Healing Prayers (by whatever name)
A well-recognized part of my strictly personal psycho cycles is where I begin to mentally attack the people who have hurt me over the course of my broken life. Given my long and gory herstory of paranoia, delusion and projection, that is one of the noisier puppet shows in my head. There is no predicting who or what might slither, jump or fly out of that riotous cast. It is one of the places where my fertile creativity is far more curse than blessing. In my fertile imagination, Mickey Mouse can grow into Godzilla with discouraging ease.
A recurring discussion in my therapy network has been, "Praying (by whatever name) for the healing of the people who have hurt you the most." Accurate data unavailable, but I believe it is one of the more consistent discussions in my healing journey, beginning from before my first formal psychotherapy appointment in May, 1972. Proof unavailable, but I am quite convinced my first umpteen reactions to the discussions were psychotic outrage. ! ! !DON'T YOU DARE POLLUTE MY EARS WITH THAT POLLYANNA BULLSHIT! ! ! Half a century later, I remain skeptical, but by some mystery, I am beginning to wonder if I have already added the tool to my psychotherapy toolbox. Increasingly, when that well-recognized piece of my cycle begins, I am able to quiet the accompanying mental chatter with a prayer for the healing of the person I am mentally attacking. I still reserve the right to pray for vengeance, but those are caustic prayers which only feed the mental chatter.
The first few times, an uncounted number of years ago, that I inserted a healing prayer for a perpetrator into my habitual mental chatter were sneak attacks and I *corrected* myself immediately to return to my usual wishes for the cosmos to give the jerk-off what *they deserved.* I want justice! ! ! Or is that Just-Ice?
Somewhere along the trail of tears which was already quite muddy with tears when my grandchildren were placed into protective custody October of 2018 and is still flooded with the tears from the deaths of those dysfunctional parents in September, 2019, I have come to realize that those healing prayers for the people who have hurt me most have become reflexive. I pray for the healing of perpetrators long before I pray for vengeance and/or justice.
Dunno. . . Reckon I'm just rambling. . . This Saturday morning feels far too peaceful to have anything interesting to dramacate over. Just rambling over esoterics.
It looks like the kids are going to spend the entire winter vacation with the other grandparents. They are going to provide their own taxi service. Go guys! ! ! Way to put your independance where your mouth is! ! ! I havenae been initiating dialog with the children over the other grandparents. I answer questions when asked, as factually and briefly as possible and I dial the phone for them when they ask to speak to them. The older sibs stopped asking questions after Hubs and I made it clear we werenae going to provide taxi service on top of all the other demands of custodial care. Last night, in the continued synchronicity between the two branches of the family tree, the children asked to speak to the other grandparents. I dialed. The children were thrilled when they received the news that they were going to spend winter vacation in their hometown. I believe the news was all the more magical because it was delivered directly from the other adults in the other grandparent camp. Go guys! ! ! Prayers ongoing for giving the children the gift of free and easy access to both branches of their family tree.
We have a busy day ahead of us today. Big Bro has his first "Little Dribblers" basketball game this morning. He has been enjoying practice tremendously and is quite nervous about his big event. Big Sis has finished her first dance class series and has her first dance recital early this afternoon. I'm sure glad we donae have to add 6 hour taxi runs to the mix. I'm looking forward to the 2 week vacation from the demands of childcare. Part of me wants to run to my sorely missed rivers, but there sure is a boatload of tasks which have been neglected here in the midst of the chaos, in addition to the new and still empty housing upgrade. Girl howdy, I hate shopping.
We see what grows. . . For now I am still taking itsy bitsy baby steps.
Replies
Thank you Arfie for sharing this entry because right now this hits the nail on the head regarding much of what I’ve been working through with my therapist.
“Prayers” are a..., how do I put it..., sometime conflicting issue for me, but I do appreciate your description of it. I still have my hang ups regarding religious matters but I do think prayers are important and don’t require religious association. (I hope that makes sense.)
Recently I’ve been very conflicted about my own feelings towards those I feel have hurt me and my desire for justice, particularly as mine involve family members I was once very close to & that time of the year is coming where I won’t be able to avoid them and the conflict I feel towards them.
