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.

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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.  

cloudy clarity.

One of the most difficult daily tasks I must do right now as I push through this home mess is go to work. But, I must and I do, and I have. Actually, I kind of see the imperative structure of my daily routine and the kind of work that I do as both a blessing and a curse. Counselling is a tiring job on a good day. Counselling when you are in dire need of resolving your own shit is whole other kettle of fish.

Apart from the sheer exhaustion coupled by the surging electricity that seems to wrestle inside my body, my mind is not as reliable a tool these days, nor is my emotional heart.  I'm doing my best.  And when I'm doing my best its usually in the mornings.  By late afternoon, I tend to bottom out. I must remind myself that this time of day was never great to begin with.  Now though, its like the fatigue and the reality of things finally merge somewhere in the pit of my stomach and win. The wind is gone. Kicked right out of me.  The fuel tank is on empty and all I want to do is turn off my brain (not possible) and find a really really comfortable cave to crawl into.   Then, I go make myself a cup of tea, have a good cry, phone someone, talk it out, blow my nose and suck it up.  Most of the time.   

Counselling as a profession is tough.  I love it, but I am aware of the ramifications of it.  As much as I have learned to leave the spillage in my office, when one isn't up to full speed, it can seep into your pores.  Also, the concentration level required to be fully present for someone else when your own heart is broken is next to impossible.  Given that I was in full flight crisis and anxiety most of the time since Christmas trying to figure out what was going on, and trying to remedy it as best as I could (and not succeeding at all), this has been a long long winter of struggling. 

Ok, this is one downer of a post. I am getting to the upbeat part.  Really I am.

As I look back on some of the situations presented to me, the level of crisis, the stories, the suffering and confusions shared with me, especially over the past three weeks, I can honestly say that I have probably provided some of the best counselling support I have ever provided.  Its also safe to say as well that a few of the posing issues have been the most challenging too.  

As well, I have been confronted by similar stories and complications that I am personally dealing with over and over again that it seems like I'm living in the theatre of the Absurd.  I can't tell you how many times I've been left dumbfounded sitting listening to the stories, wondering if God is just a big jokester in the sky, sending these folks to me at a time like this.  Then, I recognize the opportunity for learning.  Big learning, big reflections........ and opportunities to receive perspective.  I am now coming from a very different place when I'm counselling someone else.  

To be fully present like I need to be AND want to be, I must dig much deeper from within my pooled up strength, commonly known as resilience.  To clear the heavy fog that pulls me into despair if I want it to, I must scramble and kick at the same time while breathing.  Shift my thinking, and the fog lifts.  The fogs lifts and my feelings are in a place of openness.  As I have stated before, the secret to counselling is knowing that the counsellor learns just as much and often more so than they ever disperse.  That's the key and that's what inspires me to trudge along to work everyday.  Insight is a masterful gift, and I've learned that it comes best when you are open to interacting with someone much deeper than surface dwelling can ever offer. 

In the past three weeks, I have had the honour and the good fortune to have met human beings who have shown resiliency, vulnerability, feistiness, sadness, anger, confusion.  I have met with lost souls, Prodigal sons, resentful individuals, amazing survivors and the broken ones who were on the verge of giving up.  People who have met with me simply to gather information about some of the courses offered at the College have comfortably (and surprisingly for them and for me) shared their histories and more times than not, their tears.  Fifteen minute meetings have turned into full hour sharing.  WHOA!    Blessings.  No curses here. 

What is different than before is that after I am fully present in a counselling session?  Not only do I need more time to regroup and catch my breath in between sessions,  I almost completely forget most of the details and the wide ranging sharing immediately.  Including names.  This is not like me.  I have an elephant memory.  Usually.  So, I'm trying to learn to jot down key points because I've been caught a couple of times when a person emails me or drops in to talk again and I look at them like they are a new face.  But, when I'm present and in the heat of the counselling session, count on me to be RIGHT THERE sitting in that pool of feelings.  

Ok, I remember some of the details............... here's one.

Yesterday, a  young guy showed up all frazzled and wanting to sign up for a course right away.  I started asking him a few questions just to see if he was ready to take this step, but also to see if the course he's interested is the right fit for him and if he had the qualifications etc. In no time, a list of very complicated life situations, all linked to the basics like finances, housing issues, chaos at home floated up to the top.  I have met many just like him, especially when I was working the front lines at the income assistance office.  So, I cut to the chase with him............ not in a mean way, but in a direct way,  pointing out that as much as he WANTS to take a course to make better money etc, he would fail at it if he didn't take the time now to get other parts of his life in order.  What a MESS!  From there, I suggested a few steps, while reassuring him that the people he needed to connect with to help him were once colleagues.  

