I do not know how to be in relationships where there are so many doors closed to where conversation could lead — that it can’t.  Where things of importance cannot be touched.  Where people seem to conceal from themselves the background that sustains all that is not known evidently because people cannot afford to know these things.

If a person tries to plan a trip forward to go somewhere and there are road blocks and detours that lead in circles or nowhere at all — everyone concerned or involved will eventually become so lost there’s no return and no destination.

I don’t know if this is true for myself because I can’t find out, at least not from other people.  I am left feeling alone even in the company of others.  I end up thinking if I had been raised in a home without so much abuse I never would have asked the questions that I do.  Then I wouldn’t know there are so few answers.  Or, more probably, none at all.


The inner pain, the inner confusion, happened so long ago in abusive families all involved, most certainly siblings, were forced to proceed not knowing the questions and left without real hope for answers because everyone was overwhelmed from the beginning.  Left to do the best they can do.  And this has to be enough for love to flourish between people — anyway.

Such love flourishes in spite of all the difficulties.  It seems to be something unique in me that seeks to work things through in language.  In words.  In conversation of open give and take that would seek for truth where others keep it forever unknown.  Out of sight.  Hidden.  Buried away.  Permanently concealed.  Off limits.

How do I negotiate to retain relationships that have so little access to truth needed to actually maintain them?  How does give and take get negotiated?  How does need and want, desire, fear and hope between two people slide back and forth smoothly and cooperatively when nothing related to anything of meaning can be spoken?

Is nearly everyone (it seems) so bound and gagged even in their thoughts that we walk together in a world of mass joint silence that keeps denial alive everywhere we turn and so few can ever even notice?

Do we end up internalizing one another’s silence until it seems to become our own?  Until we give up trying to figure out where our own forced silence has joined with another’s so that what they refuse to know becomes what we cannot know ourselves?

I cannot guess.  I cannot force anyone to open up what they choose to keep covered up inside themselves.  I cannot pry.  I am too aware of keeping peace by keeping pace as those I know or meet or love allow me to be in their lives — only to the degree I keep my mouth shut.  Keep my own thoughts and feelings about nearly everything I would talk about — to myself.

How do I retain and maintain my own relationship with myself?  Walking through life with so many people who are so silent even tas they talk and talk about affairs of being alive in a material world, where conversation stays on the surface having to do only with the basic levels of physical needs in a physical body in a physical world that belies the possibilities of deeper understanding about the experience of being human?

Doesn’t this become a never-ending series of encounters with people where compromising what really matters leads us into hollowness, generation after generation, as we exchange between one another words only about our material nature as if we, too, are made of dollars and cents?

We leave unspoken, unfaced, unmined, unexplored, unknown, the truth about who we REALLY are while we reduce so many of the moments, hours, days, months and years of our lifetime to materially based transactions while we remain empty inside and empty together.  What human relationship can we find, then, when so much of what makes us truly human is missing in action?


It is not a good sign for the future of America that “shallow” has been replaced with “empty” and so few even notice.  I don’t think the problem rests only within members of families where horrors of child abuse left children now grown with so little to talk about other than sheer continued material survival. 

It seems that the truly human voice of great literature depths has left us as we now wander through life in some kind of a daze we do not recognize.  Do not identify.  Struck, we are, numb and dumb with our own inner depths left idle.  Left alone.  Left silent.  Untouched.

Where, then, lies the soul of the world while we clank and clunk around transformed into consumerized zombized robots?  Where lies our true power?  Where lies our grace and our passion?  How did this great disconnect happen that led us so astray from who we could become if we knew who we really are?

Are we the disenfranchised intent on keeping distant from one another by so thoroughly, carefully, intently, determinedly keeping so hidden from ourselves?  Are we going in the wrong direction?

What will our future hold?  Does shallow lead to empty and then to nothing?  Are we becoming empty shells?  Are big box stores and subdivisions full of ugly box houses and pavement consuming us from the inside out as we enslave ourselves to our base material existence?  As we extinguish our own contact with the inward sources of our own humanity?


What do we actually question deeply?  Do we really believe that smut pulp fiction (ask Random House publishing) makes us better people?  Do we question the source of what we believe?  Do we remember that as humans we are exquisitely designed to look below the surface of our material world to see the source of life’s heart beating within everything we see and touch?

Is this a spiritual disease that empties a nation of its soul?  Is this disease contagious?  Where are our thinkers?  Where are our watchers?  Our listeners?  Who speaks?  Of what to whom?

Are the lights of our true and inner selves being extinguished, blinking out one by one as darkness envelops our earth even as it is lit up only with light bulbs that make our planet glow empty from outer space?  Until?


Where are the gatherings in every community where humble people join together in conversations about what actually matters?  Are we all so enslaved?  How do the lonely few keep their own inner light burning brightly as they work to transform their experience into knowledge and wisdom that sustains the deep levels of being human?  What can we give without giving up or giving in? 

