emotional manipulation revisited

This is a long post, but hopefully you will find a few gems in it that may help you.  I know it's helped me understand it more deeply as I've written it....... put it aside, and then returned to it again and again.  

 I've been plugging away at it one and off for a year!  Why?  Well, of all of the topics I've posted on this blog, the one piece that is "googled" the most  (at least 4-5 times daily!) was one I wrote about over two years ago.  I continue to receive emails and comments from people all over the world who are trying to find the answers to dealing with an Emotional Manipulator in their lives.......... whether its a friend, a lover, a partner, a family member...... they are seeking out answers, looking for some understanding as to what is happening in their lives.  It is a messy topic....... one that comes from the dark side of us.  We can all relate.

We can all manipulate.  We all have this skill in us.  However, there are human beings out there, who are masters of this way of being.  For whatever reason, their lives and their internal wiring lead them into interacting with others using games and mind benders.  To me, they are one of the most difficult individuals to help.  Their needs are bottomless.  Their tactics are so hurtful.  Their ability to take ownership of their behaviour is flawed because more times than not, they don't believe there is a darn thing wrong with them.  It's the rest of the world that is messed up..........

This post is written based on my own experiences, observations, and studies.  I believe self awareness as well as the awareness of the symptoms and sickness is our best attempt as looking after ourselves.  

My first experience happened with a first boyfriend....... age 16.  He had unrelenting anxiety issues and became so ill he couldn't attend school.  I juggled both his homework and my own, trying to be helpful.  He would respond by telling me that if I broke up with him, he would kill himself.  This is where my first learning took place.  I continued on in that toxic relationship for an extra year out of fear.   No one has the right to put their life in your lap!  Oh guess what?  He lived! And every now and then, I receive an email from him at 3 am.  Out of the blue.  My stomach does backflips all these years later when I see his name in my in-box!  Crazy!!

IF we can see it, feel it, hear it, we can make the decisions to get out of the way.  We have choices........ always.  No matter what the consequences are.

____________________________________________________________

bleeding heart........

Its amazing how quickly we are drawn to the drinking fountain that spills the nectar we crave and not even recognize its damaging consequences until the sweetness rots a hole into our hearts.  Its amazing how quickly we sidestep into the same dance moves despite the fact that the music beat seems completely different than the past.  You'd think we'd learn to stay clear of these trappings.  But cravings stilt our thinking while heightening our feelings to a point where they begin to control the choices we make.  We get drawn in as fast as flames up the chimney.

SWOOSH!  Off balance and confused by the swaying persuasion of a person who uses emotionally charged tactics to get what they want, we succumb to the hypnotic allure of their game. We become victimized and are held hostage by a professional victim who knows our weak points and knows how to use an arsenal of Emotion DARTS that target our weak points  Its like playing chess with a master.  The problem is..... in the rush to play the game, we don't recognize fast enough that we have become one of his Pawns. 

How does this happen so quickly?  How do we end up emotionally tied to another person who craves control because they don't feel like they have any in their life?  How do we recognize the manipulator who smoothly uses mind manoeuvering techniques like a tonic we choose to drink?  Why does this seem to happen more often to people who are kind and full of goodness?  How do we become enablers in a game you will never win?  

The way I see it AND believe it?  It comes down to the idea that we are getting some of our own personal needs met!  

Lots of questions!  Lots of ruminations!  LOTS of time spent trying to find your footing with professional victims who use the terror filling tactics of emotional game playing. 

Ask yourself.............. Is what I am doing to help one of these victims getting me what I want??  What do I want?   What are my needs?

Ask yourself......... Which of the most important relationships in my life are spiritually and emotionally healthy? What is is about them that make them feel healthy?  Why are they healthy?  Is there a respectful balance of give and take?

 

Ask youself.... Which ones are toxic?  IN what ways are they toxic?  Why?  What am I getting out of it?

Ask yourself......... What role do I play in the push and pull of a relationship that may not be a healthy one?  What am I sacrificing of myself and my life to try to maintain/fix/change the relationship? 

We all have the same needs.  According to William Glasser, Choice Theory guru guy, our needs fall into 5 categories.  Survival, Love and Belonging, Control/Empowerment, Freedom and Fun.  That's it.  5 needs.  5 goblets...... filled or not.  If one of our goblets is nearing empty, our actions, according to Dr. Glasser focus on re-filling the need goblet.   It affects how we think, feel emotionally, feel physically and act.  In other words, it tints the lens we use to look out at the world around us because we crave to fill the emptiness.

