Marriage

Inquisitors

Pastor Bill left this comment on my last post:

I am curious how does it happen that a person adopts the mindset of an inquisitor? My study of history shows me they are always a strong believer in one idea, which needs to be defended against other ideas the basis of this defense I would say is fear. Because the Human Soul is the birthplace of ideas then it goes without saying, destroy the person any way you can and destroy the idea. In a Google World this is a ridiculous idea in and of itself but yet it still holds sway. It appears the two institutions yet to embrace this Google Reality is the Political and Religious Classes their vested interest in the status quo is obvious. Attacking the Other person’s ideas will soon become seen for the foolishness it is, because these two institutions are no longer seen as possessing the solutions to life. The truth is the solutions we seek are to be found in the sharing and blending of “so called” opposing ideas and there is no room in a Google World for the inquisitor’s mindset anymore.

I’m guessing that current events inspired this question; there was an incident recently here in Anza involving a rather outspoken Christian woman, a teenage Wiccan girl, various other recipients of the woman’s particular brand of Christian love, a subsequent protest, and the resulting social uproar. A largish portion of the Anza community is now polarizing to one side or the other of this conflict.

It’s a big long story that I don’t really want to get into on this blog, because in the interest of fairness and responsible journalism I would have to relate all the tiresome details of both sides of the issue. Meh. For this post, the relevant information is that Pastor Bill feels that the Wiccan girl has as much right as anyone else to wear jewelry bearing symbols of her religion while participating in a federal, non-church-related food commodities program, and for that he’s been heavily criticized by certain members of the church community who have LOTS and LOTS of bible verses supporting the righteousness of their condemnation.

You can almost hear Jesus weeping.

The question of how “Love thy neighbor as thyself” turned into “destroy everyone who doesn’t think exactly the way you do because that’s what Jesus wants” is a complex and baffling subject. There are so many intertwining aspects of modern religion that disconnect its followers from their own humanity and the humanity of others, and each one is a big enough issue to deserve its own post.

But in my opinion it boils down to this: Christianity has stopped being about human relationships and started being about power and control because people have let themselves become too dependent on the materialistic systems of men instead of nurturing the abundance of God’s natural world. In ancient times the Roman Catholic church grew in authority and control by claiming the power of God to subjugate its subjects and take their resources. Men claimed (and still claim) the power of the church to subjugate, neglect or abuse their wives and children. Women are taught that their only value lies in serving their men, no matter how badly they’re treated in return. There’s no true relationship or love or happiness in any of this, but convince people that they’re headed straight to eternal damnation if they don’t go along with it and they’ll fall into line.

So men become Inquisitors to protect their position of superiority and power, never realizing how lonely and empty that position is making their lives. Women become Inquisitors because if their ONLY value lies in being a good Christian servant, then people who are on a different path must have no value at all and are clearly an outrage to all that is good and holy.

As Pastor Bill pointed out, fewer and fewer people are buying into this spiritually empty and unfulfilling version of what passes for the Christian Religion these days, because the Internet has opened up a whole new world of shared vision. Sure, there’s more chaff than wheat out here in the intertubes, but the sheer volume of creativity and differing viewpoints makes it pretty hard for a modern person to convince himself that he’s the sole proprietor of the One True Way. Slowly but surely, Christian churches that don’t extend a true sense of community and fellowship to all of humanity are becoming irrelevant and obsolete.

Pity the Inquisitors, don’t hate or fear them. They’ve traded their spiritual birthright for earthly “treasure,” and then stockpiled it all on a sinking ship.

Categories: Christianity, Life, Love, Marriage | Leave a comment

On The Futility Of Trying To Change Someone

On one of my recent posts someone commented that it’s unfair of me to get to know people by just letting them behave however they want with no criticism from me, because two-way input is important to relationship development.

As a matter of fact, I used to feel the exact same way. Let me tell you why I don’t anymore.

I’ve written before about how Steve REALLY REALLY wanted to start having kids right away, and yet as soon as I got pregnant and couldn’t go out partying with him all night anymore he lost interest in the whole parenting business and left me sitting at home to manage it alone. (I was chopping my own firewood at eight months pregnant, because it was that or freeze.)

