Not quite acculturated

N for Not quite, in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

Not quite acculturated

And she was unsympathetic
That doctor
That immigrant doctor
I heard she told a patient
“You’re too fat.”
This was whispered
In accents of pleased shocked horror

She came to dinner
That unsympathetic doctor
Southeast asian
Told a little of her story
To my wide eyed children

When she was 10
They were boat people
Escapees
Refugees
Pirates caught them
Real pirates
“They weren’t so bad,” she said
“We were about to die from lack
of food and water.
Though we heard other stories
that were very bad.”

My daughter could imagine the boat.
She moved to my lap.
The pirates were too real.

Perhaps plenty is not always taken
for granted
And sympathy is a matter of degree.

previously published on everything2.com

Move

M is for Move in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge

Move

Blessings on you

Take care of my heart

I know I’ve left it with someone kind

You don’t have to do anything with it

No giri

No obligation

You can set it anywhere

In a corner where it gets dusty

And covered with sawdust

Under the couch

In the woods

The kids can play catch with it

I don’t care

I am armored up

I am ready

I am ready to move

In the direction that I have chosen

Stand aside, please

I don’t want anyone to be hurt

Power up, armour, sheilds

I pick my sword back up

Obeisance to the Beloved

I move

38314-m

Adverse Childhood Experiences 5: Love your brain

L for Love your brain, in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

I have just been to another conference and met a woman neurologist. She is studying traumatic brain injury patients. She is applying for a grant to study adverse childhood experience scores in traumatic brain injury patients because they have noted that the people with fairly awful or very awful childhoods tend to cope better than the people with a nice childhood. She wants to do a formal study to see if this observation holds up.

Why would people who have had major trauma during childhood do better after a traumatic brain injury than those with a good childhood?

The suspicion is that their brains are wired differently. The high ACE score people have “crisis” wiring. They have brain wiring for survival in difficult circumstances. They have already used this wiring in childhood and have survived something or survived many things. When they have a catastrophic injury, the wiring kicks right in: ah, back to this, well, I can survive.

The brain is especially plastic as a child. We want to see all children treated well and loved and cared for, but it may be necessary as a species to have a survival back up. What if there is a disaster or a tsunami or a war? How do we adapt? Who survives? What becomes necessary that was unthinkable previously? Children are still growing up in the midst of wars and disasters and the crisis wiring is put in place to help them survive.

Children growing to adults in difficult circumstances work hard to survive and continue to work hard as adults. Dr. Clarke, from the OHSU primary care review, says that the personality characteristics of responsibility and hard work described in my last essay “produce a strong positive response from the world. Over time (sometimes a long time) this tends to overcome the poor self-esteem and eventually produces a major shift in how a person views him or herself. This major shift can be summarized as “I DESERVE BETTER.”

a. Often the individual will decide that they deserve a better partner or a better work environment.

b. Often they will no longer tolerate being treated disrespectfully.

c. Often there is the idea that the individual deserved better treatment when they were children.

d. The first relationship with a supportive, respectful partner may occur at this time. This, too, can be stressful because it is such a change from the past.

e. Resentment or anger about how the individual was treated as a child may be generated at this time though it may not be consciously acknowledged. It is common for the anger to be suppressed because it is an unpleasant emotion, because childhood stress survivors spent years learning how to control emotion and because the anger is often directed at people about who there is still some caring. When there is enough of this anger present it can cause physical symptoms that can be mild or severe or anywhere in between. Many people are unaware of how much anger they have. Highly educated people often have the most difficulty comprehending their level of anger.

f. Imagination techniques to uncover anger: pretending that you are watching a child you care about endure the same environment you did; pretend you are overhearing a conversation between a child you don’t know who suffers as you did and the child’s parent.

g. Often it is during this time of significant change in self-image that physical illness occurs.”*

My hope is that as we learn more about how the brain is wired in childhood and how versatile and adaptable it is, we will also gain understanding of the differences among adults. That we will grow in tolerance and in ability to support growth and healing, rather than judging and rejecting.

*Dr. Clarke has kindly given me permission to quote from his work. This is from his handout at the 46th Annual OHSU Primary Care Review.

Further reading, that I am looking forward to:
They can’t find anything wrong!, by David Clarke, MD. See also http://www.stressillness.com/

Kite

K for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

“Let’s go fly a kite, up to the highest height
Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring.”