For example, if  Love and Belonging needs goblet is empty,  thoughts turn to conjuring up statements like....."I'm unlovable.  I'm ugly.  I'm alone.  No one loves me....Nobody cares that I'm even alive." This is the biggie!!!  Emotional feelings may sour into loneliness, shame, sadness, anxiety, rejection, anger.  Physical feelings turn to hunger, belly aches, headaches, energy heaviness.  Every ache and pain is felt, which in turn twists thinking into morbidity.  

Actions??  They can run the gamut.  You may slink away into my bed and succumb to depression, or you may become the busiest butterfly flitting out and about with a broken wing in search of love. OR, if you are aware of what's happening and what the need is, you may choose a much more balanced healthier approach.  You reach out to others.  You get into counselling. You start up a project or immerse yourself in a hobby.  You learn to be still and find happiness with your own company.  

Instant gratification through sex, food, alcohol, online sexual risk taking with others out in the mean world.  It comes down to looking for that elusive unconditional love but only ever finding love with conditions.  With rules.  With "do this" and I will love you conditions.  Its amazing how far we will go to seek out love...... to feel a sense of oneness and belonging ........... to rid ourselves of our misfit persona.  Values be damned when we are empty vessels in need of affirmation.

When my "love and belonging" needs have been depleted,  I am vulnerably open to tripping into the kind of relationship that will devour instead of soothe. I try to MAKE the relationship work even if it is toxic.  They will use their manipulative charm to get their own needs met.... empowerment, control and maybe even love and belonging too!  At first glance, it appears that this relationship is a healthy partnership..... I'll scratch my back, you scratch mine scenario.  But, when you are dealing with someone whose "need cups" can never be filled..... when they are a bottomless pit of need, there is no give and take balance.  The relationship runs amok..... as the game of give, give, give and take, take, take continues until the giver has nothing left and the taker remains hungry for more.  

give, give, give......

take, take, take.....

the giver pulls away, trying to look after themselves

the taker reacts by uttering demands, threats... even to a point where they say they will harm themselves.  Even to a point where they DO harm themselves......... all in a ploy to shake up the guilt and shame of the Giver. 

We are not dealing with a person who is healthy.  Chances are, there is serious mental health issues simmering under the surface.  But, they are smart.  The anger and aggression eventually rise up through their skin, but days and weeks can go by when all seems so serene!   They need professional intervention.  Sadly, Emotional Manipulators are the last ones who will ever admit there is something wrong with them. They are professional victims. The world is out to get THEM. 

So, we need to look after ourselves.  Like they say before the plane takes off, we need to put our oxygen masks on first before we can attempt to help someone.  We need to be aware of our own needs .... this is Emotional Awareness.  This is Emotional Literacy!  Read on!!!

If all of our behaviour is our best attempt at fulfilling our needs, how much control do we have over our actions?  A heck of a lot more than we do trying to control the actions of others or their needs. We may be the most "aware" person in the whole world, sometimes our needs drive us blindly down some thorny paths even if we think we are being careful.  And the worst thorny path to find yourself tumbling down is one that is owned by an emotional manipulator.  

More often than not, this is the foundation of domestic violence, which  INCLUDES more than a husband and wife scenario.   Domestic violence  includes elder abuse, child versus parent abuse, parent/child abuse, sibling violence, extended family abuse.  Emotional, physical, sexual or a combination of all.   More often than not, the manipulators who take advantage of our goodness are family.  I've experienced it first hand through marriage.  I've read about it, studied it, and have helped others in counselling sessions try to come to terms with it.  Emotional Literacy is lifelong learning.......  I am a student.  I hope you are too. 

Incredibly smart but sadly their self image is badly damaged, people who play with someone else's emotional stability are not only difficult to recognize right away, they will never admit the games they play.  In fact, they often feign victimhood.  This is their defence. This is their "comfort zone" they fall into when they feel any sense of wrongdoing.  They are bullies seething on the verge of some serious mental health issues.  Sadly, Sociopathic behaviour remains elusive in terms of change and treatment because an Emotional Manipulator is the last person to admit there is anything wrong with them.

No one is immune to the twisty turns of a person who has the smarts to turn a relationship into one of victim and aggressor.  All we can do is be aware of our boundaries as well as our own needs.  We have to learn to protect ourselves, learn how to walk away, let go and be firm about our own health and safety.  This is very difficult to do when one is the kind of person who is considered a helper.... a doer.......... a person who has a lot of love to share.  It is almost impossible to do when the person who has NEEDS that have no bottom pit is a family member or a lover.  But, it is doable.  Usually after many attempts and situations...... we do reach a place of readiness to put down the rules!  To learn to let go and let it be rather than losing your own freedom and empowerment in your own life.  

We do have the power to offer love and compassion while not getting entangled  in the web of psychological destruction.  We do not have the power to "save" another person from their own machinations, threats and self harm when they don't want to change.  Tragically...........

