Yuni ... Words, broomsticks, shaming, gaslighting. But why? What drives someone to reach out for any of those things?
On two occasions, I turned away and left the room. Once when we had a teacher who was literally banned from caning anyone, ever again, and once when I met my mother-in-law, who just got worse and worse (or 'better') at shaming, and lashing out. Neither of them created any space for anything but violence - the particular weapon they used became irrelevant.
I left the teacher and his course, and I supported my partner when she (over many years) decided to 'walk away', permanently, from her (badly disturbed) mother. I lost a course, OK. My partner lost her mother, not OK. That never changed. In the process her father withdrew into himself, even further, although he seemed to find love elsewhere, but could never share that. My partner became an 'orphan' - of sorts - and learnt to live like that, and flourish. Sounds like you might have had to, too. I have no words for this ...
Absolutely beautiful. I used to do two 10-day silent retreats a year before I had kids. Haven’t done one since but I remember the resistance on the front end, and then the desire to stay silent on the back end. Re-entry was always interesting. Welcome back to you, too. Your well is full 💙
I went twice a year, even when my son was little, starting around 18 months. I carried terrible guilt about that at the time. Worried I was hurting him, But he turned out all right, secure attacahments and all. His father normalized it so much, and did such a good job of nurturing and providing love and security. I had to go. I was saving my own life. He knew it. The trauma would have swallowed me otherwise, I think.
Oh I think it’s fantastic you went, Susan. I would have, too, there were some other contributing factors that kind of took that option off the table, but I just did my daily practice and still do, and some crazy way nineteen years have gone by 😳
I'm thinking about the twice-a-year format and wondering if it was the same program of retreats. Something to talk about when we meet. ...and I want to know o o, Where does the time go?
Thank you right back for all your support, from my very first day on Substack. I appreciate you so much. I applaud your courage, strenght and fierce love.
Thanks for starting to write it all out ... Take it slowly, relish it.
I had some related experience. Being locked up, at night, in complete darkness, complete quietness, but with 30 other 'political prisoners' - for what seemed like forever, but was probably only half an hour. I think we all thought we would 'crack' but no-one did. We all, eventually, settled down into it. And we talked, calmly, through it. On my own, I am not so sure ... Complete sensory (and human) deprivation, I don't know ... Salute! Welcome back, indeed. (I have only got as far as willingly giving up all control. Which is easy now ... I've found that switch. And it works for painting too. I just let my brain follow my hand, instead of the other way round. "Hello, darkness my old friend". Not there yet.)
Perfect. I had no idea you were a political prisoner. I’ll have to dive back into Sometimes, now that I’m home. Everyone I talk to is afraid they will “crack.” But you know, that crack is what lets in the light. More on that later. I went into the dark therapeutically, a session before, visits through the door twice a day, a session after. I was well supported with a comfortable bed and a deep bath tub - the luxury suite of darkness, pampered Westerner that I am.
Take it ... easy. I have written a new P.S. (or three) to Sometimes. Laters. Absorb and cherish this, first. There's positives in 'Sometimes' too. I'll add some more, another time, and let you have it, in a while. Not now.
Stay with it. It's your space, and time (find them cracks .......... etc.
For the young girls who want to be trad wives, thinking that way they will be loved — I am scared for them. My mother and so many traditional housewives in Asian countries lived that life until recently, and they are the ones who told us: "Do not ever live like me. Do not give control of yourself to your husband."
We grew up watching our fathers beat our mothers in the name of house order, discipline, never in the name of love, while they would ask, "Why do you make me do this?" (Susan, it's funny: violent men say the same thing. Manipulative people, selfish people all ask this same question — in English, in Korean, in Chinese, and in so many other languages.)
I see my mother in your mother, cowering and expecting a blow. And I can predict so many young, pretty girls cowering in the same way — when all they ever wanted was to be loved.
Yes, Yuni, so terrible... horrible, and that's just the effect upon the wives, but there are children in this system, too, who are hurt immeasurably, and that is where this culture hits its bedrock. Something like 85% of mass shooters come from households of domestic violence, in a crime that is woefully underreported because of shame. The harm just rippled out and out and out. Time to see it for what it is, and how it is killing everyone. Thank you for this response. I feel you. My heart is with you. It doesn't have to be like this.
