widening circles, endless ripples.

before i wander on to other things, i must recommend two books: the first is The Shack by William Young, published by Windblown Media. If you haven't read it, buy two and read one. you're sure to think of another person who'd really benefit by reading this, whether casually (like a person not in crisis) or seriously (already dealing wtih a load of puckey and not knowing what to think about it all). I can't say more, because i don't want to give the story away, but if you've ever wanted to ask God "WHY?!?!" about your life, your pain, your very existence, read it. Just great.
The other recommendation comes from another point completely, written by a Harvard-trained PhD named Annie Rogers. the title is The Unsayable and if you have ever been abused, dealt with a person who's been abused (especially if that person doesn't seem to be able to move beyond victim status to gain tools with which to deal with the pain), you'll find this book fascinating. Another book that really cannot be described so much as experienced. It's a refreshing take on another way to hear and connect with people whose consciously-told stories of abuse become part of a larger pattern of repeats (verbal, behavioral, addictive) , people for whom there seems no way to get out of the spin cycle. I'm not sure that just anybody could pick up the book and be able to really grasp the techniques, but just to digest the idea that there may be a completely different way to hear, to connect, to help a person hear herself speaking things of which she is unaware, to help her connect those things to the reality of what she's suffered, letting her lead herself into realizations, understandings, that can give her what she needs to deal with what her unconscious has been throwing out all the time but has been ignored in most kinds of therapeutic models. it's just amazing.

ahem. on to other things. (clearly, i must have been a kid who enjoyed doing book reports.)

january ended with aa train trip to avila beach, the tiny town that was built on superfund cleanup and and is now working to make itself an up and coming tourist town. the oceanfront room was extra fascinating, since we had more contact with water coming horizontally through the slider due to high winds blowing the rainstorms at us than we did in the actual ocean! it was very quiet and relaxing, except for the battening down and mopping up.

this week of february 3-7 was spent in Denver, enjoying the old/new/redeveloped city in its wintry, blustery glory. Got to see one of the rescue missions where heather's dad tom was a child who spent much of his childhood, he said, "singing 'What a Friend We Have in Jesus' to a bunch of snoring drunks." Tom left that life to which his parents subjected him, but even in New York, even with a new wife, you have to wonder whether you can ever extract such things from your gut.
Certainly for the Denver Rescue Mission, the 'outside guests' have not changed much in fifty years, but there are lots more of them: they've had a record of more than 400 people sleeping there some winter nights, because they don't turn anyone away. Imagine that for crowd control scenarios! Since i was there when it was starting to snow , i could see the real and immediate importance of such a place! Mister Steve, Joe and Gene were wonderful men who gave me the big picture; thank you, guys. You are making ripples, touching lives, where those who are most in need are being truly helped and where those who aren't homeless can only applaud. (and give money! give time!)

On other fronts, internet wanderings have led me to another cousin, another great-grandhchild of Alexis Albert Mahieu--and another person who had stories of Alex's stunning behavior i had not yet heard. I'm beginning to wonder if there is a whole range of identifiable mental illness in both sides of my family! (But then again, in those days, people did crazy things and it just made for a great story...and tremendous fear in the hearts of their families--who had no therapists, no ways with which to deal with them, nor would it have occurred to them that this was anything but ordinary.) At any rate, Brian Mahieu is a brilliant artist and a breeder of some amazing daylily bulbs. (brianmahieu.com)
Another survivor of what appears to have been heavyhanded religion, he's now a happy man with a son who looks for all the world like Alex Mahieu. Some things repeat. Repeat. Repeat. (See the second paragraph!) But a lovely kid with a great smile that belies the fact that he is NOT Alex reincarnate. So hope springs eternal and we keep on, rippling, widening, sometimes flying higher, sometimes flapping helplessly........but the Holder of the Sky in which we flit or rise is Hope Himself.