Love is out there.  Good love.  Healthy love.  Humans can provide this for other humans, though we are not perfect.  When two people meet, they bring along their "needs" goblets........... its a merging of the head and heart.  A blending of goodness and compasion as well as empathy for one another is reachable.   And our guide to showing us what unconditional love is and how it can be reciprocated?  God.

Look after yourself.  See the toxic relationships through the a clarification lens.  It may take a long time to let go of the threads that bind.  No doubt it may be one of the most painful decisions to make because it leads to actions that may even feel inhumane to you at first.  Get support around you, whether its through friends, family and/or professional help.  Lean on your faith. Know there will be grieving.  Sadness.  Guilt. Shame.  Be aware that it may even feel selfish to think of yourself first.  It's all there.  It goes against the grain of our compassionate hearts.  But, it comes down to the fulfilling the very basic need of all........... Survival.  Your own.  

Little Rosie red shoes.....

Confident little Rosie
Her shoes a snappy red
Sailed happily into my office
With fifteen braids upon her head.
As she slurped and sipped her purple drink
Her eyes were big and green
Her smile as wide as a sideways moon
Dimples deeper than I’ve ever seen.

Charming poise…………

And as I chatted with her mom
In serious adult tones
Rosie displayed her creative side
With markers I had loaned.
She drew circles, lines and zigzags
And then a picture of herself
She folded them up in letters
And placed them on the shelf.

“For mailing!”

The happy pictures that she drew
Revealed nothing from real life
That her mom described emotionally
Details of violent family strife.
Yelling, hitting and accusations
Were the family norm
Until the day dad crossed the line
Creating a furious storm.

Black eyes of defeat……..

It woke her mom who had to act
To protect her children from more harm
They fled to a transition house
A place that’s safe and warm.
They started to heal and plan a life
Cocooned from harms way.
And throughout the constant upheaval
Rosie smiled throughout the day.

It was her job…………

Our conversation carried on
Her mom in need of care
Their lives were filled with turmoil
Under a continuous vicious glare
And when the talk grew too serious
Rosie lunged for the bright spotlight
Displaying resilient showmanship
Smiling with all her might.

Buoyant determination….

Rosie’s only “free and a half”
But she’s got important work to do
She’s decided it’s been left to her
To shield her mom from the blues
So, she dances, talks and acts upbeat
Our attention she demands
By drawing purple polka dots
On her chubby arms and hands.

Performing Arts……….

The absurdity of the moment
Was not lost on Mom nor I
We stopped and laughed at this little clown
Whose got a twinkle in her eye.
Adult conversation then led to distant hope
Of future dreams ahead
A calming equilibrium
Desired by all who still feel dread.

Toddler optimism…….

The adult talk began to cease
Time to venture out to the street
Rosie finished her last masterpiece
That she wanted me to keep.
I thanked her and asked for a hug
She exuberantly complied
I told her I wanted to take her home
She stopped me in my stride.

Enthusiastic embrace……….

A serious look crept on her face
As she snuggled on my lap
It was up to her to shield her mom
From more cruel mishaps
"My mom needs me," she said
"I have to go home with her
To look after her when she cries
And keep away the monster."

Toddler responsibilities……it’s her job.

When they are home alone at night
Violent demons start to prey
This family snuggles in one bed
Seeking safety ‘til the light of day
Soon one day they will gain the strength
To move forward without the fear
Sadly they’ll carry their wounds and scars
Underneath their brave veneer.

No one will ever know………

_____________________________________

This is the third "red" installment..... Rosie red...... for Carmi's photo theme this week.

I chose to republish this poem which I wrote after I met this resilient little girl and her mother a few years back. They had just finally escaped a seriously violent situation and were re-claiming peace and tranquility in their lives. Sadly, I don't think Rosie had ever known any other kind of life until then. Though I never saw this little one again, she remains in my heart. I often think of her and send good peaceful thoughts up into the air in hopes that they find her.

November is Family Violence Awareness month in New Brunswick. It still remains a silent killer inside the homes of many who live on our street, around the corner, across town..... inside the homes of human beings we may even work beside day in and out. Awareness is the key to eradicating abuse. No one has the right to abuse another human being. NO ONE.

bully, bully.

A bully is a bruised leader with a heart that bleeds weeping nails of steel. Sadly, they don't know that they are leaders because they are too busy starring in the role of raging victim, poking holes in the souls of others. Their pattern of behaviour which ranges from brutal physical attacks to sneering body language is frighteningly abusive. They lead by overblown power.

So, how do we help those bruised bullies transform into effective leaders?

Through relationship building by finding a way to past the chrome shield that protects the heart from being hurt again.

Through fostering emotional literacy and spiritual awareness.