I’m glad that the other GPs are stepping up.
Hugs and love my friend. Your entry has given me a healthy meal of thoughts to chew on that I think I was missing in my healing diet.
Hugs
Hence the, "by whatever name." I was raised in what I call, "The Schism of the Isms." My spiritual development consisted of religious debates and. . . Yucko bucko, them doth sucko. . . Religious debate enthusiasts can bash a child's faith in ice cream. Proof available.
And the wounded spirit remains in need of healing, by whatever name. . . I can even put tonal wings on my ^it^, if that be the only word allowed for ^it^.
I keep a daily Gratitude Journal to develop a habit of positivity to counter balance myself out. As you mention with your PTSD, my own PTSD left me with mental habits of projecting negativity. Prayer and meditation have helped me develop more of those positive habits as a counter balance, too. Sort of like how the slogan "fake it 'til you make it" from 12 step programs works. The "fake it" aspect here is not phoney, it's a sort of stepping out by faith in a way, I don't know how it works, it just does for me day by day. Praying with you now, arfie.
I feel my gratitude exercises as something far different from praying for the healing of people who have hurt me. I'm not sure I am spiritually developed enough to be grateful for pain and far less for the people who inflicted the pain. Yes, every proverbial cloud has its silver lining, but the anger and resentment continue coursing through my emotions. I don't really expect myself to ever place the assholes on my gratitude lists.
I understand and support the "fake it 'till ya make it" approach, but it doesnae work too well for me. I just might be the world's worst actor. I gotta come from my own heart or I short-circuit. Right or wrong, what you see is what you get. Interpretations of what you see are an entirely different thread. . . It ain't my job to educate you.
"Progress over perfection" is a more effective 12 step tool for me. I doesn't have to master the song in the first sitting. Practice, practice, practice. I see the two approaches as functionally equal, but little things can make big differences in the art of life.
For what it's worth:
I see meditation and prayer as synonyms.
Forgiveness isn't easy...… I'm glad that I have God's help with that one... I find I go back and forth with it.... I can be all forgiving and then I can be mad as hell
I'm so glad that the other grandparents are being more reasonable Arf…. I hope that you and your hubby get some well deserved rest over the holidays.... Enjoy the game and recital..... Those moments are precious..... Big hug.....xo
Big Bro won his first game. 6-0. It was fun and easy.
The recital might even qualify as a tragedy. The crowd was huge and hard to navigate. By the time I managed to find the group Big Sis belonged with, I was informed in fashion diva arrogance that I had done everything wrong and had to fight my way through the crowd to get back to square one and this is where the flight instincts of a panic attack hit. Full force. The frequent flier was in motion. Were the ladies looking down their noses at Big Sis for not having enough hair to accomplish the uniform dancer bun?
By the time we fought our way out of the crowd to where I could breathe again, Big Sis was in hysterical tears. Big Bro, Little Sis and I spent a long time in the parking lot trying to console her. She seemed okay as of the arrival back at the farm. Aside from not liking to play with her hair, hence the short hair, Big Sis is intensely girlie girl. She loves her dresses, dolls, etc. Hence the dance lessons.
And again I wonder. . . How do they manage to get male dancers? I've seen them onstage, so I know they exist, even though I've never met one. This dance school is 100% female of the fashion diva class. Is that usual?
One definition of prayer is "an earnest hope or wish". Always a difficulty to separate the people from the harm done. Best I have come to is that they pass on what they went through. I do believe that we can be the change in that cycle. Just my own thoughts. Hugs to all.
Don't know my friend, all I could think about after I read your journal was prayer is a gift as is the journey of a Butterfly ... the cycle, then the beauty and then the freedom of flying
all I can offer right now is some good thoughts with hope of endurance with some peace. A fraught life indeed. hugs
The "progress over perfection" slogan you mention works for me, too, arfie. I interpret it to mean "don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good." For me, anyway, good is plenty good enough.
When I let my spiritual sense mix freely with my scientific sense and consider the physical dimensions of a neural pathway, I get ever bolder in thinking little things make big diffs. Believe in what works for you.
Seems to me the diffs in the definitions of "Perfection" are big enough to be irrelevant. One soul's perfection is another soul's doom.