Spinning In Control: a checklist for surviving domestic abuse, defined by a jump ~ from out of this world

On October 14, 2012, Austrian skydiver, Felix Baumgartner, jumped from outer space. He traveled 24 miles at  Mach 1.25 speed (843.6 mph), and landed safely on earth.   That smile seen worldwide, behind his helmet dome, was one that triumphs human spirit, with achievement of life goals.

He stands here above, on his own two feet, after an episode of spinning out of control.

'In that situation, when you spin around, it's like hell and you don't know if you can get out of that spin or not,' he said. 

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2217915/Felix-Baumgartner-headcam-video-It-like-Hell-terrifying.html#ixzz2b6vv8IZr 
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook

Yet, he did!  News commentators noted small angle changes his body was making to counter that spin, to regain control.  The collective heart of the world skipped a beat; we held our breath, as this skilled skydiver piloted his body to the safety of our atmosphere and solid ground. 

What did Mr. Baumgartner have at his side to help him counter that ‘death spin’?  What was he able to manipulate or change to redirect his course, to save his life?  What did he consistently have control of throughout the experience?

The answers to these questions could be lifesaving to yourself or a loved one if you ever found yourself: ‘spinning out of control’. 

Let me preface these words with the assurance, that I am not a professional, in any advising capacity, but I have faced the earth, and all it holds, at what seemed to be a Mach 1.25 speed of spinning decent.  The same questions could have been applied to me.  What did I have at my side to counter a ‘death spin’?  What was I able to manipulate or change to redirect a course, to save my life?  What did I consistently have control of throughout the experience?

A wedding day, or relationship entwined, may be followed by the constricting slow changes of an abusive mate.  Unfortunately, this type of connection is not limited to the heterosexual home life. Many LBGT couples have encountered the same dangerous outcomes of abusive behaviors.  Regardless of who is being faced with this threat, what does one do, mirroring Mr. Baumgartner’s expertise, to stop the ‘death spin’?

First let’s answer the last question.

What does one consistently have control of throughout the experience?

The answer was given to me by my Yoga instructor, Nick Montoya, creator of Ageless Yoga:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6hBIE7QCHs  ( Nick Montoya’s story) 

your breath  

It is yours to hold, take in deep, blow out a candle or make a sea sound.  It is a center, a core strengthener, a spine solidifier as you stand up, a little taller.  Many times in the plummet of an overly controlling and abusive relationship, your breath may be all you have.  Abusive mates in their cycle of abuse, will keep you, (they feel), powerless by restricting possessions or contacts, and then spin you with honeymoon attention. 

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cycle_of_abuse) 

My breath was all I had at times when a yelling, spitting in my face scream owned all I knew, and cut off those I loved.  Or, so I thought.  In a downward spin, it is hard to take the time to access direction, for it feels as if you have none.

What you do not have is: control over another person.  You cannot change them.  You can only change yourself.  Do not waste precious breath trying to argue a won point.  You will need your breath. Breathe it in deeper for strength, the strength you will need to get out of this ‘death spin’.

Here is where we go to the second question.

What do I have at my side to counter a ‘death spin’?   What did Felix Baumgartner have?

Did a big screen TV help him, a bank account? How about a brand new car?  Things do not help you when you are trying to re-enter atmosphere, your will does.  Your iron clad will, your stainless steel sense to survive.  It’s genetic.  It’s a code in each cell.  Hold your breath and see.  You use your first tool, your breath, to paddle your will to survive. If it is held long enough, you will gulp more of that lifesaving substance deep.  You have an inherent, built in survival mode.  Do not let depression, or the numbing qualities of substance abuse, slow that down.  Take in the free air no abusive mate can control.  Let your will, even if you are spinning head over heels, fill you. Make each cell and their orbiting electrons inside you, strong.  You can redirect.  You can apply the life skills you have, not a big screen TV or new car, as wing flaps.  These wing flaps control and help land large jetliners.   Push a mental metal button in your mind. Release your wing flaps.  Maybe a set released just under each elbow, and at the side of your knees, redirecting you, stopping the spin. 

