7 Days of Gratitude, Day Three
1.) for hunger & the ability to fill my belly with good food & the availability of choices that I have
2.) for my financial process & steps towards independence & wealth
3.) for finding people, randomly & otherwise, who believe in me & tell me in so many ways to keep trying & following my dreams
4.) for divine appointments
5.) for Tansy, who is sometimes sweet because she wants my food & is sometimes sweet because she just is
6.) for classic movie stars, like Lauren Bacall, who defined Hollywood as a place of true acting as an art & as a place of ethics (not true anymore) who, in a sense, did it because they love it & we all seem to hold onto, pine for that era today
7.) for the slight randomness of meeting a Hollywood producer & LA actor on a street corner in Ashland at 11:00 at night, sitting on the sidewalk, doing cement yoga, talking about black Virgin Marys, the pope, Italian food which caused my mouth to water & my tummy to rumble, & a crazy cult leader from the 1970s who lived in Oregon
8.) for old memories that are good even when later on those relationships went sour & for a new life with new memories shared & made
9.) for inside jokes
10.) for the donkey who got fed yesterday
11.) for all the old crushes & lovers who "got away"
12.) for Eckhart Tolle & more importantly for the new ways I am starting to understand the divine (which isn't really new) & for the healing its bringing to my soul & heart
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
7 Days of Gratitude, Day Two
7 Days of Gratitude, Day Two
1.) the sunlight streaming through the stairway window with the bugs illuminated by the the light. I always have liked that. Its kind of beautiful, in a way. Nature in one of its finest forms, simply glory revealed.
2.) morning coffee
3.) being woken up by Leo wanting breakfast & receiving snuggles
4.) Michael's sense of humor, having a lover & partner that I can infinitely trust, waking up next to him, & especially morning snuggles
5.) getting stuff done, productivity, in general, which includes all aspects of my creativity, including but not limited to my singing, my writing, my acting, even my garden
6.) Michael at his computer, he looks so cute & it is an image I have become accustomed to
7.) the curiosity of Tansy, its refreshing & not in the least bit entertaining but also is a visible lesson of my need to be awakened each moment to the divine consciousness within and without; to be curious, alive, & fully present
8.) for techies
9.) for my friends & the gifts they offer to the world & universe at large
10.) for finally discovering my true calling, my inner purpose & thus myself, finding true peace & happiness & finally being comfortable with myself
11.) for this day & the expectations it may bring, both good & bad, just the thought of that reality of what may be will be a sign of being fully alive
12.) for Robin Williams & his "spectaculour life" he led, what he taught us about sharing that with the world but not succumbing to our own darkness
1.) the sunlight streaming through the stairway window with the bugs illuminated by the the light. I always have liked that. Its kind of beautiful, in a way. Nature in one of its finest forms, simply glory revealed.
2.) morning coffee
3.) being woken up by Leo wanting breakfast & receiving snuggles
4.) Michael's sense of humor, having a lover & partner that I can infinitely trust, waking up next to him, & especially morning snuggles
5.) getting stuff done, productivity, in general, which includes all aspects of my creativity, including but not limited to my singing, my writing, my acting, even my garden
6.) Michael at his computer, he looks so cute & it is an image I have become accustomed to
7.) the curiosity of Tansy, its refreshing & not in the least bit entertaining but also is a visible lesson of my need to be awakened each moment to the divine consciousness within and without; to be curious, alive, & fully present
8.) for techies
9.) for my friends & the gifts they offer to the world & universe at large
10.) for finally discovering my true calling, my inner purpose & thus myself, finding true peace & happiness & finally being comfortable with myself
11.) for this day & the expectations it may bring, both good & bad, just the thought of that reality of what may be will be a sign of being fully alive
12.) for Robin Williams & his "spectaculour life" he led, what he taught us about sharing that with the world but not succumbing to our own darkness
Sunday, August 17, 2014
7 Days of Gratitude
Of recent days, I've been feeling a little bit of a slump, depression is the clinical word. Whether this has to be with being overly tired from a busy week of "movie-making" or the passing of Robin Williams or even both, doesn't matter. What came to mind as a possible solution (one of many) was to start writing a daily gratitude list in my journal, which then brought about the thought that maybe I should share this thankfulness for the next seven days on this 'here' blog. Instead of or in addition to posting about my ideas on acting, character bios, my times in the "cult", or other aspects of past abuse, or occasionally a plug on "gluten-free eats" (which this blog is somewhat about but not entirely), I decided to put the focus on the gratitude aspect, using the #12 as a limit because, well, as of next Saturday there will be officially twelve doctors so, well, that makes sense to me.
So, without further ado, here goes:
1.) the purple pen I use is epic to write with and indeed makes everything more colorful.
2.) the word "epic"
3.) my ability to write on different levels, ie sexual exploration, Doctor Who fan fiction, spiritual seekings of all varieties, and, of course, my labor of love
4.) the fact that my current partner gives me the time & space I need to create is an act of love from him and I let him have the time to play his cheesy games is an act of love from me
5.) the fact that I don't "have" to clean the kitchen, that I am not a "house-wife" but get to clean the kitchen and make things look nice or rather clean and organized
6.) the thought that I am going to make zucchini bread this week & that I almost referred to it as "bikini bread"
7.) my friends, all of them. the real ones. When they are happy & healthy, especially.