Tears came quickly to his eyes as he told me that in the year that he's been truly scrambling looking for guidance, I had given him more in the five minutes we had met than anyone else.  What an amazing thing to be told.   We began to look at his needs one at a time, while he figured out what his priorities are.  What needs attention.  The hour we spent together was intense.  It shifted him into action, and it sent shivers through me. 

Why??

The messages I shared with him, I heard myself.  I was learning too.  Insight stuff.  Reminders.  Me in a mess, he in a mess.  Different messes, but similar gameplans.  Slow down!! Recognize your needs, prioritize, dig out of the chaos one day at a time.  Remind yourself that you do have good goals.......... that your dreams are reachable...... in time. He left with homework and a couple of doable first steps.   I concluded our meeting jotting down my homework on his behalf so I would not forget it.  Then, I wrote in my own journal....  :)

A blessing more than a curse this job of mine is.  I just have to continue to write it down so I don't forget why I get up every morning and make my way there.   For now, it's time for bed.  Tomorrow is another day, fresh with no mistakes.  Guaranteed there will be many of those. Why?  Because I've learned from a wonderful friend (whose a wee bit gouty right now.....get well Pip!  xx)  .... WE are all beautiful in our imperfections.  

Another scar please?  Make it pretty for me God? thanks.

What I want to do when I grow up.........

When you think about the teachers who made a difference in your life, whose manner, messages and presence continues to influence the learning spark inside you,  don't you wonder how they managed to do it?  To be "on" day in and day out in front of a group of people is almost impossible to fathom, and that's what it takes to be the kind of facilitator who inspires students. Their enthusiasm for the subject matter as well as their desire to spark the fire in the hearts and minds of their brood of students must waver from time to time, but somehow they keep it tucked inside while shining on.  Sadly, our educational system is littered with more ho-hums and burn outs than passion.

Every time I step into the classroom to teach, my respect and appreciation for the passionate instructors re-ignites.  It gives me that unique opportunity to stand in their shoes and to recognize just how difficult it would be to engage like that for an extended period of time.  They deserve far more that what we pay them, and earn every single summer day off.

The type of facilitating I'm involved in however is different because it has a short beginning and end, which allows for me to burst with energy rather than find an ebb and flow pace one would need to survive for an extended period of time. In order to be in a classroom every single day, you'd have to find a completely different balance or you would burn out so quickly.  It's been 20 years since I pulled off full time teaching.  I loved it then.  Thrived even.  At that point in my life I was in a much different place in my life...... no children, MUCH younger, less responsibility outside of the classroom.  I wonder if I could pull it off now.  I wonder if I'd like to.  

This is where I am in my thinking tonight as I sit here reflecting on just how exhausted I was at the end of the workday.  For the past two days I taught a program called "Non Violent Crisis Intervention."  It's a "canned" program designed to be delivered exactly how its laid out in a manual.  With the trademark terms and the specific techniques leading the learning, its the kind of training I find the most demanding, because it leaves very little wiggle room to facilitate with the kind of freedom I prefer.  

Usually after I wrap up a workshop I'm pumped. Tired, but pumped.  Instead, I came home tonight completely void of any energy.  I felt used up and wordless..... not a good thing when you have loved ones in your life who deserve more than a person whose only focus is on finding a good comfortable spot on the couch to crash into lalala land.  Ok, I fed them first.  But, I did it in silence.  Then, I crashed.......slept through the early evening time when I should be focus on my family.  

Granted, I'm just getting over a cold and I have so many other thoughts pulsating inside my head vying for my focused attention.  I was also teaching a topic I wasn't too keen on or felt completely competent with the subject matter. Still,  I wonder if I would be up for the challenge of taking on a classroom of learners full time.   It's difficult to say.  As much as I love teaching, the other component one has to consider is how taxing it is on one's freedom. Though the counselling I am involved in on most days is intensely draining and there is little down time, I have control over my schedule. Leading a group of students through a full program is very structured time wise.  Would I be able to surrender those reins at this point in my life?  Would I want to? 

I think I would like my cake and eat it too.  Half time counselling, half time in the classroom.  The way I see it, this combination would be the ideal fit for me.  I could see how it would balance as well as challenge my skills.  OH,  who am I kidding.  If I had my choice?  I'd be rich enough not to have to work full time in any form of structured environment.  I would write, travel, teach when I wanted to, counsel when I wanted to.  And if I wanted to walk endlessly beside the calm tide of a warm body of water, I'd do that too................. Friends and family?  Please join me. :)   The first round of umbrella drinks is on me.

the opposite of perfectionism? messy.