Take in a deep breath, and engage your stainless steel will.  Your own atomic centered orbit can be like a gyroscope.

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cquvA_IpEsA  the gyroscope)

Remember the gyroscope?  We all played with one as a child, or in grade school science class. Without your breath and activated atomic will, you will topple like an inert child’s toy.  But if you energize, pull away the string of life’s entanglements, the new strength you see, may even surprise yourself. You will seem to defy gravity, the heaviness of your situation, as you can now logically begin to plan a way out that seems clear. Your force will raise you up to see solutions, you may have overlooked before.  Do not tire.  Keep pulling away the string of entanglement.  Breathe, though all you may own be lost or torn away, your breath is still your own.  Your will is yours to shine.  Strengthen your steel spine as you define your downward decent, re-angling mindsets, exploring life options, to stop the ‘death spin’.  Your possessions are not the focus.  You cannot save your life or that of children, by grabbing a hold of a TV. The precise changes you need to make will not allow such burdens.  Save yourself first.  Your life is more valuable than things.  Things will come later, when you are free and away from the abuse, in a new home, once you have landed on your feet.  Then smiles will congratulate you, and your bravery. 

Mr. Baumgartner also had a well-trained team talking him through tough times.
Create your team too.

Choose team members you can trust, with your life.  You are in a ‘death spin’.  Create your network.  Keep your earpiece communication lines open with honesty.  Don’t lie or cover up malfunctions.  Your team members need to know what exactly what your situation is.  Felix Baumgartner spoke to his team before he left the safety of a balloon capsule, 34 miles above the earth.  He spoke honestly.  It was Air Force Captain Joe Kittinger’s calm voice that gave Felix his life reminding instructions as he prepared to jump. 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/space/9613463/Felix-Baumgartner-Joe-Kittinger-says-it-was-like-deja-vu.html

Let your team members have this clearance too.  Let them guide you to safety, away from abuse, towards a safe home, maybe even to further education and a better employment opportunity for yourself, and your children.  Though you may know which tube is for oxygen, patiently listen to each of your team member’s instructions, follow through.  When you are in an abusive situation, you are not thinking clearly.  It’s as if you are miles away from the rest of humanity, trying to solve it all with less oxygen.  Trust your hand-picked team. 

Utilize your resources.  Felix Baumgartner had the Red Bull Stratos Team expertise at his command. 

http://www.redbullstratos.com/

Build your resources too.   One amazing resource I remember using is a book by
Ginny NiCarthy~Getting Free

Ginny NiCarthy's work is, as described in the first comment under the book’s post, almost a ‘bible’ of reference, without the ‘psycho-babble’. It can be used as a common sense, safe way to heal from domestic abuse, &  GET OUT!

http://books.google.com/books/about/Getting_Free.html?id=V1afAgDDiQ4C

Get the book!  Write in it as she encourages, and feel your will strengthen.  This book is Red Bull Stratos strong for your downward spin.  It will teach you:  the angles you need to adjust in your life, the compensation for the abuse you are enduring, your need to resist your mate and define your every movement, to stop the head over heels feeling, and the loss of life’s control. You can do it! Many of us have, and we wish the same solid, on the ground feeling, for you.  Unlike my lack of professional input, Ms. NiCarthy has countless credentials to help you counter your spin.  Make her part of your Stratos Team!

http://www.ginnynicarthy.org/about.html

There is only one question left.

What was Felix Baumgartner able to manipulate or change to redirect his course, to save his life?  What are you able to change or redirect? 

The answer is: only yourself. 

Mr. Baumgartner was not able at the downward decent speed of 843.6 mph change someone’s opinion of himself, nor should that have been even a fleeting concern.  His focus was on his body’s movements, his choices of direction to ensure a safe landing, to walk again free, with oxygen, on the earth.

