Ten Commandments

God, Please Help Me Today,

To Cultivate Life

To Be Generous 

To Be Loving

To Speak My Truth 

To Own Nothing 

To Be Healthy 

To Be Content 

To Know Myself 

To Cultivate Compassion 

And To Remain Awake and Aware

Born A Woman

“Tears are tears, suffering is suffering, and our feelings are to be trusted.” 

~Gloria Steinem~

Was I Four

Or Was I Three

Was it the 

Wee Bear

Or Was it just

Them Two

I know.

I remember.

I’ve always known.

I’ve always remembered.

I saw the 

Fear in their eyes

When they asked,

Do you Remember 

The Wee Bear?

Yes, haha.

Laughing instead of Crying 

The silent tears still

Falling

Innocence Destroyed

Trust Annihilated

Growth Stunted

Entire Future Changed

Irreversibly Irrevocably Inevitability 

Ancestral Demons

Handed down

Generation after Generation 

The only one who could have

Saved me

Then, and Then again

And Again 

Blinded in her Childish Allegiance 

To Them

And not to Me

Her Body housed me,

Grew me

Gifted me, Life.

Her soul stayed closed to me,

Never let me in

Her heart an Iron Door

Forever Locked

Apologies Amends Acknowledgement 

Accountability!

 

Never to come.

They gave me their Demons,

All Three of Them

Through Misdeeds and Misactions

Now my battle concludes.

Eradication Exorcism Ejection 

Rejecting Shame.

The Shame

Was never mine 

To own

Never belonging to me

Placed on Me

Placed on Woman 

With open hands

I give back

The shame that

You Earned

the body keeps score*

My dad was 22 years old when he met my mother. She was 15 years old. My dad and his older brother Joe, who was 23, said that they went to the playground to look for “dates”. First Joe asked my mother out and she said yes but he didn’t show up for the date. So then my dad asked her out. A year later my mother’s parents drove them to Reno to get married and my mom dropped out of school in the 9th grade. A year after that, when my mother was 17 and my father was 24, they had me.

To My Parents:

I already know how this conversation will go. You’ll ask why I’m so serious, so angry, why I can’t let go of the past. You’ll ask if I have a therapist, why I blame everything on you, and when I’ll take responsibility for my own life. Then you’ll insist you did nothing wrong but also say you’ve learned from your mistakes—contradictory, but I’m the only one who notices. 

You’ll say you’re too old to discuss this, that Joe is dead, and that we shouldn’t speak ill of him. You’ll minimize my childhood, compare it to yours  and say that yours was worse but not actually tell me about it. You’ll demand that I respect and honor my parents like; you do yours. 

You’ll tell me that I am making it up, for attention.

Or perhaps, even though you have told the story a hundred times including in the company of my husband, because it is such a “fun” story, you will actually deny it. It wouldn’t be the first time that you have denied something that at one time or another was common knowledge and a funny joke to tell people about. But here is the deal; it is not funny. It has never been funny. It will never be funny. People who were not a part of our messed up family drama only laughed because they were uncomfortable. They only laughed because they didn’t want to make anyone feel bad. Or they laughed because they thought it should be funny to them even though they never felt that it was funny. That is how it was for me. Every time I heard the story told or was asked if I had any memory of the actual event I would feel sick to my stomach. My heart would sink and shrink inside of me. And my mind would go numb. It still does.

 But I would laugh for you. 

I was somewhere between the ages of three and five years old and we were living in that little apartment. Mom was around 20 years old and working at Kmart. Dad and Joe were 27-29 years old and neither of them were employed, other than side hustles of breaking and entering, stealing prescription pads from doctors, and petty theft from local businesses. They were both heroine addicts and taking pain meds and whatever other drugs they could get their hands on. All three of you drank and you all smoked tobacco and weed. Yes, that is the environment that I spent my precious toddler years. There was no daycare or safe space, Mom left for work and Joe and Dad were charged with “babysitting” me. 

A question comes up here, when Mom kicked Dad and Joe out, because they wouldn’t quit using heroine and actually stuck the needle in Mom’s arm when she demanded that they showed her what the big deal was. (she didn't like it, she said)

And Mom kept working but as she put it “became very depressed” who watched me then? Did anyone watch me? Or was I simply left alone to fend for myself? I do remember being alone. Alone in my room. Alone in the stairwell (and eating cups of sugar). Alone and running around outside. Alone and going into the neighbors houses while they were at work (and eating cake).

