Good Day

It is a good day

To let the feelings flow

As they will, unadulterated

Without shame or restraint

With no fuck or fear given

To how YOU would feel about them

 

Knowing all too well how you would

Dismiss – distract – deflect

Connive – contort – convince me

Hell, everyone we know

They are not real

I am not real 

 

And upon realizing you’ve lost that power

Slink away to wallow in the cowardice and shame

I will never again bear for you

Or shrink myself to accommodate

 

Yourself alone remains now to delude

That I am the one who abandons and betrays

 

It is a good day

To do the tedious work

Of gathering scraps of grace

The only place I find them

Here in this chasm of separation

I did not want or choose

 

Today…

It is a very good day

To be 2000 miles away

Living Above the Curse (Part 3 – The Curse of Man)

We all know the Venus and Mars stereotypes. Women are complex multitasking nurturers, men are singularly-focused aggressive hunter/providers.

Woman with the flu, a cramping, hemorrhaging uterus and a baby attached to her boob pushes through her daily myriad of responsibilities to take care of the family vs. male devastated by Man Cold.

Generalizations? Sure. It’s that spectrum thing again. There’s a wide range of expression of gender roles and no real “supposed to be’s.” There just IS for each of us what IS based on our unique makeup. What IS, generally speaking for the cisgender male, is a testosterone-driven drive to accomplish and conquer in order to find satisfaction and self-worth.

This is neither good nor bad, to be neither admired nor mocked (though I’ve totally indulged in misandry along with every other woman by doing just that). It’s biology and psychology. It just IS. The writers of Genesis recognized it in Adam’s curse.

“Cursed is the ground because of you;
    through painful toil you will eat food from it
    all the days of your life.
18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
    and you will eat the plants of the field.
19 By the sweat of your brow
    you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
    since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
    and to dust you will return.”

The Woman’s complexity of curses are tied to the flesh from which she came. The Man’s curse is associated with the dirt from which he was God breathed. The curse of Man is the futility of his work. He has to toil very, very hard his entire life, be frustrated every step of the way, and then die and return to dirt as if he never existed.

Damn. So much for satisfaction. Honestly, I don’t envy a man his curse at all. It may be singular but it’s very, VERY heavy. From my observation it also makes him more vulnerable (not weak). Vulnerable to what? Despair. A Woman’s complexity and connections are her strength. When one pillar falls, there are others to compensate. When a man’s focus of satisfaction and self-worth disintegrates it more often than not turns him to denial, distraction, and destruction and a desperate grasp for control – anything but facing this reality that his desires and drives are going to be continually frustrated and in the end…utterly insignificant.

A theory I’m working on, but this might be why a lot of men keep such a tight lid on open expression of sadness and fear and are often dismissive of a women’s frequency and freer expression of the “difficult” emotions. For a man, it’s a sign of the despair and failure he’s trying so hard to outrun, so he does what he can to shut that shit DOWN. Just a theory.

Males also have a typically strong and aggressive sex drive that demands regular satisfaction. Biology. It just IS. So it is no mystery nor shock nor anything new under the sun when every single male on the planet frequently satisfies themselves in the most efficient ways without “toil” or risk of frustration or rejection in coordinating with an equally-willing Woman by taking it into their own hands, so to speak, with the help of readily available visual aids. But there is also taking it by force and through deception/coercion. Survey a group of 20 women and 19 of us can tell you the first time we were groped, harassed, or sexually violated. All of us can tell you the constant pressure we feel to be enough to satisfy a man along with everything else we’ve got going on with our bodies and brains.

Long story short – humans are ALL sexually frustrated and incredibly insecure. Being a truly satisfied human – mind, body, and soul – isn’t easy and only we as individuals are responsible for it, but most of us give up trying and settle for an endless string of cheap fixes outside ourselves to get us by, especially when life gets overwhelming. Add the handicap of having the body/brain hijacked as a child (which is the tragic case for SO many) and…well, it’s a jungle out there and there’s a lot of carnage that perpetuates with each generation. We are, as humans, truly cursed.

If my mind wasn’t hardwired for satisfaction through intimacy and connection with an actual person (one in particular after all these years) and I could be stimulated that easily with externally accessible equipment less than an arm’s length away at all times, I’d be every guy too. I honestly wish it were that simple for me. It would make my current (and possibly permanent) situation a lot easier to come to terms with.

Y’all know where I’m going with this and the only reason I am is to take away the stigma and power once and for all. There is nothing that has happened that is truly any earth shattering thing. As a matter of psychology (not morality) my husband took it farther than some and I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s where most men wish they could and plenty already are and they are your neighbor, your boss, your pastor, your brother, your son and your husband.

Everybody has done the math by now, and math was one of the reasons why I felt I had no other option than to go public. Care and provision for the family were being compromised. Because of the psychology involved (as explained in the previous post), there has been no private rational discussion possible. I’ve been desperately trying for over a year now. All he can do with me is deflect and dismiss and spin. He could barely ever talk about very minor things he’d done that hurt me, so expand that out to our current situation and…there is just no way. It is too much. He is not going to pull out of this any other way. But I have faith he can, at least to some extent, if he has nowhere left to run and no reason to. He has always been able to turn on a dime and switch out an addiction when it stops serving him. I’ve done what amounts to an intervention to make that the case. He doesn’t want to be that man, and now that it’s out of the shadows, he won’t.

This isn’t about sex. This isn’t about betrayal or a moral failure. It is about a Man, like any other, crushed under the weight of despair…except he’s not just any other man, he’s the love of my life and the father of my children and by far the most influential person in terms of shaping my spiritual life. There is no me without him. He surfaced enough the last time I saw him to be able to say the same – that there is no him without me. We are one flesh and one life. Nothing he has done or will ever do can nullify that.

I have no idea what we’re capable of being next, but I do know I’ve got to crush the Snake’s head NOW to stop the hissing lies of fear so that the Man can at least have a shot at living and we can eventually come back together as…something good, whatever that looks like, anywhere on the spectrum of possibility.