Your choices should be the same.  In the downward ‘death spin’, you do not have the option to worry about what others think of you.  Remember the consult of your hand-picked team members, your resources of life experience, and follow your focus, your plan to safety.  Many may think as they will of you. That is their right.  It is your right too, to follow a course you feel best, countering an abusive mate’s flux, that has altered life’s balance, and regain solid footing again.  Despite the tongue wagging you may hear along the way, think of the words as clouds, some are beautiful, others-not so much. But clouds nonetheless, and not harmful. (without lightning, anyway!) They are fluffy side notes as you engage your parachute, following new commands, to control your life, you may have never used.  Pull that rip cord! Soon a huge chasm will separate you and your abusive mate.  It will seem as if you left them miles away in the outer stratosphere.  Now, negativity is drifting off alone.  Off to support the dark places it creates, like black holes in it's supporters wounded hearts and minds. 

You though, are able to feel sunshine and the love of your team members, ready to congratulate you for such a brave and mind boggling life achievement!  You've torn yourself from the known but painful, and stepped into the unknown, but soon to be safe.  The spin will stop shortly.  You will stand, and not believe your strength and strong spine.  A dear friend once told me the chasm is deep, but it is only, one step across.  Take the step! 

Take it like Felix Baumgartner did on October 14, 2012. Your date will be historic too!  The day you walked off that tiny ledge of the known, to find your freedom again in the unknown. Your freedom from abuse will soon be history. We will smile, with proud tear filled eyes, as you beam back behind your helmet dome, and then raise it to breathe.  The breath you now and will always control. 

You will add to that list of things you control.  Soon it will be:  where you live, who you call on the phone, how to spend your money, and with whom you wish to spend time.  There may be new freedoms like:  how you wish to style your hair, clothes you choose to wear, a kind new loving way to be intimate and share. 

All will be restored, and healed with your electron strong core will.  Direction will be given through hand-picked team advisors.  These will be the tools at your side, your wing flaps to guide you and make you stronger.

Don’t be surprised as you seem to become larger than life strong, that you will meet with resistance from your abusive mate.  This point in your decent can be critically dangerous.  Utilize your team members for safety. 

Mr. Baumgartner knew he only had 10 minutes of Oxygen. 

He said: ”  you cannot think and come up with decisions while you freefall. It’s just too fast and too overwhelming.”

http://www.popsci.com/technology/article/2012-10/felix-baumgartner%E2%80%99s-nail-biting-ascent

Seek out professionals and law enforcement to help guide your way.  Your safety is of the utmost importance.  Don’t worry about a car or a big screen TV.  It will not help guide you out of a ‘death spin’.

Here is part of the common sense- pre-jump -check list I remember, and have used from Ginny NiCarthy’s book, Getting Free.

Keep your car keys and phone with you, even when you sleep.

Keep extra clothes, medication, and personal care items for yourself and children, packed in your car. 

This includes extra work clothes. 

Start a secret bank account in your name only.

Save money when you can, (vinegar and water instead of Windex), and bank your extra cash.

Start attending classes to better yourself and income possibilities.  Choose short term certificate programs that ensure employment availability.  The medical field is great.  Hospitals are open 24/7.

Get a job with tuition reimbursement, to keep your career growing stronger with further education.

Watch what is going on around you.  If you feel your cycle of abuse is turning quickly to one that is violent, GET OUT!  Make an excuse, like going for milk and leave!

Your life is more important than possessions.  Do not stay in an abusive relationship, or go back to one for your stuff.  Things can be recovered.  Family mementos are not as important as your life.  An abusive mate may target these things, by being destructive, to control and keep you.

Share your story.  Tell others what is happening in your life.  Do not live a secret life of abuse.  Add trusted advisors to your team.  Let them know where you are at all times. 

Utilize law enforcement when needed.  Many a person has died, (while a police officer sat in a squad car outside), trying to ‘get their stuff’ from the home of an abusive mate.  Make them do their job and go in with you! Protect yourself!   ~see heartbreaking examples in: Next Time She’ll Be Dead by Ann Jones http://www.annjonesonline.com/NextTime.html 

Obtain an order of protection.