Given how often I fall into a nest of messes, no one could ever label me a perfectionist. Me and messy predicaments go hand in hand.  By the time I am finished a project, a counselling session, a meeting, a workshop, I'm askew.  Especially if chalk is anywhere in the vicinity.  I don't even have to touch the stuff and it somehow ends up smeared somewhere on my clothing.............usually situated in the most embarrassing spots.  Whatever accessories I am wearing............earrings, scarf, other jewelry etc, begin the day with me in the "proppa" place.  But then they end up in some other formation and I don't really care.  My hair never looks the same one day to the next. b-o-r-i-n-g.  Coiffed makes me feel claustrophobic.  Perfectionism, the kind that accompanies judgemental tsk-tsking, completely takes the air right out of my lungs.

Oh, don't get me wrong.  I live by a set of self imposed standards. I don't dress like a slob. The work I do isn't considered sloppy, though my office leans towards disorganized looking.  Though some would consider my approach to life as odd....maybe even eccentric verging on outlandishly deviant, I am reliable.  There are times when for a variety of reasons, I want to remain in that zone called comfort, but usually I like to play hopscotch with that square I've drawn around me.

I just like messes.  And humour.  I like humour too.  People who can't crack a smile scare me. They also push my goofy button too and I'm overcome by the desire to get them to crack that smile....pull them out of that tight assed ensemble with no wrinkles they are hiding in.

Like everyone,  I have several OCD tendancies.  C'mon!  YOU DO TOO!  For example, I can hardly breathe right if the pictures/paintings on a wall are tipped to one side or WORSE, not hung at the correct eye level. Colour and how a room feels hits me right in the temples.  If I have an idea for a crafty kind of project, I become a slave to the idea until I can try it.  However, the craft projects I prefer include paints, goopy glue, glitter shakers, cut outs, dyes, and of course googly eyes.  So, my idea may be clean, crisp and obsessive but my approach isn't.............it's MESSY.

I'm a random talker...........my head is FULL of ideas that churn and fuel me.  Nothing turns me on more than being engaged in an open ended expressively rambling quick witted fast paced honest plunge into the heart of a conversation with someone who loves that too.  I think there's a dirty term for this, but I'll be good and not refer to it here.  It rhymes with findmuck. 

I'm sure it frightens the daylights out of a person who doesn't like surprises when they find themselves talking to someone else who loves a good findmuck.  There have been times when I'm in the middle of one of these tete a tetes when I have thought about how it looks from an outsider......... CRAZY I'm sure.  Then, I move onto another thought and carry on.  :) However, when it comes to a problem, I'll pick at it and pick at it until I crack the damn thing.  It remains in my craw until I beat it to death with my thinking.  Is this a form of perfectionism?  who knows??

Can you imagine going to a Counsellor who is a flaming perfectionist?  Egads!  Surprisingly, they are out there.  What amazes me is WHY would they want to be a Counsellor?

Even though I thrive on the openness of a broad based multi-issued conversation, I am precise when it comes to planning for a workshop.  In fact, I even complete a lesson plan........with objectives and a purpose.  I  make a list of materials I will need.  I sketch out the activities, write down a variety of questions I want to use to engage the group.  I do all of the front end work.  I prepare.  Then?  I'm ready.  Then?  I go into a workshop and let it rip and let it unfold as it should. I'm ready for the messes.  When you're in the field of working with other human beings, you've got to expect deviations, opinions, emotional minefields, needs, issues, stories, frustrations, and spontaneity.  I LOVE THAT part!  It's like inhaling a breath of fresh air!

Rarely do I leave a workshop without covering the key messages I want to teach.  However, rarely does a class unfold as I have planned it out.   I can only imagine how this way of teaching, interacting, doing would make a perfectionist feel.  Messy random bursts of human spontaneous combustion fuels my being.  It must do the exact opposite for someone who needs to maintain a feeling of controlled decorum.  The anxiety must be intense..... as intense as I feel when I am confronted by a situation where I feel like my wings are clipped or my hands are tied down.  If we can't be "ourselves," the anxiety we feel heightens.

Do you know that my daughter's favourite teacher this year is a self confessed ADHD?  She has the whole class of 16 year old seating out of her hand!  

People who thrive on the nitty gritty details as a means of feeling a sense of control completely dumbfound me.  Sure, I know how important they are in the scheme of things.  Yes, I want them to be the people who build our bridges and direct the construction of our dwellings.  But, when their way of being extends to a point where they bring that type of thinking and doing into the discourse and they don't have the capacity to be open and receptive to another human being without passing on gobs of judgement?  Well, I want to know why they are so frightened to let loose.  What's going on inside their heads and heart??  And then I want to run away from them because their barbs are nasty!

