Story -- Five Minute Friday

Write 31 Days Day #6

A good story is full of engaging characters, a solid plot line, and some juices plot twists, and unexpected shifts. I love reading a book and being completely caught off guard.

We talk about our lives as stories. It's less enjoyable when our lives shout, "Plot twist!" at us.

That's what mine did a couple of years ago. I was going along on my usual trajectory, thinking I knew what was coming. We were heading into empty nest, possible weddings, maybe grandchildren. A job shift and ultimately retirement when things went off the rails.

I can't really say I didn't see it coming. But I just kept believing it would get better. We'd get back on the track I saw -- together. That didn't happen.

So now I'm writing a new plot outline. I'm introducing new characters and uncovering aspects of my main character (me) that I didn't know existed. Or at least I'd forgotten about. 

I'm choosing to see the plot twist in my story as a good thing. Can't wait to see what happens next.

Blessings!

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Marnie -- Throw Back Thursday

Write 31 Days Day #5

A hundred years ago I sat down on a Saturday night to watch the movie Marnie on network television. Understand this was the dawning of the age of VCRs. No Blockbuster. No Hollywood Video. No TiVo. No Netflix.

I'd never seen the movie before. I was in the basement of my parents' house watching on a portable black and white TV with adjustable rabbit ears. There were COMMERCIALS! I was in college dating the man I would ultimately marry. The phone rang. There was no caller ID. I don't think we even had an answering machine. 

It was my boyfriend (my eventual ex-husband). I explained that I was watching a movie and I'd call him back as soon as it was over. I really wanted to see how the film ended. Hitchcock, you know? You can't just walk away in the middle of it.

Thus began a lengthy discussion about my lack of love for him. Was he not more important than some old movie? Didn't I want to know how his shift at work had gone? Personal relationships are the bedrock of society. Television was destroying the world.

I argued. I cried. I swore my undying love. I begged, for the love of all that is holy, let me see what happens to Tippi Hedren!

By the time I disengaged from this ridiculous conversation, the movie was over. 

Fast forward to yesterday. I checked out a copy of Marnie from the library, and after my counseling session I sat down with my lunch to finally watch it all the way through. Oh my gosh! There's a reason I needed to see this movie to its conclusion. In many ways, the movie was trying to tell me my own story.

Let me tell you a little about me. I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I didn't know that at the time. I had repressed most of the experiences, and the one I did remember I couldn't label as abuse. My boyfriend was quirky, but he was a lot better than where I'd been, so I didn't hang up on him or tell him to take a flying leap. I just rode it out the best way I knew how. Twisting and turning emotionally trying to figure out how this had escalated from watching a movie to the depth of my devotion to him. 

"Mark marries Marnie although she is a habitual thief and has serious psychological problems, and tries to help her confront and resolve them." That's how iMDb summarizes the plot. Barely scrapes the top layer. 

Marnie is suffering from repressed memories, undiagnosed PTSD, flashbacks, and molestation among other things. She is frigid and can't bear to be touched by a man. She spouts religious rhetoric and acts out impulsively to deal with her unexplained issues. Mark is a cold fish who is a widower with an interest in zoological behavior. He suspects Marnie is up to something, but rather than confront her he lets the whole thing play out before he blackmails her into his loving (?) arms. And it just grows from there.

It's a masterpiece of a film, and it's no wonder it wasn't well received in 1964. A psychologically taut piece that was far ahead of its time. Nobody knew about PTSD and dissociation. Mark was trying to be a 1960s man and handle his woman. A firm hand, that's what she needed. Both Mark and Marnie are flawed characters aching for redemption.

I didn't have Marnie's coping mechanisms, and my ex-husband didn't have Mark's exact issues, but we had our own weird methods that were mirrored in the movie. He pushed me into therapy after years and years of digging at my psyche. He pushed and pushed and pushed until I finally broke down and went. And then he wanted a play by play of every session. That was nearly 17 years ago. 

By the time I finished the movie, I had a better understanding of what that argument had really been about all those years ago. I also had a pounding headache, upset stomach, and massive anxiety. After some medicine and relaxation, I realized how glad I was that I'd watched the movie all the way to the end this time.

(this is an edited repost from 8/11/15)

Kindness Counts

Write 31 Days Day #4

There is so much hurt in this world but it's intensified when it hits the ones you love! Be kind. Put others first. Apply the golden rule.

None of this seems difficult to me. Maybe that's why I have so much trouble with other people who struggle with kindness. I struggle with other things, but kindness seems to come naturally to me. I forget that we all have different skills and gifts.

My kids (yes, they are 27 and 24, but they'll always be kids) got hurt last night. Emotionally. There was no reason for it to happen except one person forgot to be kind. 

I can take being kicked around. I've had lots of practice, but don't go after my kids! Not much makes me angry (my therapist would like it if more things did!) but you go after my kids and Mama Bear shows up fast and furious!

I haven't done anything I regret, yet. I can't promise I won't though. 

We're missing the gift of kindness a lot more in this world of late. There's a book I read years ago, A Short Course in Kindness that I come back to time and time again. The subtitle is a little book on the importance of love and the relative unimportance of just about everything else. I'm thinking about buying it in bulk so I can hand out copies to random people. 

The guy who flipped me off in traffic today. The people who post on social media who just have to be right regardless of the cost to another person. Most of the people in politics and the media. The one person who hurt my kids.