As I said before, he was there for me when I had my mental/emotional breakdown at the beginning of our journey with Four Creeks. Now I’ve got to be there for him as he broke at the end, and this, believe it or not, is what it has to look like. It’s because I’ve done the work to understand us (with professional help) that I’ve been able to figure out his language, learn not to be afraid when the most horrific things come out of him, and recognize they are a spotlight on what he feels the worst about himself that he cannot handle and therefore HAS to project on me. It is all he can do when he is consumed by fear and failure. The Curse of Man crushed him hard. As I said previously, no one could survive what we’ve been through without breaking. No one could be as isolated and vulnerable as he is right now without being utterly terrified and at rock bottom. We may process and express our humanity in vastly different ways, but I know that desperate place all too well and I cannot and will not abandon him there.

The only way to end this is to simply say out loud what is real and then let him see that the worst that is going to happen is that there are a whole lot of people who love us and nothing otherwise has changed. He has lost nothing, he will lose nothing, and he is free from here to do whatever he can and will with all pressure off from me.

There is nothing more for anyone to fear. Nothing more for anyone to hide and no reason to. There is no shame. There is no condemnation. There is only love. This is why I must finish the story and be done so we can all be free to love.

Reality IS Redemption

What Jimmy and I are experiencing is universally common to humanity AND ALSO personally devastating. And you know what? I GET TO TALK ABOUT MY OWN LIFE as the whole person I AM now using my own discretion alone to decide what is wise, what is good, what is beneficial, and what is love. I am a Woman who thinks, feels and now speaks without any fear. The truth has set me free and now I’m using that freedom to set other captives free. I picked up my own cross, shared in the sufferings of Jesus with countless agonized tears, kicked over a few tables in the temple because YES, I WAS ANGRY, I went all the way to that humiliating and torturous death alone, and I rise now to new life having conquered sin and death – AKA what it means to be a fucking Christian.

I had planned on writing a narrative of events from the beginning of Four Creeks to the end, but then They – The God That Definitely IS – dropped this in my lap this morning in the Facebook memories from 2 years ago and made it so much easier and beyond perfect. Jimmy and I are going out as we went in – together. We are BOTH going to tell the final chapter that was already written. We are BOTH prophets in the way of Jesus. We lived it out in front of you, gave everything to all, went all the way into death and now we’re ascending outa here. Stop standing around looking forlorn up at the sky waiting for us to come back and do some more miracles for ya. You’ve got everything you need. Get off your ass and walk the path yourself, set yourself free…or don’t. As for me and my house – we are on to life abundant.

The Final Chapter as told by Jennifer and Jimmy Dickenson

 

 

 

Living Above the Curse (Part 2 – Desire)

Are all men jerks? Of course. So are all women. We’re all assholes – foolish, narcissistic assholes, every single last one of us. Sexism in every form – misogyny, misandry; bigotry, racism, war, murder, rape, deception, thievery, slander, tyranny…all different flavors and labels for the same reality – humans are wired to be dicks, to themselves and each other, and there ain’t a one of us who, if we aren’t outright swimming in one of these, hasn’t at least dipped their toes in them ALL at one time or another and will consistently do so as long as we are breathing. Like I said in the last installment – we’re all cursed. That’s universal. The individual hows and whys are uniquely personal, and (as I’m going to keep circling back to) every aspect of being human falls on a spectrum.

Despite what any human tribe insists (and humans are wired for connection, so we ALL tribe up with whomever makes us feel most protected), there are no absolutes, no certainties, no “should be’s” no “have to be’s.” Nope. There just IS. This idea is all that remains now that everything else has been burned away. Everything is an AND ALSO

We are each and every one of us sacred images of God, capable of incarnating love and redemption AND ALSO complete idiot assholes capable of great, GREAT harm to ourselves and each another – often at the same time even within the same breath. I am, of course, absolutely no exception.

I am also fully aware that me admitting this out loud is what makes me so damn scary to so many people. Nobody wants to admit this about themselves. We all want to imagine we are immune, so we indulge in that original sin – fall for the lie and partake of the forbidden fruit that somehow we alone know the secrets to “getting it right” and hold the true knowledge of good and evil and how to apply it which manifests by obsessing on how everyone else is getting everything so wrong and trying to control everyone and everything in life but ourselves.

Ourselves in the moment is all any of us ever have control of. As such, I am, in this moment, taking control of my own life, ripping the band aid off, and writing the final chapter of the Exodus from Church World, the grand climax being the very public implosion of my marriage.

Is it the most excruciating and impossible thing I’ve lived through to date? Absolutely.

AND ALSO

It really is nothing special. There is no scandal or “moral failure” here. It’s just what it is to be human and to go through life. None of us gets out alive, much less unscathed. We all take our turn at being the oppressors and the oppressed. There are no bad guys or evil people in this story, only sacred, very worthy, very redeemable humans. “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

I’m under a great deal of pressure from all sides not to talk about any of it and have been shamed and threatened every step of the way for the last 6 or 7 years for not only openly expressing what is happening in my own goddamn life out loud but also my natural human emotions of sadness and anger associated with grief and loss that have been inherent in this process. It threatens the ability to self-protect and pretend of everyone else around me, and when people feel threatened they do very, very stupid, harmful things. It is because I understand this that I do not hate. It is because I understand this that I forgive. It is because I recognize this in myself that I declare there are no bad guys or anyone at fault or in need of punishment (because I surely want mercy and grace for myself). It is because I understand this that I’m still (perhaps delusionally) holding out for a spectacularly redemptive end to this story.

There just IS what is and I’ve got to deal with it as best I can.

By putting it all out there as honestly as possible (what I’ve been doing all this time in all my writing) is to expose the lie (the snake) that seeks to kill and destroy for the powerless nothing it really is. A lie can’t do anything to you in and of itself. You have to believe it and act on it for it to do any harm, and the harm is always self-inflicted and then deflected outward on others from self.

I’m setting everyone involved, myself first, free from the lie so we can ALL stop spinning around in the muck, get up, and get to living.

It is my great relief and pleasure to once and for all expose to anyone and everyone my own unique fucked-up-ed-ness and curses.

The Curse of Desire

“Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.”