8.) for days off
9.) the fact that I am becoming financially independent & secure
10.) My nieces, especially. Always.
11.) My cats, Leo & Tansy. And good books
12.) For the Doctor, of course.
Friday, July 25, 2014
Awakening my Inner Bad-Girl: All About Babs
On the record of me at the local police station, it begins with:
Babs Babcock, 16, teenage runaway...
But that doesn't really explain much, does it? I mean, it really doesn't give any circumstantial details, like why I'm a 'runaway', or any of the other interesting facts about my life and why I am where I am today, the choices I have made.
To start with, my father was pretty much absent, basically took off from my mom's and my life when I was, like, 11. My mother, well, she's a bag of tricks, is she ever. An alcoholic, in her right, to beat out all other alcoholic, dead-beat parents ever. Sometimes, if she's nice, she shares her drinks with me but that's only when the night is good, she's feeling fine, the gambling was successful, the guy forked over the money. Because, you see, as we never have enough money, my mom finds other ways to keep the house and regular expenses afloat and even more so keep her expensive habits active. Basically, her own brand of legal "prostitution" of herself. No matter, I think she enjoys it, which is admirable and probably the one greatest lesson in life she has taught me. Sex, no matter what the situation, can be enjoyable and, in the end, employable. It can bring great gain, I tell you, she has shown me and I have seen from personal experience.
On a whim, because of this, I left home at 14, headed down to, what is affectionately called "Psycho Beach". In order to survive, I have learned to hustle, myself and others, in an ongoing pursuit for survival and success, mainly using my body as a means of financial gain, as it were. And, hey, I really do enjoy it. Its 'nice work if you can get it', let me tell you.
I first met Roxy after I found myself homeless when a guy I shacked with randomly kicked me out, for reasons unknown to me. The Steel Kahuna, they call him, and I was immediately enthralled and obsessed with him at first sight, so that power went to his head and he took me into his bed. Our relationship had to be secret being that I was 14 and he was, well, older. Perhaps, the fact that the police started snooping around our place had something to do with him just up and kicking me out. No matter, I found Roxy. Roxy taught me "the ways of the street". For the first couple of years, I idolized and looked up to her, mimicked her in every way; clothes, hair, ways of talking. But, recently I have been finding some form of confidence in my life-style choices and abilities and now I kind of sort of want to break away, branch off on my own. Maybe, its because I found "Lips", my little minion, someone I can lord power over, at last, and boss around. Lips isn't the smartest but she needs me, how else would she survive let alone have fun, so in that she is faithful. In a sense, she is the sister I never had, and even, not sure I ever wanted. But, there you have it.
I have known the rest of these Psycho Beach people since I was young, since middle school. We all went to the same school, well until I dropped out.
Victoria is a girl I used to make do my home-work and copy off her in tests. I think, at one point, she had a secret crush on me and in exchange for her helping me, I let her go down on me. Once. Only once.
Mary-lou is the popular girl in school and she and I used to be best friends in middle school. We both had a mad crush on Ricky and even at one point Bip, wow, can't imagine why? I started to have some trouble at home, hooked up with The Kahuna, and we just slipped apart. I'm a little jealous of her because of Ricky, my dream-guy and well, actually, my biggest quest for life. Also, he plays a huge part in my secret fantasies, you know, to dominate him and make him mine, all mine, ooh, yeah baby!
The Gerk is just this annoying local guy who thinks he's super hot and smart but isn't. Awhile ago he tried to hook up with me, basically, he kissed me but it was all slobbery tongue so I never let him go any further. I think he still wants me though, which has its benefits, I assure you.
So, that's my life, in a nutshell. You'll have to stay-tuned for more details. I do have a plan that when I die, I'm going to come back as a ghost, walk through walls, and basically scare the shit out of other people.
Babs Babcock is a character from an upcoming film written and directed by Dan McCloy, to be shot locally in Oregon.
https://www.facebook.com/beachblanketfrankenstein/info
Babs Babcock, 16, teenage runaway...
But that doesn't really explain much, does it? I mean, it really doesn't give any circumstantial details, like why I'm a 'runaway', or any of the other interesting facts about my life and why I am where I am today, the choices I have made.
To start with, my father was pretty much absent, basically took off from my mom's and my life when I was, like, 11. My mother, well, she's a bag of tricks, is she ever. An alcoholic, in her right, to beat out all other alcoholic, dead-beat parents ever. Sometimes, if she's nice, she shares her drinks with me but that's only when the night is good, she's feeling fine, the gambling was successful, the guy forked over the money. Because, you see, as we never have enough money, my mom finds other ways to keep the house and regular expenses afloat and even more so keep her expensive habits active. Basically, her own brand of legal "prostitution" of herself. No matter, I think she enjoys it, which is admirable and probably the one greatest lesson in life she has taught me. Sex, no matter what the situation, can be enjoyable and, in the end, employable. It can bring great gain, I tell you, she has shown me and I have seen from personal experience.
On a whim, because of this, I left home at 14, headed down to, what is affectionately called "Psycho Beach". In order to survive, I have learned to hustle, myself and others, in an ongoing pursuit for survival and success, mainly using my body as a means of financial gain, as it were. And, hey, I really do enjoy it. Its 'nice work if you can get it', let me tell you.
