Joy and/of Disclosure

Quote of the Day:

This case has a lot more to do with the fear of death than the sanctity of life. George Felos

It's all about grief ...

Joy reminds me of a photograph of myself as a young child. Sometimes when I am "out of confidence," I stare at this picture long and hard and imagine the childhood joy I see in the eyes of that little girl living on deep inside me. It gives me hope and reminds me that I deserve to be happy. In a way it strengthens feelings of compassion. Joy and compassion are strongest when I am free of fear.

This picture makes me feel that joy is a human right.

Andy writes:

There's really only one reason why my life is not overflowing, this moment and all moments, with joy: I don't allow it.

Even though I know it's there for the asking; knowing that all I have to do is allow joy to flow through me as it wants so much to do. Joy is not something out there, in hiding, waiting to be discovered; it doesn't have to be earned as a reward; it isn't achieved by enlightened understanding. Joy is not conditional on the results of anything I do, except one: it simply waits for the door to be unlocked and a channel opened for it to flow.

There's more - here.

Do people other than bloggers have the same feeling of excitement as I do when I stumble upon a site where the postings are intelligent, humorous, compassionate and creative? Probably the feeling is similar to when I read a good book, see a great movie, play, or meet a stranger and make a new friend. Similar feelings of course. But I think there is something different about cyberspace - out there - in the silent airwaves all around - people who we connect to, "... dancing on our keypads, singing silently to strangers."

Once I wrote:

It reminds me of bloggers. Some of us show our photographs and some do not. Even so, we remain a mystery to one another. Sitting in our different little "closets under the stairs." I think about what it might be like to meet up as a group over drinks or coffee or tea. Would it take away from the tension of waiting for responses, acknowledgment or the feeling of something left unknown, unsaid about the other? Such a different, detached, mysterious sort of intimacy, hearing and seeing our "voices" muffled in cyberspace.

Am still curious as to whether it would be the same to meet in the flesh, face-to-face, or if the anonymity factor is what makes it exciting and intense.

Thinking about blogging or how much we disclose about ourselves, I was moved reading Amba and Danny on this topic recently. At least one member of my family has chosen not to tell me about their life in any way for fear I will post it on my blog. When I write about my feelings, fears, experiences, ideas, or opinions I will most likely draw on my interpretation of personal stories and interactions with others. It is hard not to speak of people who have influenced or affected me. Who I am and how I think and feel has developed from significant adults in my childhood years as well as others as I grew up. Humans are social beings after all. Young children learn by imitating and observing. Interpretations come from personal life experiences and our emotional memory is engraved in our brains within the first five years of life never to be erased.

I was tested last week. I was asked just one question that would tell him everything he needed to know about me. Which do I think is more critical in forming the human psyche: nature or nurture? When I answered nurture he went on to ask if I believe that some people are congenitally evil. "No," I said. He beamed at me so I guess he was pleased with my answer.

Disclosure about myself is tricky. If I tell you how I feel based on my life experiences and encounters with others I will probably mention people who have influenced or affected me. So there is an aspect of protecting others when we talk about ourselves. Personal disclosure is connected to the concept of loyalty. It always reminds me about how some people believe that patriotism means never saying anything bad about ones country. That does not sound like loyalty, love or patriotism to me. It is more like blind obedience to a dominant view. It smacks of fear and paranoia. After all, love is complex. It is full of all sorts of feelings, including anger, jealousy, disappointment, expectation, as well as happiness and joy. Most of the way we experience love is based on what we learned in early childhood. It is common knowledge today that abused children seek out abuse in different forms, including perpetuating it over and over again when they are adults. Working for thirty years with young children and families has reinforced this knowledge.

To my tester I say: I have never met a child who was congenitally evil. What I have learned is that all children want and need to be loved and accepted unconditionally.