Hello, my name is Jennifer Dickenson and I have attachment issues. I fall under the spectrum of class C personality disorders as a fearful avoidant. On a scale of 1 to 10 (10 being utterly unable to function in a relationship) I’d grade myself about an 8.5. At least I did before I died. Fear is no longer an issue as there is absolutely nothing left in this life for me to fear. The worst (for me as far as things I fear most) has happened in spectacular fashion, and it needed to be epic in direct proportion to my extreme survival coping mechanisms that I relied on to keep me numb and “safe” all these years. There’s nothing left now that I’m utterly destroyed. No shame, no avoidance, no self-protecting…but let me back up. This is who I WAS for 45 years before I died and why.

Family of Origin

If you have parents and family (no matter how exceptionally nurturing and supportive or exceptionally not) then you’ve got issues, because parents are human holy assholes too. Add abuse, neglect, or loss into the family dynamic and the issues become exponentially more complex and extreme. Point is again, none of us gets into or out of this life unscathed. We all have unique family-of-origin genetic and experiential curses.

It is being faced with my own human holy assholery as a parent that gives me all the respect and admiration for my own parents now as an adult even as I deal with our family-of-origin issues. The family I was born to is exceedingly wonderful AND ALSO unique in its very real dysfunctions.

I have a brilliant, kind, extremely passive and avoidant father. I have a much-more-brilliant-than-she-realizes mother who is not at all passive. She learned from her family of origin that there is a certain “right” way of being and doing and that her identity and worth and therefore her family’s (female – connected through her flesh) depended on staying within that “safe” and “right” way.

I have elements of both. Despite how I come across in writing, my speaking voice and mannerisms in person are very non-confrontational and, for the most part, shy and reserved. I’m actually extremely passive about most things and am most comfortable shying away from a challenge or fight. I don’t like it. I don’t like to be uncomfortable and I absolutely HATE making other people feel uncomfortable. It’s the worst as far as I’m concerned. But you push certain buttons in me that I care deeply about and I get super NOT passive really quick, especially if they are connected to the things that I am connected to through my flesh as a woman.

The easiest, least confrontational path to acceptance for me has always been to substitute avoidance of criticism for love. That’s my #1 survival mechanism/dysfunction from childhood that I carried through and relied on throughout my life. The price for that was to deny my own honest thoughts and feelings, stuff them down to the point of not even being aware they existed, and to put all energy towards being the good girl doing the “right” and “safe” things as dictated by someone else. Anyone else. Just never myself. I handed over my own power and autonomy out of desire for acceptance. No one took it. It’s no one’s fault or failure. It just IS because I’m human raised by a tribe of humans.

We also moved on average of every 2 years growing up. Sincere, meaningful relationships are extremely important to me. I can’t stand surface level anything relationship wise. That’s why I avoid most relationships until I recognize something authentic that makes it worth it to me. I wanted to belong and be accepted SO bad wherever I went, but just about the time I’d start to feel like I was known and accepted by the herd (school and church), it was time to uproot and move again.

Enter the teenage years and awakening of desire for the opposite sex in combination with those dysfunctions and you had a girl with very low self esteem, desperately wanting relationship, but horribly insecure about how to go about initiating one and therefore found herself saying “yes” to any boy who showed interest in her. Surely another one wasn’t going to come along and she’d better latch on to whichever one would want her. Then once in a relationship, she felt a sense of obligation and responsibility for the boy’s feelings – not her own. Remember, she didn’t HAVE feelings or wants of her own. In her mind it was right and safe to place those outside herself.

By age 18 I’d broken someone’s heart because I’d stayed with him out of a sense of obligation for his feelings and not my own for far too long, and I turned to another boy who showed interest in me to break it off with him, not out of romantic love but as another manifestation of my dysfunction and insecurity. But I was right back in the same situation of feeling responsible for the feelings of a boy, so I stayed with him because surely another wouldn’t want me and I didn’t want to hurt him the way I’d hurt the other. That boy, that sacred human, son of a mother whose heart and flesh were ripped apart forever, would be dead less than a year later because he loved me.

The reality of that was too much. I dissociated. I stuffed that horror down deep and ran hard by jumping back into freshman college life as if it had never happened. That is the traumatized, dissociated, nowhere near in my right mind (if I ever had one to begin with) condition I was in when I met Jimmy. I was a girl consumed by her own curses who fell for a boy consumed by his own. We were a codependent match made in heaven, destined from the very start to go through hell together. It could be no other way because we are each who we are. It is our story and it IS a love story because it is a life story. It is a human story.

A year to the day of the anniversary of the death of my boyfriend, Jimmy proposed to me. I technically knew this as it happened, but I simply would not allow myself to consider the implications or significance or absurdity of any of it. The curse of my desire was way too strong at that point – the desire for none of the trauma and horror to be real – desire for this Man I desperately wanted in every way for the first time in my life to be the “right” man who would take care of me and be the one to hand over the reigns of my life to. He never took a thing from me. I in my dysfunction and utter brokenness projected on to him everything he never had the capacity to be. All things considered, I’m incredibly proud of us both. We did the best we could with what we knew as who we are and that was pretty wonderful AND ALSO that old way of being together absolutely needs to die now.

Yes, a man ruled over me for 26 years, not because he is malicious or predatory in any way – HE IS NOT – I handed over my power and control out of my own desires – period.

Breaking the Curse

I know I’ve done a lot of talking about narcissism in relation to Jimmy. This is not a character flaw or moral failure in the least any more than is being an introvert or extrovert. It just IS an aspect of personality. Truth is we’re ALL on the spectrum and have narcissistic tendencies. My husband just happens to be heavy on one end of it and there are plenty of other humans out there on that end with him. He is the dismissive avoidant to my fearful one. On a scale of 1-10 (10 being a true sociopath) I’d rate him an 8.5 when he’s in his right mind and functioning. He has a tremendous amount of compassion and tenderness. It’s just compacted in the 1.5 and difficult to access and operate out of in ways most people conventionally do. But he DOES. He has been good to me and his children. He is a good man, and everything about our life in ministry together has been genuine.