I first met Roxy after I found myself homeless when a guy I shacked with randomly kicked me out, for reasons unknown to me. The Steel Kahuna, they call him, and I was immediately enthralled and obsessed with him at first sight, so that power went to his head and he took me into his bed. Our relationship had to be secret being that I was 14 and he was, well, older. Perhaps, the fact that the police started snooping around our place had something to do with him just up and kicking me out. No matter, I found Roxy. Roxy taught me "the ways of the street". For the first couple of years, I idolized and looked up to her, mimicked her in every way; clothes, hair, ways of talking. But, recently I have been finding some form of confidence in my life-style choices and abilities and now I kind of sort of want to break away, branch off on my own. Maybe, its because I found "Lips", my little minion, someone I can lord power over, at last, and boss around. Lips isn't the smartest but she needs me, how else would she survive let alone have fun, so in that she is faithful. In a sense, she is the sister I never had, and even, not sure I ever wanted. But, there you have it.
I have known the rest of these Psycho Beach people since I was young, since middle school. We all went to the same school, well until I dropped out.
Victoria is a girl I used to make do my home-work and copy off her in tests. I think, at one point, she had a secret crush on me and in exchange for her helping me, I let her go down on me. Once. Only once.
Mary-lou is the popular girl in school and she and I used to be best friends in middle school. We both had a mad crush on Ricky and even at one point Bip, wow, can't imagine why? I started to have some trouble at home, hooked up with The Kahuna, and we just slipped apart. I'm a little jealous of her because of Ricky, my dream-guy and well, actually, my biggest quest for life. Also, he plays a huge part in my secret fantasies, you know, to dominate him and make him mine, all mine, ooh, yeah baby!
The Gerk is just this annoying local guy who thinks he's super hot and smart but isn't. Awhile ago he tried to hook up with me, basically, he kissed me but it was all slobbery tongue so I never let him go any further. I think he still wants me though, which has its benefits, I assure you.
So, that's my life, in a nutshell. You'll have to stay-tuned for more details. I do have a plan that when I die, I'm going to come back as a ghost, walk through walls, and basically scare the shit out of other people.
Babs Babcock is a character from an upcoming film written and directed by Dan McCloy, to be shot locally in Oregon.
https://www.facebook.com/beachblanketfrankenstein/info
Monday, July 14, 2014
Don't worry, I'm a "professional'
Which doesn't altogether mean I know what I am doing, right? Well, in some ways I did except for my 9 kids and actually raising them, well, I know how to get money for them and for me, more importantly, so at least I've got that, right?
Hi, I'm Leah.
I'll be 32 in one week. Had my first kid at 21, to be honest, the first AND second were "accidents", but even so, I really wanted the dads to stick around, you know, the happily ever after, white picket fences and all of that...but, like most men, all they really wanted to do was "stick me" and then leave...which really did suck, I'm not going to lie, but then when the third came along and the guy once again hit the door...I thought, why not join in on the fun and play their game, meaning, "stick them" where it hurts, if you catch my drift...
That's when I discovered the magic of child support and that I could make a business out of "popping out" kids. So, that's when I became the "professional mother" as some say. I mean, hey, all I have ever really been good at is laying flat on my back with my legs in the air and...can I help it that I'm so fertile? If you wanna play, boys, you gotta pay...
I mean, I gotta get something out of this too, right?
I mean, its like this. I always wanted to be a lawyer, like my daddy, but then the kids came along. So, all in all, I'm saying is I can be very convincing...if I'm going to pop them out, why not use my head to and find a way to get the finer things in life?
Poor woe is me single mama and all of that!
I started the professional mom gig with my second daughter, Laycee, and then it was easy to get the previous dads to comply, and, you know, being raised with wealth, I really know how to make my money work for me. Guess you can say, I know how to get the most bang for my buck!
Hi, I'm Leah.
I'll be 32 in one week. Had my first kid at 21, to be honest, the first AND second were "accidents", but even so, I really wanted the dads to stick around, you know, the happily ever after, white picket fences and all of that...but, like most men, all they really wanted to do was "stick me" and then leave...which really did suck, I'm not going to lie, but then when the third came along and the guy once again hit the door...I thought, why not join in on the fun and play their game, meaning, "stick them" where it hurts, if you catch my drift...
That's when I discovered the magic of child support and that I could make a business out of "popping out" kids. So, that's when I became the "professional mother" as some say. I mean, hey, all I have ever really been good at is laying flat on my back with my legs in the air and...can I help it that I'm so fertile? If you wanna play, boys, you gotta pay...
I mean, I gotta get something out of this too, right?
I mean, its like this. I always wanted to be a lawyer, like my daddy, but then the kids came along. So, all in all, I'm saying is I can be very convincing...if I'm going to pop them out, why not use my head to and find a way to get the finer things in life?
Poor woe is me single mama and all of that!
I started the professional mom gig with my second daughter, Laycee, and then it was easy to get the previous dads to comply, and, you know, being raised with wealth, I really know how to make my money work for me. Guess you can say, I know how to get the most bang for my buck!
Sunday, June 15, 2014
My Story, My Words, At Last.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CTTjLxXFg0k
How should I begin, but to truthfully say that I hold no regrets in any part of my past mistakes, both the good and the bad, and more so, I mean no ill-will to anyone who ever caused me harm. For in the end, it helped shape me to who I am today, in a very real sense, what didn't kill me, made me stronger.