Mary Poppins was a movie that scared me as a child and worried me a bit. We didn’t have a television until I was nine, and so movies were a bit overwhelming. Animated movies could be scary but were clearly not real. Oliver Twist was the first movie that I saw with real people and the scene where the villain is shot and his body swings back and forth on a rope gave me nightmares. Way too vivid.

Mary Poppins worried me in a number of scenes. I knew that the fierce women singing about “suffragettes” were important, but I did not know what a suffragette was. I was aware that there was some tension between men and women, but did not know why. I did not ask about it.

I also found the bank scene terrifying. The frightening old men, formally dressed and the very old man in the sterile bank setting, with him nearly slipping and falling on the floor. I did not trust any of them and hoped Micheal would not give them his money. I thought they were ganging up on Micheal. The topic of whether a bank can be trusted is timely over and over again: will our money be safe or are we being lied to and manipulated?

I found the scene up on the rooftops frightening but exhilarating. Here is light and air and birds and flight and a view of the world.

All of this sparked by the word kite….

Just, Justice, Juxtaposition

J in the Blogging from A to Z.

Just, Justice, Juxtaposition

It is funny

R says that I should not
associate with J
leave the wrong
impression
everyone watches
judges in a small town

I am committed
to J

J wants more
pushes

I can’t tell
if J thinks
I’m joking
or just
is pushing me
past my limits

I don’t know

but it is funny

because J and R
are alike
passionate
idealistic
madmen

ethical
committed

R does money
J does improv

yet alike

and R is the joker
and J is the taskmaster

and everyone
is not
what they seem

and my reputation
is shards
anyhow
in the surf
my X
told all
that I wasn’t
putting out

before
we were X

one
in the surf
was my office manager’s
daughter
and my office manager
asked me
next day
couldn’t
I control
the X

I laughed

someday
I want to bring
J to R
or
R to J
and watch

them
circle
like cats
antipathy
or recognize
the heart
that stands open

which is why
I love them both

previously published on everything2.com

Ink

I for Ink in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

I have three bottles of ink, by Windsor and Newton. Violet, Emerald and Silver. I have hardly used them, but I keep them. They are from my mother.

My mother was an artist and she also did crafts. She bought art supplies. When I was first married, my husband and I each bought a used gold chain. I started medical school and used the chain to put my rings on when I changed into scrubs for the operating room. Many people tied their rings to the scrub pants. At 2 am after a difficult surgery or delivery or cesarean section or premature baby or a trauma patient that did not survive: it’s easy to forget the rings. Lose them in the laundry. I hung my rings on the chain.

My sister told me that my mother complained about the chains. “Why would they spend money on something like that?” My sister replied, “What did you buy last weekend?” “Um,” said my mother, “Paper.” “Were you out of paper?” asked my sister, silkily. “No,” said my mother. She had enough paper for art for years, but she loved paper and art supplies and would buy good paper on sale. “De gustibus non est disputandumm.” said my sister. To each his or her own taste.

I have little caches of art supplies that my mother sent me. Beautiful ink. Beautiful paper. When I paint a watercolor postcard, it is in her style. She sculpted with clay, became a potter, did silk screens, etchings, watercolors, oils, pastels. She did crafts: glass beads. My sister did a glass bead class with her. They reported giggling that they had both made glass beads, quite hideously ugly. My mother bought the glass bead equipment. Woodcuts. Paper mache. She sewed costumes when we younger, though she didn’t like sewing very much. We both had japanese kimonos when we were little for Halloween. This stood out as too weird among our social group.

I have nibs somewhere, to dip in the inks. I have a fountain pen with an italics point. I have paper.

I look at the beautiful inks and remember my mother and my sister.

Hurt and healing

H is for healing and hurt in the Blogging from A to Z. I mentioned dreaming of monsters in my Gift post, and this is the poem about that dream. It is hard work to heal.

Advice to Micheal

Neverland
Is such an ironic name
Can’t they hear?
Can’t they think?
The land where boys never grew up
The Lost Boys

And you
Are not molesting
Boys
You are
Searching
When I heard
About your childhood
I knew
They were wrong
They’ve missed the boat

You sang
Like an angel
And the world
Stole your childhood

Hotel rooms
With older brothers
Sex
Drugs
Alcohol
Money
Chaos
And you must have been
So frightened
Lost
Pressure to sing
As the star

Locked your core self away
To keep it safe

My childhood
Was scary too

I started my search
With a dream
Of a dark hole
From which came the sound
Of monsters
Howling

