Nothing simple about family
✨ Morning light streams in through the tall windows and I savor a few moments of contentment, perched on a bar stool at the granite countertop in my daughter’s new spacious kitchen. My 3 year old grandkid is beside me. We are each in our own world: I with my pen, he with a paper napkin .
I’m journaling about staying at my sister’s house while his napkin takes on an animated life of being chased by a dinosaur and then rescued. I think the saver is one of his Paw Patrol heroes, although I can’t tell for sure. Maybe it’s Buzz. 🐝
In the quiet reverie, a gentle but strong wave of gratitude sweeps over me: I had a great visit despite profound differences in belief - political and otherwise - that could have easily formed an irreparable wedge. I had sensed a fierce, unspoken commitment to love enveloping us. Respectful chatter flowed with ease and we skirted around hot topics. It was no small thing.
I honestly didn’t know this level of ease was possible. My heart aches ❤️🩹 for the fractioned families across the country and I’m thankful for the complicated, messy one I have.
I like knowing the roots of words and had to remind myself of the etymology of ‘family’. What I found online didn’t match the tender feelings I had journaled about - but the early Latin references to ‘servant and slave’ resonated in a different way. 😳
For most survivors of spiritual, religious and cultic abuse, there’s nothing simple about family. While under coercive influence, many of us unwittingly become enslaved to a ‘chosen’ family while severing from the ones who birthed or raised us. Many survivors have been shunned for choosing life over the shackles of indoctrination or we've lost children, siblings, parents to cultic involvement. 💔
When I was 17 years old, I sat in a smokey bar 🚬 called Wet Goods and listened to a fair-skinned blonde sing her heart out. Her words have stayed with me ever since:
Simple.
Keep it simple this time,
All up on the surface
All in a straight line
Easy. Don’t complicate the story.
(Then there's a lilting line I can’t recall… ) The song ends with:
Just keep it easy.
Ahh… if only it were that easy. Right?
But I do wonder: can we find - and create - moments of simplicity?!? Sitting with my grandson that morning, I had to quiet the voice in my head that said Make breakfast! Clean out the cupboard! For once, I chose to sit with my pen, creating space for a hero to emerge from a paper napkin. Simple.
What's your simple - or not so simple - family story to tell?
I invite you to put pen 🖊 to paper and fingers to keyboard ⌨️. Perhaps focus on just one family member and write for 10 minutes. What happens? Feel free to hit reply or better yet, come share it at the next Writing to Reckon Zoom Party on March 2nd.
Are you wanting to write the not so simple family stuff but scared to? Writing within the supportive presence of a small group of other survivors can be profound. And illuminating. Check it out on Fridays 10-noon EST.
Don't forget about the upcoming Writing Symposium! Early bird tickets $39.
See you at the writer's table.