He has his own family-of-origin curses and I know what they are and how they have shaped him, but his story is not mine to tell aside from the parts that are connected to my own. What I can tell you are aspects of his personality that have always been there and are not anything I haven’t always been aware of. Now they just make total and complete sense. To understand the why and the how is making all the difference in being able to let my desires for the husband I’ve wanted him to be die in order to truly love the husband I actually have.

Some of Jimmy’s defining characteristics that I no longer resent and can now accept for being what they are since taking control of my own life and allowing my desire to die:

  1. Elevated and grandiose thinking of oneself. He is, in actuality, quite brilliant and handsome, so there’s a lot to admire and appreciate. However, when he neglects the 1.5 it gets fucking ridiculous.
  2. Strong desire to dream and take risks – really big ones.
  3. Reluctance to see anything through to completion and abandoning projects/people in favor of a new dream/plan/exciting fix.
  4. Addictive personality.
  5. Great difficulty self-evaluating from a negative angle or admitting failure. Again, he CAN so he’s not a true narcissist in the clinical sense, but DAYUM is it excruciating for him to do so and he almost never will unless forced to, and if you manage to get him to that point he dissolves into a massive pile of pitiful butt hurt in direct proportion to the amount of dismissiveness and deflection he used to fight it. It’s why individuals high on this particular spectrum are so adept at gaslighting and why they do it.
  6. Tendency towards delusional thinking and flipping the script in the face of pain or fear rather than acknowledging and dealing with reality.
  7. Greatest fear is rejection and abandonment – hence all the extreme survival mechanisms to compensate.

Again, I cannot emphasize enough that my husband, though exceedingly opportunistic, is not at all malicious. I also cannot emphasize enough how genuine he has been throughout our lives together, especially in ministry – super especially Four Creeks. He and I both were operating exclusively out of our respective 1.5’s for an extended number of years. That took its toll. He was there for me when I came undone at the beginning of our journey with Four Creeks. I have to do what I can for him now that he has broken…and he has.

He broke and gave up over a year ago. No one could go through what we have without breaking, not even the superman he imagined himself to be. And when superman goes down – he goes down hard. When he is in his right mind at 8.5, he’s functional and loving. When his mind trips and he loses all hope, he goes from 8.5 to 11 into true sociopath territory. He did it in the beginning of our marriage and I knew when he’d done it again a year ago, I just didn’t know exactly what or how bad and I knew I couldn’t afford to until the right time or one of us might not come out of it alive – and I mean that quite literally. Twice in my life have I contemplated suicide, each one in the bookends of trauma in our marriage. Had this come out while I was in Visalia I don’t think I would have survived it. Not there. Not in that desperate place of rejection and isolation. I had to get out here to my family and find the strength to stand on my own first.

The timing has been everything. The only way out was to bring it into the light and expose reality and there was no easy, dignified or sanitized way to do it. I know this man and I knew he COULD NOT do it himself. I knew what I was giving up for myself as well as the condemnation and criticism I was inviting by going public (my biggest fears). But as a woman no longer held captive to her fears and desires I knew when I was ready to stop being a codependent and rise as Ezer. Jimmy is alone and vulnerable and drowning in HIS worst fears right now without me as the codependent he’s relied on to function our entire adult lives together. He needs all the love and support anyone and everyone can possibly give him to figure out how to be in this new reality. We need him to be OK and to come back to some level of sanity and functioning. He has lost nothing but his ability to hide. Everything, including me, is here and available to him in whatever capacity he is able to come back to. Without any reservation I will accept and work with whatever that is.

For those concerned about our kids, they are saving our lives and being absolutely amazing. All four of them are SO over their parents at this point, and it is for them that I am getting this final chapter out so that we can move on together – all 6 of us – in whatever capacity we are able. The 2 adults in their wisdom have removed themselves as far away from the drama both personally and online as possible and are focused solely on their own lives, as they absolutely should be. I am so very, very proud of them. The youngest two are amazingly resilient and are helping me pull my own head out of my ass (especially Libby) as fast as I can. As soon as I get this final chapter out, the focus and momentum is squarely back on them – again – as it absolutely should be and needs to be. There is a lot of exciting and joyous life to experience this year and we quickly need to get to a place of being able to live it.

I have only one more installment for the Curses – The Curse of Man – which is going to reinforce even further just how good a man my husband is and how very NOT shocking or “immoral” anything that has happened is in reality. Then one more piece of art as a goodbye/love letter to the old us and then…? I don’t know. I do know there will be no more talking openly about our marriage or him personally from that point on. The old us WAS for everyone. The new is exclusively ours, whatever that’s going to be. I had to finish the story though. How could I not? I’m narcissistic enough to believe it is of great cosmic significance and needs to be told for not only our own freedom and healing but also for that of many others.

Living Above the Curse (Part 1 – Woman)

If you are reading this you are obviously human, and as such, dear human, I have some wonderful bad news for you – You are cursed.

All y’all, without exception.

The wonderful part is that you are not alone in your cursedness. It totally makes you human and connects you to all humanity in all space and time. Your curses are inherent in your biology and psychology.

There are many flavors and degrees, but the truth of being human remains – we all come into this world stocked with a unique set of genetic and family-of-origin dysfunctions that constantly drag us down away from being able to love ourselves and therefore each other. I’ve been on a journey to get real with my own and my family’s unique fucked-up-ed-ness for 10 years now ever since something Wholly Holy Other stirred in me as Liberty Grace was being knitted together in my womb, asking if I was willing to go all the way and to consider the great personal cost involved. I said “yes,” and the ride and the connection to that Wholly Holy Other – Them – has been unrelenting, beautiful, brutal and REAL every day since.

As I said before, I’ve read and understood the bible for myself since early childhood. I’m going to unpack symbolism from the Genesis account of the creation and The Fall of Man that I’ve seen for a very long time as well as things I’m just now finally being able to understand with great personal significance.