It was very confusing and frustrating to me to find myself effectively a single parent, when Steve had been the one who’d pushed and pushed for us to start a family. I tried appealing to his sense of fairness and compassion, which had zero effect. After Elizabeth was born he barely came home at all. My tears, pleas, lectures, warnings, all rolled right off of him. “This is who I am,” he would say as he headed out the door. “I’m not going to give up my lifestyle, and you shouldn’t expect me to. Why are you taking this so personally?”

And there I was with a newborn daughter, no money of my own, and wedding vows that I still felt bound by.

I found myself making excuses for his behavior. “He’s young,” I told myself. “Parenthood is very overwhelming, he just needs time to adjust. Also, he was hoping for a boy. Maybe if we have a son things will be different.”

Things were different alright. They got worse. For some reason Steve took an immediate dislike to Luke; apparently he’d been hoping for a “mini-me,” and Luke looks very much like my brother and not much like Steve except for the crazy-thick hair and blue eyes. Whatever the reason, Steve felt animosity rather than love for his son, and still had no interest in his daughter even though SHE is his “mini-me” both physically and personality-wise. I guess girls don’t count in Steve’s world.

I was getting desperate by now. I tried everything I could think of to make Steve see that he was throwing away everything of value in his life to pursue the things that would eventually destroy him. It made not a bit of difference, except that now he gave a different reason for his behavior. “Maybe if you wouldn’t NAG so much,” he would say as he headed out the door, “I might WANT to be home more!”

So I changed my ways. Instead of pleading or threatening, I focused all of my energy on making our home as warm and welcoming as it could possibly be. I cooked meals that didn’t require him to be home at a certain time, so that he always had a hot supper waiting for him whenever he stumbled in. I was affectionate, understanding, accommodating.

We hardly ever fought anymore, but other than that nothing really changed. “Love ya, Babe,” he would say as he headed out the door. “Don’t wait up.”

Eventually I had to face the facts. Steve and I were never going to have a real marriage, because he didn’t WANT a real marriage. He wanted someone to raise his heirs and attend to his domestic needs so that he could be free to live his life as if he were single. I called an end to the farce, and I’m happier being single than I ever was being “married.”

I have learned my lesson, and learned it well. People are who they are. People cheat on their spouses because they are adulterers; it has nothing to do with who they’re married to. How you treat other people is not about who they are; it’s about who YOU are.

So now I just let other people show me who they are. It works much better than me telling them who I think they should be, which is pretty pointless anyway if you think about it.

I don’t know how to be any fairer than that.

Categories: Family, kids, Life, Love, Marriage | 6 Comments

“You’re on a first-name basis with Lucidity. I have to call him Mr. Lucidity, which is no good in a pinch.”

I’ve decided that when I can’t think up a clever title for a blog post, I’m just going to use a random quote from “The Tick.” It’s all good.

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So, somewhere around here is the One Year Anniversary of the day Steve and I first separated. I didn’t write down the date or anything, but it was during the week before Elizabeth’s tenth birthday and she’ll be turning eleven on Sunday.

This has been far and away the most educational and transformational year of my life. There has been so much new information crammed almost nonstop into my brain in the past twelve months that I wake up most mornings feeling like a slightly different person than the person I was the morning before. The last eight months have been especially eye-opening. The last TWO months have been…well, you get the idea: the more I learn, the more doors open around me to reveal even more stuff to learn. It’s dizzying and liberating and at times remarkably painful.

I do wish to clarify that this hast NOT been the most painful year of my life. Not even in the top five. Possibly not in the top ten, because I’m pretty sure all the “winners” in that category fall before 1996. Truth be told, every year since I first moved in with Steve has been a Disney-themed cakewalk compared to the soul-crushing horror that my mother delighted in inflicting upon her offspring at every opportunity. Just want to be clear on that, in case anyone is wondering why I stayed in what was obviously a dysfunctional marriage for nearly twelve years: it was better than where I’d come from, and it’s not like I had a point of reference for what a healthy home life was supposed to look like. (And I suppose in Steve’s defense neither did he. Bummer for both of us.)