To start with, I must say, without placing blame that my childhood was troubled and wrought with some intense personal difficulties.. For whatever reason, both internal and external, I was always afraid to show my true inner feelings, out of fear of not being loved or accepted for who I really was. Because of this, I spent all of my life bottling up my true feelings and identity, putting on a happy face, with the pain and anguish dwelling inside, at times bubbling to the surface only to be then punished for it.
In my awkward adolescent and teen years, I rebelled from my father's authoritative reign by trying the world of drugs and alcohol. This escape proved to be futile in hiding from my deep, dark pain just waiting to get out. So, then, at the tender age of 15, I began having feelings of depression with suicidal tendencies. My parents briefly sought help and I was put on this new wonder drug, Prozac, to help squelch any negative UNWANTED emotions. (However, in subsequent years, I have apologized to my parents for this, they have forgiven me as I have forgiven them.)
During my teen years, I was exposed to certain biblical scriptures that spoke of a true, unconditional love. I knew I wanted that, whether from a man or a woman or from some other source. I wholeheartedly believe that there are no accidents in life thus I can look back and see several guideposts leading me to my life in the Calvary World. In college, my boyfriend dragged me to a Calvary Chapel in our town where I got 'saved', believing that at last I had found the absolute love and acceptance I had been seeking my whole life long. For the most part, I look back at my time in the Oregon Calvary with utmost gratitude and fondness. Those friends of mine truly represented the love and grace spoken by Jesus and tried to be authentic in their path he laid out. It is for them that I have mostly stayed silent, out of shame for myself and for a need for their protection. But now I can see that they would want to hear my story and like me would want the telling of it to help those who suffered or are suffering in a like fashion.
Things were different in the California Calvary than in Oregon, but not, seemingly, at first. The indoctrination was gradual as up to that point my experience had been positive I only wished to see that world with rose-lined glasses.
However, the first aspect that didn't sit well with me is that we were strongly encouraged, or mandated, to attend services 7 days a week, on top of work, school, and other responsibilities in life, as well as take on as many ministries as possible all with a huge smile plastered on our faces, despite the overwhelming amount of stress that was building from such a heavy burden.
Another thing that was different from my OR experience was the lack of self and creative expression (we were told that "feelings were bad and not trustworthy, for example), and thus lost one's sense of own identity. We were strongly dictated to lose ourselves for the good of the whole, to be like-minded and one with the group. For a girl who had never had close ties with my own family, having this new "family" was somewhat refreshing. But at what expense? I recall one Thanksgiving the Pastor and his family invited all the church over to his house for the holiday. When he invited me, I apologized that I couldn't and explained that lots of extended family were coming in from out of town. He responded by unsuccessfully hiding his disappointment in me. (There were other girls who experienced similar situations, where it was impressed upon them that their "blood" family was no longer their real family because they weren't "saved", that their family now was in the church.)
The literal explanation of the Bible is, I feel, becoming a form of abuse among the Calvary pastors and their associates. I highly respect the text and see it as a valid "love letter." I have come to see it as more metaphorical and a good use for individual spiritual growth. I see Calvary's literal usage as becoming that of a weapon.
A year after I successfully left, I flipped on a Calvary radio station to listen to a pre-recorded Bible Study, the same I had so loved to listen to in previous years. It had been awhile thus my mind had begun the process of being deprogrammed. The first thing I realized was that the pastor used more of his personal beliefs than staying true to the scriptures, as they firmly state they do. The next thing I realized is the usage of circular reasoning, rather speaking in segments of three, to get his viewpoint across, or rather a process of shaming. For something unrelated to my life, I began to feel shame by his use of this technique. I turned off the radio and immediately it hit me; this is mind-control. Remembering past services I attended, I would often leave not remembering much for what was taught, but feeling "positive". Yet the next day I could spout of word for word the Pastor's points without really knowing the biblical text. It is as if at a Calvary service the parishioners are taken into a trance through the repetitive worship music and then taken through a process of indoctrination that without any outside perspective becomes hard to refute.
Several other strange viewpoints come to mind. Such as college or further education outside the church was strongly not recommended and even looked down upon as non-spiritual. In addition, from the pulpit, the Pastor would list, on numerous occasions, the various cults, even going so far as to call, like-minded conservative churches, as being wrong and "un-biblical". Furthermore, while "fellowshipping" with these other churches, they were all smiles and acceptance but back in their own "building", the true bad-mouthing came out. Unlike my experience in OR where we Calvary Chapelites often broke bread with other denominations, interfaith to California Calvarys meant other Calvarys. More and more, I started to see this as false and started to see the underlying message that Calvary is the "one true church", the only one that is biblically accurate, and thus the only one that is right. In addition, Pastors and other associates strongly advised the reading of only the Bible or books by Calvary authors or approved by them only. Other books, even classics like Dickens or Shakespeare, were highly not recommended. The arts, such as theatre and psychology, were seen as dark forces and demonic. Yoga and meditation were seen as ways for the devil to gain a stronghold.
Furthermore, we were taught that there is no good in us, no value apart from God, no telling right from wrong, and that our feelings, if not positive, were an attack from the devil. We were also told that if any time was spent out of church services or bible studies we would be caught unawares, fall into devastating sin unable to resist, and our lives would become completely miserable, lonely, and unfruitful. In short, God could not bless such blatant lack of obedience and rebellion. I have since learned this to be greatly untrue.