I want to know why they can't relax and jump into more fascinating forum where sharing happens through unconditional positive regard.  I want to know why they are the first to judge.... the first to be cynical, pedantic, posturing. I want to know why they can't trust another?  I want to know why they are so damn frightened of being wrong, or showing their grey roots.  I want to be direct and outwardly ask them the why ............. I want to lean forward and look into their eyes, straight into their soul and ask the questions.  Can you imagine??  It would be like stripping them naked, revealing their messy bits.  Do you think perfectionists have a fantasy to want to dance like Beyonce.......I'm a single lady? Somehow I doubt it.  Pole dancing for the tight assed?  Maybe this is the type of therapy needed to help them let loose a bit. hmmmm.........

My way of being is considered by some to be a flurry blur that even may be perceived as unconventionally unacceptable.  Though I am a far cry away from being a loose canon or a renegade with a strange agenda,  the very sniff of my messy unpredictability for a person who thrives on perfectionism  leads them to believe I am someone who needs to be reminded of my place in the world. UGH!  

I think I'm their worst nightmare.  Their biggest fear?  I'm going to ask them WHY?  And I would.  Because I really want to jump right into the heart of that slip sliding mess. 

a walk around the block.....

When mornings are heated by the intensity of counselling sessions, a noon hour walk is a must.  It clears the old noggin, and allows me to lose myself a bit through the lens of my camera.  Somehow the very act of seeking out colours, lines, designs, angles with my own internal lens, I can draw out all that I'm withholding in my cluttered brain.  It helps me refocus for the afternoon portion of my job.  

I often feel like I travel many miles within the course of a day interacting with other individuals.  Sometimes it feels like a very bumpy road.... sometimes it feels like the trip takes no time.  Sometimes it is draining, filled with more rest stops than normal, just to catch one's breath. Many times, there is relief, progress, change, happiness, anger.... heart touching stuff, all of it.  

Broken and beautiful.......healed and stronger.

Travelling with another through snippets of their lives is always astonishing.... always a blessing.  It's a blessing because it doesn't happen if trust isn't established.  It doesn't happen unless a connection is made between the two of you.  To me, this is the most fulfilling type of travel I can think of.  To learn to walk a mile in someone else's shoes.  

When I'm involved in listening to someone's life story, I try my best to concentrate as much as I can.... in order to absorb the nuances and meaning behind what someone has decided to share.  Cues from the non verbal stuff feeds the intuitive nature of counselling.  As much as I love it, in order to continue on, I have to seek out balance..... I have to clear my head in order to be ready for another trip with someone........... 

A walk around the block with my camera companion is always the best way for me to find that balance again.......... that and a good cup of tea.   These chosen photos are my favourites from today's little jaunt under blue, blue November skies........

Travel is the photo theme over at Carmi's this week............for more travel shots, check out his blog.  You won't be disappointed.......... I always love that trip to Written Inc.

roots

If our roots aren't dipped in empathy, how does one acquire it?  If we have only experienced insufferable emotional blows as we grow from our roots, and never have had the experience of empathy immersion, how do we know what it feels like to be bathed in compassion?  If our soul has been pummeled by angry fists and hoofed by steel-toed boots, how do we learn to love ourselves?

We only learn survival behaviour.  Nasty retorts, cowering fear, rage fueled outbursts, or complete emotional shut down numbness..... all for self protection.  No win-win here.  Just a series of serious stumbling over bad decisions, poor choices, ineffective means of connecting.   Still there is a deep hunger to be loved.

Lose-Lose equals  Lonely-Lonely

There's a spiraling effect, which turns into a self fulfilling prophecy.  Believe you're unloved, you will act like you're unloved.  Believe you deserve to be treated poorly, you will act like you don't give a damn about yourself or others.  Sometimes, if you believe you're owed a better life because of all that you've endured, you demand it in a way that stomps on others.  Entitlement overkill.  This perpetual unlovely behaviour squeezes any semblance of empathy right out of touch. It distorts clear minded thinking.  It spoils the sweet aroma of sensitivity and compassion.  It twists logic until it chokes on bile.

If there is a continuous taste of bile and a stomach churning up angry acid, how can you feel empathy?  You can't.  The pain is too red raw........... there is no lining left..... no protective tissues to console.

Is there any way to feed those  roots....the same ones that have been neglected since childhood? Sometimes, it's impossible.  Damage is so deeply embedded that it seems to chemically alter the brain somehow.  Though I am no scientist, I have met my fair share of people who are either born with the inability to feel empathy for others, or whose reslience has been worn down, forced by a life of abuse.  The capacity to dig into the soulpocket where empathy dwells just isn't there. Maybe the learning issue is more than making a choice to look through the eyes of another.  Maybe there is a physical manifestation of psychological damage?  Maybe the roots are dangerously tainted by psychopathology.

Sometimes it IS possible to help someone by feeding their roots.  How?

By choosing to love the unlovely.  

By allowing them to listen to the stories of the people they may have negatively impacted.