But to the point, the question! The story that has spawned yet another attempt on my part for clarity and answers. I’ll tell it from Mom’s perspective, since that is the way that I remember and hear it in my head, the hilarious story to be told at family get-togethers and when I would bring a boyfriend home to meet the parents.  

“I was headed to bed and Wes was still in the living room watching t.v. when I walked by Tanya’s room and the door was open a crack so I looked in and their was Joe peeing all over her, the bed, and her stuffed animals! He got so drunk he thought it was the bathroom (insert laughter here). Well I went right out and got Wes so that he could go in there and get his brother.” 

(end story) (laugh again)

How could you, Dear Mother, seeing a man peeing on your small child in her bed, then walk away to get someone else to stop him? How could you, Dear Father, not get angry at your brother for peeing on your child? Who cleaned up the mess? Who washed my sheets and bedding? When did you wash it? In the morning or did you stay up late and wash them right then? Who washed me? Was I given a shower or a bath? (or neither) Did you wash my stuffed animals or did you throw them away. Did you talk to me about it afterwards? Did you tell me what happened? (It’s ok sweetie your Uncle just peed all over you while you were sleeping.) Was I awake while he was peeing on me or did you have to wake me up to clean the mess. Or if I didn’t wake up did you just let me sleep in his pee until morning? Why did you think it was funny? 

And, here we go...

Why does this story get brought up along with the “Wee Wee” Bear? Why was my stuffed animal named “Wee Wee”? Why did Dad and Joe call me “MaMa”? Why did they talk to me with in that voice. Why did they move that bear up my body? Why did they have me lift my shirt up? Why did they do this at night while I went to sleep. Why do you think that I remember the tones of your voice being sexual and “naughty”? Just like boobs on t.v. were “naughty”. Why do you think that all this bothers me so much? Why do you think it keeps me up at night? Why do you think I can’t help but wonder what happened? Why do you think that it makes me nauseous? Why do you think that it makes my heart ache? Why do you think that it makes my jaw ache? Why do you think that it scares me? Why do you think that it makes me sad? Why do you think that I can’t let it go?

And why was my damn stuffed bear called “Wee Wee” Bear?

“Kiss the Wee Wee Bear!”

(sounds like a good cover story, she said she kissed a Wee Wee or that was just her stuffed animal)

I have memories of the Wee Wee bear and them touching me with it and wiggling it up my body and saying the word “MaMa" as if it were a dirty word. Of them getting me to lift my shirt and show my dad and uncle my chest while I was in the bed and they were both there. 

Throughout my teenage and adult years both Dad and Joe both asked me so many times, with weird looks on their faces, “Do you remember the Wee Wee bear?” Yes, I would say and fake laugh. Then I would end the conversation by changing it or leaving the room. I never wanted to talk to them about it and I always felt a huge surge of anger when they would ask. And, hurt.

1995:  

I had asked my mom but I was very vague in what I was asking and she just sort of quickly laughed it off and left the room, I clearly remember it as we were in her bedroom standing by her dresser and she just walked out. I was 18 at the time and had been having panic attacks after having an abusive boyfriend. The panic attacks made me think about the bear. But after she left the room I remember I just stood and stared at the floor. 

2002:

I never told anyone about my memories until I met E, my first husband. We were standing on his front porch and it was very late and he’d been drinking and he told me about how his older cousin had molested him when he was 12 years old. He told me that he had started drinking shortly after that. I shared my memories with him and it felt safe. He believed me. He cared. After E and I got married we both decided to work on our issues so I participated in a 12 week support group for incest survivors. I went to every single session but one and grew deeply during the experience, but I did not go to the last group meeting. We were all supposed to share our story and then we would say good-bye. I neither wanted to share my story nor say good-bye so I just didn’t go. However at the end of it I decided that I would confront both of my parents at the same time and finally get the answers to my questions.

2003: 

I planned to confront both of you, but the morning I was going to, Joe died. I drove to Bend and stayed at my in-law’s house on Friday night and was going to ask my parents on Saturday afternoon. On Saturday morning my mom called and said that my uncle had died during the night. He had gone out drinking for his 50th birthday, drank too much, went home and passed out, threw up in his mouth, and choked to death on it. My grandma was there and was the one who found him and performed CPR until the paramedics arrived. We were all devastated.

