Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Blogging

April 26, 2017

thick roots revisited

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thick roots tangled knots
barely hanging onto bank
drink deep waters

This haiku was my third post to this blog, published on 3 January 2014. It still haunts me, though not in the same way.

I first saw these roots when D and I were walking with our daughter and her husband through Hoyt Arboretum in Portland, Oregon. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The tangled roots were beautiful and foreboding.

A bit like blogging, which I’ve experienced as a formidable venture into unknown territory. Like being born and surviving. Sometimes against all odds.

Writing lets my exposed roots show, often whether I realize they’re showing or not. Writing also stakes my claim to a tiny, precarious plot of land that sits open, vulnerable and visible to passersby.

I’ve traveled a long way since my early posts, yet my roots are still my roots. Bare, and barely hanging onto precious ground that’s stronger, deeper, and more nourishing than I could have imagined.

Deep waters aren’t visible, and they don’t untangle all the knots in my life. Sometimes I wonder whether they’re drying up.

Yet even in dire circumstances, I discover more than enough to get me through each day. Sometimes with tears of sorrow and disbelief. More often with joy and sheer gratitude for the privilege of being human. Able to thrive in the forest next to redwood giants, with miniscule ferns growing around and from my feet.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 April 2017
Photo credit: DAFraser, October 2012, Hoyt Arboretum, Portland, Oregon
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Roots

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April 8, 2017

The Shape of Healing

Describing the unspeakable
Welcoming the unbearable
Embracing the unimaginable

These phrases came to mind this morning when I saw the Daily Prompt. They capture what recovery looks like for me, an adult survivor of childhood trauma within my family.

No erasing the past, no magic pills, no overnight miracles, no shortcuts and no looking back. Sometimes I think I’m finally ready to be born. Or maybe it happened somewhere back there on the road to recovery, and I’m now an adolescent?

Today I’m working on the last piece of my series on The Shape of Forgiveness. I can scarcely believe I’ve lived to see this day. Much less write about it.

This week I’ve recalled seemingly random circumstances in the last 30 years of my life. I’m stunned by the way pieces came together. People, programs, books, articles, blog posts, conversations, life circumstances and more. They reinforced each other and kept me, inch by inch, moving in a direction, one trembling step of faith at a time.

Am I there yet? It doesn’t matter. Though the process is demanding, the payoff makes it all worthwhile. I’d rather write and rewrite my Grown Up Girl Rules than keep Daddy’s Good Girl Rules any day.

I think about you out there, on the other side of whatever I’ve posted. You’ve been my public audience at each step. The twists and turns of life will continue, as will my healing. Today I celebrate where I am right now. And you, my dear readers.

Have a lovely Sabbath!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 8 April 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Heal

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April 2, 2017

The Shape of Forgiveness | Part 1

My deceased father, an ordained clergyman, has been on my mind for the last several weeks. Especially the way his behavior toward me still affects my life.

I began blogging over three years ago because I was ready to break my silence. I wanted to tell the truth. Not just the truth about what happened to and within me back then, but the way it shaped the woman I’ve become.

If you haven’t read my earliest posts, I invite you read these, published over three years ago: Dear Dad and Rituals of Submission: Part 1 and Part 2.

Forgiveness has also been on my mind in the last few weeks. The topic almost always comes up when I describe my life as a child and young teenager.

My friends are concerned for me. It’s important, even necessary that I forgive my father. The sooner the better.

  • For some, this is the key to God forgiving me. Indeed, if I cannot forgive another human being, why should God forgive me?
  • For others, it’s important so I can ‘move on’ with my life. This means not getting stuck dwelling on this negative part of my life. Or at least not making it the leading theme of what is, after all, ‘my’ life. Even though it’s impossible for me to conceive of ‘my’ life without multiple connections with my father.
  • For friends who aren’t wired the way I am (an INFJ from way back and very happy, thank you!), forgiveness seems a reasonable exercise that would break the power of the past over me. By putting ‘his’ voice in one column, and ‘mine’ in another, I would simply clarify the truth and get on with my life. Almost like starting over with a blank slate. It sounds lovely; yet it isn’t true to reality as I experience it.