When I first moved to America, I was amazed — even a little jealous — that they had Child Protective Services, Social Services, women's shelters. But now I see that bureaucracy can only do so much. It should be more about children, and the parents' effect on them, and the ultimate effect of that on society. I kind of guessed that all the troubled perpetrators we hear about on the news had some kind of origin story in their homes — and now you've confirmed it. This is where your story and mine should work, so they can see the result of what happens when young girls are naive, and society looks away.
Yuni, my partner went through the same thing. Except it was her mother who beat her. Then she grew up, physically, and beat her mother back. The bond was broken, never to recover. Her mother never touched her again, literally. (I'm doubly in mourning, for both of them; still angry about it, and there's more ...).
That is so sad. My mother kept beating me until I was a 6th grader, when I grabbed her big broom mid-air. But it didn't stop everything. She just resorted to words instead: hurtful, piercing words. I am so sorry for your partner.
So terrible. It doesn't matter who is doing it. Mothers who never resort to physical blows still beat their daughters sometimes with words and shaming. It done for so many reasons - because it was done to them, because they are afraid their children will not fit, that they won't be able to marry well, or understand their place. The whole thing is a nightmare it's time to wake from.
Mothers can copy what's done to them, as violence tends to flow downstream — husbands to wives to children.
Mothers who use words and shaming may have good intentions, but it never works. It only leaves a scar, a wound, a void. Then those daughters go out and try to fill it with the wrong kind of man. So the cycle goes on.
Hi Susan! You are so lucky to live in Cali and can do cool stuff like a darkness cave and, in other cases, psychedelics! What a fabulous description of your letting-go to darkness! I'm still here in FL (with an un-sellable house apparently). But we're still looking for work elsewhere. There are some men here that I just can't deal with --- misogyny just oozing off them (and the worst part is many don't have a clue they suffer from it). It's also insane what's going on with the Christian Nationalist women! (I do write some stories, though, in which the women are misogynists and self-loathing, and I hope I won't get clobbered for that!)
Well, I hope you write them, clobbered or not. I’ll up lift them if you do. Of course women take it in. How could we not? It’s everywhere. While I agree that I’m lucky to live in Cali, because I love it here, I flew to Oregon to go on this retreat. The things a girl will do sometimes… I’m sorry to hear you are still stuck. Can you rent the house and go? Sometimes sanity is the more important thing. Good luck finding the perfect situation, workwise and homewise. I know what you mean about the men with misogyny just oozing off them, and SUFFER from it is the perfect characterization. They are suffering hard and super-spreading the dis-ease. So brittle. Best to get your body out of there, as soon as you can.
Wowee. So many lines to quote here. "But real surrender isn’t submission. It’s stillness." Until I could embrace contrast, before I could let self-loathing go, I couldn't create. I was afraid to let go of control. But control was making me sick, miserable, so depressed I wanted death as an end to my suffering. But that kind of death, is submission, not surrender. Until I was willing to "die," the dying being a willingness to let go of that stuck self that truly needed to die, I couldn't embrace the beauty of living. The surrender, the being still, got me to see that no one can steal my joy. Fear, get behind me. The death of that part of me set me free to truly be me.
So far, it's going pretty well. We need darkness to balance the light. Being able to hold contrast is the most beautiful gift.
I have a question. You wrote "soon come." is that a Liam-ism? It sounds like something a very young child would say. Love you, SK. xo
“Soon come” is a term I picked up in Jamaica. It’s the perfect blend of surrender to everything we can’t control and joy in the meantime while we wait. I just loved it.
I love it too. Do you think it's something a child would say, and mix up the syntax? The Jamaican attitude seems childlike in the best possible way. Full of surrender AND JOY! xo
I don’t know. All the adults say it, and when they do, it’s filled with deep adutl understanding. Joy is so often child-like, and that Jamaican attitude is so filled with joy. It shines from faces. But, I also think it’s born of reality, of suffering, of being colonized, and the long patience that creates. It’s a testament to the unbowing that joy is, too, even in the face of terrible injustice. They know that, too, and it’s in there.