2006:

I finally worked up the courage to ask, again. My mom showed up at the house that night and I started to change my mind about asking her. She had trained me well to be fearful of her. Her rage and insults are unrelenting when she doesn't like something that I have said or done. But I was sitting on the couch and she was starting towards the door to leave and I asked her: Mom? Did Dad and Joe touch me when we lived in the apartments? She replied, “What?”. And I said, “I have these memories about the two of them touching me and I’m just trying to figure things out. And I was wondering what you remember?”

BOOM! I literally felt the earth shake.

“YOU DIRTLY LITTLE SLUT! MAKING UP SEX FANTASIES ABOUT YOUR DAD AND YOUR UNCLE! AND YOUR UNCLE IS DEAD! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD SAY ANYTHING BAD ABOUT HIM, HE’S DEAD! AND YOUR DAD! YOU FUCKING LITTLE WHORE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! YOU’RE CRAZY! YOU NEED TO GET THERAPY TO FIGURE OUT WHAT FUCKED UP THING IS GOING ON IN YOUR HEAD! YOU’VE SEEN TOO MANY FUCKING MOVIES! YOU DISGUST ME! YOUR DAD IS GOING TO BE SO DISAPPOINTED WHEN I TELL HIM! YOU’RE SICK! SICK IN THE HEAD!”

All that I could say in return was, “please don’t tell dad that I asked.”

She walked out the door and slammed it hard. About an hour later she called to let me know that she had told my dad and that they were both very disappointed in me and that I need help.

We Are All God’s Creatures

“Rather than God bless America, or whatever country you happen to reside in, Allah save our people, or Krishna bless those who believe in you, there is a simple GOD BLESS HUMANITY! Let me do all that I can to treat everyone, without exception, with goodness and kindness, as all of those whom we revere as spiritual masters have taught us by the example.” ~Wayne Dyer~

~I Honor The Place In You Where We Are All One~

“All things share the same breath: the beast, the tree, the human… What are people without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, people would die from a great loneliness of spirit.” ~Chief Seattle~

Teacher

“Breathing in and out, I am aware of the fact that I am of the nature to die; I cannot escape dying. I am of the nature to grow old; I cannot escape old age. I am of the nature to get sick; I cannot avoid sickness. Everything I cherish, treasure and cling to today, I will have to abandon one day. The only thing I can carry with me is the fruit of my own actions. I cannot bring along with me anything else, except the fruit of my actions in terms of thought, speech and bodily action.”

~Thích Nhất Hạnh~  10/11/26-01/22/22

“Breathing In

I know that I am Breathing In

Breathing Out

I know that I am Breathing Out”

“Flower fresh, Mountain solid”

Namaste Thay

Third Eye

Ajna! Light Chakra! 

Sungaze: Close your eyes, face the sun, focus your gaze on the space between your eyebrows. Feel the sun entering. Opening. 

Intuition 

     Visualization 

          Clairvoyance 

               Vision

Yantra Yoga: Meditate on a visual symbol, Mandala. Eyes open, imprinting the image on your mind. Eyes closed, visualizing the image in the space between your brows. Try using a pine cone.

Mantra: Om, pronounced Aum. 

Visualize your pineal gland. Located approximately mid-brain, at the level of the third eye. 

Restore your pineal gland and circadian rhythms with good sleep health. Rise every day at 6am and see bright light. Retire every night at 10pm in a dark, quiet, cold space. Eat only between 10am-6pm. 

KRISHNA! is the God of the third eye chakra. Krishna is Love. Love Krishna, Sing to Krishna.

Hare Rāma Hare Rāma Rāma Rāma Hare Hare Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Hare Hare

Chant: I See

Study: Owls, learn all you can. Seek them.

The Voice That Knows

Don’t stop. Keep climbing.

You won’t get there,

If you do not know where you are going.

Sit down. Shut up.

LISTEN.

To the Shiva within.

That voice that knows.

Jesus - Allah - Krishna - Buddha - Infinite 

That voice that waits for you to hear!

Once heard, Never forgotten.

“A journey of a Thousand miles,

Begins with a single step.”

Take It!

And know where you are going.

I Am.

Shaivites: “It is the Hindu tradition that most accepts ascetic life and emphasizes yoga, and like other Hindu traditions encourages an individual to discover and be one with Shiva within. The followers of Shaivism are called "Shaivites" or "Saivas".”