Here’s the base of understanding I’m coming from that you need to know going in that in the old life I’d have wasted energy defending but now ain’t got any in reserve left to do so:

  1. I don’t take the Genesis account literally, and for me to do so is the height of ridiculous willful ignorance and misses the inherent sacred metaphor that holds all value in the text. If you really want to argue the reality of a talking snake and that all of us originate from 2 humans that were poofed into existence a few thousand years ago, much less believe in a “loving” God who would condemn all humanity to suffering and death because the original duo added some enticing forbidden fiber to their diet, then I just don’t have time for you. Seriously. Move along.
  2.  Our ancients knew what was up and wrote (after who knows how long orally passing down this creation myth) a stunningly rich take on what it is to be and relate as Women and Men.
  3. Patriarchy and misogyny are inherent in our biology and psychology as human animals. To rise above our animal nature (curses) in order to love ourselves and each other is what it means to be uniquely made in the image of and to commune with and incarnate Whatever God There Is.
  4. Gender, sexuality, and personality are fluid and on a vast spectrum, and you and I and all of humanity that has ever existed fall in unique places all along it. It’s an objective fact of nature. Again, if you can’t acknowledge that basic reality, move along. I ain’t got time or care to argue with you. For the purposes of this particular blog post, I’m speaking from my own perspective as a heterosexual cisgender woman relating to heterosexual cisgender man (look it up if you are unfamiliar with any of those terms).

Here’s the bible study you are never going to get in my former tribe that I’m going to unpack as efficiently as I can –

It Is Not Good For Man to Be Alone – Creation of Woman

But for Adam no suitable *MATE WITH STRENGTH TO SAVE HIM* was found. 21 So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs[g] and then closed up the place with flesh. 22 Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib[h] he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.

23 The man said,

“This is now bone of my bones
    and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called ‘woman,’
    for she was taken out of man.”

24 That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.

25 Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.

Take away points:
  1. * The Hebrew word “Ezer” that Western self-proclaimed Bros of God translated and adapted to fit their own purposes as “helpmate” is the word used throughout the Old Testament for God coming to the rescue and saving His people. This Woman – Ezer – is uniquely endowed with a divine strength to “help” her Man by saving his ass as he is helpless alone.
  2. Man was made from dirt. Woman, the final crowning act of creation, was made from FLESH. How much of a Man’s sexual psyche and drive is about satisfying his own flesh by seeking FLESH outside himself? How connected to the care and maintenance of FLESH (her own, her children’s and her mate) is a Woman? All FLESH is perpetually created in and comes forth from Woman. Marinate on those gender differences in relation to FLESH for a while.
  3. In the original unadulterated (un-cursed) union of Man and Woman THERE IS NO SHAME and they are ONE flesh united. Jesus would later say, “Fools, don’t fuck with this sacred connection God has established for your mutual good” (slight paraphrase).
Then the Snake/Deceiver/Liar targeted and appealed to the mind of fleshy Eve (not dirt man who was right there with her…hmmmm) and bada bing, bada boom, they each partook of the one thing humans don’t have the capacity to handle but always are drawn to anyway in an attempt to achieve equality with God – the knowledge to judge good and evil themselves. Gender-specific curses ensued and the Sacred Oneness of flesh was broken for the now shame-filled Woman and Man.

A Woman’s Curse

14 So the Lord God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this,

“Cursed are you above all livestock
    and all wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly
    and you will eat dust
    all the days of your life.

And I will put enmity

    between you and the woman,
    and between your offspring[a] and hers;
he will crush[b] your head,
    and you will strike his heel.”

16 To the woman he said,

“I will make your pains in childbearing very severe;
    with painful labor you will give birth to children.
Your desire will be for your husband,
    and he will rule over you.”

Goddammit, a woman can’t even go to the bathroom herself much less be left alone to her own curse. She doesn’t even have the luxury of dealing with just one either. Hers are MULTIPLE and connected to everyone else’s – the snake, her children, and her husband – through her flesh.

 

Of course a woman herself ain’t above lying and manipulating, but have you noticed how severe a reaction you typically get from a girl who’s been betrayed and lied to? “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” an English Bro Dude poet once observed. It’s because you didn’t just lie to and betray HER. You lie to and betray and threaten EVERYTHING SHE’S CONNECTED TO.

 

My mind and heart violated and gutted through deception? Check

 

My flesh violated by being exposed to potential risks without my consent, blindsided and brutally stripped of my own sexual expression and enjoyment? Check

 

My maternal nurturing, protective nature violated as resources to care for my children consistently squandered and pissed away by dirt man’s jacked up drive to fulfill his own flesh by denying the flesh of his wife and children (too much work and fear of rejection and failure there) in favor of “free” flesh that only costs money ? Check

 

Needless to say, but I’m saying it even though my dirt man who forgot he’s God breathed is desperate for me not to – my enmity for the deceiving snake of misogynistic patriarchy is fully awakened and engaged, and the fruit of my intensely painful labor over the last 45 years as a Woman? Through writing, I’m giving birth and multiplying a legion about to rise up and do some skull crushing.

 

Let me be very clear. I am at war with the snake who stalks and eventually entraps us ALL. I am NOT at war with nor do I wish to destroy the man I love, despite his vehement insistence that this is what I’m doing just by talking about the reality of what has been done.

 

There is only love for the Man, MY Man to whom I am connected for life. Ezer has been fully awakened and is in full blown “do what you’ve got to do to redeem your helpless Man who’s cornered himself” mode. This includes enduring the worst he can throw at me verbally as he shrieks and spins to try and stay out of the light that can save him. Friends and family (especially the women in his life), don’t go after him in anger or judgment. Trust me on this, not only does it do no good, it only makes things worse and sends him diving even deeper away from the thing he fears the most. He is an utterly broken soul drowning in massive self-loathing and sense of failure. He’s absolutely convinced he’s so special as to be beyond redemption. He is special, just not in the ways the snake has always tempted him to believe he is.

 

This is going to be a 3-part series, the next post dedicated specifically to the female curse of desire that entices a Woman to hand over her power and strength to be ruled over and used by a Man. The final installment will focus on the Curse of Man (dirt man is only given one to fumble with) that will help you understand, as I do, how easily we got to this point in life and how, despite what most would believe including himself, my husband is absolutely worth it all and is in no way beyond redemption and full restoration. He is a remarkable, miraculous, worthy human.

 

That’s the case for every human – all y’all without exception. We cannot escape our curses, but there surely is salvation and redemption HERE and NOW to live above them if we are willing to go all the way into the refining fire.