By allowing them to tell their story.

By encouraging and encouraging their willingness to change.... to reform, transform, stand on a new platform....... 

By accepting vulnerability as a state of mind worthy of our trust in learning and growth.

By mentoring through actions and guiding....... role modellng the softening melt that happens when forgiveness is the goal.

By recognizing that every single human being is made from the same fabric, the same ingredients.

By wrapping our faith around the belief that we are all players within the Body of Christ. 

It's a lot of work........a lot of effort.  Our natural inclination is to stay within our own belief system... our own way of seeing the world and how it impacts us.  If only we can step out and look through a different lens.  

It's a Grace of God go I thing.........even if you believe there is no hope in empathy transformation. 

ps.... this theory is in the process of being tested.........and continues this week.  

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.

the pows and the wows.....

My days are filled with numerous moments, crackling with emotional intensity. Highs and lows, peaks and valleys...... deep soul interactions sprinkled in the grace of poetic lives.

At the beginning of the school year, I visited every classroom and introduced myself. I told them why I was there..... to listen to their stories, to help them find balance, to encourage and to support them as they focused on their studies. I shared a little of me .......... who I was, where I came from, what I could offer, and most importantly how glad I was to be there because it felt like home to me.

Come tell me your POWS and your WOWS stories, I said. And they have, in a steady stream of unrepressed confessions. Beautiful.

Mostly, I listen to their POWS........the ones that make them keel off to the side like a listing boat taking on water. There's an urgency in the voice, a red flushing of the skin, a wringing of hands, anxious movement. Tears held in for too long cascade.... sometimes attached to relief, sometimes accompanied by embarrassment. Sometimes their tears bring mine close to the surface when the stories pluck certain chords. In those time captured slices of life, there is a sense of intimacy only felt when the depth of the connection swallows you into its gulp.

My days are filled with numerous moments, bubbling to the surface like uncorked champagne. Effervescently complicated ruminations steeped in relationships soured by abuse, addictions, arresting apathy, broken down communication pour out into cups too small to hold the drink. Life champagne overflows too quickly to take sips.

Sometimes, the WOWs walk in..... to celebrate a popping cork accomplishment, an achievement, a decision..... a resolution. We toast the highs and the lows, knowing they often go hand in hand, knowing that crisis is the catharsis for much needed changes. We deserve the champagne. It's hard work being human. It's hard work recognizing the dented imperfections in our body armor.

ah..........but I sit in peace. tonight ......... is peace, and a little breathing space .... to reflect while inhaling deeply. I haven't had much of that, and I can feel the need to. I have this urge to go find a pew.

I am in a good place. Front row seat. High intensity sound. Multi-sensory upheavals and newly found calms. I'm finding my way helping others find theirs too. I can't tell you how much that makes me smile.

I am in a good place. Face to face. Deep glowing hearts. Wide eyed interactions. Connections where kindness and kinship grow daily.

A good place........ to learn, to grow, to experience, to teach, to listen, to guide, to feel the discomfort gnawing in souls. It makes a difference.

My days are filled with numerous tenderhearted moments of meeting, greeting, and being there to catch the POWs however I can. I guess you could say that I'm helping people turn their POWS into WOWs. I feel blessed.

time out........

"Ordinary life, be my rock in times of trouble
Get me back on the earth
Put my feet on the ground."

It's been a while since I sequestered myself downstairs in the room I consider my own (and lend out to guests when they visit). I hadn't felt the urge to tuck into this comfort zone. But tonight, it called out. It called out for many reasons, all to do with the warmth you feel when soul rediscovery happens. So, here i am...... surrounded by sweet aroma candlelight, their flames somehow flickering meditatively to the voice of my companion on nights like this..... Van Morrison.

I can feel the silence coming........
Silence coming in hymns soaked in Celtic resonance.
Bred in the bone familiarity touching my own Celtic soul.

There is a beat to his music which conditionally slows me down, and leads me to a place of resting contemplation where I feel my breathing find its safe evenness. When I reach that security, my own emotions reveal themselves. Tonight, I needed to answer the call to this comfort zone, to gather my thoughts, to reflect more deeply than what the typical day allows.

Tonight...... I want to and need to re-coop, refresh, reframe, relax, and restore ....... So, I return to my soundproof, music filled, candle lit, duvet soft room, where the photos remind me of my roots. As soon as I tucked in, the softening began in a blink. The restlessness that was haunting me all evening as I paced with no sense of purpose or direction took a hike. I'm rediscovering my core, which was caught under the gathered layers of others.