YES! You said it so much better. Of course of reality, suffering. You've said what I was trying to say in a hurry, so much better. Thank you. I don't like making general statements about people or groups of people. You handled my comment and idea with so much grace. Thanks for that. xo
In the stillness of the dark we know ourselves. I've been deep in the stillness, but perhaps there's something to be noted about the dark. Thank you for your beautiful insights.
This is such a provocative comment. I love it. In my experience, stillness is stillness, no matter where I’ve found it. And because of silence, I can find it in almost any situation, now. Every morning with my tea, and then it lasts, usually all day. My biggest breakthroughs came on silent retreats. I think the dark was important for me because my core fear is helplessness. The dark sure aquaints one with helplessness. Patience. Trust. And for me, big gratitude. Thank you right back.
Oh, Tom. I love you so much. You know better than anyone how loud the call to go on all these retreats, and though it was terribly inconvienient for you, we did it anyway. I saw “we” because I know that every time I went on retreat over the last 30 years of our marriage, you were on retreat, too. Unavoidable. Your love and support over the decades was shining in the dark, too. Vocanic gratifude - for you.
Yuni ... Words, broomsticks, shaming, gaslighting. But why? What drives someone to reach out for any of those things?
On two occasions, I turned away and left the room. Once when we had a teacher who was literally banned from caning anyone, ever again, and once when I met my mother-in-law, who just got worse and worse (or 'better') at shaming, and lashing out. Neither of them created any space for anything but violence - the particular weapon they used became irrelevant.
I left the teacher and his course, and I supported my partner when she (over many years) decided to 'walk away', permanently, from her (badly disturbed) mother. I lost a course, OK. My partner lost her mother, not OK. That never changed. In the process her father withdrew into himself, even further, although he seemed to find love elsewhere, but could never share that. My partner became an 'orphan' - of sorts - and learnt to live like that, and flourish. Sounds like you might have had to, too. I have no words for this ...
Oh, the power of your words to open worlds of wonder!!
Elizabeth! Your words got all the way in. Thank you. "Worlds of wonder..." I'll take that and feel it all. Thank you.
🙏🌹
"Misogyny is projected self-loathing."
Accord. Thank you for saying it, straight up, no chasers.
Thanks Roy. I’ve often been accused of being too direct… Was worried about that here.
Not at all. Superbly balanced piece of writing. Thank you. We live in strange times.
Only love matters x
That’s right. Personally, politically, legislatively… and in every other way. Only love matters.
Absolutely beautiful. I used to do two 10-day silent retreats a year before I had kids. Haven’t done one since but I remember the resistance on the front end, and then the desire to stay silent on the back end. Re-entry was always interesting. Welcome back to you, too. Your well is full 💙
I went twice a year, even when my son was little, starting around 18 months. I carried terrible guilt about that at the time. Worried I was hurting him, But he turned out all right, secure attacahments and all. His father normalized it so much, and did such a good job of nurturing and providing love and security. I had to go. I was saving my own life. He knew it. The trauma would have swallowed me otherwise, I think.
Oh I think it’s fantastic you went, Susan. I would have, too, there were some other contributing factors that kind of took that option off the table, but I just did my daily practice and still do, and some crazy way nineteen years have gone by 😳
I'm thinking about the twice-a-year format and wondering if it was the same program of retreats. Something to talk about when we meet. ...and I want to know o o, Where does the time go?
Truly, where?! I can’t wait to meet you. Messaging away ❤️
You knocked us right back to the womb of creation with a huge love bomb.
Every line every word is medicine.
Awww thank you, well done sister!
Thank you right back for all your support, from my very first day on Substack. I appreciate you so much. I applaud your courage, strenght and fierce love.
💥☀️❤️🔥
Thanks for starting to write it all out ... Take it slowly, relish it.
I had some related experience. Being locked up, at night, in complete darkness, complete quietness, but with 30 other 'political prisoners' - for what seemed like forever, but was probably only half an hour. I think we all thought we would 'crack' but no-one did. We all, eventually, settled down into it. And we talked, calmly, through it. On my own, I am not so sure ... Complete sensory (and human) deprivation, I don't know ... Salute! Welcome back, indeed. (I have only got as far as willingly giving up all control. Which is easy now ... I've found that switch. And it works for painting too. I just let my brain follow my hand, instead of the other way round. "Hello, darkness my old friend". Not there yet.)
