Flying Pigs

On January eleventh, all five siblings and two parents of my family of origin met in a skilled counselor's office (Mark Carlson, trained by Gloria Taylor) for six hours of communication aid. It was fascinating and valuable and painful, and VERY hard not to pop into the various coping stances as identified by Satir. No doubt I cycled through them all, but at least did my best not to express them.


Considering that this sort of sharing group with a counselor is scary beyond all reason for certain family members, it was a miracle that it happened at all. I had been joking about "pigs flying," and lo and behold, flying pigs were the month's free animation in my Animation Factory email. That is too uncanny.

So then Rebecca S. gave me this adorable Folkmanis creature which she had just found and wasn't sure who she was meant to give it to. . . .

One thing about my family of origin is, we are all such incredibly NICE people, and don't want to hurt each other, which often prevents us from being genuinely truthful. We aren't "real" with each other.

And sometimes, especially lately, I do "irrelevant" to survive emotionally. I feel very detached, think it's all pretty ridiculous, and "get on with my life." "Whatever." Family gatherings often feel pretty deadly. I feel bitter and cynical and want to run around and dance and point out all the elephants and shout out all the things we can't say. Why not? Nothing is ever going to change. (Classic Satir "irrelevant" with a tiny bit of "super-reasonable" thrown in for flavouring. Hey, blaming and placating got old. )


So the three family black sheep were there, all wanting unconditional love, and meekly accepting what scraps and hand-outs the other family members were able to give, given their monumental PRINCIPLES which must be upheld above all. "Principles," and upholding them and fighting for them came up a lot as a thing the "principled ones" praised each other for. Above all, they were standing up for their principles. Sigh. I remember. I really do. It is one way to be and to do "following God."

I can't even begin to explain---I don't even want to try to explain the entirely other way I (and at least one other sibling) see(s) the world. (A brick wall and bloody forehead come to mind.) They'll get it for themselves when they get it, or they won't. Whatever.
I don't have energy to try to make that happen any more, as if it was my business to decide they SHOULD see things the same way I do! It's not.

But real safety, friendship and intimacy cannot exist in certain environments. There needs to be a certain mutuality, a certain overall common view and trust for genuine mutual intimacy to survive and thrive.

My guess is that such trust is still a long way off for my family of origin. We play well together. We sing well together. We all have delightful senses of humour and quick wits. We definitely get pleasure from each other's company, so long as certain elephants don't enter the space. I suggested it might help if we named the elephants and welcomed them to join the party....


I'll call my upcoming ordination "Sophie." Meet Sophie. (She may look goofy but is actually very wise.)


So, when all was done, I was the one feeling rage and anger and frustration. The family was baffled and sorry that I felt so terrible, except for Marcia who suggested that I was feeling it for the whole family. That fit, and was very comforting. We have so far to go, and the work was so "pretty." There's nothing wrong with pretty, unless it is slowing us down, which I suspect it is. I wish we weren't all so afraid.

Oh well. Shall we try for hell freezing over?