“DELIGHT IN MEDITATION 

AND IN SOLITUDE,

COMPOSE YOURSELF, BE HAPPY.

YOU ARE A SEEKER.”

Greatness

“I will never abandon my belief in my greatness and the greatness of others.” ~Wayne Dyer~

“Everyone wants to change the world; most people can’t even change themselves.” ~Albert Einstein~

Cocoon becomes home,

As my home has become my cocoon.

Protective space, for transformation.

When emerged, unrecognizable.

Newness. Greatness.

The whole world contained, inside. 

Inside,

The Whole World.

“Nature may seem to have little regard for individuals; it may let them die in millions as if it mattered nothing. But value is in quality, not quantity. A pea maybe as round as the world, but as far as roundness is concerned, neither is better than the other. A person is in themselves a little universe; the ordering of their mind and body is as complex as the ordering of the stars.”  ~Alan Watts~

Cultivate Life

You cannot coax a flower to bloom.

You cannot rush.

Too much water,

or too much sun.

Neither will speed nature.

Wait, slow down.

And simply Watch life unfold.

All of the mysteries will be revealed,

All of the beauty will be shared.

Sit. In quiet contemplation.

Just watch the earth.

You will see.

The Dance of Shiva

Simplicity is Truth.

Life is a Dance,

Why do we Complicate it?

Why do we make it Messy, Hard?

Human Nature is not, 

To make Mountains out of Molehills.

Social influences, 

Ancestral demons handed down,

Again and Again.

Until we have all forgotten how,

Not to hurry.

Not to rush.

If you rush this moment, 

You will rush this day.

If you rush this day, 

You will rush this year.

If you rush this year,

You will rush this life.

Why?

Why Rush Life?

Slow down, enjoy.

You only get one life.

You only get this moment.

Sip,

Savor,

Dance!

The Foam of a Wave

“Letting go of resentments does not mean we allow the other person to do anything to us that he or she wants. It means we accept what happened in the past, and we set boundaries for the future. We can let go of resentments and still have boundaries! Resentments do not punish the other person; they punish us. ~Melody Beattie~

“Thus, to know humanity, understand earth.

To know earth, understand heaven.

To know heaven, understand the Way.

To know the Way, understand the great within yourself.”

~Tao Te Ching~

Just Get Over It.

I Am.

And,

I’m making sure it doesn’t happen again.

Can I know myself,

Within the drop of water.

Can I see myself,

In the ray of a sunbeam.

Looking inside myself,

I see the earth’s creation.

Looking to the earth,

I see my own soul.

I am electricity,

My switch is on.

When my Beloved calls me home,

He will flip my switch off.

Nothing more - Nothing less.

But Everything all at once.

“Understand that the body,

Is merely the foam of a wave.”

~Buddha~

Unhurried Life

What is it that you truly desire?

I desire my own Land.

In the Desert.

I desire my own Space,

A meditation hut, yoga studio, sun room.

Far away from city noise.

Far away from human lights.

Far away from modern conveniences.

Wood Heat. 

No electricity.

Please give me Water, and Air.

Please give me Hope, and Contentment.

 

I would also like a cup of tea, outdoors, in a comfy chair, on a warm sunny day in the shade of of tree. 

And perhaps You sitting next to me.

“LOVE IN THE HEART OF MAN IS A SHRINE TO GOD ON EARTH. 

JAI GURU DEV!”

"I often lie awake at night from happiness, and all the time I think of our future life together. I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one’s neighbor — such is my idea of happiness. And then, on the top of all that, you for a mate."  

“If you want to be happy, Be”  ~Tolstoy~

Do It!

"There is no comparison between someone who has their own real experience and someone who just reads about the experiences of others.” 

“Focus on this life. Live this actual day. Pay attention to just this very moment. This is where it’s all happening, not in some future life time, not in your next birth or your middle existence between incarnations. Just here. Just now.” ~Brad Warner~

Sunset

I observe the beauty, daily

Watching the sunrise, soft silver pink

Watching the sunset, fiery purple orange

Listening to the whispers of the creek

Listening to the crunch of hooves in snow.

Do you know what a Blue Spruce smells like?

Can you recall the scent in your mind?

I can.

When this day begins, I begin anew with it

When this day ends, I end with it.