Perfect. I had no idea you were a political prisoner. I’ll have to dive back into Sometimes, now that I’m home. Everyone I talk to is afraid they will “crack.” But you know, that crack is what lets in the light. More on that later. I went into the dark therapeutically, a session before, visits through the door twice a day, a session after. I was well supported with a comfortable bed and a deep bath tub - the luxury suite of darkness, pampered Westerner that I am.
Take it ... easy. I have written a new P.S. (or three) to Sometimes. Laters. Absorb and cherish this, first. There's positives in 'Sometimes' too. I'll add some more, another time, and let you have it, in a while. Not now.
Stay with it. It's your space, and time (find them cracks .......... etc.
For the young girls who want to be trad wives, thinking that way they will be loved — I am scared for them. My mother and so many traditional housewives in Asian countries lived that life until recently, and they are the ones who told us: "Do not ever live like me. Do not give control of yourself to your husband."
We grew up watching our fathers beat our mothers in the name of house order, discipline, never in the name of love, while they would ask, "Why do you make me do this?" (Susan, it's funny: violent men say the same thing. Manipulative people, selfish people all ask this same question — in English, in Korean, in Chinese, and in so many other languages.)
I see my mother in your mother, cowering and expecting a blow. And I can predict so many young, pretty girls cowering in the same way — when all they ever wanted was to be loved.
Yes, Yuni, so terrible... horrible, and that's just the effect upon the wives, but there are children in this system, too, who are hurt immeasurably, and that is where this culture hits its bedrock. Something like 85% of mass shooters come from households of domestic violence, in a crime that is woefully underreported because of shame. The harm just rippled out and out and out. Time to see it for what it is, and how it is killing everyone. Thank you for this response. I feel you. My heart is with you. It doesn't have to be like this.
When I first moved to America, I was amazed — even a little jealous — that they had Child Protective Services, Social Services, women's shelters. But now I see that bureaucracy can only do so much. It should be more about children, and the parents' effect on them, and the ultimate effect of that on society. I kind of guessed that all the troubled perpetrators we hear about on the news had some kind of origin story in their homes — and now you've confirmed it. This is where your story and mine should work, so they can see the result of what happens when young girls are naive, and society looks away.
Yuni, my partner went through the same thing. Except it was her mother who beat her. Then she grew up, physically, and beat her mother back. The bond was broken, never to recover. Her mother never touched her again, literally. (I'm doubly in mourning, for both of them; still angry about it, and there's more ...).
That is so sad. My mother kept beating me until I was a 6th grader, when I grabbed her big broom mid-air. But it didn't stop everything. She just resorted to words instead: hurtful, piercing words. I am so sorry for your partner.
It’s all so sad. I’m sorry for your loss you, your mother and all of us.
So terrible. It doesn't matter who is doing it. Mothers who never resort to physical blows still beat their daughters sometimes with words and shaming. It done for so many reasons - because it was done to them, because they are afraid their children will not fit, that they won't be able to marry well, or understand their place. The whole thing is a nightmare it's time to wake from.
It’s just such a waste. Generations of unnecessary suffering. So much that was never created or invented. The loss is incalculable.
Mothers can copy what's done to them, as violence tends to flow downstream — husbands to wives to children.
Mothers who use words and shaming may have good intentions, but it never works. It only leaves a scar, a wound, a void. Then those daughters go out and try to fill it with the wrong kind of man. So the cycle goes on.
Many people walk around with scars. Few of them are even able to acknowledge the shame to themselves. It is 'such a waste.'
Welcome back.
Thank you Patti. It was marvelous. I’m writing a post about it next time. It’s a lot to integrate.
Another beautiful insightful article.
Ahhhhh, thank you, Alyce. That got all the way in.
