This or That

I have a friend who discovered late in life what she had always felt – her “father” wasn’t actually her genetic, biological dad. What is often referred to as NPE (not parent expected). Today, she wrote –

There is a stunning feeling when you need to take personal responsibility to wrongs done to you. It is stunning and confusing. Sometimes causes a wound that is blinding and at times suffocating. Running in circles, like chasing your tail, some things are hard to accept. Accept it. Done, work with it.

Many therapies work to meet injuries and reform and transform them on many levels, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

I have found some injuries lead to what I have come to describe as “this or that” mentality. There isn’t a remedy. There is no answer, there is no change, there is no hope. You have a rich milieu and a drive toward contrast. Second that drive lets up, feels like you are being drawn back to the “this” instead of reaching for the “that”.

“That” is the therapy, whatever is moving you away from the “this” which is the wound, the impossibility of circumstances that twist your heart, wounded your life. You have that to work against constantly, with endless, incessant pressure that if used well and correctly you can possibly actually reach the “that”.

You may face people saying you need therapy out of that, yet due to circumstances that became your personality structure. This is what you take responsibility for: the drive, the determination of that personality structure.

There are some things that cannot be undone and you may never stop feeling that. You are not “responsible” for that, but for the drive that it gives you.

This requires a high degree of self-education, character and discipline, to define an act and act upon it. Otherwise, seems the “this” swallows you up. An enormous cost for something you had no hand in deciding or wanting. How the cookie crumbles.

Crumbled a great deal of energy on your plate.

When questioned, she further elaborated – What I have been looking at and trying to formulate thoughts and direction is around these types of wrongs and any scale of wrong that you had no hand in. It comes up on you and your life and personality is defined by it.

You are left “dealing with it”, taking responsibility for something that you cannot change. It has to change you. You go through a great deal, bone cutting, soul cutting, breath restricting pain and change. You can’t “fix” it.

There is a lot of therapies to “fix” us, to heal, but some injuries don’t heal…then what?

I have been looking at a lot of circumstances, studying them, looking into the dynamics of what drive people in all types of ways. It is always some deep wound, a deep “wrong” that drive people one way or another. So I began to look at the drive…THAT is what we are responsible for. Not the wrong, but the drive.

Hard to take your mind off the wrong and the injury – and if you look at that too much, you might miss the opportunity to understand your drive painful and impossible situations might give a person.

I need to add one response to her – We have no say in the matter as to the wrongs committed upon us by others in this life. But we do have a say in the matter if such wrongs destroy us or not.

As a child, I had a horrible act committed upon me as six. A physical scar of which I carry to this day. I could have let the shame I felt, the anger, hate, and rage I felt towards the persons responsible simmer and boil in me for the rest of my life. But it would have destroyed the person I was before the event. They would have succeeded in utterly destroying the rest of my life.

It took me time. But for the sake of my life and sanity. I learned to “Let go” of that shame, anger, hate, and rage. Else, that poison would have gone on inflicting and reliving that act in my mind day after day the rest of my life. And my perpetrators would have succeeded in destroying “me.” So I let it go.

It doesn’t mean I forgive them! That will never happen!

But I can honestly say I’m back to being who I started out in life to be “I’m me” and the physical and emotional scar left over from that attack no longer has any sting, any meaning to me. Other than an old scar.

One of the core teaching Buddha taught about suffering in the world was that. One of the traits of suffering in the world is that it’s natural for humans to not ‘Let Go’ of past injustices. The violent act is over in minutes. But for the rest of our lives, we carry that suffering and pain like a great weight upon our souls. No one forces us to. We do it to ourselves by way of our Ego. And therefore we suffer for the rest of our lives. Not only that, but in time, we inflict that suffering upon others. Ie “Misery loves company.”

Therefore, we should learn to Let Go. And in doing so bring Peace to the Soul.

I never went to therapy for what happened to me. I was very young when it happened and my parents were of the generation that believed in that old motto and hope ‘He’ll grow out of it and forget.’ That never happened. I had to discover that healing on my own when I was older and I did.

I’m glad I never got therapy. For I feel therapists, though good intentioned, perpetuate that suffering by continuing to remind you that your helpless victim that somehow broken.

You only remain that if you refuse to ‘Let Go.’

I’m a Survivor!

A Missing Mom

Tina Turner with sons

Tina Turner was born Anna Mae Bullock on November 26 1939. Her parents, Floyd Richard and Zelma Priscilla Bullock, were sharecroppers. She was raised in Nutbush, Tennessee, where she recalled picking cotton with her family as a child. She sang in the tiny town’s church choir. When Anna Mae was 11, her mother Zelma left her abusive husband (Tina’s father, Richard) and moved to St Louis. When her father Richard remarried, he left Anna Mae in the care of her grandmother. True this was a kinship guardian kind of situation and not all that uncommon then – or today. It still left wounds of abandonment. blogger’ note – I did much the same, leaving my 3 year old daughter with her paternal grandmother, when I took a leap of faith to try and earn enough money to support the two of us (since there was no child support forthcoming).