Utilize security officers at work, informing them of your order of protection.

Join abuse survivor support groups.  Attend the meetings. Create change/maintain boundaries. Remember you are in a ‘death spin’.  Take care not to take on someone else’s too!

Watch your surroundings, when you are walking to your car or driving in traffic.  Call 911 immediately, even if you are unsure of your safety. 

Keep all your important documents with you, or with a trusted team member.  Don’t go back into an abusive or life threatening situation for a birth certificate or social security card.  Documents can be replaced.  Your life cannot. 

Give yourself permission to make mistakes.  This is the first time you are leaving an abusive relationship.  You may not do everything according to the book, but your team members will help ensure: you get out alive.

Allow yourself to feel sad for the loss of the relationship.  Many a person has stopped the lifesaving process when fed the fumes of guilt or shame.  Don’t succumb to heart strings being pulled by a mate, or the shame a family may impose for divorce or separation.  If reconciliation is a possibility, it can happen after you are safe, and have landed solidly on the ground, after surviving a ‘death spin’.  If not, then move on. 

Remember YOUR Bill of Rights:

BILL OF RIGHTS

· You have the right to be you.

· You have the right to put yourself first.

· You have the right to be safe.

· You have the right to love and be loved.

· You have the right to be treated with respect.

· You have the right to be human - NOT PERFECT.

· You have the right to be angry and protest if you are treated unfairly or abusively by anyone.

· You have the right to your own privacy.

· You have the right to your own opinions, to express them, and to be taken seriously.

· You have the right to earn and control your own money.

· You have the right to ask questions about anything that affects your life.

· You have the right to make decisions that affect you.

· You have the right to grow and change (and that includes changing your mind).

· You have the right to say NO.

· You have the right to make mistakes.

· You have the right NOT to be responsible for other adults’ problems.

· You have the right not to be liked by everyone.

· YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO CONTROL YOUR OWN LIFE AND TO CHANGE IT IF   YOU ARE NOT HAPPY WITH IT AS IT IS.

And please, above all, know YOU are loved, for who you are, as a member of a world family.

The resources available to you, earned from the hard work and tears of ones before you, yes, ~even loss of life, are invaluable.  Use them! Be safe, and start your life:

                                                SPINNING IN CONTROL!

                                                                     

  

Help me, Mr. Wizard!

Ancient times conjured magic, later demystified by our modern day explanations with science. Solar eclipses in China were thought to be a celestial dragon devouring the sun,* Sodom and Gomorrah's fire and sulfur ~ natural bitumen deposits and an unstable fault line.­■  But the debate over pheromones continues. "Compelling" evidence exists through various scientifically controlled studies♥, that the human odors we exude may affect our romance.

                                                                 

                                              

The snake oil salesmen would like us to think so. They tout their synthetic pheromone love potions to produce the same response in YOU as a sow in heat, frozen in motion, at the whiff of her boar's pheromone loaded breath! ☻


                                                  

I like to believe there are reasons for why and how I behave. My brothers and I were myth busters before we were in school.  We borrowed Grandmother's paring knife and cutting board to open the Magic Mexican Jumping Beans purchased for us at the Jewel on the 6100 block of Archer Avenue in Chicago.

                                  We found and released into her 'shrubbery' ♣ : worms.

So it was long after I ended a relationship, I found myself still attracted to a particular cologne, Drakkar Noir. From a Behaviorist Perspective, this may have been due to a stimuli and response based behavior, as illustrated by the Skinner box. (get the cheese)




                                              

or was it Classic Conditioning? {ring a bell and i'll salivate}

It was not an Oedipus complex, my father wore Old Spice. [so does my husband, weird]

Whatever the cause, IT NEEDED TO STOP.  I was buying samplers, dabbing wrist and neck. All along thinking of the hundreds of dollars {of mine} this loser skipped off with.  Time to apply scientific theory.  

STAND BACK, I'M ABOUT TO TRY SCIENCE! 

