Joy asked me how I experienced growing up in the ’60s. Was I inspired by the radical activists in the news? My sensitivities ran more to Frank Zappa than the Weather Underground. I wanted to explore and see things from as many different perspectives as I could. The causes of the day elicited my sympathy, but perpetuating violence didn’t. I really did want to love everybody.
Her father scoffed at me as being both arrogant and naive to have such a dream. Relying on his emotional support, I chose to hide my ideals away along with his judgment that I was unworthy of them.
So now, remembering is part of reclaiming my experience. I was mystified by desire to be with him. Our relationship didn’t match who I though I was and who I would choose for company. Joy says he is charismatic which was news to me. Was it his charisma that overcame my resistance to his views and his selfishness? Whatever it was, I loved him, despite “knowing better”.
I explained that I would not have sex with him because my intact virginity was my priority. However I understood young men had very strong sexual urges, so I would not object if he chose to have sex with anyone else. Unfortunately my own sexual urges combined with lack of practical information got the better of me and suddenly I discovered I was not a virgin.
( Wish I’d heard of reclaiming virginity. I thought once lost, forever lost but now I prefer to maximize options not surgically, just psychologically.)
I felt I had lost control of myself, my choices and who I could be, that there was no going back. Back in the day it was not all free love and roses. In my community, in my head, being a virgin was necessary to be worthwhile. By losing that, I lost connection to my community and became dependent on my boyfriend to escort me through the rest of high school lest my indiscretion be exposed.
… back to my political inclinations. I was uneasy with the “off the P*gs” rhetoric. My instincts were not aligned with condemnation, a variation on the current theme of fighting for peace in Southeast Asia. Big talk without a foundation of understanding. Illusions? Nixon looked like a creep, but trying to reconcile vilifying him with peace and love didn’t work. It was a larger demo of my own drama. The world was an angry rather than a supportive place.
All this reminiscing and trying to communicate my experience parallels my present awareness of the circle of blame/shame riding around adoptionland. I habitually blamed/judged myself, for failing to figure out how to operate in society, how to raise my first born child. The world was hard! I blamed her dad in part. But that just came back to the fact that I chose him. My parents forbid me to see him. But I did it anyway.
Entering blogland in 2006 I found there was lots of other ways to place blame. My favorite was the evil adoption agencies. Money, greed, commerce were all familiar evils to me. I still carried a torch for blaming her father, feeling wronged and betrayed by him.
The real novelty was blaming aparents in general– victims of their baby lust as well as society’s expectations. I can carry that as far as blaming my own daughter’s aparents (although I do respect that, THEY were the ones that took her home and cleaned her bottom, and fed her and wiped her nose etc.) But still, it’s easy for me to blame them for not living up to my expectations.
In the long run blaming anyone as an escape from my pain is running away from myself. No matter who I blame or where I go, the pain comes along for the ride. The pain is the response inside me.
It may seem like someone else is hurting me. My boyfriend abandoned me. My parents turned me out. Her parents let me down. But it’s bound to look different from their point of view. The pain I experience is inside me and that’s where I have to deal with it. Blaming anyone avoids dealing with the source of it. It hurts inside me. Deciding some else caused it doesn’t make it go away .
Accepting what is going on without judgment or blame, including for myself, I gain authority over my pain. I don’t have to change. Nothing has to change. If and when things do change, that’s ok too.
I’m here with what I’ve got and so is everyone else. We’re doing the best we know how with what we’ve got to work with, and there’s no need to blame anybody. I didn’t have perfect parents. They didn’t have perfect parents either. Nor were we perfect children.
Playing the victim, belies that I am responsible for my life. It’s the one thing I’ve got. Empowering something or someone else through blame is taking my life away from me; to live in castles in the sky, the way I think it should be — cheating myself out of my own life.
I am not to blame for my experience. My experience is my resource. I am in reunion with my exquisitely perfect and beautiful first born adult child. I am cooperating with the process of uncovering the blocks and obstacles in our path.
The loving between us is always present waiting for us to return and pay attention to it. Our separation can dissolve instantly when we turn to our connectedness. We can relax, enjoy the respite of our caring for ourselves.
The past is a reference point. I’m looking at it with awareness – for information, not for blame or judgment.
Blogging is an opportunity to grow in peace. Looking through eyes of peace, I don’t see enemies or opposition. I see opportunities.
Happiness is a state of mind. Happy thoughts have power. Regardless of what I’m doing or what has happened, I’m choosing to be happy and share that, by cooperating with what is present.