 

Into the fire we all must go, one way or the other, and we all must go alone. The Woman cursed was consumed by the flames. Ezer now rises from the ashes with the strength and grace to save.

I AM

Happy, Happy new year and a warm and massive cyber hug to all as we enter 2017. I’ll take and freely give all the hugs and love and kindness possible wherever they are found.

I’m going to use my first post of the new year to introduce myself as the new me that has actually always been. There are some things about me you should know to put everything I write going forward into some context. There was a time in my old life when I would have written separate blog posts for each of these things, explaining them in detail in the hopes of persuading people to at least respect what I see instead of shitting on me for it.

Life has radically changed for me, and ain’t nobody got time for that in the new life that is. So much shit has rained down on me that I now dance in it and make art rather than try to outrun it or hide, or worse, deny its existence or try to pretty it up to be something it’s not (LIE).

The old life was 25 years of marriage, 22 of those spent in evangelical christian ministry together, the last 5 of which we (Love of My Life and I) embarked on an exodus out of Church World to plant a funky little honest church ourselves that was doomed to “fail” from the start because it was one where any human of any persuasion, any belief or lack thereof, was welcome to participate, love and be loved as is. We gave up everything and ultimately ended up losing more than we’d ever imagined possible – our very lives together – though isn’t that exactly what Jesus said was the price to be considered? Anyhooo, that truly is for a separate blog post.

So, in the new life (whatever that’s now totally free to be), here’s a quick summation of my current (and fluid) theology/psychology/ideology/methodology around which everything I say and do emerges, and I care not one whit what anyone thinks of it. If you follow my writing for whatever reason, even if only as a vulture to feast on the carcass of my family to poop out as gossipy judgment (why would you stop now after the last 5 years of pecking away at our flesh before we were even fully dead?), knowing the following will at least put things in perspective:

  • All God talk is human talk. All we have are human ideas about God. The only experience we have of Whatever God There Is happens in the gray matter between our ears, individually. The second anyone tries to enforce any idea of God as absolute certainty is the second I smile politely and disengage. The second anyone does harm to others with their god-in-their-own-twisted-image certainty is the second I go into verbal smack down mode. I have no pride, shame or fear left in me to cause me to either shrink back or have any further need to self preserve, defend or explain myself. I’ve never been more confident and peacefully assured in my faith and absolute uncertainty than I AM now.
  • I have always had an awareness of and communed with Something Other both wholly outside myself and wholly inside myself that I learned to call God since my earliest memories, around age 3 or 4. It was always plural – a They – and there was a definite female component. I never thought to question it as it fit perfectly into my Tribe’s doctrines of the Trinity, with the exception of the female part. I’ve always gone against the grain of my tradition and personified the Holy Spirit as female, though also knew very early on to keep that shit to myself if I wanted the belonging and acceptance (which was THE most important thing to me) of my Tribe.
  • I AM is the identifier God gave Moses. Jesus invoked I AM for himself, and that’s good enough for me. I simply AM. What is, IS. God is existence. God is reality. To be who I AM with full integrity and to let everyone and everything BE what it IS without inserting my own desires and agenda for any of it is, to me, to engage, participate in, and BE the divinity that is inherent in being human.
  • I’ve always read and understood the bible for myself for what it is since childhood – and loved it. I never really found value in taking any of it literally, though I forced myself to suppress my true instincts and knowing in order, again, to be accepted by my Tribe. To question the “inerrant” literal truth of the bible meant brutal and immediate rejection. To do it as a girl at any age? Forget it. More shit I absolutely knew to keep to myself – even from myself until recent years.
  • Whatever meaning or “truth” to be found in life is in metaphor, patterns, echos, cycles, seasons…and the bible is my endlessly rich base source for the poetic language I use to tell my own story and I will continue to dive into and mine scripture in order to do so, now more than ever. But I am not bound or restricted by it. Sacred metaphor is absolutely everywhere and I call it when I see it, however, wherever it presents itself. “Love Thy Neighbor As Thyself” is echoed throughout all cultures, eras, ancients and contemporaries, poets, artists, children, old women, heathens and holy men alike – and I pay attention to them all. If I had life to do over, I’d be a professor of anthropology and religious studies. As a profession it’s not practical at this point, but the studying and going wherever my fascination takes me is just getting started. It is an exciting time to awaken and go after my own life.
  • I AM a Christian, an identifier I’ve decided to keep for myself alone and to myself alone without any further need to justify or explain my right or reason for doing so ever again. I identify my entire story, my entire life with Jesus and the birth/life/death/resurrection metaphor of his and the sharing in his sufferings of rejection and humiliation that I’ve gone all the way and lived out and will continue to cycle through until my last breath. Salvation and redemption are to be lived out HERE – NOW.

The above picture is me at age 7 (AKA the real Princess Leia), the last time I was the most me as I AM that I can remember before learning, as we all do, to shove the truth of my divine self down deep, believing that was the only way to be worthy of human love. I’ve missed that sweet nerd so much. Almost 40 years later, she’s back. She’s awake. She has surfaced, and she’s gunna rock the world.

Agony of Light

The hardest part is not the darkness. No. You can still imagine things to look much better than you feel them to be in the shadows; imagine things to be what you wish them to be, need them to be, want them to be.

No, it’s the light that is devastatingly hard and why most avoid all but selective exposure. One cannot pretend in the light for their own comfort or false notions of safety or perfection.

I brought (have been bringing) my entire self into the light for a while now. I was not in any way prepared for the very last things to come out, which in actuality were THE thing it’s all been leading up to. I guess it would be more accurate to say I was finally ready to see BECAUSE of all I’ve been through – to have to acknowlege just how dependent I’ve been on “love” in the shadows – the idea of something I wanted it to be verses the reality of what it actually is.

My physical circumstances have more or less been the same for quite a while and will not be radically changing. I’ve been sleeping (when I’m lucky) and crying alone in bed and have been carrying the bulk of child raising for years.