Can I keep the mind that I had,

Before I was born?

Can I remember myself, before I was defined?

When I return to the place of my origination,

Will You know Me, My Beloved?

Om Namah Shivaya

Oh My Beloved Lord Shiva.

Om is not your name, 

The sound is You.

Do you know what the Infinite looks like?

Can you recall the Cosmic when you close your eyes?

I can.

St John of the Cross

 

“My Beloved is the mountains,

And lonely wooded valleys,

Strange islands,

And resounding rivers,

The whistling of love-stirring breezes,

The tranquil night

At the time of rising dawn,

Silent music,

Sounding solitude,

The supper that refreshes and deepens love.”

bikini bigfoot

Becoming 2022

 2022

“Are you willing to be sponged out,

Erased - cancelled,

Made nothing?

Are you willing to be made nothing?

Dipped into oblivion?

If not, you will never really change!”

~D.H. Lawrence~

Word Of The Year: CONTENT

“Fun becomes Fun

Love becomes Love

Life becomes worth Living

And, I become Grateful”

Become Content

Good people do not argue, with life or with others, learn to say: You are right! And I appreciate you sharing your point of view with me.

Meditate.

Live Purely.

Be Quiet.

Do Your Work With Mastery.

Wanting Nothing, She travels alone.

NO STORM IN NATURE CAN LAST FOREVER.

Tracks

 

“Your tiredness has dignity to it. There is no shame in admitting you cannot go on. You have been on a long journey from the stars. Even the courageous need to rest.” ~Foster~

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning.” ~Eliot~

“We tend to blame others for why we’re feeling angry, but it’s important that we take a certain amount of responsibility.”

Follow the tracks of anger

Deep within the mazes of mind

When the end is near, it is you

I will see. Holding the cheese.

Cold Hard Winter

“Surrendering is a mental process: it involves taking a split second to stop yourself in your mode of judgment or frustration and have a brief talk with yourself on the spot. Just remind yourself to step back and be a witness rather than a protagonist, which you can do by providing a sanctuary for the feeling you’re judging. Invite Divine natural order in by simply allowing what you’re experiencing to go forward without criticism or control; in this way, you move to the center.”

I allow. Not because I have the control to allow, but because I have no control so I must allow. If you loved me you would try. If you needed me you would try. If I was important, you would make the effort. You would do some thing. You would do anything. You would stop the separation. We would know one another. You would apologize. And you would own your part. And you would make amends to me by changing your behavior in the future and treating me with respect. What is it that we see in this world? Why is the natural order so unnerving.  Pandemic. Loss. Grief. All encapsulated within the seed of new beginnings. A new day. A new year. A new chance. At a new life. 

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can. And the wisdom to know the difference.”

I will learn to live without you. Just as I once learned to live with you. Learning to live is the hardest lesson we will ever face.

Together Again

 “Just sit there right now 

Don’t do a thing

Just rest.

For your separation from God,

From love,

Is the hardest work

In this 

World.”

~Hafiz~

Dark Chocolate and Yellow Flowers

I rise,

With the morning light,

Internal clock set.

I’ve trained, My mind

First thought,

“THANK YOU GOD FOR ANOTHER DAY ON THIS BEAUTIFUL EARTH”.

I move,

Slowly. In silence.

Boil water, steep tea.

Ritual infuses my day,

With ceremony.

Sip. Breathe…

Inhale for Seven seconds,

Hold for Four seconds,

Exhale for Nine seconds,

Hold for Four seconds,

Repeat.

I ask myself,

“Tanya, my dear friend,

What is it that you desire today?”

I pause.

Wait.

Listen.

I hear myself,

“Tanya, my dear friend,

I love dark chocolate and yellow flowers.”

I sigh.

“Yes!”

I smile.

Flow Like Water

“Speak the Truth

Give Whatever You Can

Never Be Angry”

~The Buddha~

ALL THAT IS MINE,

ALL THAT I HAVE, 

ALL THAT I NEED.

I HAVE!

IT IS WITH ME,

ALWAYS.

“How can a woman’s life keep its course

If she will not let it flow?

Those who flow as life flows know

They need no other force:

They feel no wear, they feel no tear,

They need no mending, no repair.”