Through effective listening and teaching how to express emotions productively and appropriately.

Through recognition and affirmation of their stories.

Through mentoring empathy, respect for others, and kindness.

By showing how to be responsible for one's actions........ to STOP and THINK before impulsively acting out from an emotionally charged place.

By developing trust, and nurturing this fragile essence in another.

well, that's a start.........................

Patterns of behaviour are very difficult to break if what you do gets you what you want..........

restless secrets

Hold on tight to your restless secrets if you want to. Sadly, I'm sorry to inform you they have a way of showing their true colours........ your body can't hide the stories. Your mind rattles outward, rippling your body restlessness in discomfort. Mystery reveals itself in your.......
sighing wandering woes
fretful fearful legs
skipping heartbeats
ringing ears
swollen joints
blurry vision
agitated guts
itchy skin
itchy skin
refreshed....and you keep scratching.........
itchy skin
itchy soul leaving you unable to focus.

Restless secrets gripe and groan the loudest just when you think no one's paying attention. When you relax. They spit reality onto your pillow of dreams.... in illusionary rainbow arcs. Try to keep them quiet and they will feast like head lice under your hair covered scalp belching in shameful agony.

Shame has a way of shooting out of sleeping thoughts. They retch up unspoken murmurs and swirl in a devilish weave of desire. Inside the brokenness of pain where ache feeds on restless secrets, your conscience rattles with tight lipped disdain. Denial simply stretches skin into a thin throbbing membrane disturbed by the unrelenting obsession to bleed........
Let it bleed.
Let the bleeding come.
Let it come
Come out! For God's sake!

"Deny yourself," said the Carpenter through your sleeping fog.
"Deny yourself.........."
What did He mean by that???

Restless secrets never sleep. They moan through silent dreaming and rise out of the foggy facade in the kingdom of makeothersbelieve. Your sorry storybooks are filled with tampered truth, with dormant devils of dismissed denials. Transparency blathers out the truth.

Let sleep linger on
Let sleep linger on and on...
And while you forever linger in the taut grip of a hot tightrope of fantasy napping, try your best to stay inside the sleepy mystery where your ruminating imagination soothes unspoken thoughts wrapped up in innocence past its due date.
let sleep linger....if you can.
Ignore, deny, suppress, create stories, try to live on.
My God, it's draining your energy.......

But,
If you open your eyes,
If you open your sores to dashes of salty sting reality
BE PREPARED
for wet spitting dreams on your pillow.
spit.
disgust.

You may not know yet but........
your mask slipped off.
That facade is a fateful fallacy.
And all I can feel is
sorry for you.

All I wanted was the truth. Was that so wrong?

If only you could poke at those swollen secrets
Make them blabblabblabblab away with relentless seeping
If only you could give them air
Give them life
Let those fucking secrets breathe
You'd be set free.
If only......what is stopping you???

Truth will set you free................. no matter what the cost.
no matter what the cost.
The freedom of your soul is more important than the restless secrets you keep.
It's never too late.
Never too late....

Pssssst.... guess what?
If you do decide to come clean....?
You will still be loved.
Unconditionally.

gimme shelter....

How does someone living in the land of plenty end up living in squalor down by the river? How does a human being grow up only to be discarded, abandoned, invisible and forgotten? I took these photos of a small outdoor nesting place for a few homeless people in the city of Fredericton. Located down by the edge of the Saint John River, so close to the Delta Hotel that you could shoot your spit and it would most likely hit the bricks. Haves and Have Not's residing as neighbours. The Have Not's know it. The Haves are oblivious. The neighbour on the other side? The Lieutenant Governor's mansion. Nice......

The area is referred to by government and community organizations, and the media as "tent city." Its hardly a city when you compare it to the excessively enormous shanty towns and makeshift communities under overpasses in larger centres. But, it is what it is....a home for the homeless, the transients......the human beings who have either chosen to live outside rather than in, or who cannot and will not abide by the rules of the local Shelters.

If you were walking quickly, or biking leisurely along this portion of the Trans Canada trail, chances are you wouldn't notice the hidden pathways leading to small clearings where human beings have congregated. Summer fauna overlaps the entrances and keeps the secrets behind the leaves...... sort of. Attention has been given to the handful of homeless people by a locally formed committee that was set up to "deal" with the issue. Deemed as dangerous and unsafe due to mental illness, addictions, lawlessness, there is an urgency to rectify the "problem" by finding alternative living arrangements.