Furthermore, we were instructed to give financially "until it hurts" and that God would bless us for it. I never thought too much about this, until recent, but honestly I did give quite a lot more money to the church than what I brought in or felt bad when I couldn't, and never saw the fruit from it in myself. The church, however, became prettier and prettier, not just the lights stayed on, but the furniture got nicer, the buildings were remodeled with all the latest technology, on and on. Were the poor ever fed? Not sure. But, we had cool Christian concerts and coffee shops!
Due to all of this, I lost my sense of self-worth and my ability to make decisions without fear of making a mistake. I was constantly praying feverishly "help me with this, God," or "help me with that, God", or endlessly asking God's Will without answer, afraid to take a step of faith in fear. I would ask for advice on this from the pastors and get vague answers or direction, sometimes I would be shamed for my lack of faith. Then, back into confusion I would spiral. In addition to this, I was constantly pointing fingers, and having them pointed back at me, in judgment of others lack of spirituality. An in-built competitiveness to out-spiritualize the other was rampant among the Calvary parishioners.
Lastly, before I go into my personal story, there was an element of sexual discrimination. Women were the weaker vessel and thus unable to make sound decisions without the guidance of men. On top of all of that, we were told to cover up completely, to the point of almost wearing a burka, lest we tempt the men. It was then our fault if they fell into lustful sin. For me, a well-endowed, curvaceous women who wearing any form of clothes becomes somewhat revealing, I was seen as a tempestuous vixen if ever I approached a man to even just say hi. This left me with a feeling of shame over my body, which later contributed to my bout with anorexia and poor body image.
So, finally I come to my story of personal, spiritual and pastoral abuse. A terminology only just introduced to me on a website speaking on similar matters a few months back. I have mentioned my past history with depression. The stress of being overly worked by the church plus my outside life led to a mental breakdown causing outbursts of rage and left me with a diagnosis of bipolar. I do not blame any of my Calvary friends for this rage and recognize a great deal of them were victims. However, I now see that the stress of all that was in my life, the years of pent-up emotion and abuse, and the effects of a gluten diet caused this anger eruption. (After years of intensive recovery, I have finally forgiven myself for this.)
During this time, my pastor dutifully started ministering to me one on one. At one point during a tremendous breakdown, after my boyfriend had broken up with me as well as the death of my favorite grandpa, while sobbing hysterically in his office, tears flowing finally years of repression coming out, and without the ability to speak through the pain, I went to him for prayer or counsel of some sort. In that solitary session only between us, he said some rather disturbing and untrue things. First, it was declaring that my tears were "phony" and "fake" and ploys of sympathy through manipulation. Too upset was I to speak up so didn't. Then, he said, "I have had other women who I have ministered to fall in love with me." This was the most shockingly surprising statement and due to that I was unable to contradict. After that, I actually wondered if I did have feelings for him, finding none.
The next week I pulled an abusive prank myself, part vengeance, that ended up in my being banned from the church ( a blessing in disguise). It hit home and I began the slow process towards recovery. Few years later, I was ready to honestly make my amends with those I had wronged, with no preconceived hopes about being brought back into the fold. I made my official amends with the pastor through a voice-mail message.
After that, he did what I now realize to be mind-games. We'd see each other around town, at Starbucks, for example, and he would be all smiles and laughs, interested in how my recovery was progressing. I wasn't honestly hoping for anything more but was grateful for that restoration. At other times, though, in the off-chance we'd run into each other at another church, for example, he'd show another colder side for reasons explainable to me. At one time telling me that "he can't be my friend right now." I took this to be somehow my fault, though searching my mind for some thing I did, finding none save for what I had repented for years back. I was made to be the manipulator in the relationship, when in effect his push/pull, "come a little closer no go away" proved him to be the manipulative one. He never admitted to this or apologized for it. (I no longer expect it.) Because of feeling like the victimizer, I thought that if I turned to anyone for help I would be manipulating them, so I stopped reaching out for help which left me feeling isolated. I have found that in the case with abusers, finding a way to keep their victims isolated is a method at keeping them under their sway and power.
It took awhile for me to unravel the pain brought on by Calvary, to find healing through the most unlikely of sources, such as United Church of Christ, the Unity Church, other "cult" survivors, and most importantly my theatre family, both Christian and other, who when I shared my story assured me that that wasn't normal, right, or healthy. I think the main reason I stayed so long, 7 years, in Calvary was coming from the background I had, I was used to an authoritative life-style. It was what I was familiar with, albeit unhealthy and codependent, it was safe, in a sense. I think that the main reason I was able to free myself was because of the many mentors and teachers that taught me critical thinking skills and the value of ongoing learning.
I believe that Calvary at its core is basically good and its origins were pure. Its exactly like what my father used to quote to me as a child, "power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely" and I think that is the end result of Calvary. When I read the scriptures now, I ask the spirit to show me the real meaning, not what was forced upon me, in effect a spiritual de-programming. What has been revealed to me, by the Spirit, example is that the text that refers to the Pharisees is what Calvary leadership has begun. Because of this, my experiences, and the definition of a cult below:
"a group or movement is theologically a cult if it identifies itself as belonging to a mainstream, recognized religion — and yet rejects or otherwise violates one or more of the central, essential teachings of that religion."
I now believe that Calvary Chapel is a cult and a strongly advice those who are thinking of attending not to start.