We have an increasing quantity of human bodies on our planet.  Do we have any quality left to show for it?

I can’t help but wonder.


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March 8, 2013




  1. I hear what you are saying and recognize it. Have suffered all of my life in a similar fashion. Even when attending an online course by Jean Houston, few people were truely sharing themselves, their thoughts, their passion etc. Another thing that really bored me, feeling hypocrite and untrue, was the constant applauding each other, always staying in the positive, never any truth, any critical remark. I often find it curious that so many songs, do talk about deep feelings, and so many people love listening to those singers. Personally i love the kind of movies, that do go the depth. Especially scandinavian movies do not fear deep, extreme emotions, familyconflicts, abuse etc. I keep up with news in the world through several newsletters. There i also meet the depth of living. 5 broken camera,s about palestinian in occupied territory was very impressive. Next week i will volunteer for some days working for Amnesty International Movies that Matter festival. So in the world there is depth of feeling, living and thinking. But you have to really look for it. Most people, i guess are so occupied, they live life on a treadmill. Some just are not interested to know about the suffering in the world and of the world. I guess, having suffered people like you and me just cannot afford to engage in that kind of denial, knowing from our personal pasts how the denials of people, we talked to, also traumatized me. Until i went into silence, more and more acting as if, adapting to the reality i clearfelt to be present in the other. Recently i heard a man talking in a similar fashion. There are some experiences, like Vietnam or prison, when not shared personally, simply cannot be talked about with the general population. I believe the man had been in prison, while innocent, for a long time, then freed from all charges. I personally also engage in sharing on Facebook. Have very few friends there, but it is always nice when out of the blue someone reacts to some article i posted. Reminding one that we are human, we belong to the same humanity. When younger i read a lot of books and found solace in feeling connected to the ones who wrote the book. I also sign up for teleseminars. And sometimes when there is a page where people can comment, i find kindred people. I guess my aloneness mostly plays itself out, feeling totally unheard, misunderstood, when talking about my disorder, the dissociated parts, all the ways i do not function, my stagnant, at times turned to stone, frozen heart, that can no longer feel love as love should be felt/experienced. Was it because my children, when becoming adults, crossed a line into regular society, far away from the soullevel i am habituated to live/function on. Or was it my last divorce from my algerian exhusband, who literally dumped me as if garbage, that turned my heart to stone, so damaged so broken, that feeling just became too dangerous. I mended/repaired some, but never fully. I yearn for real love, i yearn to be loved, that i in the sense of all the I’s that i experience/live, never happened to me. I was someone’s mother, daughter, friend, partner but never felt treated as if i was theirs. Something always seemed off, seemed to be missing. Having pets taught me how loyal love is supposed to feel. How true love stays, is still there the next day, no matter what one did, whether one had a fall out. Every day a day anew, where only the love is remembered, not the anger or resentment from the previous day, the previous conflict. And i too wonder, how and why it is, that my very life, resembles/mirrors the conflicts/issues mother earth is suffering. As if some cosmic plan is being played out and i am playing my part, possibly very minor part, fitting in the whole of the scheme. It is not just in my personal life, but in the world at large that suffering seems to be ongoing, conflicts seem to be ongoing. So many hypes about letting go, affirmations, creating abundance, yet the entire world seems to be in attachment disorders, having lost all cohesion, all respect, all reciprocity.

    • Hum….. I was writing a reply and it vanished…..

      These words of yours, found them just after posting this:





      Your words:
      And i too wonder, how and why it is, that my very life, resembles/mirrors the conflicts/issues mother earth is suffering. As if some cosmic plan is being played out and i am playing my part, possibly very minor part, fitting in the whole of the scheme. It is not just in my personal life, but in the world at large that suffering seems to be ongoing, conflicts seem to be ongoing.”

      I think about this a lot, and I believe this is true. All life is one — the disconnection is an illusion humans believe to be real. The world is in travail as literally a new human race is being born. The world will NOT stay the way that it is now. Ongoing LIFE will not tolerate the mess much longer.

      How to be on the side of the new life while lending our efforts to the transition, to the transformation, to the new birth/new life coming? Contributing what we can, remaining hopeful and positive, open, concerned and caring.

      Humans can be so much more than we have chosen to be. The call has gone out. We are going to have to change. We are destined to GROW UP, to mature as a species. Not part way to stop there — ALL the way mature. There will be healing then and joy beyond our comprehension. You and I are certainly not of the generation that will see the fruition of the destiny of humanity — but to think that I am playing some small part? That is FANTASTIC!!

      • I simply has to be enough. We are good enough. Who possibly put in more efforts in then the broken ones to regain sanity, to mature, to grow up and be functional adults. For it is only when life pushes one over the edge, that those major inner battles are undertaken.
        As long as status quo can in any way be maintained people prefer to stay in their own tight corner, in their own box, not even realising they are staying locked in in a virtual prison.

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