand and see with a little more clarity. It’s difficult to put into words, but the Christian culture sometimes feels more like the canned products you buy in the supermarket than the fresh stuff you prepare yourself. Some sermons, for example could have easily been delivered by an android and get more results! Could it be that many Christians have developed their intellectual abilities at the price of sacrificing their emotional mind? Let’s think about it.

¨Are you one of those people who pride themselves on being rational and logical in everything you do, including your relationships? Do you cherish a certain image of yourself as unflappable, unemotional and reasonable in the way you solve problems and in your relationship? If the answer is ´yes´ you may be one of the Mr. Spocks of this world -- those folks who conduct their relationships based primarily on intellect, not passion... You may even incite your partner into intense emotional exasperation because of your emotionally minimalist posture.¨

¨On the surface, you are proud to live in your head rather than your heart -- you are proud not to be ruled by your emotions. But on deeper examination, you may discover that you fear your emotions and are afraid of losing control. You don’t trust what you feel, and you are afraid of what your emotions might do to you and to others. You don’t want to be hurt, so you refuse to engage in emotional displays. For you, feelings are messy, dangerous matters, best left to those who choose to live life with emotional turbulence. ¨

¨Living in your head may give you the illusion of a greater sense of control over your life. It may seem to reduce the pain of living with hurt, disappointment, and disillusionment. In fact, many women and men who experienced pain by escaping into their books, becoming analytical geniuses, and dodging their emotions behind a barricade of theories and facts.¨Now, as I read these paragraphs, it seems clearer why I grew so wary of the deadness that surrounded some churches. It becomes so sterile at times you wonder whatever became of God.*¨Self-control does not come from controlling our feelings, but from feeling our feelings."

-- Jeanne Segal

© TR 2007

Hesitation and stammering...

¨Blessed are the poor in spirit, because they know with certainty, that any love they receive is not due to ulterior motives.¨ -- Joan Manuel Serat

As a child, especially when he had to read aloud... he would memorize the pages assigned to him, so that the next day if his teacher asked him to read to the class, he’d be ready, not wanting to make a fool of himself, because of the embarrassment of any impromptu reading.

Later as an adult, while in seminary he began preaching and discovered that his sermon would not get off the ground. He stumbled around over his own thoughts. He was so afraid he just didn’t have what it would take to be a preacher... his lifetime dream.

Like polite folks, everyone noticed the hesitation and stammering but acted like they didn’t notice. But of course they did and were just being polite. However, behind closed doors the elders of his church said that if he wasn’t able to preach at the age 26 then he’d never be fit do so, so he was ¨encouraged¨ to pursue ¨one-on-one¨ Christian ministries instead. He had no idea what was going on... clueless.

The odd thing was that this young man did not struggle to communicate every time he spoke. Indeed, he was capable of being fluent in certain contexts. When by himself, speaking to a pet or to a group of children or speaking to a someone with whom he was comfortable with he spoke quite fluently.

So what did he do? Well, he never missed a single speech class, all of them focused on the idea that stammering was simply an inconvenient behavior. His teacher worked with the mechanics and behavior of stammering, separating mechanics entirely from what was going on inside, from how he was looking at the world.

It takes courage to come out of hiding, to allow others to be part of one’s process even when we trip over our own words or seize up all together. I wish I could understand what makes me different.

© Troubled Reflector 2007

"Christianese"

When I first arrived in Costa Rica, I would stop by a photo copy place quite often and it didn’t take long to figure out that the employees were Christian by the way they talked to each other. They’d use the usual phrases that sound somewhat odd to anybody outside the Church experience.

For example imagine what kind of impact, ¨We’re washed in the blood of the Lamb¨ could make?

Personally, I refrain from using these patterned phrases even when I’m inside the church walls though I respect those who do use them. Anyway, the day I sought to befriend the members of this group (at the copy-machine place), letting them know I was also a Christian, they handed me a Biblical track with a look of unbelief in their eyes. Why? Coz, I didn’t speak their lingo.


David Yeubanks comments, “Most often we are compelled to respond a certain way, feel a certain way, look a certain way, act a certain way – even when that ‘act’ denies what is truly going on inside us. Most of us who have attended Church our whole Christian lives do not really feel free to be openly, blatantly honest about what’s really in our hearts, so we put on smiles, speak in ‘Christianese’ and learn to react to situations and engage in conversations with patterned responses.”