Tina became pregnant during her senior year of high school. She moved in with the father, saxophonist Raymond Hill, who was living with Ike Turner as part of his Kings of Rhythm band. She welcomed her first child, Craig, in August 1958, though the couple had already broken up before he was born. Tina Turner lived as a single mother until she began her relationship with Ike. Tina then helped raise his two sons from his previous marriage to Lorraine Taylor – Ike Turner Jr and Michael Turner. Tina and Ike Turner had one biological child together, Ronnie, who was born in 1960. Ike adopted Craig and Tina adopted Ike Jr and Michael. Tina adopted Buddhism and feels the practice of chanting has had a positive effect on her life.

Tina suffered the deaths of both her biological sons during her lifetime. In 2018, Craig died by suicide at the age of 55. He had been working as a real estate agent and had struggled with his mental health. Tina is known to have said that he was always an “emotional child.” She described his death as her “saddest moment as a mother”. She scattered his ashes off the coast of California. Ronnie Turner was born two years before Tina and Ike married in 1962. Ronnie had dabbled in acting, including with his mother in a biopic movie based on his mother’s life titled What’s Love Got To Do With It. His father, Ike Turner died in 2007 at the age of 76. Ronnie spoke at his father’s funeral. It was shortly after that, when his own health battle began leading to his death in 2022 from the complications of colon cancer.

Ike Turner Jr has spoken about the estrangement he and his brother experienced when their mother moved to Europe. She was the “only mother he knew” and he felt that she had abandoned him, saying “I haven’t talked to my mother since God knows when – probably around 2000. I don’t think any of my brothers have talked to her in a long time either.”

Tina has said – “I had a terrible life. I just kept going. You just keep going, and you hope that something will come.”

Jarvis Jay Masters

Jarvis Jay Masters is a former foster care youth and long time inmate on Death Row in San Quentin Prison. His story is now getting a lot of attention since Oprah chose his book That Bird Has My Wings for her book club. Rebecca Solnit has also taken up his cause and his Buddhist choice for sustenance has brought him additional attention. It may seem strange with so much attention given to his situation that I am only just now learning about him but I had read a book some months, maybe a year ago, about how unequal our criminal justice system is and how overwhelmingly unfair to black men. And as part of my learning about all things adoption, foster care has also come to my awareness many times.

He was born in 1962 in Long Beach, California. At the age of five, after watching his father almost beat his mother to death, while he tried to keep his sisters safe, he was taken by the system from her. The children were living in filth and hunger when they were finally found. Someone (perhaps the old lady who set out food for them) reported them to the cops, who brought in social services. The sight of how ragged their clothes were then led social services into their house. The situation was so bad they were removed from both the house and their parents.

This is how from the age of five, he was in and out of foster homes and institutions, enduring violence and trauma in a system meant to provide some measure of protection for him. Here is the story of one such memory of the kind of care he was receiving.

One morning when he was nine, while eating breakfast and hating the yolk from the fried eggs he had been fed. As he usually did, he went to dump that into the trash without his foster mother knowing he had done that. Only this time her daughter saw him. At the trash can, he was met by his foster mother’s hand as she hit his face. She had slapped him so hard, his ears rang and he could taste blood bubbling in his mouth. After that, she grabbed his head and stuffed his face down into the garbage, all the while yelling at him to find the eggs and eat them. During this abuse, he passed out.

I will make a long story shorter (you can read much more at the LINK> to the Free Jarvis website) – he ended up at the California Youth Authority, the last stop before adult prison. After his release, he soon found himself sentenced to 20 years in San Quentin Prison at the age of 19. Hooking up with a childhood friend of his uncle’s, he was involved in an armed robbery trying to grab sacks of money being collected by a store employee from the registers. He says, the whole scene was a disaster and in less than a day later, there were warrants out for their arrest, even charging them with crimes in towns he had never even heard of. Even so, he actually felt lucky to have been caught and thereby stopped as his life had spun so far out of control.

Four years after entering prison, a guard was killed and he was one of three charged in that crime. He was innocent as all of the other prisoners were well aware but a jury found him guilty of a conspiracy to murder and he was sentenced to death by lethal injection. That is why he has spent more than 21 years in solitary confinement, which longer than any other prisoner in San Quentin history. A woman judge was assigned to the case, and this brought back memories that he had a woman judge the first time he was taken away from his mother.

When he was a child, he had been made a ward of the state as they told him, they only wanted to protect him but never did. Now, he found himself in the same kind of room, with dim buzzing lights, as the law was deciding how to kill him. He describes that life in San Quentin – “To find home in San Quentin I had to summon an unbelievable will to survive. The roaches, the filth plastered on the walls, the dirt balls on the floor, and the awful smell of urine left in the toilet for God knows how long sickened me nearly to the point of passing out.”

Now his Buddhism and his legal case, thanks to his writings, have made him a bit of a celebrity, perhaps on the verge of finally being acquitted, or at least pardoned, and released into freedom as a changed man with so much to offer others in similar circumstances to the ones his life brought him into. Wisdom gained at a great price.