By writing this, I mean no ill-will to anyone, nor is it anyway meant to sound vindictive or angry (that is why names are left out). I can assure all readers that I am not at all angry at what happened any more. As everything in my life, I find value in all my experiences. I still deeply love and appreciate all of the friends I met through Calvary and am grateful for what they taught me, and wish them nothing but happiness and the best that life can offer.
How should I begin, but to truthfully say that I hold no regrets in any part of my past mistakes, both the good and the bad, and more so, I mean no ill-will to anyone who ever caused me harm. For in the end, it helped shape me to who I am today, in a very real sense, what didn't kill me, made me stronger.
To start with, I must say, without placing blame that my childhood was troubled and wrought with some intense personal difficulties.. For whatever reason, both internal and external, I was always afraid to show my true inner feelings, out of fear of not being loved or accepted for who I really was. Because of this, I spent all of my life bottling up my true feelings and identity, putting on a happy face, with the pain and anguish dwelling inside, at times bubbling to the surface only to be then punished for it.
In my awkward adolescent and teen years, I rebelled from my father's authoritative reign by trying the world of drugs and alcohol. This escape proved to be futile in hiding from my deep, dark pain just waiting to get out. So, then, at the tender age of 15, I began having feelings of depression with suicidal tendencies. My parents briefly sought help and I was put on this new wonder drug, Prozac, to help squelch any negative UNWANTED emotions. (However, in subsequent years, I have apologized to my parents for this, they have forgiven me as I have forgiven them.)
During my teen years, I was exposed to certain biblical scriptures that spoke of a true, unconditional love. I knew I wanted that, whether from a man or a woman or from some other source. I wholeheartedly believe that there are no accidents in life thus I can look back and see several guideposts leading me to my life in the Calvary World. In college, my boyfriend dragged me to a Calvary Chapel in our town where I got 'saved', believing that at last I had found the absolute love and acceptance I had been seeking my whole life long. For the most part, I look back at my time in the Oregon Calvary with utmost gratitude and fondness. Those friends of mine truly represented the love and grace spoken by Jesus and tried to be authentic in their path he laid out. It is for them that I have mostly stayed silent, out of shame for myself and for a need for their protection. But now I can see that they would want to hear my story and like me would want the telling of it to help those who suffered or are suffering in a like fashion.
Things were different in the California Calvary than in Oregon, but not, seemingly, at first. The indoctrination was gradual as up to that point my experience had been positive I only wished to see that world with rose-lined glasses.
However, the first aspect that didn't sit well with me is that we were strongly encouraged, or mandated, to attend services 7 days a week, on top of work, school, and other responsibilities in life, as well as take on as many ministries as possible all with a huge smile plastered on our faces, despite the overwhelming amount of stress that was building from such a heavy burden.
Another thing that was different from my OR experience was the lack of self and creative expression (we were told that "feelings were bad and not trustworthy, for example), and thus lost one's sense of own identity. We were strongly dictated to lose ourselves for the good of the whole, to be like-minded and one with the group. For a girl who had never had close ties with my own family, having this new "family" was somewhat refreshing. But at what expense? I recall one Thanksgiving the Pastor and his family invited all the church over to his house for the holiday. When he invited me, I apologized that I couldn't and explained that lots of extended family were coming in from out of town. He responded by unsuccessfully hiding his disappointment in me. (There were other girls who experienced similar situations, where it was impressed upon them that their "blood" family was no longer their real family because they weren't "saved", that their family now was in the church.)
The literal explanation of the Bible is, I feel, becoming a form of abuse among the Calvary pastors and their associates. I highly respect the text and see it as a valid "love letter." I have come to see it as more metaphorical and a good use for individual spiritual growth. I see Calvary's literal usage as becoming that of a weapon.
A year after I successfully left, I flipped on a Calvary radio station to listen to a pre-recorded Bible Study, the same I had so loved to listen to in previous years. It had been awhile thus my mind had begun the process of being deprogrammed. The first thing I realized was that the pastor used more of his personal beliefs than staying true to the scriptures, as they firmly state they do. The next thing I realized is the usage of circular reasoning, rather speaking in segments of three, to get his viewpoint across, or rather a process of shaming. For something unrelated to my life, I began to feel shame by his use of this technique. I turned off the radio and immediately it hit me; this is mind-control. Remembering past services I attended, I would often leave not remembering much for what was taught, but feeling "positive". Yet the next day I could spout of word for word the Pastor's points without really knowing the biblical text. It is as if at a Calvary service the parishioners are taken into a trance through the repetitive worship music and then taken through a process of indoctrination that without any outside perspective becomes hard to refute.
Several other strange viewpoints come to mind. Such as college or further education outside the church was strongly not recommended and even looked down upon as non-spiritual. In addition, from the pulpit, the Pastor would list, on numerous occasions, the various cults, even going so far as to call, like-minded conservative churches, as being wrong and "un-biblical". Furthermore, while "fellowshipping" with these other churches, they were all smiles and acceptance but back in their own "building", the true bad-mouthing came out. Unlike my experience in OR where we Calvary Chapelites often broke bread with other denominations, interfaith to California Calvarys meant other Calvarys. More and more, I started to see this as false and started to see the underlying message that Calvary is the "one true church", the only one that is biblically accurate, and thus the only one that is right. In addition, Pastors and other associates strongly advised the reading of only the Bible or books by Calvary authors or approved by them only. Other books, even classics like Dickens or Shakespeare, were highly not recommended. The arts, such as theatre and psychology, were seen as dark forces and demonic. Yoga and meditation were seen as ways for the devil to gain a stronghold.