An epiphany came to me in the form of a musty vacuum cleaner bag.  I had generally used a dab of lavender oil, sucked up into the hepa-filtered compartment, to leave the room in herbal scented bliss, after a thorough cleaning.  I was out of lavender oil! The only strong scent on hand:  the Drakkar Noir. 

On the quarter sheet of tp it went. Doused and violently hurled into the vortex of Kirby cleaning strength, an incidental treatment of Aversion Therapy began!

  The room became filled with the heavy scent of Drakkar Noir, residual house dust and dog hair. 

It swirled in the too hot room with the noise and clumsy heaviness of housework. Moving chairs and coffee tables became a breeze thinking about my cash, having been spent on another woman in another country. The sofa slid out and was slammed again into the wall at the thought of having paid his cell phone bill for months. The vacuum hose sucked in the filth as he had sucked me dry of my finances, all because of his pheromones and THIS stupid cologne!

 Suddenly, my home was Kirby clean, my mind and heart purged of anger and frustration. I no longer enjoyed the scent of Drakkar Noir.  It is now only used to freshen the vacuum bag.  It is exclusively used for a machine that sucks everything clean, and I, control that machine.  I control myself, my emotions, and behavior, {well, i try to} thanks to knowledge, credit to Science, {not magic} and a vacuum hose.

                                                 


Sources cited:

*Solar Eclipses in History and Mythology
■Is there a scientific explanation for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah?
♥Pheromones in Humans: Myth or Reality?
☻Sexual Magnetism: Pheromones - The Scent Of Sex
♣ The Knights who say Ni

Believing oneself to be perfect is often the sign of a delusional mind. -Data, to Borg Queen, Star Trek: First Contact