Authenticity is a powerful human connector and positive change agent. Roman 12:9 says that love is to be free of pretense. Sincerity invites people closer, not religious form. I think one great obstacles to God’s message is when we Christians try to show care in a language that we ourselves don’t understand or at least is too vague, but which is ingrained in us. What are these phrases? Like most groups, Christians have a specialized language for those who are truly "in the know".


Before you read any further, I found a cute list of phrases from an Internet site (don’t remember where). Please take in mind that the examples are written tongue-in-cheek and are not intended to offend or mock anyone. Also, the meaning behind each patterned saying is subjective. Many sincere believers use ¨Christianese¨ because they’re not aware it’s patterned or stereotyped, and so perhaps it’s the only way they know how to express their thoughts…

Translation of most common phrases:

Christianese: "If it be God's will."
Translation: "I really don't think God is going to answer this one.
Christianese: "Let's have a word of prayer."
Translation: "I am going to pray for a long, long, long time."
Christianese: "That's not my spiritual gift."
Translation: "Find someone else."
Christianese: "The Lord works in mysterious ways."
Translation: "I'm totally clueless."
Christianese: "Lord willing . . ."
Translation: "You may think I'll be there, but I won't."
Christianese: "I don't feel led."
Translation: "Can't make me."
Christianese: "She has such a sweet spirit!"
Translation: "What an airhead!"
Christianese: "I have a 'check' in my spirit about him."
Translation: "I can't stand that jerk!"
Christianese: "Prayer concerns"
Translation: "Gossip"
Christianese: "In conclusion . . . "
Translation: "I'll be done in another hour or so."
Christianese: "You just have to put it in God's hands."
Translation: "Don't expect me to help you."
Christianese: "God wants to prosper you!"
Translation: "Give me your money."
Ron Hutchcraft explains further by saying,

“Our ‘Christianese’ encourages a person to "accept Christ as your personal Savior." We are so accustomed to the phrase, it seldom occurs to us that such a statement does not even register on the screen of most people. The average person’s concept of "accepting" a person is nowhere near the biblical imperative of putting one’s total trust in Jesus. The word Savior is seldom used in modern conversation and certainly not in a way that clearly communicates what Christ did for us on the Cross. Asking someone to "receive Christ" is also likely to leave the unspoken response, "I have no idea what that means." Many years ago, people spoke of "receiving" a guest, but these days we "receive" a package or a letter. When we ask someone, "Would you like to receive Christ?" he will likely wonder what we mean. To add to the confusion, there are religious traditions where members "receive Christ" every time they partake of the elements of Holy Communion. Some of our most precious faith-words can be misconstrued, misrepresented, and misunderstood. A few years ago a bumper sticker read: "Jesus saves — but Moses invests." While such irreverence makes us wince, it illustrates how confusing our words can be. For many of the people who need Christ most, a call to be "saved" is baffling.”
We need down-to-earth intelligible words to express what is often an intangible spiritual realm. God is the Lord of freshness, rather than patterned speech, often overblown tired phrases that truncate conversation rather than stimulate it. We are meant to be God’s messengers with an unmistakable individuality. May we replace our ‘Christianese” into life giving words that draw us closer to each other rather than isolating each other.

-- Refle

Patriarchism

When I studied counseling a few years ago, we discussed the subject of Patriarchism for several weeks. I found the introduction engaging wishing to one day further this brief initial research. I jotted down some thoughts taken from my counseling note book dated Nov. 2005. Unfortunately, I didn't include the references I used.

The word Patriarch sounds so ancient no one would suspect it has anything to do with human interactions today. By Patriarchy historians refer to male headship of family, clan and tribe, as an "institution or organization in which power is held and transferred through males.” Theologians see Patriarchism as a Biblical principle that had it's original roots in following God's ordinances and purposes. However, in modern times people often refer to Patriarchism as an oppressive system since Biblical societies lived periods when they had strayed from God.

We see a redemptive concept of male headship in the New Testament that points to Jesus Christ and his relationship to His bride, the church – how He gave his life for her in sacrificial love. The idea of sacrificial love is a revolutionary concept in comparison to the Old Testament social systems (long historical periods of godless degradation) where women were treated as property, with little regard for their safety or health.

Prior to the 1870s, there were no such things as separate prisons. Women were housed with men and were thus sexually exploited by male inmates. Since then, patriarchy has changed its façade, but not in regards to primitive caveman principles. The modernization of patriarchy appears to carry favorable connotations, but actually we face the same vile creature only it now wears a suit and tie.