Furthermore, we were taught that there is no good in us, no value apart from God, no telling right from wrong, and that our feelings, if not positive, were an attack from the devil. We were also told that if any time was spent out of church services or bible studies we would be caught unawares, fall into devastating sin unable to resist, and our lives would become completely miserable, lonely, and unfruitful. In short, God could not bless such blatant lack of obedience and rebellion. I have since learned this to be greatly untrue.
Furthermore, we were instructed to give financially "until it hurts" and that God would bless us for it. I never thought too much about this, until recent, but honestly I did give quite a lot more money to the church than what I brought in or felt bad when I couldn't, and never saw the fruit from it in myself. The church, however, became prettier and prettier, not just the lights stayed on, but the furniture got nicer, the buildings were remodeled with all the latest technology, on and on. Were the poor ever fed? Not sure. But, we had cool Christian concerts and coffee shops!
Due to all of this, I lost my sense of self-worth and my ability to make decisions without fear of making a mistake. I was constantly praying feverishly "help me with this, God," or "help me with that, God", or endlessly asking God's Will without answer, afraid to take a step of faith in fear. I would ask for advice on this from the pastors and get vague answers or direction, sometimes I would be shamed for my lack of faith. Then, back into confusion I would spiral. In addition to this, I was constantly pointing fingers, and having them pointed back at me, in judgment of others lack of spirituality. An in-built competitiveness to out-spiritualize the other was rampant among the Calvary parishioners.
Lastly, before I go into my personal story, there was an element of sexual discrimination. Women were the weaker vessel and thus unable to make sound decisions without the guidance of men. On top of all of that, we were told to cover up completely, to the point of almost wearing a burka, lest we tempt the men. It was then our fault if they fell into lustful sin. For me, a well-endowed, curvaceous women who wearing any form of clothes becomes somewhat revealing, I was seen as a tempestuous vixen if ever I approached a man to even just say hi. This left me with a feeling of shame over my body, which later contributed to my bout with anorexia and poor body image.
So, finally I come to my story of personal, spiritual and pastoral abuse. A terminology only just introduced to me on a website speaking on similar matters a few months back. I have mentioned my past history with depression. The stress of being overly worked by the church plus my outside life led to a mental breakdown causing outbursts of rage and left me with a diagnosis of bipolar. I do not blame any of my Calvary friends for this rage and recognize a great deal of them were victims. However, I now see that the stress of all that was in my life, the years of pent-up emotion and abuse, and the effects of a gluten diet caused this anger eruption. (After years of intensive recovery, I have finally forgiven myself for this.)
During this time, my pastor dutifully started ministering to me one on one. At one point during a tremendous breakdown, after my boyfriend had broken up with me as well as the death of my favorite grandpa, while sobbing hysterically in his office, tears flowing finally years of repression coming out, and without the ability to speak through the pain, I went to him for prayer or counsel of some sort. In that solitary session only between us, he said some rather disturbing and untrue things. First, it was declaring that my tears were "phony" and "fake" and ploys of sympathy through manipulation. Too upset was I to speak up so didn't. Then, he said, "I have had other women who I have ministered to fall in love with me." This was the most shockingly surprising statement and due to that I was unable to contradict. After that, I actually wondered if I did have feelings for him, finding none.
The next week I pulled an abusive prank myself, part vengeance, that ended up in my being banned from the church ( a blessing in disguise). It hit home and I began the slow process towards recovery. Few years later, I was ready to honestly make my amends with those I had wronged, with no preconceived hopes about being brought back into the fold. I made my official amends with the pastor through a voice-mail message.
After that, he did what I now realize to be mind-games. We'd see each other around town, at Starbucks, for example, and he would be all smiles and laughs, interested in how my recovery was progressing. I wasn't honestly hoping for anything more but was grateful for that restoration. At other times, though, in the off-chance we'd run into each other at another church, for example, he'd show another colder side for reasons explainable to me. At one time telling me that "he can't be my friend right now." I took this to be somehow my fault, though searching my mind for some thing I did, finding none save for what I had repented for years back. I was made to be the manipulator in the relationship, when in effect his push/pull, "come a little closer no go away" proved him to be the manipulative one. He never admitted to this or apologized for it. (I no longer expect it.) Because of feeling like the victimizer, I thought that if I turned to anyone for help I would be manipulating them, so I stopped reaching out for help which left me feeling isolated. I have found that in the case with abusers, finding a way to keep their victims isolated is a method at keeping them under their sway and power.
It took awhile for me to unravel the pain brought on by Calvary, to find healing through the most unlikely of sources, such as United Church of Christ, the Unity Church, other "cult" survivors, and most importantly my theatre family, both Christian and other, who when I shared my story assured me that that wasn't normal, right, or healthy. I think the main reason I stayed so long, 7 years, in Calvary was coming from the background I had, I was used to an authoritative life-style. It was what I was familiar with, albeit unhealthy and codependent, it was safe, in a sense. I think that the main reason I was able to free myself was because of the many mentors and teachers that taught me critical thinking skills and the value of ongoing learning.