~Bynner~

Flow, and Go Merrily Down the Stream

One Life

 

One Life, One Chance. When will it end? If today were the last day of your life, what would you do? How would your spend each hour? Where would you be? And who would you be with? Who would you call? Who would you say I Love You to? And who would you say I’m Sorry to? What memories would you cherish most, and what would you regret never having accomplished? One Life, One Moment, One Day, One Chance. 

From the moment that we are born, we only get one guarantee in life; and that is that we will die. You will die and I will die. In 100 years almost every single living creature on this earth will no longer be. Billions upon Billions of living organisms gone. Most forgotten.

Thankful for Grizzly Bears

 

“Change your life by consciously choosing to be in a state of gratitude. The journey of your life will change when you emphasize gratitude for all that you are, all that you accomplish, and all that you receive. Practice silently repeating I THANK  YOU throughout your waking hours, and as you fall asleep and awaken. It really does not matter whether you are thanking God, Spirit, Allah, the Tao, Krishna, Buddha, the Source, or Self, because all of those names represent the great wisdom traditions. Give thanks for the sunshine, the rain, and your body, including all of its components. Have a brain, heart, liver, and even a toenail appreciation day! Your practice of gratitude helps you focus on the real source of everything as well as notice when you are letting your ego dominate. Make this a silent daily practice: give thanks for the bed, the sheets, the pillows, and the room you sleep in at night; and in the morning, say I THANK YOU for what lies ahead. Then begin the beautiful day by doing something kind for another human being someplace on the planet.” ~Dyer~

“AHO Brother Turkey!

So freely you give,

Of everything that you are.

So that others may truly 

Live.”

Today, tonight, every moment, of every day. I think of you My Beloved Lord Shiva. How you guide me with your gentle hand; leading me through this land. I was not taught how to devote my life to you. I was not raised to know your ways. But through your gentle guidance I have grown in your love and in your light. You are my source. You move me. As I close my eyes to speak to you my mind floats through your cosmic energy. I am transported across the globe to the other side of this magnificent planet to the spot where you are seated deep within the Himalayan Mountains, perched in the Ganges River. I see you. I see myself in your mind flying through the night sky. I see you in every creature I encounter and I weep at your beauty and strength. My connection with you is whole. You are my home.

Millman

 

“The world’s a puzzle, no need to make sense out of it.”

Meditation on Impermanence

“We can’t force habits to change, wounds to heal, or the mind to be quiet. All we can do is set the stage and wait.”

Ralph

“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.

He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.

Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.

Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.
Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense.

This new day is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on the yesterdays.”

Li Po

 

“The Birds Have Vanished Into The Sky And

The Last Cloud Drains Away.

We Sit Together, The Mountain And I,

Until Only The Mountain Remains.”

The Wise Buddha Said

“The wise person tells you where you have fallen and where are you yet may fall these are invaluable secrets! Follow them, follow the way. Let them chasten and teach you and keep you from mischief. The world may hate them, but good people love them. Do not look for bad company or live with people who do not care. Find friends who love the truth! Drink deeply. Live in serenity and joy. The wise person delights in the truth and follows the law of the awakened. The farmer channels water to her land. The fletcher whittles her arrows. The carpenter turns her wood. So the wise person directs their mind. The wind cannot shake a mountain. Neither praise nor blame moves the wise person. She is clarity. Hearing the truth, she is like a lake, pure and tranquil and deep. Want nothing! Where there is desire, say nothing. Happiness or sorrow whatever befalls you, walk on untouched, unattached. Do not ask for family or power or wealth, either for yourself or for another. Can a wise person wish to rise unjustly? Few cross over the river. Most are stranded on the side. On the riverbank they run up and down. But the wise person, following the way, crosses over, beyond the reach of death. They leave the dark way for the way of light, they leave their home, seeking happiness on the hard road. Free from desire, free from possessions, free from the dark places of the heart. Free from attachment and appetite, following the seven lights of awakening, and rejoicing greatly in this freedom, in this world the wise person becomes themselves a light, pure shining and free.”

She Touched The World

Over half of female homicide victims in the U.S. are killed by a male intimate partner. On average more than 1 in 3 women in the US will experience rape, physical violence, and/or stalking by an intimate partner. 1 in 10 high school students has experienced physical violence from a partner in the last year. An average of 24 women per minute are victims of rape, physical violence or stalking by an intimate partner in the United States. 72% of all murder-suicides involve an intimate partner; 94% of the victims of these murder suicides are female.