I was scared

I went to the hole
anyway
scared
of the howling

The hole was dark
And roots stuck out of the side
Like reaching fingers

I got a flashlight
And looked

It wasn’t as deep
As I thought
And the roots worked as
A ladder

I climbed down
Into the hole

I found three monsters
Howling

Baby monsters

I put them in my pack
And carried them up
Into the light

They howled

I bathed them
And diapered them
And fed them
And rocked them

They howled
They didn’t know what to do
When taken care of

I named them
Fear
Grief
Shame

At last they stopped howling
And sat
Warm
Wrapped in blankets
Ugly
Sullen
Lower lips thrust out

And I found a shrink
To talk about my dream
And to help heal the monsters
That I had rescued

We always have more
Work to do
But now I have a little girl
Inside me
Who came to greet me
When I had healed the monsters
Enough
She is beautiful

You won’t find
The Lost Boy
That you are looking for
Outside you
He is inside
He is innocent
And beautiful

You may have to face
The monsters
Of your childhood
To reach him
Yours was worse than mine
I’m sorry

You may have to face
How much people you loved
Hurt you
Even though they loved you
I’m sorry

Find help
And rescue
The Lost Boy
And joy

Good luck.

Poem written August 10, 2005. Previously published on everything2.com.

Gift

G in the Blogging from A to Z, for gift.

Dreams are a gift. Dreams may be the unconscious speaking and attempting to bring something to consciousness. We may have a collective unconscious.

I am no expert in analyzing dreams. My minister says that we should stand in relation to dreams. That we should hold them in our consciousness and think about them. Some of the information about interpreting dreams I learned from him and from his mentor, Robert Johnson PhD.

There are four people in my fly dream. This is a good thing. Four is a number of completion, of arrival, of numinous knowledge.

The people all represent aspects of myself. My daughter/cat represents an aspect of myself. I told a friend the story of “The cat who walks by himself”, because he doesn’t read fiction. Or says he doesn’t. I have a hard time imagining not reading fiction, just as I never quite believe people who say they don’t like poetry. I think they are afraid of it.

The two males I am taking as aspects of my animus. My male energy. My male energy is healthy, which is very different from a dream that I had ten years ago. In that dream one male was a crazy cardiac surgeon who was doing a heart transplant in the middle of a garden party. The other male was the patient, whose heart was broken and needed to be replaced. In the fly dream, both males are healthy and bright. The adult male still has the capacity to not be grounded and to be disconnected from the ground, but he is willing to set the house down and explore locally, once he’s done showing off his power.

The children in my dreams were initially monsters. Baby monsters. Then my dreams had a baby girl and then a girl child. A recent dream had a two year old male, healthy. This dream is my first with a healthy teen male.

I think that this is a reassuring progression.

And still, I hold the dream present, a snapshot of my interior psyche. It may have more to tell me.

Fly dream

F in the A to Z Challenge: Fly.

I returned to work yesterday after ten months off very sick and then convalescing. In the afternoon I came home. I ate a late lunch and fell into a deep sleep. Relief that I am back at work.

I dream: I am in a metallic boxy house. It is very modern, glass and metal. It is very spare, elegant and uncluttered. My daughter and cat are there but are one being. She keeps shape shifting from cat to daughter and back. There is a man and a teen, his son. He owns the house and built it. It is up high perched on a tower. It feels very precarious and the tower moves with the wind. The views are stunning, wilderness and mountains. The house falls and the man shows me that it is a spaceship. It hovers over the earth. He and his son are aliens. I am a bit annoyed that he deliberately scared me, but I also know that he is showing off. He is showing me his strength and power and maleness. I do find it very sexy. I want him.

I tell him that he can set the ship down in a safe place. I am suitably impressed and admiring. He does not need a spaceship or to scare me or to fly to be loved. He intimates that we can fly to explore other planets. I say “I am happy to explore this one for a while. It is ok to be grounded.” He sets the house spaceship down in the mountains.

I wake up.

Love in Ten Sentences

Janebasilblog nominated me for this challenge and I finally have done it. Now to tag ten MORE people…..

Details of the challenge: Write a 10 line poem with four words to each line, and each line must contain the word β€˜love’. Nominate 10 people to carry on the challenge.

love complicates my life
love and don’t like
behavior not deserving love
love pours forth anyhow
love feels deep hurt
love withdraws lick wounds
love heals ventures forth
less contact mean loves
behavior change brings love
complicated joy : love anyhow

I still need to nominate ten people to carry on and write the NEXT love in ten sentences. I will add that…