I've encountered many overflowing cups these days and nights .....
Cups spilling over with acute feelings of anguish, disbelief, anger, confusion, of creeping depression, sleep deprivation, obsessive thoughts.
Cups in need of repair because they've endured big swipes from startling life gashes.
Cups spilling from the tired trembling hands that are trying so hard to balance it all.
Cups tumbling over, splashing crisis after crisis onto the floor.....

Stories and secrets unraveled with me right there to listen to, to sit beside, to try to understand, to store in confidence as promised.
As promised.....
Stories sometimes revealed in big immediate bursts, some in convoluted contortions, some in half formed thoughts and in words not worthy enough to describe the fullness of the tearful trauma.

Secrets held in with such vice grip tightness because the idea of revealing them brought red cheeked shame, or blotchy neck rash guilt were finally allowed to spill out in messy humanness.

I've realized that the type of counselling I'm best at is the crisis stuff. At the time when I was really grovelling in a ruminative navel gazing way over whether or not I wanted to continue counselling as a career, I kept stubbing my toe on the whole topic because I was only seeing the side of the field that pertains to therapy....long term, client caseload therapy.

Not for me! No. What I need is to be in the middle of the melee..... to be out in the corridors connecting, directing, listening, guiding, encouraging, hugging.... to be in my office deeply listening, problem solving, asking questions, delving into the soul crevasses, and mentoring someone to learn how to take their own lead. This is the type of counselling I'm involved, and it completely suits my personality. Its intense. Its fast paced. It requires complete rapt attention while in the moment. Rewarding beyond words, connecting through counselling is massively transformative.... for both of us.

It's tiring too. But in a really really good way.

I've encountered many overflowing cups these days and every single time I have been given the opportunity to connect with another person on a level not many have the chance to. In order to keep at it, however, I need to be aware of when it is time to sequester myself in my comfort zone.

so here I am..... drinking deeply again, sitting in the silence soaked in celtic resonance. "By his grace, by his grace...."

time for sleep................................

off on an adventure.....transitions in the making

After spending the week hanging out with her close friends, saying good bye to some who were taking off to do amazing things for the summer, and attending a party in her honour because she too was about to embark on an amazing summer, my daughter arrived home exhausted and contented. She summed it up beautifully by saying ....."I'm in such a good place with all of my friends. I'm ready now." In order to be ready for this next big step in her life, Martha instinctively knew what she needed to do. I could see it in her face. I heard it in her voice. Her words spoke volumes. She was ready.

Half way through last week, I wondered if she was having second thoughts about spending the summer away from home at a children's camp in a counsellor in training program. But, I could see the frenzy in her actions to arrange her week around the important friends in her life.....to be there to say goodbye to them as they ventured off and to say goodbye for her own sake. And it worked. Yesterday, we packed the van with an enormous amount of "stuff," stopped at the Blue Canoe restaurant for a big scarf of a breakfast and dropped her off at her summer home away from home.....Camp.

We stayed for a short time.....got her settled a little bit in a big cabin she will be sharing with 8 other girls the same age, and then wandered around the grounds of the camp as she moved into the group of new staffers. There was an immediate sense of belonging, as many of them were campers together over the past couple of years. There was also a sense of unease....a bit of discomfort, wondering what to say, what to expect......how it would all unfold.....the new kids standing back from the core group because they are so much more tentative. I watched, standing off the to side where I wouldn't be seen, knowing the butterfly feelings strumming in the bellies intimately. Long ago, I had been there too. First day of camp has that effect.

The day before, my daughter and I had talked on and off as she packed. I tried to hold back on sharing my own memories, and I tried not to give too many "words of advice....." which I'm apt to do. She knows most of my camp stories...... is aware that I'm still in touch with several camp kindreds. So, I didn't feel the need to rehash my stuff. I was just so pleased and excited for her and could see that as much as I wanted this opportunity for Martha, I felt at ease that she had made this decision on her own....that this is something she wanted for herself and hadn't made the decision to be a camp counsellor to please me. I listened to the stories of her previous week .... the ones she wanted to share with me, and I could see a really happy beautiful girl standing in front of me whom I thoroughly enjoy spending time with.

What I did decide to offer to the conversation? How exciting and profound her friendships with her peers will become through all the sharing and "new" adventures. I also told her that there will be times when you know instinctively you have touched a child in a profound way and it feels terrific, but that there will be even more kids whom you will never know about. They won't tell you....or they won't even know it until later in life, but that something you've done.... a kind gesture, a slow down listening moment....a memorable moment sitting around a campfire....recognizing their homesickness when words aren't spoken. You just never know...... but the more you interact with others.... all ages, the more you learn about your own gifts and your own self and the more of an impact you will make in the lives of others. It goes hand in hand.