I went to Spread Creek to express my grief and say a prayer for Gabby. I also prayed for so many other women in our country. This was a hate crime. I believe that Domestic Violence is a hate crime against women.

When I was 17 years old I had a boyfriend who regularly hit me. I was frightened of him. He was 6'0 and 220 pounds. He could knock me down with one push. And regularly did. He was jealous, angry, controlling, and manipulative. And he convinced me that everything that happened was my fault.

We were driving home from Redmond Oregon to Bend Oregon. I was driving his truck and he was in the passenger seat. He was angry at me and jealous because we had run into a friend of mine, a guy. The interaction with my old friend lasted less than 30 seconds. But the 20 minute car ride to his house was excruciating. At one point he hit me and I pulled over. We both jumped out of the truck. I no longer wanted to drive. As we crossed paths behind the vehicle he slapped at me and I slapped back. A car horn honked.

We were back at his house for about an hour, and he had hit me several more times, when the police showed up. Two male officers. My boyfriend stood in front of me in the doorway and I peered out from behind him at the officers, my face was red and swollen from being slapped and crying. This was in 1994 and I cannot remember what he said to the officers. What I do remember is one of the officers angling around my boyfriend to get a better look at me. He leaned forward and put his finger in my face...

"You had better stop causing trouble before you get your boyfriend in trouble."

And they left. Within an hour my boyfriend had gotten his mother's gun out of her nightstand. First he pointed it at my head. And I begged him not to hurt me and cried. Then he put the gun to his own head and I begged him not to hurt himself. I told him that it wasn't his fault. He put the gun away.

Our relationship lasted for only four months. 27 years later and my body is shaking just typing this. The effects were long-term. I had therapy many times in my 20's and was diagnosed with PTSD. I am much better today. But those four months left scars that will never fully heal.

How different would my life have turned out if those officers would have at MINIMUM contacted my parents and told them what was happening? Or if his mother, who was fully aware of the situation, had done something, anything?

I didn't end my relationship with him because he beat me, I ended it because he cheated on me. He married the woman that he cheated on me with and had children. I tried to warn her friends, who were mutual friends, but was told the he would never do such a thing and that I was just jealous. Those same friends later told me that she divorced him after five years because he was beating her and the children. I also later found out that he had choked his girlfriend before me and was caught by her dad. Her dad made them breakup but never reported it.

I fully understand the #MeToo movement. Because I have so many female friends with similar stories. Stories of abuse, sexual assault, incest, rape, domestic violence... stories that should be told, heard, and believed. As a society we need to stop enabling abusers and blaming victims. And we need to train our first responders to not only recognize the signs of domestic violence but to actually do something about it.  

I volunteered for years as crisis counselor and victims advocate at a domestic violence shelter. I received my bachelor of science in women's and gender studies. I watched the police body cam video of Laundrie. The second he apologized for letting it "get so public" I knew. Watching her tears and apologies I knew. Which leads me to believe that those officers knew too. How could they not? They have so much more experience than I have and so much more training. I believe that they chose to ignore it. And I believe that this happens every day all across our country. 

When will it stop? When will we stop allowing this to happen to ourselves, to our friends, to our sisters, to our mothers, to our daughters, or to any woman? When.

The room was spinning. My eyes fluttered as I attempted to open them. I tried to figure out how I had gotten on the floor. It felt as though I had just been on a wild roller coaster ride. My head was throbbing, and I couldn’t remember anything. Could this be a hangover? That would explain the bed spins. Flashes of light and his face began running through my head. I took a deep breath and held perfectly still.

* * *

We had gone to the supermarket that morning to pick up a few things. It was the end of the week, and his mom had asked us to pick up the basics. Mike playfully began searching through the apples, pulling one from the bottom so they all rolled down. I laughed loudly as I tried to catch the dropping apples. He grabbed me around the waist and let two or three apples fall. “I love you.” I smiled up at him and gently kissed the creases of his eyes.

“Hi, Tanya.” I moved myself out of Mike’s embrace to look squarely at the young man who had said my name. I knew the face very well. He had been one of my best friends in high school, one of the many friends I had given up for Mike. I half-smiled and choked on my hello. That’s when I felt Mike’s body step closer to mine. I knew without turning exactly the expression he was wearing. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Brian.” I spun around, grabbed the basket off the floor, and, dropping the one apple I still clung to into the basket, I took Mike’s hand. “Wait up,” Brian called, but we were already turning into the next aisle.

