Thursday, November 30, 2017

pseudoman



You’re the queen of the shortcut, running as you have and are, from the place that scorched your connection to this earth, separated you from your mother, and set you on a path to becoming a very effective machine. You were never allowed to truly be a child, you were instead treated to forms of childish entertainment, given a pacifier in place of your power. Disconnected from your Mother and ownership of your Being, you became hardened and harsh; your truths lost the capacity for warmth, they simply spurred you on to further stoic seasoning.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Let It All Come, Let It All Go



This has certainly not been a favorite week in my life, but it may well be one of the most cathartic and healing.  

I went briefly out of town, and came home to a great sense of unease. I am now aware of the fact that an ex-‘partner’ of mine used my blog as a platform to assassinate my character, which has been an ongoing thing since I broke off our relationship. This is the second attempt by this person, of which I am aware, to undermine my professional reputation and my ability to earn a living, for the record.

I made a goal of working on my naivety, and boy, has the universe delivered. I have recently changed the comment settings on my blog to alert me when someone posts, sure could have used that eight days ago. By the time I registered that a comment had been made, its author had taken it down. I have yet to read it, and part of me is truly grateful for that. I have certainly known I have been under attack, but I was unaware of the specific charges levied against me. Hence, my silence. Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is to sit or stand in your own integrity, and wait.

I am now aware of a few of the things with which I have been charged, although I have yet to have a straightforward conversation about what was written with anyone.

Let me begin by stating that I unequivocally deny the existence of any physical violence in my former relationship. While I will own bouts of explosive anger, I will also own that I found ways to direct my anger away from people. I am proud of the way I loved; this does not belong to me.

I ended our relationship a little over two years ago, and yes, I have been trying to date. Dating has been complicated by two major factors: the general youth of the single population where I live, and the fact that I am, for the first time in thirty plus years, not sublimated about my childhood sexual trauma. I have never had sex, being fully aware of what happened to me; I haven’t been able to, even though I have wanted to and have made some clumsy attempts to make that happen. There is nothing like sexual trauma to creep yourself out, and my story is complicated by the fact that I was also condemned publicly as a rapist, and it was true, inasmuch as a raped, uncounseled child can be a rapist to another child. What I do know is my behavior was damaging, regardless of any other factor, and that I have damaged real people, and I cannot ever be sorry enough for the harm I have caused them.  

I have been carrying the weight of this word around in my belly, internalizing it, believing it while remaining unaware of the particulars of what I did. That leaves me at a distinct disadvantage in the arena of defending myself, so I often just feel creepy about myself. There have been several times during the last two years of meeting people, where I have just been flooded by these feelings, and then kind of emitted them to whomever I was with. For the same reasons I am writing my defense without ever seeing my charges, I can often feel what people around me are feeling; sometimes, they are feeling me feeling creepy and then being awkward, which creeps them out in actuality, and I don’t blame them. But that doesn’t make me a creeper.

I have been putting myself out here publicly, calling for change on a topic of which I am a part, and not always, historically, in a positive way. I have been waiting for the possibility that someone from my past may find me and confront me, but what has just happened, is not that; what has just happened is an attack on my character fueled by an ex-‘partner’ who refuses to accept my ‘no’ and move on.

To all of the friends who have stood with me through this, I give all the thanks and love in the world. To all of the people with whom I have the privilege of working, I remain myself and am available, should you need to ask me anything about these allegations.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

my new voice

*this was my first ever post, but at some point I decided it was too naive? hopeful? grandiose?, and took it down. Today, however, I am casting it back out into the collective.*
I do not know who took the aurora photo, if it is not in the public domain, I am not intending to steal.
                                                        


4/29/2009
so this is an epochal moment for me. tonight i’m posting my first serious blog, using my new voice, if you will…..to say whatever it is that moves me to speak. and to give it credence, which is somewhat of an art form, and hard won. it is one thing to be moved by the truth one encounters, and another to expect your fellow beings to see and recognize the same truth, or one even remotely like it. what makes something true? is it a many years old manuscript? the popular vote? scientific proof? a mathematical expression of the dance of the universe? a dogmatic invocation of great truths made small? or maybe a still, small voice that resonates in your heart, reverberates through your ribcage and lets you know UNEQUIVOCALLY that your will is in harmony with something bigger than you, that wants nothing more fervently than the good of all. it’s hard to take the opinion of the last, in the face of the hard evidence of things like societal norms, political mechanisms, economic algorithms, and even genuine expression of art. what could possibly be left to say that could remotely matter? except i can’t quit thinking about it….or believing i have something to contribute to the conversation. . i have been fascinated and viscerally moved by the northern lights since i ran into them in earth science, circa 1982 (?). and you know what? no matter how many posted pics there are online, and they number in the billions, there’s not a ONE that’s not spectacular in some fashion. it can’t NOT be, it’s the nature of the phenomenon. the individual expression is as nuanced as the person observing and framing the shot. so…tonight i pitch my voice into the great wide open….maybe even in amongst those crazy, natural works that lick the sky alight in colored flames. i believe we ALL matter. i believe our voices ALL exist for a particular expression, despite what we may have ALL been taught, told or expected to believe. i don’t expect ALL to get it, but i’m puttin’ it out here because i can’t not, because i want to contribute to a new, better world than the one we currently have created together, and because i dream of a place where TRUE democracy (i.e. everyone has a voice that literally counts) thrives and is not enforced by either the instruments of brute force, societal ‘norms’, theocratic sophisms, or conventional expectations. so…….welcome to bloodlesscoupblog….a place where thinking big, coloring outside the lines, and speaking your particular truths can perhaps overthrow an oppressive thought regime (or several), and yet, shed no further blood, cuz it’s been enough already.
welcome….your voice is invited, your perspective needed. visit and comment often!
aurora borealis

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Game



Born into a system of subjugation
Some of us became lethal players of the game
And they worshipped our untouchableness
With groans and more desire
Some of us opted out
Evolving and becoming something other
Something not on the menu, we hoped
Others of us went underground in our own minds
And we are barely even here, even when you are inside us
Our grandmothers terrified us with their traumas
Hoping that fear would keep us safe
They had accepted that this was how it was
Their minds fit for survival, not this revolution
But we are their daughters’ daughters
And we say it is time for a new game
This is one we will no longer play