There are some who want to use strong tactics to get these "filthy dirty addicts..." out of the city altogether. Put them on a bus.... move them to another town. Get rid of the problem. Quick and clean...resolve the issue by pushing it on. This "approach" reeks of impatience and disregard. No time or interest in finding out why another human being has fallen so far down and away from "functioning in the community" or being "self-sufficiently independent," these strongarmed bureaucrats see them as an issue that needs to be managed. No time to be curious or to see how beneficial it would be to connect in some way with these Tent people in order to learn WHY and WHAT HAPPENED...... They probably spend more time discussing what colour their new office furniture is going to be than truly caring enough to take the time to understand the individual human beings who have fallen.

There are others who sit across from the strongarm types who are quick to say...... Give them housing. They bark out their politics to anyone who will listen .... the issue is not enough affordable housing. The government doesn't have enough affordable housing!! Oh yeah, if only we had a place to park them that would solve the problem, now wouldn't it? hmmmmm......... no. It's not that simple. It also isn't that simple just to pour money into a bottomless pit with no foundation either. Housing doesn't make a home.

If we had all the money in the world, would the issue of homelessness be solved?

Homelessness is a symptom of a much larger systemic problem where one social service department or agency works in a silo providing their goods, while another offers up another package of goods and no one communicates effectively. Communities don't get off scot free either. Its not just a "problem" for the public sector to manage! Everyone plays a role because it isn't an "issue" that has to be solved. It's not a "problem" that has an easy fix answer like some math equation.

A person living on the streets, or down by the river, or in a tent in the woods, on a park bench, in a car, under a bridge, may have a handful of people whom they receive some form of assistance from. Social assistance, food, methadone, addictions counselling, shelter options, medical assistance. Sadly, not one of those helping frontline people have the capacity within the confines of their job description to fully assist this human being. Why? Time. Work constraints. Designated roles and responsibilities don't allow for it. Lack of genuine political will. Lack of financial resources. Community fear. Bias.

So, the perpetual problem continues...... and every now and then when the neighbourhood raises their ire, or when the Queen comes to town the issue of homelessness hits the front page of the local newspaper. Then, it dies down.......... becomes invisible and the human being Have Not's are lost beyond the margins, away from any attention.

Autumn is now here...... and the nights are colder.

Assault captured on video.....

Sometimes I wonder if my friend Charles the crazy man blogger has 5 identical clones gallavanting around this town documenting everything from sunsets to festivals, from corruption to brutality. He is everywhere, capturing the unfolding life stories and events and posting them on his blog, often before the mainstream media has had a chance to get out of bed!
As you may recall, I recently wrote a piece about Charles Leblanc and his trip to the courthouse to after a spring incident when he was arrested for walking on the hallowed grounds of the legislature during a local protest to save winter access to MacTaquac Park. Charles' trip to court that day resulted in finding out he wasn't even on the docket despite being informed that he was to show up on that date. Since then, the ridiculous charges have been quietly dropped. And throughout it all, he continued to do what he does best...... documenting the events of this city. He NEVER goes anywhere without his trust camera.

Yesterday on the local news, we learned of a young man, a Canadian soldier named Luc Begin, was out celebrating his recent engagement to his girlfriend at a local night spot. He has filed a complaint over how he was mistreated. Mistaken for someone else who had been in that bar a couple of weeks ago, the Fredericton police force went into action to arrest him. Charles just happened to be there and captured the whole viciously brutal scene on video. He was left bruised and battered and was thrown in jail and not taken to the hospital even after he blacked out from the beating. Charles' efforts will be prime evidence in Monsieur Begin's case. It is highly unlikely this altercation has no chance of being covered up.

Here is a link to his blog and the video...........

As of this moment, the story remains at the local Maritime level. I predict it will be picked up nationally by the end of the day.......... that's if anyone's paying attention. And rightly so. We all need to witness the treatment of another human being, a soldier no less, at the hands of our "finest."

Charles? You have helped this man more than you know. Thank God you're out there. Just stay safe will you and stay out of the alleyways??

what is it all about?

Another Canadian soldier died today from a homemade bomb of hatred. A married father of three daughters. A man who was an elite human soldier from the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry..... Corporal Nicholas Bulger. They played an interview with him on Canada Day and he spoke of how different it was to be in Afghanistan because he sees how much of a difference our Armed Forces are making. He stated that he saw it when he watched the children play freely when they once weren't able to. "When you look into the eyes of the children, you get a different perspective...." he said. A different perspective.... we could all use a bit of that kind of insight.

I think he saw human universality. He could relate to those children because it connected him to what he knows and sees here, on his home turf of Canada. It was obvious that it touched his heart with inspirational motivation, and in turn it touched me. I connected to this soldier because I was able to see and hear him ..... I heard his emotions .... heard his human-ness. And because I connected from my heart, I am saddened by his passing at a deeper level. I understand what he meant.