I believe that Calvary at its core is basically good and its origins were pure. Its exactly like what my father used to quote to me as a child, "power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely" and I think that is the end result of Calvary. When I read the scriptures now, I ask the spirit to show me the real meaning, not what was forced upon me, in effect a spiritual de-programming. What has been revealed to me, by the Spirit, example is that the text that refers to the Pharisees is what Calvary leadership has begun. Because of this, my experiences, and the definition of a cult below:
"a group or movement is theologically a cult if it identifies itself as belonging to a mainstream, recognized religion — and yet rejects or otherwise violates one or more of the central, essential teachings of that religion."
I now believe that Calvary Chapel is a cult and a strongly advice those who are thinking of attending not to start.
By writing this, I mean no ill-will to anyone, nor is it anyway meant to sound vindictive or angry (that is why names are left out). I can assure all readers that I am not at all angry at what happened any more. As everything in my life, I find value in all my experiences. I still deeply love and appreciate all of the friends I met through Calvary and am grateful for what they taught me, and wish them nothing but happiness and the best that life can offer.
I am deeply grateful for my dear family and friends who stood patiently by through the mad "cult" years and after leaving still are right with me, despite my crazed "Christianese" ramblings during those years. Their love and forgiveness and laughter has what helped me heal, become whole, and truly be the person I was meant to be. Thank you!
I also hope that my story, my words helps others that are suffering inside Calvary or have recently left. Above all, know you are not alone and that are others who are just like you, trying to make sense of a crazy experience. I now know that I do not need to "save" anyone or "help them" out of this crazy situation, nor can I, but I do know one thing about the abuse I, and others, have experienced at Calvary Chapel, and that is that the light will overwhelm the darkness and all will be revealed in time.
This is my story in my words. Some may not agree but I have only tried to be truthful, gracious, and restrain from any judgment to the best of my ability. That's all I can ever do.
About Calvary and my "cult" years, I say, in the words of Dorothy Gale: (changed a bit)
"I remember most of it wasn't very nice at all, but some of it was beautiful, but all the same, all I kept wanting was to be free...and than I found my freedom."
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Working It Out---Facing Your Inner Demons Through Drama
I've been thinking abut this notion of method acting versus representational acting and the very fact is that I was trained in method acting. Furthermore, it was easy for my teachers, mentors, method actors themselves, to train me in that fashion because I was already that time of person, one with emotional depth and transparency, an in-built method actress, as it were. I'm not afraid to go to those scary places and in reality in need of using them, on the stage or in character-type work.
I understand the representational style of actors who do not see the point of 'dredging up the past' and do not disparage them their "method". I can see their point about it being seemingly dangerous to rely on past psychological trauma, or what it may be.
But, in truth, for me, after years of intensive therapy and recovery, I am not afraid to examine the scary, painful parts of myself, and apply it to the character already present in the text. Once I find those useful, self-resources, not only does it become a sense of self-discovery as I bring the "pain" or "issue", to physicality and "work it out through fear and trembling". And, in that "working out", the issue becomes null and void, I find healing, freedom, and true salvation. (Philippians 2:13)
This weekend I make my debut as a dancer at the Oak Street Studio's presentation of "Moment in Time". I play a "demon" and get to wear a fun and not to scary African mask. At first, I was focused more on the dance, however be it, mostly improvisational. But, this week, my director, Roz Schrodt, started asking us to really define our characters.
Thinking of the idea of "living truthfully in the imaginary circumstances" and while spending time with my altar-ego, ie my mask, I discovered emotions primal welling up of me, those of rage and angry determination. Through the aspect of physically dancing the character, my she-coyote became sexual in her quest for power, hiding her feelings of rage and fear.
Oak Street Studio presents "Moment in Time" this weekend, Saturday, June 14th at 8 pm and Sunday, June 15th at 2:00. Tickets are ten dollars in advance or twelve dollars at the door. Rosalind Schrodt is a local dancer and instructor in Ashland, OR.
https://www.facebook.com/events/698513416932452/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming
I understand the representational style of actors who do not see the point of 'dredging up the past' and do not disparage them their "method". I can see their point about it being seemingly dangerous to rely on past psychological trauma, or what it may be.
But, in truth, for me, after years of intensive therapy and recovery, I am not afraid to examine the scary, painful parts of myself, and apply it to the character already present in the text. Once I find those useful, self-resources, not only does it become a sense of self-discovery as I bring the "pain" or "issue", to physicality and "work it out through fear and trembling". And, in that "working out", the issue becomes null and void, I find healing, freedom, and true salvation. (Philippians 2:13)
This weekend I make my debut as a dancer at the Oak Street Studio's presentation of "Moment in Time". I play a "demon" and get to wear a fun and not to scary African mask. At first, I was focused more on the dance, however be it, mostly improvisational. But, this week, my director, Roz Schrodt, started asking us to really define our characters.
Thinking of the idea of "living truthfully in the imaginary circumstances" and while spending time with my altar-ego, ie my mask, I discovered emotions primal welling up of me, those of rage and angry determination. Through the aspect of physically dancing the character, my she-coyote became sexual in her quest for power, hiding her feelings of rage and fear.
Oak Street Studio presents "Moment in Time" this weekend, Saturday, June 14th at 8 pm and Sunday, June 15th at 2:00. Tickets are ten dollars in advance or twelve dollars at the door. Rosalind Schrodt is a local dancer and instructor in Ashland, OR.
https://www.facebook.com/events/698513416932452/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming
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