But what is the thing that terrifies and crushes me? It’s the exposure of an idea that I’ve clung to my whole life as false that causes the most intense pain I’ve ever experienced. What a strange thing to admit…to be violently detoxing from the loss of an idea like it was heroin. But that’s exactly what it feels like. I’ve needed someone to be something they could never be and I numbed and sabotaged and stole from myself, denied my instincts and my true knowing and handed over my power in order to get and keep the fix I thought I couldn’t live without – to believe he was what he was not and could not be – to place an impossible burden on him. It’s what we’re all conditioned to do to each other. He and I are, and have always been, extreme cases. We don’t do subtle…ever.

In the light, there is only love most real for whole persons (myself first) separate from any selfishly projected ideas or expectations of them. It is a brutal, brutal detox to let go of my desires and let it all be whatever it will while resisting the urge to counter spin in my favor as every fiber of my being screams for resolution and relief!! But the light is no fix. It is the abrupt and harsh exposure of what truly IS.

I have to let whatever IS – BE…hands off…free to be and do and be seen for what it is by whoever can and will.

The darkness will kill ya, but damn do I miss how good it felt even at its worst compared to this. The light feels every bit like torture and death right now.

I have moments of unprecedented clarity and calmness that punctuate the baseline aching void of despair that at times swells so intensely that I feel like I could literally drown in the feeling of loss and fear and “I DON’T WANT THIS!”

God, please have mercy and get me through this withdrawal to a place of peace, wholeness and love in myself. 45 years worth is a lot to work out of my system to get clean.

The only way out is through and there is no going back or unseeing. Woe to those who have seen and known the light and then reject and deny it, because that is the blackest self-imposed darkness rooted in a self-loathing lie that will kill all ability to genuinely love or accept love fast and permanent.

I exposed the love of my life who is a part of me to the light he once used to guide me to, and then I let go as a final (and first, really) act of unselfish love for him. To do so meant the death of my addiction and codependency and sent me reeling into this tortuous detox. There is nothing but pain for me in it. He has kicked and screamed and spat and spun violently all the way, directed just at me, because he knows I will not and cannot hide anything anymore. It all comes into the light, but I cannot keep him with me there.

Whether in light or darkness, he is who he is and will always be the love of my life.

Into the fire we all must go, one way or the other, and we all must go alone. All I can do is be my own light and to do so I must burn.

Mama, Help Me

All The Best

ALL THE BEST

I wish you love
And happiness
I guess I wish you
All the best
I wish you don’t
Do like I do
And ever fall in love with
Someone like you
Cause if you fell
Just like I did
You’d probably walk around the block
Like a little kid.
But kids don’t know
They can only guess
How hard it is
To wish you happiness

I guess that love
Is like a Christmas card
You decorate a tree
You throw it in the yard
It decays and dies
And the snowmen melt
Well I once knew love
I knew how love felt
Yeah I knew love
Love knew me
And when I walked
Love walked with me
And I got no hate
And I got no pride
Well I got so much love
That I cannot hide

Say you drive a Chevy
Say you drive a Ford
You say you drive around the town
Till you just get bored
Then you change your mind
For something else to do
And your heart gets bored with your mind
And it changes you
Well it’s a doggone shame
And it’s an awful mess
I wish you love
I wish you happiness
I wish you love
I wish you happiness
I guess I wish you
All the best

John Prine, artist

 

Stranger Things

The Upside Down had you for a year. I understand completely how it took you in an instant…after 24 years doing all you could do, all the “right” things to try and outrun the Monster. It got you anyway. It got you, Baby. I see it. I see it. You did all you could do and so much more than any Man I know would have or could have to outrun it and hide…but it got you. I see it, Baby.

I know I ain’t your Mama, but it is a Mama’s heart, a Woman’s instinct and connection with her Flesh to the flesh of her family who has the strength and fierceness to do whatever she has to do to reach you.

As long as we’re diving into metaphor, let’s go back to the ancient and most familiar one in which you and I were born into and grew out of.

I ain’t no fucking “helpmate” who just has to take it to hold up and serve her Man, though the Deceiver, the Snake of misogynistic patriarchy did a bang up job of convincing all of us that is what and who a Woman is.

No, this Woman made of Flesh as the final crowning act of creation (Man came forth from dirt) is Ezer – strength to save. That is the original word attributed to Woman in relation to Man. Everywhere else you find it used in the OT is in relation to God saving His people.

Ezer was awakened the second you were snatched into the Upside Down. Yeah, she’s been panicked and crying and screaming and crazed. It’s what a Woman does when she KNOWS her love is alive but in grave danger but doesn’t know where or how to reach him. She gets bold and doesn’t care how many people tell her she’s “too angry” or “too sad” and to “just get over it.” She doesn’t even care that everyone thinks she’s gone raving mad painting the walls, tearing holes in them and speaking to Christmas lights. It is what a Woman who is fully awake and aware DOES. It is who she IS. It is who I AM.

At just the right time, my ally and partner appeared. Chief Hopper. My Litter-Mate. The only other person who could see and understand and go in with me after you; the transgender female love warrior wholly/holy EZER, who saw me and believed me and went with me. She was the only one at just the right time. I could not do it alone. I could never have done it alone.

And we got to you just in time. Come on, Baby, come on, Baby, not now, not like this – BREATHE. I’ll breath into you, just come back to us, come back to us, LIVE!

I see all you did even in the Upside Down to try and survive and hold on. Even there, especially there, the Man fought to stay alive to love. I see the Man. I love the Man. He is not the Monster.

The Upside Down had you for a year. Ezer had the strength to save. Ezer has the strength to nurture as you transition back to life. I know the flashes of the Upside Down still assault you. I see the slug monster things coming up and out. I see it, Baby. I see it. Don’t retreat off by yourself to try and handle it yourself to spare us (but let’s get real – yourself) discomfort. Not after what I’ve seen and done. You need Ezer now more than ever, and she is here.

It is not good for Man to be alone.

I have no idea what’s in store for any of us in Season Two. We’re just going to have to go forward and live it. For now, I’m happy to rest in the overwhelming relief that the Man I love is alive and to have a very merry Christmas.

But Thanksgiving has always been and will forever be our holiday.

My Life in Pictures

I held a funeral for my life, our life, in pictures yesterday. It was an odd but necessary few hours of letting go; odd in that I was the only one in attendance and, unlike most funerals where photos are brought out and displayed, I was permanently putting away and deleting.