One Canadian man died today. 5 other soldiers were injured from the same blast. They were all members of Brigadeer General Jonathan Vance's technical team who toured sites with him, protecting him, reacting to any threats, responding to violence. Every death of a soldier is sad no matter what side of the trench he/she is on. Every death of an innocent victim is sad. Every death from the suffering of conflict is sad.

Violence prevails on every corner of our planet in some capacity or another. It's been there from the beginning of man, which makes me acknowledge to myself that we all have the potential to be violent. Even if I choose not to be, I still have it in me. Everyone does. So, what is it in a person to allow the violence to surface? What lies underneath the ACT? What is it that feeds hate which in turn flames a war? The only thing I can think of is a festering fear.....a fear so intense and so unresolved that it ferments in its own seething irrationality.

What do you fear the most? What are you most frightened of? It's good to know. It's important to consider what it is you fear and why...... AND how it impacts your choices and how you see others, both in your own neighbourhood and beyond. You can't work on those fears if you won't even begin to take a look at them. And they will fester....and they DO impact your choices and your lens. No one is exempt from this.....

I have been haunted by the photo Paul posted on his blog this week.....a man holding a mortally wounded child in blood stained clothes, his body contorted in death... his innocent face striped in his own blood. Maybe before this boy was injured, he was able to somehow get lost in some form of play? Even under those circumstances? I don't know.

The man is carrying this young one (his son? his neighbour's son? his nephew? a stranger to him?) along the drydirt path beside the wall that keeps them in and away from basic necessities, in the line of fire. Violence prevails. It prevails on both sides of the wall only the humans within the cement fortification have no choice but to attempt to survive as prisoners, as sitting targets of violence. Innocents suffer. There are no words.

What fear feeds this hatred? What anguish sucks the marrow out of love? Frightened of the other? Is that it? War and violence stem from our incessant fear of someone who is different? Different religion, different culture, different way of interacting in this world?

I read a story Jean Vanier conveyed about a Jewish woman named Etty Hillesum who died in Auschwitz at the age of 29. In her journal after she had been yelled at by a Gestapo officer, she wrote: "I felt no indignation, rather a real compassion and would like to ask: 'Did you have a very unhappy childhood, has your girlfriend let you down?'"

There she was in a place of living Hell, but she had an abiding belief that each person is a "house" where God resides. She believed that every single person had the potential to carry the mystery of God within the essence of being able to love and to be loved. Through that lens, she saw the beauty in every individual. Etty Hillesum, Vanier wrote, is one of the people who has influenced him the most. I bet Etty projected a calm sense of kindness and compassion as her approach to combatting the hatred fueled in the hearts of the Gestapo who ruled Auschwitz. Through believing in compassion.......one always feels forgiveness.....

I wish we could teach this. I wish we could believe in the power of compassion and kindness....of empathy. I wish we could live by the belief that all human beings are loved and can love. If we have the propensity to be violent, than we all have the propensity to be loving. Right?

We could erradicate the fermentation of irrational fears and turn it into wine instead. Wine to sip and share...... If we really want to. We have to start at looking at our own fears....! Then the very idea of making a bomb wouldn't even be considered. Then maybe walls would come down and little boys could play within the safe haven of their peaceful neighbourhoods. Then we wouldn't continue to mourn the loss of human beings struck down by the violence of wars. But how? How do we turn this world around so that people stop spitting venom and hatred at one another? I think it begins by looking into the eyes of the other. Just like Corporal Nicholas Bulger did with the Afghanistan children. It changed his perspective.
It can change our own. When was the last time you truly looked into the eyes of another human being? It may make all the difference.

______

This week's prompt at Sunday Scribblings is "human." To see more contributions, check out their blog.

through the eyes of a new fan.....

Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter
Togetherness, well that's all I'm after
Whenever you need me, I'll be there
I'll be there to protect you,
with an unselfish love that respects you
Just call my name and I'll be there
The Jackson 5

Sometime during the winter, my 11 year old son began to discover the music of Michael Jackson. This is the same age I discovered him. Max was mesmerized by the dance moves and the music from the Thriller and Off the Wall albums, intrigued by the enormity of Jackson's success and full of questions about the weirdness of the man's lifestyle. He was in awe of Jackson's voice and his ability to move like he had the power to defy gravity. The style and swagger.....the energy and magic of the music which washed over this globe, created by a brilliantly talented human being was alive and well, captured for a new generation to discover. His music was uploaded onto an 11 year old's I-pod to savour.

Personally, I had stopped listening to the stories and bizarre activities surrounding Michael Jackson, had completely stepped away from even paying attention to him because of his behaviour and over the top weirdness. To me, it felt like a carnival freak show, created for the most part by an unrelenting fan base and a media which would never let go. The man/boy in the bubble choked on his extravagant success, turning himself into a distant recluse locked away from reality, surrounded by a hoard of handlers who treated him like an alien. It was like watching a slow motion train wreck that took 35 years to reach the point when we all watched him shuffle into a courtroom in his pyjama pants. Are there words to capture his demise? Sad? Pathetic? No, it was more mind boggling than words could convey.