Years ago when my Father announced I walked like a farm-hand and needed some intervention, my Mother promptly signed me up for ballet in my 'blossoming' years. It was a once a week class, (yes, with tights) of stretches and elite forms designed to help me move more like Grace Kelly, Princess of Monaco. All my brothers knew was cold. It was mid winter in Illinois and their sister 'couldn't walk'. Well, she could walk. She had seemed to walk fine up until then, until Dad said she wasn't walking like a young lady should. Everyone was self conscious and kind of quiet about this new direction, well yeah, especially me. My brothers and I had always worked like a well oiled machine, two boys and a tom-boy. Except now I walked, apparently, like a farm hand, which confused me, because we lived on one. I mean a farm. So there I was in leotard, extending middle school fingers in gradual steps of beauty, while my brothers were preventing frostbite in theirs, waiting in the car for their sister who 'can't walk'. To survive they warmed their fingers with the car cigarette lighter: coiled circles of ready to use, pop out orange, ringed heat burning like the winter sunset they watched sink behind a country driveway of a rural ballet studio. Bundled boys were not about to sit inside with a bunch of pirouette bent girls. And this went on, practice after practice, once a week winter day after school winter day, until the first recital. I had since plastered my room with prints of ballerinas in various forms of stretch and dance with and without partners. One golden-haired beauty peered into her starlit mirror, pursing candy lipstick lips for her next performance. I had always thought I was going to be a Marine biologist. (I like Killer Whales.) Now trusting my father to know best, I became kin with the 'swans' surrounding me in my room. I was aplomb with my arabesque! The recital for some reason, was at my grade school. Attending in support of my efforts to walk more like a lady, was my aged ginger 3rd grade teacher.  My class was her last before retirement. Mrs. Goodall was a balanced red topped country school smart woman.  She had a way, a kind of common sense that one treasures like a favorite day. It made her as real as the apple pies my mom would bake her, leaving her blonde school desktop sticky beneath the foiled gift. She sat on one of the cold grey metal folding chairs awaiting the recital, with the other parents, siblings and smiles. The class virtuoso stepped lightly into view of the unaligned seating, mismatch of winter coats, squirmy kids, breath holding moms and camera clad dads like she was at the Kirov Theatre in Saint Petersburg, Russia. The swell of the music lifted her ethereal downcast mascara fringed eyelids to a new level of childhood beauty and wonder. A perfect bun of butterscotch hair spun as did her tiny pointed toe shoes, earrings glinting as her tutu broke your heart. Other girls in different levels of grade school growth complimented her beauty and all were a garden for the audience, melting winter snows away. And then I trailed in. I was unusually tall for my age and always had to stand in the back row for class pictures with the boys. Side stage jumbled me in with brunette wild curls, unsuccessfully tamed to a pony tail, ringed and sprouting, escaping sprouts like Jack's beanstalk, & spitting out hairpins along the way. I was a Yeti. Winter returned. Brothers giggled. Parents hushed. I spun and feet flapped flat like a family of beavers weatherproofing their lodge. The music and mood was no longer the soaring score that captured hearts and stole away shallow breaths in family wonder. The tune seemed a tin cup cassette tape recording that crackled like a campfire. The beautiful stage disappeared, and a cold winter gray class room returned. Thankfully, the intuitive ballet instructor was cognizant of my Yeti skills and placed me last to enter and perform my version of ballet just as the song ended. I lined up with the other 'little' girls. The swan child received a bouquet and applause to which she perfectly executed a Pas Marche´. (The graceful walk to center stage to take a curtsy or bow) We dispersed as a troupe to become children again. My brothers hung by the door eager to bolt at the first hint this torture was over. I was freezing in tights to steal a glance as the blue black sunset hit frozen ice spots on the playground outside, hidden earlier by day-lit skies. I knew tomorrow I would be sliding on them during recess, when I was able to wear real clothes again! My dusk dream was interrupted by the Ballet Instructor's congratulations to my Mother that I had graduated! I had completed the goal that was shamefully confided to her on our interview first appointment day. I could officially, in her opinion, walk like a lady. I was thrilled! My grade school teacher standing by my mom's elbow smiled. She had known all along I was not a ballerina. My mom still confused at the Yeti dumping gathered me up, loaded up her boys and we drove home. Later, I packed up all but one of the ballet pictures in my room. A painting that was my Grandmother's remained. I still stand out as 'tall kid in the back row', but now in guitar class. My teacher is frustrated with me when he watches me play. 'You're on the wrong string!' I called my older brother. We laughed. He said: "You're on the wrong branch! Move out a little more towards the end, yeah right there! Right by the little leaf all by itself!" I'm still a Yeti. Frustrating the arts with my dominant left hemisphere. The funny thing is now, the doctor said the 'medicine' I need for muscle and joint pain is:  stretches. Really? Ballet?!? (whew, yoga)  My brother clued me, "And you didn't think it would come back around full circle?" Well it did, Keith! Keep warm with the cigarette lighter, dear brothers. I'm on the wrong string.