I appreciate each outlook. Yet I still get hooked by self-destructive attitudes and behaviors that arise daily.

  • My responses to these situations are rooted in my father’s attitudes and behaviors toward me.
  • Yet they seem to be my own beliefs and assumptions about myself.

Finally, I often wonder whether I can or need to forgive myself. If so, what would that look like?

As I see it, forgiveness isn’t a spiritual, intellectual, or strategic decision made once for all. It’s about my whole being and will take a lifetime. I face multiple opportunities each day to let go of my sometimes frantic desire for security and survival, affection and esteem, power and control, and my desire to change a situation.

A broken clay pot can’t be made whole by gluing it back together. No amount of glue will make it new. It’s still a damaged, cracked clay pot. The only way to repair the damage is to return the pot to the furnace, melt it down, and tenderly begin reshaping it. Not as an act of terror—though the process is terrifying—but as an act of love, acceptance and healing.

Time doesn’t heal all wounds. What might healing look like, and what kind of forgiveness would it take?

Thanks for reading, listening with your hearts, and commenting if you’d like.

To be continued….

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 April 2017
Image with quote found at wordsofbalance.com

23 Comments
March 20, 2017

Crazy Happy Lady

For several weeks I’ve been thinking about end of life issues, wondering what my daily ‘plan’ is for getting from here to there. How will I order my life each day? I don’t own the time my Creator has entrusted to me. So how will I invest it?

Whatever chaos is, it’s the way I’ve experienced most of my life. A chaos of competing priorities, demands, expectations (yours and mine), rules and regulations, political realities….

I’ve spent years trying to get through and beyond chaos. Yet here’s what happened this past weekend.

From my journal:

It’s 3:30pm, Saturday afternoon. I’m not exercising in the house, not cleaning up the kitchen, not vacuuming, not playing music, not reading a book, not writing a poem, not going through files and piles, or anything else except this—showing up and writing this journal entry.

How I feel right now: weary, unmotivated, discouraged, somber….terrible. Wasting time. Trying to practice centering prayer yet falling asleep. Watching time slip away.

Do I enjoy this? I don’t think so, but sometimes I wonder. Perhaps this is more enjoyable to me than changing my habits.

…My most lethal enemy seems to be lethargy. A kind of glue that keeps me from having an active agenda of things I love to do.

My mind goes through tricks like these:

  • If I read a novel, I’m wasting time. If I play the piano, I’m wasting time. Can’t I see how much work needs to be done in the kitchen, the house, the attic, my office?
  • If I walk in the house or ride on my recumbent bike or bounce on the rebounder, it isn’t ‘real’ exercise—so why bother?

There’s a crazy logic here—if I do this, I won’t be able to do that. (Or it won’t count anyway.)

And then there are all those other good things I’m not doing that haunt me—

  • Sending notes and cards to friends who need encouragement
  • Vacuuming the house
  • Cleaning the curtains and windows
  • Weeding out unneeded kitchen utensils
  • Taking things to the Salvation Army or some other charity

Like I said in my last entry, I don’t have a plan for organizing my life. It seems all I do is make sure my food needs are met, wash laundry when absolutely necessary, rest and sleep enough, and do other maintenance work that demands my attention.

Later that same day (Saturday evening now), I was back to my journal. Here’s what finally broke through the chaos and lethargy and made me crazy happy.

From my evening journal:

The best part of today: posting this morning and getting tomorrow’s post ready to go. I can’t begin to express how important blogging has become for my growth and enjoyment. I’d even put it on the same level as walking out of doors. Even ahead of playing the piano…and reading.

Which led to my Crazy Happy Lady List of Priorities – things that top my list of things I love to do just for myself.

  1. Writing – if not for my blog, in my journal
  2. Walking – outside if possible, with no agenda but enjoying nature
  3. Music – playing the piano or listening to music I love
  4. Reading – poetry, novels, books that help me navigate my life
  5. Meditating — wherever I am, day and night

As for other activities,

  • As little as possible
  • As efficiently as possible
  • On an as-needed basis

Thanks for listening, and Happy Spring!