Oppressive patriarchy has so penetrated our society that we fail to see how prevalent and harmful it is to our psychological makeup. Years ago I read John Gray’s “Men are from Mars; Women are from Venus.” I thought the ideas were so true to life without understanding the harm the author was promoting (even though the book sold 20 million copies). I never suspected the book as preserving the patriarchal status quo, while claiming the opposite. Gray’s main argument throughout the book is that men will always be men and therefore everyone will be happy when we accept men just as they are rather than attempting introduce change in any way.

While the ideals of family life in the twentieth century are given lip service – especially the myth of equal collaboration between family members -- the reality is that in many households, men use their power as a pretext for irresponsible and aggressive behavior. Unthinkingly, many women reinforce this sense of entitlement, even if it goes against their own interests. Women give men the license to be negligent in domestic chores, discourteous, and demeaning in joking ways, disregarding feelings, slighting parental obligations, sexually too aggressive, insensitive to their partner’s need for love and promiscuous. What would be intolerable characteristics for women are excused because, “men will be men.”

Since my family suffered under the hands of an aggressive "family head", I witnessed first hand what a wrong example looked like. At an early age -- what germinated -- was a seed of empathy in favor of women and against the injustices toward women.

Only once we are re-educated, do we learn that tolerating any kind "machoism" is wrong. When we become emotionally literate, deep feelings of injustice are no longer just feelings, but become clear ideas that we can articulate. We begin the path toward freedom once we develop that vital vocabulary.

I'd like to finish this essay with some thoughts by Tim M Kellis that I read today and that would make a great conclusion:

"Prejudice. One of the greatest gifts that has been discovered because of our wonderful system of democracy is the problem caused by having prejudicial beliefs. Prejudice breeds ignorance and contempt, results in anger, produces an overwhelming urge for power, blinds individuals from seeing the path to happiness, and in reality is the cause for the troubles within our relationships. Unfortunately, this concept has not yet breached the walls of the ivory tower of the psychology industry."-

© TR 2010

Comforting messages to oneself...

“I’m a recovering perfectionist who is often afraid to ‘choose the wrong thing,’ so I don’t choose anything, thinking that will keep me safe. Safe from what?” -- Susan Kennedy.

I think one of the things that characterizes anxiously attached people is that they tend to be relatively unskilled in producing comforting messages for themselves. This is a real dream killer! Picking up on these subtle subterranean thoughts is part of what healing and creativity are about.

It may surprise you to learn that even though the Bible is abundantly clear about boundaries, we often are not and allow negative thoughts to seep through the proverbial filter. Ever wonder why those boundaries seem so fuzzy… something so elusive like the very air we breathe? It’s no accident that we have this myopic outlook that clouds our dreams. Rhonda Britten explains boundaries in concrete terms that not only illuminate the way but helps us to reexamine how the past interferes in the present.

“In a healthy, loving household, children learn boundaries naturally. Through interactions with their parents and family, they internalize the self-esteem that enables them to say no, walk away from dangerous or damaging situations, express themselves assertively, keep secrets without guilt, and stand up for themselves even if they have to stand alone. When all those pieces of self-esteem are present, it is clear when a boundary needs to be put in place with a mate, friend, or stranger.

In reality, many of us did not grow up with all those pieces intact. Setting boundaries doesn’t come so naturally to us, as I found out the hard way… These days, when I am teaching my clients about fearless loving, I offer them my definition of healthy boundaries for couples. I explain that boundaries can encompass your physical space, your personal space, your body and the way you communicate with each other. The intention in fearless loving is to honor your boundaries without dishonoring your partner’s. Never make your needs more important than the other person’s, yet recognize when your needs are mandatory in order to continue feeling safe and respected in the relationship. Boundaries are not building barricades to love or putting someone through the twelve Labors of Hercules to prove they care. Boundaries are about honoring the soul in front of you.”

The best definition I have ever heard on boundaries comes from Dr. Cloud and Dr. Townsend. Establishing boundaries has to do with being receptive to all the good, while keeping all that is harmful from entering the heart, thus leaving us desolate, confused and denying our authentic essential self. Maybe that is why Jesus used such a powerful metaphor such as He did. "Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.” Who else is able to watch what goes in better than He? He would not allow anyone to come through the door that did not have a rightful claim to the sheep who were kept there. Anyone else would not be allowed in. Those who would dare to climb over the walls to get to the sheep were classified by Jesus as thieves. So too we need to watch those that seek to sneak over the boundaries inside our heart.

“A boundary is set to avoid violation of personal freedoms.”