silver and gold and green bean casserole

It was the week of Thanksgiving. I'm technically not a newlywed, but sometimes, still feel like one. Either way, holidays are not something I've ever celebrated. So when the 'big day' is with my new in-laws, I was ok to have to work. In fact, I have asked my supervisors to schedule me on holidays. "All of my family is out of state. I don't celebrate holidays, anyway." is what I would say, laugh and walk away. So it was, now the night before Thanksgiving, and my girlfriend said, she was sorry that my daughter and I were not speaking. She had a similar situation. "It's ok." I said, it doesn't bother me anymore. She called me out on it. "Yes, it does! No one can fill that part of your life." Her phone battery died and I continued baking and cooking for my part of a Thanksgiving meal with my in-laws that I would not attend. Vegetables were seasoned and wrapped in foil for family to pick up the next day, and take to the meal my husband would enjoy after working too, but with an earlier finish time. I cleaned the kitchen, watered plants, set my alarm, and drifted off. Unexpectedly, I heard a loud knocking on the door! It was already early daylight, and minutes before my alarm was to sound. I looked at my husband, and already robed, I told him I would get the door. I could hardly believe it! My daughter, whom i hadn't spoken to in years, was at my door! I gasped and was frozen! She said, "Hi! Aren't you going to invite me in?" I did and was so befuddled as she ushered in a sleepy boyfriend and several suitcases, I still didn't know what to do. She understood and picked right up with an explanation. "You know all those years that you worked, and missed holidays with us, I always resented that about you. We grew father apart as time went on, and now that you are halfway across the country, I just gave up on ever having a real relationship with you. But then I thought, it doesn't have to be that way. You said you were moving to slow down, go back to school, so I knew you would have today off. It was a sure thing. No more, "I have to go to work" and my sister and I would be left alone to our own means for holidays with Dad and family, without you. So what do you say? I'm here! Happy Thanksgiving!" She wrapped her arms around me, as we both began to cry. Inside walls fell like Jericho. Her boyfriend had found the dog and was petting it's head and kicking a rug. "Ok!" I exhaled. She stiffened. "You are off today, aren't you?" I turned to my husband, now standing in the hallway, and looked at her 'red eye flight' eyes and smeared mascara. And then . . . . . my alarm went off. I woke up. It was Thanksgiving morning. I had to go to work. I stumbled in the dark, past the dog to silence the alarm. I began gathering clothes. I have been doing this so long, I don't know any other way. Being with my patients has always been my place during holidays. I don't easily let people 'in'. I did move down here to go back to school. I did move to slow down. I turned on the bathroom light and started the shower. I do miss my daughters, and hope they have a blessed day with their family and friends. I turned to close the bathroom door, and then heard a knock at the front door. A loud knock, like someone really wanted me to just stay home today. Happy Thanksgiving Silver and Gold ~Neil Young http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2WNs1FAPeA © ruth follmann

What's on your mind?

Heads are containers to hold stuf. They are very useful that way. So successful are they at arranging the things we need to use in convenient upper body locations, that scientists and robot engineers copy the human design for their own creations. (although some days I would prefer the design of the Mars Curiosity to human, complete with six rocker-boogie tires, a radioisotope thermoelectric generator, and hazcams!)

                                                      

Nevertheless, we are stuck with it, and all the impressions it gives, groups we are associated with, lifestyles and camps we claim. For although we are bombarded, like no generation before us on this silly planet, with mountain ranges of information on a constant basis, we still make our initial reflections, our observations, and sometimes accepted judgments based on what that head looks like instead of what is inside.


                                                         

This container houses contraptions to facilitate our senses, some of which, on our fellows, are not as functional as ours. Vision's sense removed, hearing, sense of smell or taste gone, and still astounding accomplishments can be mapped out and created due to the contents, our brain. A friend recently shared that our brains have the ability to grow and change based on what information they are fed. A diet of music can cause the grey matter to grow and create folds, holding the new data in ways that are observably different from brains that have not been trained in this study. The beautiful mind!


                                                                
                                                                           John Nash ~  1928-2015
                                             

And why not, countless hours and monies are spent to shape and sculpt the body so it is pleasing to others, but what are we doing to re-craft and embellish our thoughts, superstitions, prejudices, assumptions, and sometimes unmovable Teutonic plates of arrogance and stupidity?

How much more important what is inside this container than how it appears on the outside! Matthew 23:27 contains a hint to that when the teacher, Jesus cited the Pharisees as being like white washed graves, righteous and beautiful on the outside, but inside wicked, hypocritical, full of dead men's bones.

                                                                     


Meditation teacher in the arts of Theravada Buddhist tradition, Gina Sharpe notes that: "The basis of a beautiful life is a beautiful mind." When asked to expand on that statement she said: "A beautiful mind is a mind that integrates everything, whether full sail or no wind. It can be buoyant despite conditions. It’s trained to be so. Our minds left untended are not careful. We have to be careful about what grows up in the garden of the mind; careful about what needs tending, feeding, and what needs cutting back. The quality of care is what makes a garden beautiful, as much as the particulars. Similarly, anytime you try to narrow things down to a particular definition—or when we try to make huge decisions—we get bogged down. It’s more beautiful to see with care how every small response is made, and how it makes a kaleidoscopic pattern." (complete interview link: http://www.parabola.org/the-beautiful-mind.html)


                                                               

How much more effective to begin a conversation with the question: "So what's on your mind?" in lieu of a boring statement as to how the container holding such a precious object appears somewhat different, due to new glasses, jewelry or even a haircut. These external appearances define us according to bias and pigeonholing. They create boundaries, that if were crossed, may lead to combined collective thought processes or life solutions created between otherwise appearance separated individuals.