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 20 March 2017
Elegant Photo of Woman Writer found at salon.com
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Label

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February 2, 2017

Intimidation

stormy_weather_by_stock_by_brink

heart races
breath shallow
torpor floods
my body
one behind
the other
heavy legs
drag feet
no need to write
nothing to say

lie down
sleep on it
burdened minds
need rest

fear waits
in the wings
if words
seek light
will fury fall
from starless
moonless sky
or might
some beacon
pierce my heart
plotting a way
back home

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 February 2017
Image found at Chicagonow.com

8 Comments
January 20, 2017

Exposed

Several days ago, just for fun, I posted a small poem and a photo. I loved finding the photo prompt, making a connection right away, and then putting together a small poem about what I saw. I felt happy about it.

After I published it, I went visiting other bloggers to see what they were writing about. As it happened, several posts I read were top-notch. Way beyond my own small post that was ‘just for fun.’

Bummer! It didn’t take long. The more I read other posts, the smaller I felt. Inadequate and virtually voiceless. I even thought about taking my post down.

That evening I wrote about all this in my journal. Here’s the paragraph that best describes how I felt.

  • Right now I feel hot and bothered, a bit chagrined, small, less than an average writer, even embarrassed, as though I wasted my time with this piece of writing. Even though it gave me joy to do it! I think I’m weighing myself against other writers. They seem to have more finesse, deeper ideas, more winsome ways in their writings, more responses to what they post, better ideas and even more fun in life even if I don’t want to live their lives.

I wrote on, trying to sort this out. Near the end, I started coming to terms with myself. Here’s a key paragraph.

  • I want to let my heart speak to other hearts. Yet right now I seem to want my heart to make them happy—so they’ll come back for another happiness pill? I don’t know. We do seem to be a culture driven by expectations of happiness—meaning that somewhere out there today I’ll find something to make my day—something to make me happy—something to help me feel alive and worthwhile.

I don’t pretend to be an accurate observer of our current culture. What I say may be wrong of most people ‘out there.’ It was not, however, wrong about me on that particular day. I was driven by my need to feel happy. I was looking for “something to help me feel alive and worthwhile.” Not in someone else’s writing, but in my own. Which I did–for a very short time.

Why did my initial joy vanish so quickly? Perhaps I lost my confidence? I don’t think so….

I am, however, sure of this.

  • My experience after posting my poem exposed something in me that I don’t like. I say it often enough: Comparison is the source of all discontent. I say it because I don’t want it to be true of me. Sometimes it isn’t. But on that day, it described me with painful precision.

Thanks for listening!
Elouise ♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 20 January 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt:  Exposure

15 Comments
December 8, 2016

My voice is my Treasure

All my life I’ve lived under a shadow of silence. I don’t even know what to call it. It was my hiding place. A gigantic dark place. A cloud of thunder and lightning. Winds whipping trees in the night. Holding my breath until I thought I would burst. Watching my back lest I be caught unawares.

I began this blog because I wanted to find my voice. Not my professional voice, but my personal voice. It peeked out from time to time, but quickly retreated when challenged or under threat. I loved my voice, but I didn’t yet treasure it. Nor did I see it as a treasure.

I’ve been blogging for nearly three years. At first Read the rest of this entry »

14 Comments
October 5, 2016

This Strange Journey

ripples-on-a-pond

Events I didn’t expect
No end in sight save each passing day
Restless nights invite anxious tears

Looking for something –
A sign that all will be or end well?
The reason I’m still here, not elsewhere?

My mind races Read the rest of this entry »

15 Comments
September 25, 2016

For the rest of my life….

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What will I do with the rest of my life?

Weeks ago my pastor preached a sermon on this. The topic was both amusing and serious. Amusing because there isn’t that much left of ‘the rest of my life.’ Read the rest of this entry »

18 Comments
August 11, 2016

Dear Friends,

Home away from for two magical weeks!

Our home away from home for two magical weeks! Docked in Amsterdam.

You’ve been on my mind for the last several weeks. Well, sort of! Here’s a quick update to let you know what’s been happening. Read the rest of this entry »

9 Comments