Hi Susan! You are so lucky to live in Cali and can do cool stuff like a darkness cave and, in other cases, psychedelics! What a fabulous description of your letting-go to darkness! I'm still here in FL (with an un-sellable house apparently). But we're still looking for work elsewhere. There are some men here that I just can't deal with --- misogyny just oozing off them (and the worst part is many don't have a clue they suffer from it). It's also insane what's going on with the Christian Nationalist women! (I do write some stories, though, in which the women are misogynists and self-loathing, and I hope I won't get clobbered for that!)
Well, I hope you write them, clobbered or not. I’ll up lift them if you do. Of course women take it in. How could we not? It’s everywhere. While I agree that I’m lucky to live in Cali, because I love it here, I flew to Oregon to go on this retreat. The things a girl will do sometimes… I’m sorry to hear you are still stuck. Can you rent the house and go? Sometimes sanity is the more important thing. Good luck finding the perfect situation, workwise and homewise. I know what you mean about the men with misogyny just oozing off them, and SUFFER from it is the perfect characterization. They are suffering hard and super-spreading the dis-ease. So brittle. Best to get your body out of there, as soon as you can.
Wowee. So many lines to quote here. "But real surrender isn’t submission. It’s stillness." Until I could embrace contrast, before I could let self-loathing go, I couldn't create. I was afraid to let go of control. But control was making me sick, miserable, so depressed I wanted death as an end to my suffering. But that kind of death, is submission, not surrender. Until I was willing to "die," the dying being a willingness to let go of that stuck self that truly needed to die, I couldn't embrace the beauty of living. The surrender, the being still, got me to see that no one can steal my joy. Fear, get behind me. The death of that part of me set me free to truly be me.
So far, it's going pretty well. We need darkness to balance the light. Being able to hold contrast is the most beautiful gift.
I have a question. You wrote "soon come." is that a Liam-ism? It sounds like something a very young child would say. Love you, SK. xo
“Soon come” is a term I picked up in Jamaica. It’s the perfect blend of surrender to everything we can’t control and joy in the meantime while we wait. I just loved it.
I love it too. Do you think it's something a child would say, and mix up the syntax? The Jamaican attitude seems childlike in the best possible way. Full of surrender AND JOY! xo
I don’t know. All the adults say it, and when they do, it’s filled with deep adutl understanding. Joy is so often child-like, and that Jamaican attitude is so filled with joy. It shines from faces. But, I also think it’s born of reality, of suffering, of being colonized, and the long patience that creates. It’s a testament to the unbowing that joy is, too, even in the face of terrible injustice. They know that, too, and it’s in there.
YES! You said it so much better. Of course of reality, suffering. You've said what I was trying to say in a hurry, so much better. Thank you. I don't like making general statements about people or groups of people. You handled my comment and idea with so much grace. Thanks for that. xo
I knew what you meant.
I was pretty sure you did, but I felt like I was skirting the edge of being terribly misunderstood by others. xo
Response:
I picked up a cup of joy
tried to drink from it.
that didn’t work.
Just sit with it
breathe it in
slowly
carefully ...
I love this so much. Gorgeous poetry. That’s the right approach too. Slowly. Carefully. There’s no rush, no need to shock the system. It’s all good.
"no one can steal my joy"
enough said. thank you.
It’s not takable. hahahah.
In the stillness of the dark we know ourselves. I've been deep in the stillness, but perhaps there's something to be noted about the dark. Thank you for your beautiful insights.
For me it feels like there are depths of awareness in the stillness.
That’s it. That’s where all the good stuff is hiding in plain sight.
This is such a provocative comment. I love it. In my experience, stillness is stillness, no matter where I’ve found it. And because of silence, I can find it in almost any situation, now. Every morning with my tea, and then it lasts, usually all day. My biggest breakthroughs came on silent retreats. I think the dark was important for me because my core fear is helplessness. The dark sure aquaints one with helplessness. Patience. Trust. And for me, big gratitude. Thank you right back.
Susan, more brilliance shining in the darkness! Tom
Oh, Tom. I love you so much. You know better than anyone how loud the call to go on all these retreats, and though it was terribly inconvienient for you, we did it anyway. I saw “we” because I know that every time I went on retreat over the last 30 years of our marriage, you were on retreat, too. Unavoidable. Your love and support over the decades was shining in the dark, too. Vocanic gratifude - for you.