I can't really afford to do that and there's no way to make someone read it, let alone understand and apply the lessons. So I'm back to one person at a time. Trying to show kindness even to those who are unkind. Finding that balance I see as taking the high road while not becoming a doormat. 

I've heard the saying Pretty is as pretty does my whole life. Maybe I'll start a new saying -- Kind is as kind does.

Blessings!

 

One Person at a Time

Write 31 Days #3

Maybe it's just a personal choice, not a one-size-fits-all? Find what works for you and do that, while being kind and compassionate toward ALL. Trying to turn everything into a soundbite or hashtag is part of the problem. Life, Christianity, and politics are multi-layered ideas and issues. Assume the best and treat everyone with respect. It's not easy, but it's worth it.

I wrote these words the other day in response to an article from Patheos.com entitled WWSD (What Would Satan Do): A New Grassroots Movement. 

Then I woke up Monday morning to the news of more violence in Las Vegas. A friend posted about a military aircraft crash in Mississippi. Another about children harmed in Memphis. And I spent the day in divorce mediation.

Things seem quite bleak.

And yet . . .

Jesus told us (and showed us) “'Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.' This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.” (Matt. 22:37-40 The Message)

All I can do is apply Jesus' teaching and example in ALL my interactions with ALL people.

I can't fix this broken world, but I can love it one person at a time.


Blessings!

linking up with Write 31 Days

Telling Stories

Write 31 Days #2

You are both the main character and narrator of your life. You may not have control over all your circumstances, but you can choose how to tell the story. 

-- Jonathan Adler

I've been asked to tell my story. Again. 

In reality, a friend offered me the opportunity to participate in a study and the form begins with "Please tell your story". 

Let me start by saying I hate the word "story" in this context. Adler's quote resonates with me because of its truth, but that doesn't mean I have to like his choice of "story". 

"Story" implies fiction to me, and I've  spent far too many years trying to convince myself of the veracity of my memories to let them be written off as a "story" at this point in my journey. Semantics. But I do get caught up in words.

I've used humor frequently when sharing my experiences, which is perverse given that there is nothing humorous about any of it. We all have our coping mechanisms. Humor isn't all bad, but it does create a wall around me that implies to the listener that I am fine. I am just fine. Which is not true. I am never fine when recounting my history.

Frequently I rely on what I like to call the Quick and Dirty version. Just enough detail to get the point across, but not enough to completely overwhelm my listener or reader, or to send me into fast-talking panic mode. It goes like this -- "I was sexually abused by 5 different people as a child, and raped twice as an adult." There that wasn't so hard, was it?

All of it has never been written down in one place or told in its entirety at one time. It's just too much for me to do, and I don't want to impose on anyone long enough to get it all out. It was real, real bad, okay?

Here is what is true -- I want to write it all done in excruciating detail. Every episode with every gory detail. I want someone to listen to me no matter how long it takes or how much I ramble. I want to watch them react in sadness and horror and grief. I want them to tell me it's not my fault, was never my fault. 

But there will never be enough assurances that it wasn't my fault. Not really. Because it happened, and I really don't think I'll ever completely erase the idea from my soul that I could have stopped it -- or kept it from ever starting -- or continuing. At least not this side of heaven. 

What I can do is be a listening ear or reading eyes for other people's "stories". I can keep telling my experiences as a way of reminding others that to be human is to have a need to make sense of what happens to us and around us. And it is in the telling that we make sense of our lives and connect with one another.

Blessings!

linking up with Write 31 Days

Reconnecting

Write 31 Days #1

Satan thrives on replaying our worst experiences and fears. In Never Unfriended, Lisa-Jo Baker calls it "spiritual torture" -- thoughts out of context.

Those middle of the night fears and thoughts aren't real, accurate, or true. They are jabs -- prods -- arrows from satan taking advantage of us at our most vulnerable moments. It is then that we must fight with all the tools we have assembled and practiced during the light of day when fear hides in the shadows unwilling to risk a frontal attack. Because fear prefers covert action.

I was raised in a conservative, Bible-based tradition. We memorized scripture, but it wasn't until I started trying to memorize scripture again as an adult, that I finally began to understand one of the benefits of it. As I child suffering from abuse, being judged on my ability to recite scripture was just another opportunity to fail and be judged harshly by others (whether in reality or only in my head). As an adult, memorizing scripture because I had chosen to do it, I learned the truth about memorization. It's not to impress anyone else. It doesn't make me a "better" Christian or more holy. What I found instead was the gift that memorization was to me, in my darkest moments. 

When fear clutches at me and I can respond with Jesus' words, there is no way for the fear to win. For months I have recited the Lord's Prayer after I turn off the light as I go to bed. At first, I felt I was using it as a mantra or a spell of some sorts, worrying that God would be angry with me for misusing scripture. (If that sounds a bit nutty to you, all I can say is, abuse does weird stuff to your processing skills!). Over time I came to understand that using Jesus' words, God's words, in this way are part of the gift God has provided in giving me a personal savior. Jesus experienced personal, human pain and betrayal, and so he understands my human pain and betrayal. 

There is a lot of change and challenging thinking going on in my world right now. I've been absent here for quite some time, as life made it impossible to be here. I've missed it. I've missed the opportunity to write out my thoughts and feelings. Write 31 Days is just what I've needed to get back here, for me. Unlike most of the writers in this group, I don't have a plan (I'm not very good at planned writing under the best of circumstances!), but I'm here. And I plan to be here every day for the rest of the month. 

Blessings!

linking up with Write 31 Days

Coming Soon

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