© TR 2006

Italian Roots... [entire document]

“Nothing shapes values more than overcoming adversity, having to build success rather than being just given it and knowing - and being proud - not only of where you are but where you come from.”
RCMP Commissioner Giuliano Zaccardelli

“My Italian family journey”

About three years ago, I watched “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” just to appease a friend. I didn’t even expect to enjoy it, since I find most North American comedy movies annoying. It was not only humorous, but I also identified to the protagonist, Nia Vardalos who played the central role and wrote the screenplay herself. Vardalos stars as Toula, a Greek woman questioning her culture's expectations -- the conflict between her collective family culture versus her endangered personal growth.

The Portokalos family express their worry about Toula. She is shy, rather plain. Her aunts, uncles, and cousins regularly encroach in the most personal details of each other's lives. Her family believes Greek women marry Greek men and many other Old World views. If she doesn’t get married, she is expected to work the family business. Toula, however, dreamed much more than her family had planned for her.

Many elements of the movie were autobiographical and therefore reflected reality. It was an authentic portrait about the disparity between first generation Greek immigrants and their children’s divergent ways of thinking. The movie was a lively and light-hearted parody of gratification/pain contradictions. Writing this family memoir has allowed me to contemplate my own gratification/pain contradictions coming from my own Italian immigrant heritage.

As a child, I had looked at my Mom and Dad’s wedding photos many times, but not once did I ever notice that my father was not in any of the wedding photos, except one… and just one. My parents met in Canada for the first time after they had already married. You don’t have to reread that sentence. My parents met after they were married. As impossible as it is to believe, they married without ever having met even once -- only having seen each other in photographs. 

My parents knew one another only through correspondence, through my mother’s aunt who was also my dad’s sister. My mother was only 18 years old, facing a bleak existence in Catanzaro, Calabria where everyone was talking about how the streets of America were paved with gold and how people lived a good life there. My father was already living and working in Canada when my parents began to write one another. Somewhat similar to the effects of e-mail today, my mother constructed a dream of somehow living a happier and more fruitful true-North-strong-and-free life.

My father proposed marriage to Mom, but he said he was not able to return to Italy, so my parents married by proxy. A proxy marriage is a wedding ceremony where the parties are not physically present or in the presence of each other. During the marriage ceremony, based upon the authorization of a priest, the brother of my maternal grandfather acted on behalf of my Dad. Wedding vows were exchanged by means of a long distance phone call between Calabria, Italy to Toronto, Canada in 1956. I did not know this until I was an adult.

From 1880 onwards, 25 million Italians migrated from their homeland to the New Worlds struggling to achieve a better future.  After WWII the shortage of labor made Canada receptive to Italian immigrants. Almost 70% of Canada’s postwar immigrants were Italian. Poverty, overpopulation, and natural disaster prompted several million Southern Italians to immigrate to Canada, mostly from rural areas. My father came from a rural small town on the coast of Sicily called Capo D’orlando, while my mother was a city girl from the mountainous Catanzaro, Calabria.

Upon entry, Italians were made to feel unwelcome in Canada and the U.S., labeled as ignorant, poor, unskilled and lazy. My father often spoke about this kind of discrimination while my mother was able to integrate with other cultures and thus to transcend these injustices. My mother was comfortable socializing outside of her own culture, though she liked to also socialize with other Italians too.

An Italian Immigrant once said,

“I came to America because I heard the streets were paved with gold. When I got here, I found out three things: first, the streets weren’t paved with gold; second, they weren’t paved at all; and third, I was expected to pave them.”


Most Italians worked from the bottom of the occupational ladder and in the worst kinds of jobs, such as shoe shining, sewer cleaning, and construction. Many were miners or built railroads. They worked in low status, but not necessarily low paying jobs. My father was a stock keeper all his life while my mother advanced from a bank cashier to a bank supervisor. My father’s employment stagnation contrasted with my mother’s increasing promotions and salary increases.

In spite of the cultural and interpersonal obstacles, my parents learned to be resourceful, inventive and creative amid the demands of adjusting to a unfamiliar setting. They were models of a strong work ethic and emphasis on family and family values. Also, my parents were lively and did not have to work hard in order to have a good time. They enjoyed music, food, dance and lots of laughter. This contrasts with the Canadian culture that is informal, reserved, and generally lacks expressiveness.