                                                                      


My container image may toss me into the LBGT box, where the dreadlocks on another may denote a careless life, possibly with drug abuse. And so what if I am or not or he is or not. Why does it matter? Should we care? And what is that?!? Is it some kind of evolutionary instinctual GPS? It's annoying! We all need to look past those containers, the styles, the scars, the disabilities, the beauty, the bling and see: THE MIND! It's imperative we do so. Our world is growing smaller every day due to technology and travel. We have and are suffering genocides due to this splayed pattern of thinking. We truly need to work on our gardens, the ones in our minds. Cultivate the beautiful thriving and strengthening thoughts and pluck the weeds of bias and hate to the side. What a more beautiful place the world would be if we composted and regrew these ingrained tendencies through mediation and reflection. It is certainly a more productive way to spend time in a line other than reliving an uncomfortable moment over and over again. Turn the garden shovel inward and dig deep!


                                                                        

My husband and I have stopped eating loafs of bread due to the body's easy capacity to add pounds as one enjoys middle age. We use whole wheat wraps for most of our 'bread' needs. As becos means bread, and bread is sustenance, as knowledge is sustenance: how much more fitting in our times of a ever changing world to have a flexible bread? One that can wrap around what ever ingredients life throws our way. A bread to feed us, nourish us, with a comfort and fullness that we truly care about what is on someone's mind, and not just what is on their head.

senior moment by ruth follmann | Make Your Own Book

I'M PULLING THROUGH!

I'll never forget waiting in line in a woman's restroom to witness one of the greatest examples of feminine strength and resiliency. A little girl, no older than four, took her turn to use the stalled toilet, with Mom grabbing the stall door from behind, to slow it and hold it closed. The little girl came right back out of the stall like a bull from a rodeo pen, reclaimed the door's control all to herself, and exclaimed to her Mother and all in the bathroom: "NO, MOM! I can do it MYSELF!"



The Mom turned beet red, and after looking to the floor, looked up at me and apologized for her daughter's public behavior. I countered with an absolute additional: "NO!"

I told the young mother that what we had all just witnessed was one of the best examples
of feminine assertive behavior that I had ever seen! I shared with all,
that it took years for me to get to that level of strength and confidence. Instead of shame,
this young lady should be applauded, and will make one heck of a CEO someday!



In not to dissimilar a case, I recall a parking lot driving lesson with my oldest. She had always back seat driver encouraged me to 'pull up' to the next parking spot, so leaving the lot could be an easier task.

Of course, as old horses do, I plodded off in my same parking lot pattern I had for years, until that one magical day, when she was behind the wheel.


She was turning right into the angled parking spot when ahead of her appeared an opening like all the beaming lights of heaven itself. She had almost caught herself in the same child like intonation, to tell me to pull forward, when I could see the lightening bolt recognition on her face and in her eyes that SHE was in control this time.



Without missing a beat, my oldest exclaimed; "I'M PULLING THROUGH!" and she did!



I don't know who had more of a rush, her or me, to witness that Rosa Parks moment of strength, and newfound freedom.


'You've always had the power to go back to Kansas' ~is what Dorothy Gale
was told, after much trepidation.


You can be who you want to be and not be ashamed or guilty, you have the right to be loved, happy, and not hurt or frightened by others, is what I told myself. (there was no glowing bubble that popped)


Years of walls, structures and confines for women that we must knock down ourselves, with the sledgehammers of our self bolstered lives.



It's no wonder when we see a young woman already making that huge step, (the one that terrified us for years), with all the gusto of an Olympic Star, that we have to smile to ourselves and know,

            things are going to be ok.