One by one our smiling faces, snuggling bodies, tender stances of 25 years from the beginning to the end removed from digital memory and social media documentation. The “perfect” couple, the “perfect” family no longer on display. Some still exist as hard copies buried in boxes in the home where we built a life together and loved two more lives into existence. Some adorn the walls. They are yours now. Most have been deleted into nothingness, never to be seen again except in my mind’s eye where they can never be erased. It is where they belong and will forever remain as they were only ever truly mine to begin with  – my reality that I loved sharing with the world – until that world disintegrated.

I was happy in each one, a genuine permeating fullness kind of happy that I only feel when I’m close to you. Each and every picture of the two of us elicited dozens of glowing comments from friends and family.

Now, they are just mine. My mental timeline. My history. My reality. My truth. It was real. I was not pretending. That has never been who I am. I may miss the mark in mind boggling fashion much of the time…but I am inherently sincere, even in my greatest delusion and confusion.

No amount of evidence, pictures, words of truth written or spoken seem to make any difference in what you’ve made up your mind to believe, and you’ve never believed I was happy with you or ever could be. Yet you always liked our pictures together, telling me how beautiful I am when I’m happy. Well, you giant idiot, who was I with in the pictures being my most beautiful?

We woke up this morning at 3 a.m. to the first day of our new life having shed every last remnant of the old. We’re each free, Babe; free to create and present our lives as we wish going forward. If you want to take some new pictures of us together to have for yourself, all you ever have to do is ask…and I’ll be happy to be beautiful next to you. I’m going to be my own happy and my own beautiful regardless, but I’ll always want to be that with you. Always.

The Last Pillar Has Fallen

Hello, my name is Jennifer and I’m a ridiculously fearful avoidant personality in love with an absurdly dismissive avoidant personality who loves me too. Together we are a textbook perfect psychological shit storm.

For me to finally understand exactly how fucked up we are and in what ways is, quite frankly, a massive relief. Every single pillar of certainty that I’d been led to believe was unassailable has toppled in recent years. Throughout this process, I’ve been clinging to what I considered to be the central pillar, convinced it was the one that would never, could never, should never fail. Then it too began to crack and pitch and I could no longer depend on it for safety and comfort.

And that’s the sickest/saddest part about the whole thing- it had never provided me the stability and protection I’ve always craved. No, this “central” pillar never stood still. It was perpetually restless and roaming, resistant to anything and everything that sought its support. Yet I’d been conditioned to believe that it must be that for me and had convinced myself that the reason it wasn’t was entirely my responsibility. If I threw every bit of myself into “supporting” this pillar, i.e. clutching ever tighter as it jumped and swayed precariously, feverishly patching cracks to keep up appearances (we’re good…we’re solid…we’re fine), it would eventually be still and strong and a source of stability and safety around which the rest of my life could nobly function.

It’s actually quite the comical visual. Everything else in my world had long ago disintegrated into rubble and ashes, yet here I was still insisting it was right and good to chain myself to the remaining wobbly and wild pillar that wasn’t even holding anything up and was aggressively trying to shake me off for my own good as it approached terminal collapse.

Up until 3 days ago, choking on spite in spite of what seemed like the never-going-to-end 9.0 temblor that had disintegrated everything I thought should be but never really was, this remained my unshakable belief –

If this one falls, I will die. If this one goes, I’m an ultimate failure. If this one crumbles, I’m the biggest shameful idiot there ever was.

I would not allow myself to let go until the shaking stopped. My God, my God…please MAKE IT STOP! I’m so exhausted and spent and empty…make it stop…make it stop…make it stop…

Then let go, you dear delusional girl. LET GO of the thing that is shaking so violently and let it crumble. You won’t die if you let go…but you surely will if you keep trying to hold it together. Let go, Love. Let go. Let everything die so that you can finally live. 

And I did…right there standing in front of the kitchen sink doing the dishes. I saw it. I understood fully and gave myself permission to do what up until that very second had been unthinkable – give up on my marriage, my idea of what this thing is supposed to be and let it collapse all the way.

The crushing, debilitating panic instantly vaporized. There was no crash, no boom, no implosion, only instant relief and supreme stillness. In that divine stillness such fullness, warmth, nurturing and belonging.

Oh heeeeeey, there They are, Whatever God There Is, or rather – there I AM. Then it began bubbling out of me. A wide, wild grin took over my face followed by unconstrained giggling before finally erupting into deep, somewhat maniacal laughter. I’d imagine it’s the same euphoria one would feel upon realizing they and their loved ones were alive and safe after a disaster, even if they’d lost everything else to it.

And that’s where I am. It’s all gone. All done. Everything, and I do mean everything, that was but actually wasn’t, is rubble. It’s sunrise and I’m getting my first look at the scene after the quake storm (as my oldest Big used to call it when she was little) and I’m happy. Giddy, in fact. I’m in no hurry to clean up or rebuild. I can’t even think about that right now or what it might look like. All I know is that I don’t need to know anything and the future doesn’t have to be any certain way. There is no should be or should have been. There are no supposed to be’s. 

Will a couple of middle-aged, highly avoidant personalities find a new way of being together now that everything has fallen apart? Yes…they will…in some capacity, but I no longer have any expectation for what that must look like nor sense of obligation that I should. Whether what is to be exceeds my wildest dreams of fulfillment or is something wholly undesirable that I never imagined for myself or my family (reality is certain to be somewhere on the spectrum in between)…I AM going to be OK.

There only IS what is, and right now is sacred and pure and I’m not about to rush through this gift of serenity and stillness in the aftermath of the Great Reduction. I’m going to rest here, just me and Whatever God There Is, who have always manifested Themself to me in reality, and find the comfort and security I crave with Them as I laugh/cry in unhinged relief as the encroaching light incrementally reveals all that is now after the shaking. I’m alive, goddammit. I’m alive…and for the first time in my life not lonely and afraid.

Oh, there I am. You lovely, demented girl. Take a beat and then let’s get to work building up YOU – the central pillar – strong and true. Who knows what beauty these hands are capable of creating with what IS now that they’ve finally released their death grip on what never was.