Whoops, little digression into Bitter Country there. I’d meant for this to be an upbeat, cheerful post, because that’s my prevailing mood these days. As overwhelming as the unrelenting flow of Here’s Something ELSE You Didn’t Know! has been at times, I remain grateful for the ever-broadening perspective on life, the universe and everything that the past year has offered me.

Here’s to clarity. Here’s to moving forward.

And while I’m on the subject, here is the most brilliantly useful bit of wisdom that I’ve acquired this year. I’m going to share it because I wish someone had told me this decades ago:

The only people who demand forgiveness for the harm they’ve done, who go on and on about how good Christians are supposed to be infinitely forgiving of all transgressions, are the people who have NO INTENTION of ever changing their harmful behavior. They NEED to be forgiven by their victims so that they can go right on victimizing them.

People who have genuinely repented of their selfish, destructive ways and want to change do not demand forgiveness from the folks they’ve hurt. They just STOP HURTING THEM and start being productive, compassionate human beings and let nature take its course. They offer selfless love instead of abuse or neglect, and they understand that healing takes time and patience.

Believe it. Jesus never meant for you to spend your life suffering so that some self-absorbed manipulator can feel powerful.

You’re welcome.

Categories: Christianity, Family, Life, Marriage | 4 Comments

You Should Have Seen The Post I Wrote BEFORE I Calmed Down!

It’s probably a good thing my Internet’s been down for the past few days so I couldn’t blog anything; sometimes that cooling-off period makes a big difference in what actually makes it online.

It was a pretty epic post though.

So. Where do I begin?

Recently I’ve been forced to come to terms with some things about Steve that I simply did not want to see during our marriage, even though they were right there in front of me. This isn’t a subject that I want to get deeply into on a public blog, but it has some major potential to threaten the physical, mental and emotional health and safety of my children, so it’s been weighing pretty heavily on my mind this past week.

And while I was mentally wrestling with this concern my sister sent me an email saying that our mother is in the third stage of renal failure and is basically circling the drain. And all I felt about that was relief. My mother is a poisonous sociopathic parasite, not to put too fine a point on it, and the world will be a cleaner and safer place when she’s out of it. I hadn’t been in touch with my siblings in months, but the day after that email my brother called me (collect) and asked me to pass a message on to my sister, so I called her, and during the course of that conversation she casually mentioned that she (her word was “we,” so she meant she and my brother at the very least) had known all along that Steve was fucking around with other…people (I really wish I could just type “women” here, but that would be, as they say, only half the story)…all throughout our marriage, and had COVERED FOR HIM.

Do you hear that sound? That is the sound of me finally hitting the end of the amount of outrageous personal betrayal that I am willing to tolerate from my batshit-crazy blood relatives. And there’s a FUCKING LOT of outrageous personal betrayal leading up to this point, let me assure you. I will leave my siblings in my address book just long enough to send them the URL of this blog post, and then I’m finished with the lot of them. I’m just…done there.

Okay, I think that’s all for today. Mighty pretty weather we’re having lately, isn’t it? I really think spring is right around the corner.

Categories: Family, kids, Life, Marriage | 7 Comments

Memory Lane, Part Last: Bailey Ranch

Life at Bailey Ranch (the place Steve and I were caretaking when we first moved in together) was pretty sweet at first. Sure, there was an epic mess to clean up that the previous caretaker had left behind — it took us MONTHS of working every day to get it all hauled to the dump — but in exchange for that we lived there rent-free. The caretaker’s house was a tiny, ancient mobile with cardboard walls and a nonworking oven, but compared to where I’d been living it felt like the Taj Mahal.

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And the part of the ranch that we lived on faced a big green-year-round pasture that needed to be grazed down, so our horses and cows were fat and happy and our feed bills were practically nonexistent.