While I watched the new staffers interacting for the first time as a group, I also couldn't help but think of how far my daughter has moved away from holding on tight to me. Painfully shy and unsure as a little one, I literally had to carry her into the kindergarten class. She would pout every time I left her, even if her father and brother were around. To say it felt claustrophobic is an understatement. It was difficult and I didn't know how to deal with it most of the time. Her first couple of attempts at spending a week at a camp were disasters. In fact, i had to go get her halfway through one stint because she wasn't able to calm herself down at night to go to sleep.

Determined to overcome this, and the shy girl label hovering over her head, she quietly made a concerted effort once she hit middle school when she was 11 years old. She joined a leadership program, took to the stage, sought out new friends who had common interests and began to blossom. It wasn't until months after school had started that year, that she shared her "plan" with her Dad and I. By then, her confidence was lifting and it was of her own making. Every year since then, our daughter has shown her beautiful true colours to more than just her immediate family.

This transition towards more independence ...... one Martha has chosen herself and one she has worked really hard to be as prepared as one can be on the cusp of being 16...... is symbolic on so many levels. We see it and applaud. We are tremendously proud of her; of how she composes herself, of how she intuitively can "read" others, of how kind and considerate she is when she calls us to let us know where she is and what she's up to ...... knows no boundaries. No doubt there will be stumbles and tears. No doubt there will be major frustrations and heartbreak. No doubt there will be even bigger joyful transitions in Martha's life. Who knows what the future holds? We can't predict and we sure as heck can't control it. All we can do is stop and recognize life events as they come and savour them as they evolve. Yesterday, I stood and watched and savoured how much I love her.

As much as we are missing her and will continue to feel her absence so much this summer, we all know Martha is where she wants to be. And because of that, I can honestly state "I'm ready."

I think.....

summing it up....and looking forward....

17 years ago, I was an instructor at the local Community College. It was a contract position, which in some ways forced me to take on subjects I would never have considered teaching. When I was asked if I was willing to take on another course, I bravely accepted the challenge (and went home freaking while I figured it out.) When you're flying by the seat of your pants, trying to develop a portfolio of marketability, when you're the one paying the bills putting your spouse through university while establishing yourself in a new city with a minimal career network, when you are the lowest on the totem pole, you dig deep into your own reservoir of skills and open yourself up to learning as you go. That's how I saw it. That's how I approached it.

For four years, I worked from contract to contract without a break between them. Because one can't turn down an opportunity when you're a casual/contract staff person I worked my ass off, sometimes teaching by day and night!! However, teaching and facilitating was not how I had envisioned my career. I had never taken a teaching course ever!!!

I had always thought I'd be working with children, and had studied in the field of counselling and assessment of children. I even focused primarily on pre-schoolers and had a few years while living in Toronto at a rehabiliation centre establishing a sensory stimulation program for children with multiple disabilities. The program I created continues today. Needless to say, I was determined at this point in my career to find this stream....to work with children with special needs in the school system or in a hospital setting. I struggled seeing myself as a teacher of adults. In many ways it was so far removed from my perceived career goal. But, I loved it. I loved it.

I remember the first subject I was hired to teach.....Developmental Psychology. It was a night course for childcare workers who were taking courses towards their diploma in their field. I had been given a text book and a syllabus with a bunch of objectives and learning outcomes listed. That was it. It was up to me to lay out the 2 nights a week for 10 weeks.....all of it! Daunting? You bet!! No internet....no computers. I had reference books and a typewriter. I had my knowledge of the subject matter and the field of childcare/preschool. I started by thinking about the teachers I had learned the most from and why.....and went from there. It was an instinctual jumping into the wild. That's how it felt. I was determined to get the class to talk....to share and to learn from one another. It would not be a passive classroom. They were sitting there as experts working in the field. They had the answers. And they did......and i learned. And it worked. Trial by immersion!!!!!

Human Relations, Effective Writing Skills, Family Dynamics, Introduction to Psychology, Early Childhood theory, Working with Exceptional Children, Goal Setting for Employment, Life Skills, Preparation for Employment, Career Orientation, Stress Management, Counselling, Human Services...... I taught them all and repeated a few of them. The Life Skills program, a 4 week interactive group counselling program for people on Income Assistance.....the first step to moving into the world of work.....?? I ran 24 of them back to back. The skills I developed and honed have been invaluable. And somewhere along the line, I accepted the fact that I really enjoyed the field of Adult Education....even took a couple of courses in it after the fact. It was a good fit for me.

One of the activities I did on the side was individual counselling. It just sort of evolved. Students sought me out, and I was more than willing to lend and ear. At the time the College didn't have guidance counseling services on site despite the evidence of how much it was needed. I tried to lobby for it, thinking that perhaps this could be a niche that may lead to full time permanent employment. But, the political will wasn't there. I continued counselling the students, lending a listening ear, encouraging them, motivating them,.....helping them process their own stuff, helping them make some decisions. I kept tabs on the numbers of students I helped in this way in order to prove to the powers that be there was a need. No such luck.