My son hadn't heard all of the stories yet.......the ongoing accusations and acquittals the millions of dollars spent in "settlements," the flamboyant spending on everything from Elephant Man remains to renting the top floor of luxury hotels in Vegas, and the strange reclusive behaviour. Photos and videos however, revealed Jackson's transformation from a handsome young man with a gleam in his eye and a talent that knew no boundaries to a hideous looking shell of a human being whose hair draped a face that was otherwordly....whose sunglasses and veils hid him from light.

Like every single one of us, Max had many questions, most of which remain unanswered. What happened? Why did it happen? Who in their right mind would perform over 50 plastic surgeries on another human being who obviously was mentally ill and live with themself ? Who are these doctors who wrote numerous prescriptions for pain killers turning Jackson into a zombie like addict? Where the hell were his friends? Were they all living in their own pathetic fame filled bubbles that they didn't feel they could approach him, arrange for help.....?

My son and I talked occasionally about Michael Jackson.....I told him stories of how amazing the Jackson 5 were, how huge Jackson's albums were when they were first released....how at age 11 I was a huge fan! I tried to explain what I thought had happened to him in the ensuing years, but how do you explain to someone such mystery? Still, the music prevailed, and overshadowed the wacko jacko-ness of one very disturbed sick man. My son became a fan.

Last evening, Max came rushing upstairs.......his eyes popping out of his head and a look of shock on his face to inform me that the King of Pop had been rushed to the hospital and was in a coma. At first I didn't think it was serious. I figured maybe Jackson fainted or something from exhaustion prepping for his London concerts. It didn't surprise me....the most recent photos revealed a man who seemed to be a walking thin shell of himself, not the high energy consummate performer who always looked completely "in the zone" happy on stage. But, within minutes, the same media who helped turn Jackson into an untouchable were announcing his death. In the middle of what we all know will be an unstoppable barrage of stories, accolades, interpretations all stemming from the phoniness of Hollywood...... I heard a new 11 year old fan say....

"I think I will remember this day for the rest of my life." I believe he will. It is one of those moments when an event outside of your own realm interupts and leaves something indelible in one's memory. Like Elvis. Like Diana. Like RFK. Like JFK. Like Martin Luther King. All for different reasons.... but a stopping before and after recognition that you will remember where you were when you heard the news. For my son. For many I imagine.

Michael Jackson, the most famous entertainer in the world whose behaviour and secret life far outshines any head shaving meltdown Britney could throw into the tabloids..... the man whose arrested development shackled him to Neverland and a life of relating to Lost Boys.... was a true genius. Painfully, his orbiting success and his deep wounds left from abuse and never being able to know what normal is, ate at his soul and left him behind a veil. No doubt we will be living it and reading about it all.... hearing it dredged up on talk shows and news shows until we want to vomit.

Looking out across the morning
The city�'s heart begins to beat
Reaching out, I touch her shoulder
I'�m dreaming of the street .......

Can you imagine never having a chance to walk down a street all by yourself with a sense of smiling anonymity? Jackson's song Human Nature captures his desire to just be normal..... to walk on the street, to "take a bite of an apple....." So , so sad. For all of his success, Michael Jackson was the loneliest human being on the planet.

The eternal Lost Boy? May he rest in peace. May he find the freedom his life never offered him. Let his music transcend this craziness and sadness of his life and the predictable dissection of it after his death. Let his music be discovered through the eyes, ears and heart of a new fan for years to come.

shameful entitlement....

Ana left her home in the Philipines not because she wanted to, but out of desperation. Her husband was hurt in an accident on the worksite. There was no money and no option. She had to find work to keep her family afloat and the only way to do that was to move to a country far away and far different than the climes of her home....Canada....to look for work as a live in caregiver. She knew many others from her village who had made the trek and were working full time for families with room and board covered on top of a salary. They left with the same goal....to save all their money to send home to their destitute families, with the dream of eventually move them to the land of milk and honey.

With very little in personal possessions and a pocketful of hope and enough money to pay for a plane ticket and a few days accomodation when she landed, Ana hugged her 5 children, her husband and boarded a plane. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. She had no idea when she would see her children again. Left in the care of her own mother, including a toddler she had just weaned from her breast, Ana held onto her faith with all her might, and tried not to look back.