At the checkout counter, I knew it was too late. I started to unload the groceries and began to ask Mike if he wanted to get a movie. I was harshly interrupted. “I’ll meet you in the truck.” Mike left. I hoped my instant panic was not obvious to the clerk or the other customers. Appearances had to be kept up. His mother worked at this store. Desperately, I tried to delay the checker with questions about product prices and whether there were any sales. I began reading a label and asked an older woman in line behind me what “carrageenan” was. The woman shrugged and patted my shoulder. I wanted to reach out and fall sobbing into this woman’s arms. I wanted to tell her about all of my pain. I wanted this woman to tell me that it was okay to leave. Sadly, I smiled and looked away. She was a stranger in a supermarket, not a priest in a confessional.

I paid the clerk and began walking toward the firing squad. I put the groceries in the back and climbed in beside him. I tried to give him a kiss, but he just pushed my head away.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, the questions and accusations began to knock me against the door. “Who was he?” “Why did you talk to him?” “Was he your old boyfriend?” “You whore!” I tried to answer Mike and explain that Brian was just an old friend. As usual, he wasn’t really interested in my answers; he would rather make up his own.

We pulled into the driveway at home, and I tried once again to kiss him. Mike pushed me away even harder. I was relieved. He had promised he wouldn’t hit me anymore, and technically a push was not a hit.

I thought back to all the broken promises of the past. Why did I continue to believe him? I was not ignorant; I knew how it worked. Something trivial, like this, would happen. He would get pissed off. Then, WHAM, I would get hit. And, of course, right after would follow the period of being ignored. Then the “I love you’s.” And the promises of change would consume us. And we would experience a brief period of perfection. Total bliss and euphoria. Until something else happened, and it would all begin again. And again. And again.

I carried the groceries inside and methodically began putting them away. I took the last item out of the bag—it was the apple I had absent-mindedly chosen. Fondling the apple in my hand, I noticed one side was bruised and rotten. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?” I mumbled despondently. I looked up from the apple, and his eyes caught mine, staying fixed upon me as he descended down the stairs into the game room.

I began to hyperventilate.

“Please no, not again, God make this stop.”

Piercing the silence of the room, Mike bellowed,

“Get your ass in here!”

I paused only briefly before running out the back door. I ran across the yard and was halfway over the fence when I stopped. It was pointless to run. I came down from the fence. I bent over and grabbed my knees; my breath came in large gulps. “Breathe slowly; calm down.” My eyes began scanning my surroundings. I couldn’t recall being here before. I drifted back toward the house in a haze.

As I entered the back door, I could hear Mike screaming for me to “hurry up.” I paused for a drink of water. I thought back to our first date. We were sitting next to the river. He reached over and put his hand on my cheek, “I love you.” I should have known right then that he was nuts. How could you love somebody you had just met? But instead, I thought of my own loneliness and I let him love me.

I crept toward the room, cautiously positioning myself at the top of the stairs. I inhaled deeply as I stepped through the entryway. Mike charged at me with his fists clenched. I cowered. He smiled. My fear was his pleasure and his power. I was watching his arms. His fists. His face. I was flinching with his every move. And that’s when he got me. Mike’s head came flying down and smashed into mine. I crumpled to the floor and immediately passed out.

* * *

I remained motionless for only a moment longer. I strained to stop my eyes from fluttering. There was something in them. Blood. I sat up quickly, making the room rock back and forth from the effort. I used my shirt to wipe the blood from my eyes. I finally got my eyes open and gazed up at Mike; he was looming over me. And he was pointing a gun at my head.

My brain froze.

I started crying. With every sob, my body heaved in pain. I felt tears and blood running down my throat, choking me. I turned my head slightly and looked up. Without a word, I pleaded into the barrel of the gun.

His face broke, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. In an instant, the gun was in his mouth. I could hear the hollow sound of metal clanking against his teeth. All of my pain was suddenly gone; only the blinding rush of adrenaline was left. I sprang to my feet. “I’m okay. It didn’t hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong. No one will ever know.” I pleaded with him, repeating my vow over and over again.

He set down the gun and, like a light switch, turned off. He walked over to the couch, turned on his video game, and began to play.

I stood there trembling.

“Go get cleaned up, you look like hell.”