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Which was good, because money was TIGHT. Steve was working part time as a veterinary assistant, and I was collecting unemployment from the closed-down machine shop and searching for a market for my art. Collectively it would have been enough to live on, but to complicate matters, Steve knew literally nothing about managing money. The term “drunken sailor” comes to mind. When he lived at home with his parents (which was right up until we both moved to Bailey Ranch), they had given him his own credit card to cover all his living expenses, and THEY paid the bill every month. So Steve had it in his head that credit cards=free stuff, and somehow that didn’t change when it was MY credit card we were using and the bills were coming to us. “What do you mean we can’t afford that?” he would protest in exasperation. “There’s almost seven thousand dollars left on the card!”

Adding to my frustration was the fact that Steve’s father was constantly swooping in, paying some outstanding bill or handling some repair that Steve should have taken care of, and then WHINING INCESSANTLY ABOUT IT. And it was no use me asking Steve to ask his father to please let us handle our own concerns, because financial independence was a completely alien and totally unwelcome concept to him.

I know, I know…and still I married him. What can I say, I thought it was something he would outgrow once he got used to living away from his parents.

Anyway, so we were always looking for ways to supplement our income. So when a local horse-trader asked Steve to put a little training into a couple of problem horses he had, Steve agreed and they came to live in our pasture.

One of the trainees was a striking pinto Mustang filly called Bunny, so named because of the perfect rabbit shape on her right shoulder. I was inspired to paint her.

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When I showed the painting to the horse trader, he bought it from me and asked me to do two more of his horses, a mare named Sixxy Miss…

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And an aged Thoroughbred stallion named Jet T Chub:

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Chub was gorgeous for his age. I ended up breeding Stormy to him, but as with all of her pregnancies the embryo was reabsorbed before the second trimester.

Word got out, and other people asked me to paint their horses.

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In the middle of all of this, Steve got a decent-paying job working security at the new casino and we got married. And pretty much the instant the knot was tied, he started talking about having kids right away.

I was not on board with with this. There were too many aspects of our relationship that still needed work before we brought another human into the equation, not to mention the appalling state of our finances, and frankly I personally did not feel ready for motherhood.

But it was all he could talk about. How much he wanted to be a dad, how much he had to offer and teach our children, how he wanted us to be a family instead of just a twosome. To prove his sincerity and devotion to being a good father he quit smoking, quit Copenhagen, stopped overspending and paid off all our debts.

So, about ten months after the wedding, I got pregnant. And it turned out that when Steve talked about how much he wanted to be a dad, what he actually meant was that he looked forward to hanging out drinking beer with his teenage sons, because that whole gestating-infancy-toddlerhood-childhood stage? Was noisy and messy and inconvenient and a major buzzkill and he wanted nothing to do with any of it. His parents helpfully told him that just because I no longer had the energy or desire to hang out in smoky bars, didn’t mean that HE had to stay home. So they all went out partying together, and he went back to smoking and chewing and spending money like he found it in the road, and oh yes, apparently that’s when all the cheating started too.

Looking back, that was pretty much the end of our marriage: the day I gave in and got pregnant. It took another eleven years for me to admit it and give up trying to save it, but that was really when it ended.

And coincidentally that was when my art career ended as well, because as soon as I got pregnant all of my creative juices started flowing in a different direction and the part of my brain that did the art thing completely shut down for a year or so. It took me most of my first trimester to finish that picture of old Tank, and I wasn’t happy with how it turned out so I gave it to the owner for free.

I tried to get back into it when Elizabeth was a baby, but once she started walking (and climbing!) there was no place to work that was safe from her. So aside from a Christmas card or two, I haven’t done any artwork in about eleven years.

I’m thinking maybe it’s time for that to change. I could paint, print and sell greeting cards maybe, or get serious about writing and illustrating children’s books. Or go back to doing pet/horse portraits. Even in this economy there has to be SOME kind of market somewhere that I can break into.

So…there you have it. The Twenty-Year Retrospective of Debora’s Artistic Journey, Which Actually Only Spans About Ten Years Because I Hopped Off The Art Bus Halfway Through.

Further updates as events warrant!

Categories: Animals, Artwork, Family, Horses, kids, Life, Marriage, NaBloPoMo, Ranching | 10 Comments

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