But I digress. Loyalty is not about obedience. It is about understanding, sharing, accepting and respecting. In order to develop these attributes one has to delve and dig into ones psyche, questioning and reflecting, opening and sharing pain and vulnerability in an atmosphere of safety and trust. It has been excruciating to watch the Schiavo case unfold because of all the intense emotional pain. And yet I have been reminded that this is what needs to happen. Open, painful debates about the issues we care deeply about. I fervently hope that defense mechanisms do not backlash and the right to choose and express is not shut down as a result of confronting too much discomfort.

I always remember some of my first therapy sessions when, for the first time, my life experiences were validated and believed. The guilt was enormous. It was as if I had betrayed everyone. Tom had a similar experience. He was shocked and surprised when he discovered that his childhood had not been as happy as he had thought. He felt like he departed from adolescence and became an adult when he was able to recognize his parents and siblings as flawed, human, fallible. The result was a deepening of his relationships with members of his family as they accepted his discovery with love and understanding.

So, where do I go from here? Continue down the road of complexity and balance, I guess. Sometimes I will need to share myself more than others. Some days I will hold back and reflect alone. How grateful I am that other bloggers out there in space, hanging on airwaves and all over the world are choosing to bear witness with me - not allowing me to go unnoticed.

Comments

[Danny]

Great post, Tamar. I am fascinated by some of your family members' issues with disclosure. What are they so afraid of? Is it something like those cultures who believe that if someone snaps their picture a piece of their soul is taken away? My sincere but mischievous advice is to stop asking anyone for permission. Knowing that you will be discreet about truly personal matters, I think you should write about whatever you want in your blog and talk about anyone you feel like mentioning without worrying about what they might think. No one owns your memories but you, right? Aren't we free to share our personal experience with the world? (Not that I don't OFTEN worry about this same issue...)

[Tamar]

Danny,
It is always a challenge for me to realize that I don't need to ask permission for my memories and self-expression. You probably know this about me more than anyone. Therefore I am grateful for your understanding and support. And am especially grateful for your recognition of my ability to be discreet in really personal matters! This belief in me is timely - much needed! Thank you.

[Richard Lawrence Cohen]

Tamar,
I love these first two long posts upon your return from London. And like you, I think that we in this blogging community get emotional sustenance from one another, as well as esthetic pleasure from reading one another's writing. So it's like reading a good book and making a new friend at the same time. A bargain!

Also I want to second Danny's comment above. Why should someone who likes you so little that they withdraw from you over your written words--why should they have the power to control your self-expression? Emotional blackmail. (And maybe if you call their bluff, it will teach them something.)

[Tamar]

Richard,
Thank you for enjoying these posts. As you can imagine if you had read this: http://tamarika.typepad.com/in_and_out_of_confidence/2005/03/finding_a_lost_.html - that I became completely hoarse after writing them! Amazing. I guess I was "dancing on [my] keypads, singing silently to strangers" ... as David G. said.

Thanks, too, for the encouragement to keep on keeping on. You are an inspiration!

[Adriana Bliss]

I want to echo Richard's comment - these two posts of yours have been a joy to read and reread. The idea of disclosure on a blog is interesting - sometimes I feel bad because I usually write about things that sadden me or bother me and that is an incorrect presentation of "me." I'm not THAT sad, I am generally happy and joyous. But...that doesn't always come across.

I'm not sure about sharing anger or pain with the person who gave it to you. Sometimes, it's good to simply put it behind you especially if there is a place to begin. My mother disappointed me in so many ways during my life - but after a while, when she shined so with my children, I chose to simply enjoy what she could give me and move on without ever saying anything about all those hurts. She'd heard them before, she didn't want to ever deal with them, there was no point anymore. I'm glad I chose that route.

Again, wonderful posts...so much to think about.

[Tamar]

Adriana,
I would never think of you as a "sad" person when I read your postings. Lyrical and reflective, and often humorous, are more the terms I would use.

Am glad if my "disclosures" gave you so much to think about. Indeed, so much to think about for me too - constantly.