Eventually, I was hired away from the College....there was no job security there.....to work as the counseling specialist in the frontlines of the welfare office. The skills I had acquired and the love and interest I had to working with people who were living on income assistance trying to find a way out of the margins and into the heart of the work world made this job a good fit. And over the ensuing years, I jumped at any chance to develop training, consult, coach, facilitate, counsel, deliver workshops. I worked on special projects, trained staff around the province...... I had my wings....a lot of creative freedom and a respect from the powers that be that I had gifts which they recognized and wanted me to utilize.

For much of the time, I still had a vision that I would eventually make it into the field I had such a passion for ..... Early Intervention..... working with little ones. Somewhere along the line, I was given this opportunity but quickly realized that what I wanted to do in this field and what the bureaucratic jungle wanted me to do was very different, so I dropped that and moved back into the frontlines working with adults. I'd come and go.....working on different programs and projects, being pulled to deliver workshops to staff in other cities, designing and developing, but I always returned to the counselling.

After 10 years of accumulative learning and honing my skills and seeing how comfortably and easily I connected with the individuals I met and walked a mile or two with, a light bulb went on (I remember the moment it happen.....!) and I realized I was living and working in my calling. It hadn't occured to me that I was where I was supposed to be. As much as I loved working with children..... once I acknowledged that my ability to connect with adults, many of whom were in crisis, I felt a sense of calm inside me which I had never felt before. This "calling realization" happened around the same time that my writing returned with a vengeance along with my interest in my faith. I began to see my work in the marginalized trenches of the world of poverty as where I was supposed to be.

Fast track over the last couple of years, which I've written about ad nauseaum on this blog. It has been an unrelenting struggle, working in a place that had changed some dramatically. Fear enveloped leadership, communication consisted of veiled and direct threats. My wings were clipped. I went from being a part of a team who felt like family to being ripped away from them and thrown into another division with a group of people unfamiliar with what I could offer under the so called guidance of a person who obviously felt threatened by my energy and presence.

For two years, I languished in a setting without a gameplan, a workplan, without much acknowledgement of how i could help out. I was told I was a misfit....that I was difficult to work with.....that they didn't know what to do with me. When I complained, I was told to recognize how lucky I was to have a job and to try working under the radar. It numbed me, challenged me, wounded me....but it taught me (and most definately fed my writing!!) I tried to get out of there. I applied for different jobs, was shortlisted and interviewed for a few of them. Even this process ended up being tremendously painful emotionally as I somehow in the long run losing 2 close friends over it all. This part of the story is still hurtful.

Thank God there were friends and family who were there to support me through this emotional minefield....who knew what I was capable of....who knew how it was impacting me.... who literally saw me at my worst. .... who continued to encourage me to keep putting my neck out, to apply for different jobs, to continue with my writing, to keep paddling my canoe. Thank God they knew I could push through the mess, because when my job was cut I was alright. It didn't hurt as deeply emotionally as it did for others. I had been through too much prior to that.... the job cut seemed like a surface scratch in comparison. Knowing I was moving into another position, albeit temporarily, I was hopeful and glad to get out of the toxic work environment.

A month ago, the first day of my new gig, I received an email from a person I had been in touch with on and off for a year. She and I had met and worked together years ago at the College.... and now she's the Principal. I had held hopes that a teaching position would surface for me.... So, when her email popped up on my screen, I thought it was about this possibility. It wasn't. Instead..... she was getting in touch to inform me that a full time permanent counselling position had been approved and was I interested? WAS I INTERESTED????

Yesterday, I was formally offered the position and I enthusiastically accepted. Starting in July, I will be moving back to the College to set up counselling services.....from birth. It's mine to create.... from 20 years of hands on personal learning, with a city wide/provnice wide network, with counseling and facilitating skills, with my whole heart.

When I phoned home yesterday to touch base with my son after his school day, I told him the news.....

"Are you happy?" he asked

"Yes I am!" I replied.

"Good....I want you to be happy, Mom...."

It's been a rough ride for my whole family. My son's reaction and response spoke volumes.........my misery is theirs too. My happiness is felt by them as well.

Last evening, I headed down to the river to capture the evening light reflections as the sun went down. I watched two women dock their little boat after an evening fishing. I watched two men paddle upstream in their kayak right to the river's edge. And I took in the evening routine of a momma duck and her little ones head to the tall grass for the night after a day of learning ducklife skills. Their collective activities....calm and satisfying mirrored my own feelings and my own desire to grab a paddle and stern my canoe again into a cove I was destined to return to.

Life is good. And this turn of events....this little/big twist in my convoluted career path is bathed in the light of a blessing.