As soon as she arrived on foreign soil covered in ice and snow she had never seen before, she was quickly embraced by other Philipino women who took her under their wing and arranged for her to be registered with a government agency. Soon, she was hired to look after an elderly woman who had just been released from the hospital after death defying surgery. She was frail and weak after years of alcohol addiction, and had lost much of her desire to live. Dementia was setting in as well. Unable to attend to her own personal care, Ana was the sole person responsible for this woman's well being. Unbeknownst to her, Ana soon learned that this woman's husband also needed attention as his health too was deteriorating from Alzheimer's and recent hip replacement surgery which didn't heal properly.

The woman who hired Ana and oversaw her hours of employment and paycheck was the daughter of these two needy people. She took her own responsibility seriously, so much so that she chose to hold her power over Ana at every waking moment. Knowing that Ana had to live and work in Canada as a caregiver for three years before she would qualify for any type of immingrant status, this boss woman took advantage of the fear instilled in Ana. Condescension and powermongering were the chosen tactics. Passive aggressive threats were common. Ana was coerced to believe that she should be grateful completely to her new employer, even though she was never given a day off for months until some intervention from other family members took place. And even then, she paid for their voiced concerns when they were too far away to protect her.

Every two weeks Ana sent home the majority of her paycheck. And every two weeks, she was allowed to leave the house for 1/2 a day reprieve. After a year of this treatment, one of the other family members, who wasn't legally and rightfully supposed to be involved in the day to day goings on in his own parent's home, demanded that Ana receive enough time off to return to the Philipines to see her family. This "intervention" was held over Ana's head and held as a deep anger grudge by the woman in charge.

What kept Ana going was the knowledge that she was appreciated and loved by the other family members who had no legal recourse to help her, but were always just a phone call away. What kept her going was her family in the Philipines whom she loved dearly and who needed her to make the money to allow them to live and eat and survive. What kept her going was the prospect of a better life one day in the near future.

Over the course of two years, Ana, who was hired to look after one aging and needy person, cared for two demanding dependent people with many needs and accumulating health issues. On top of that, she cleaned and cooked. She shopped on her days off, ran errands too without the luxury of a vehicle to use and dealt with anything in the home that needed attention or repairs. Near the end of her tenure, their health issues became more and more grave. Visits and repreives were offered whenever the other family members of this elderly couple could fly to her assistance, but in between those times, she was on her own. It was stressful, debilitating, and inhumane what she had to endure. And there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it to change things because the person in charge was the person in charge who was the power of attorney. The continuous threats were harsh and unbelievably unforgivable.

There is much more to this story, but I can't find the words yet to finish it. It was one of the worst experiences I have been connected to and it haunts me to this day. One day, I will write out all the sordid and sorrowful details of how badly this woman was treated, but not yet. Today, beautiful Ana comes to mind very vividly, two years after my in laws passed away because of the recent story in the news about Ruby Dhalla, Member of Parliament from Ontario who is still in the process of trying to clear her name and reputation after two very brave and very scared women from the Philipines came forward to describe how they were treated by Dhalla and her family while they were employed by them to care for an aging parent. Like Ana, they were threatened and expected to work like slaves.

I am sickened by this story because it hits too close to home and has dredged up raw pictures in my recent memory of a time when I was powerless to do anything about it. I know how difficult it would've been for these two caregivers to come forward knowing full well that it might be the end of their dreams of remaining in Canada and bringing their poverty stricken families to live here. I know full well how the "system" works and how quickly they could be sent straight home, left off in the margins by the people who should be working for the government to make sure they are treated with equality and dignity and respect. I know how many threats they have endured already, as the shining star beautiful Liberal MP scrambles to save her ass from political annihilation.

I wholeheartedly believe the women and what they described.....I wholeheartedly believe that they were forced to do work they weren't hired to do, they were forced to listen to a Ruby Princess who grew up fed on sugared slices of entitlement talk down to them, yell at them, and demand they hand over their passport. I bet there were threats to call the Immigration office, and to ruin their reputations with the government agency who originally referred them. This, I'm afraid is commonplace in the world of Philipino caregivers. For them to come forward and testify at an inquiry created overnight by a hungry government willing to take advantage of a faux pas of the opposition is one of the bravest actions I've heard of in a very long time.

Ruby Dhalla? Bollywood is calling you again. I'm sure they will have a part for you as Princess Entitlement. Your time as an elected official is up. And your dream of becoming leader of the Liberal party has evaporated. Oh, and if you need an assistant or someone to play the role of lady in waiting in your next film? I've got just the right person for you. She too thrives on the flavour of entitlement. The two of you are meant for one another.

As for Ana's old boss? She forfeited her family and she will never be invited into my house again. Ever.

You know what makes me hold my head in shame as I shake it back and forth? These people have no inkling...NO INKLING that they have done anything wrong. In fact, they consider themselves victims. It makes me want to vomit.