Italian Growing “Pains”

As “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” had illustrated, so too the Southern Italian culture is composed largely of people who are typically loud, extroverted, hard-hitting, intrusive, paternalistic and not very reflective. My family was no exception, and yet in the midst of this dominant personality trait, I was born: someone who was so different: introverted, inconspicuous, quiet, and reflective. I also enjoyed reading and developing my writing. These kinds of interests worried my family.

I was stigmatized for being different. I was not a party person either while most everyone else in my family thrived on social gatherings. I preferred to be either alone or with a few friends than in a multitude. My relatives were good at telling me how bothered, and disappointed they felt. When a loved one celebrated a birthday, baptism, first communion or graduation, everyone was expected to visit in large numbers to show their support and warmth. Food, music and dance were the center of all our family events.

Like the Greek comedy, my parents also witnessed the distancing of their two children from the traditional norms of Italian values, but in their case they saw nothing funny about it. My sister Rosa and I had adopted Canadian values and this brought many heart breaking moments to my mother and father. For example, Rose and I had left the Catholic church and were converted to the Evangelical faith. This was a hard blow since Italians profess to be strong Catholics even if they deny many of the practices. Our leaving Catholicism generated lots of criticism from our relatives.

“Memory is a creation people reshape and reformulate throughout life.”
Roberto Orsi

Orsi states that Italian immigrant parents are excellent at conjuring up images of their homeland as a tool for social restraint. Southern Italy’ was viewed as a mythical place with supreme parents, obedient children, and submissive wives, and the Old World was contrasted to ‘ North America’ where everything had gone wrong. Obsessed by the fear that their social order would give way to the new world, parents used memory as a form of ‘coercive collaboration’ – a contradiction in terms yet this worked to maintain traditional values, and to quash individualism.

My father had an exasperating habit of singing praises to Italy and Italian history. He would say, “Did you know that so-and-so is Italian… This was Dad ‘s sermonizing mode, but none of the second generation believed him and (our many cousins) openly expressed inconformity to this improbable utopia.

Except for my mother, the majority of my family was from a rural background and therefore less inclined toward much reflection but more inclined toward social activities or financial achievement.

Members from an Italian Immigrant home are integrated from birth into strong, cohesive groups that throughout their lifetime continue to protect them and demand unquestioning loyalty. A strong sense of obligation to family and family events: Whenever my parents attended any of the family events, they would later criticize the way things were done or what was said. Acts of extraordinary generosity and hospitality were typically tied to high expectations that the generosity would be rewarded.

My mother also had always been the intermediary so all family events were inevitably coordinated through her. My father, sister and I got so used to her taking the initiative, that we still show passivity in this area. I tend to be solitary and usually leave it to my wife to initiate social contacts and activities.

I had visited Italy three times during my summer vacations. During my first trip at age seven, the relatives seemed so united and happy. On my second and third trip (age eleven and sixteen), I saw the other side, where many of the relatives were divided and had cut off communication.

Reflection as a result of my family journey:

Looking at my Italian roots is intrinsic to my life and it has proven interesting and challenging to think about the ways that being Italian has affected the course of my life. Today I value conversing at a profound level and wish that my relatives could have shared this joy. Unfortunately, my relatives were illiterate when it came to being communicative. Even today, when I visit Toronto, some of my relatives receive me as if I had never left Canada or ever lived in Costa Rica. There is rarely any curiosity. I see this as a bit of a contradiction, because my family and relatives possessed wonderful qualities such as passion and love for life, family, food, art and music, our distinct brand of humor, liveliness and intensity.

I suppose conversation means so much to me because I had so little of it during my childhood. Among the thousands of Immigrant Italian families in Toronto, conversation was not part of the menu. If only someone had stopped to ask, “What’s going on in your heart? Perhaps I would not have grown up as a stranger to my Italian heritage. My relatives simply repeated the customs and patterns of their own ancestors. I think part of recovering my Italian heritage involves the art of conversing, because we not only become aware of the strengths and flaws of our family roots, but validate each other and are saying that the persons we converse with are worthwhile and interesting to us. [1] While my parents (and other first generation immigrants) continue to keep close contact with relatives in Italy, my sister and I (second generation) did not establish nor maintain any such contact.My parents embarked on the most difficult, almost unimaginable journey any of us can think of – immigrating to another land. They left their familiar world of sunny Italy to settle in the cold northern city of Toronto. Although I accompanied my parents as their story unfolded - experiencing it in my own way - I don’t think I can ever really understand the courage it took for them to take that fateful decision. If I had to name the most powerful effect upon me, it would be the impact of watching an Italian community carve out a new life, for themselves and their children.[1]