~ The Art Of Change ~ with Carol Omer ~

Art and Creativity as Mediums for Empowerment , Connection and Change…

Archive for the ‘Men and Women’ Category

Ode to the Rescuer

Posted by carolom on September 15, 2016

*Updated
This poem is dedicated to the many women, especially those who I meet in domestic violence shelters, who really do believe:

If I just keep on loving him, he will change & we will have the relationship that I know is possible…

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We hear the words “I thought he would change” so often inside of the walls of domestic violence shelters that I created the following dramatisation for our Talking circle so that the group of women who have sometimes had 2 or 3 relationships with violent men, could begin to unravel what keeps them there and how to recognise the pattern.

The following piece is not relevant for all women who leave domestic violence, but for those women who sit in support groups and say “I believed him when he said he would change” and “He is a really nice guy, he just had a rotten childhood”, this piece is for you.
And for Janet who was killed in domestic violence by a man who then killed himself, leaving four beautiful children behind.

Ode to the Rescuer:

There was something very appealing about his pain, it matched her pattern perfectly
and her pattern goes like this:

Give me a damaged man with potential and I will embrace him as my life mission
My personal quest!

I will claim myself to be his Rescuer and through my eyes he will see how sorely he has been denied Love

And with the love of this Good Woman, he will heal!

He will heal
He will heal
He will heal

With the peace of mind that I alone have brought to him, delivered to him on a sincere heart that pulses with conviction, his heart shall finally, after many troubled years finally beat with contentment in symbiotic rhythm with my own

Ahh..this future memory brings tears to my eyes and reminds me to be patient and the reward will come.
Of this truth I have created, I am sure.
He will change
He will change
He will change
I shall interpret his moodiness as poetic brooding,
his sarcasm as merely the shadow of his enormous artistic sensitivities and
his broken promises as the unfortunate repercussions of a busy, preoccupied man.
I shall deny myself my heart’s desires,
less they place too much of a burden on his already busy mind.
I shall desperately seduce him into security with words thinly veiled
with the false reassurance that I want nothing of him
After all he is the broken one
Not me!
I will prove to him that I am the one single woman
on this Earth who can heal his troubled Soul.
Because I believe in him like no other has in the past
or could possibly at any time in the future
As the rescue program gets under way I will slowly begin to allow
the duality of the situation to come to the fore
Actually I won’t have a choice!
Having ensnared him with my rescuers net
or having fallen into his
I shall wrestle with the duality of being drawn to his charismatic withdrawals
whilst also experiencing an awakening awareness
that he is indeed mirroring my own need to heal and rescue the wounded heart.
There is something painfully seductive about that wounded heart after all it’s in all of the fairytales and rom-com’s isn’t it?
Love that Beast fair Beauty for he will come good in the end!
In order to ignore the needs of my own hopeful
desperate
optimistic
aching
wounded heart
I will plunge into my rescuing role with paradox and passion
for I am drawn to the angst of tortured feelings
which I have misconstrued as Romance and Love
as haplessly as he is drawn to his broody silences
and the acidic observations he casts out to bait me every now and then.
And quite regularly at times.
And yes. He has hit me in the past but the degree to which he is so truly deeply sorry overwhlems me with compassion for him.
Every time.
Every single time.
Except the last three times when I only felt fear and loathing,
But I got over that!
Didn’t I?
Didn’t I?

or Did !?

Words that forge our bond like who else would put up with you or me and
we were meant for one another, we are as bad as each other
will be the hypnotic sound track of the saga of our co-dependence

He will be my co-star as my life unfolds according to the stories I believe
Stories that I have created, many that have piggy backed onto the romantic tales of how the good girl transforms the bad boy with exquisite mastery and tears.
Fictional stories that I will defend as
Love!

Alas it is a tired old script with no surprises in the Story whatsoever!

but it will take me a long time to understand that
to reinterpret and rewrite the lead roles
because most of this is new to me!

And I am a stranger to myself.

Indeed aren’t we all until we remember who we really are?

Therefore I will need quite some time to realise any of this
as this predictable Olde Story unfolds on a roller coaster of
drama and desire
yearning and conflict

Those old scenarios and inevitable cycles replaying themselves in the guise of Love.

Love?

No this is just unlearnt lessons in re-enactment!
I will come to realise this one day
though I do not know that yet of course!

Although my heart does skip a beat when he looks at me in that certain seductive kind of way
Surely that must be Love?

Though you may well think I am making a banquet from a few crumbs of moments of hard earned intimacy
You are wrong of course!
Wrong
Wrong
Wrong

I know this banquet will be rich in the fruits of my desires so long as I am patient.
I will be Patient
will be Patient
will be Patient

My mantras give my life meaning and hope
They really do
Really really they do.

In the meantime I will deny that the toxins of this relationship are causing me great harm.
Souring my naiveté.
Poisoning the sweetness of my illusions whilst I continue to defend his lack of friendliness and warmth as justified

The increasing violence as a sign
that his love for me is so much he can barely handle the intensity!
I understand that and why he is violent
on account of the awful things he went through as a child.
The unresolved issues with his difficult father
The conflict with his troubled mother

There was just so much trouble that went into creating his troubled life
that I share

I am perhaps the only one who really knows that
and understands him and LOVES him
The only one

The lonely one

BUT

Love will conquer all. I think I am sure of that!

There is only one fixed rule in all of this apparent uncertainty
And this the rule I made and now obey:
I must Love him no matter how hard he is to Love.

I will Love him unconditionally
will Love him unconditionally
will Love him unconditionally

This one rule will make it all wonderful one day because

He will open up
He will open up
He will open up

Ultimately of course I will deny myself the right to move forward, to reach my fullest potential because I will be anchored defiantly to our co-dependence and staunchly courageously

desperately

refer to it as
Love!

This is what I know Love to be.

The End

I dedicate this to my lifelong friend Janet 1959 -2001 who was killed by her husband who then killed himself.

Your life mattered Janet, your stories are important to be told. I miss you dearly my friend.

Carol Omer
Certified Life Coach
Author of The Big Girls Little Coloring Book

Posted in Change, Chaos, Childhood, Co-dependence, Denial, Domestic Violence, Drama, Fear, Journeys, Letting go, Lifes Stories, Love, Men and Women, Poetry, Relationships, Sisterhood, Transformation, Unrequited Love, Wisdom, Women | 9 Comments »

EarthSong Aboriginal Healing Pathways Foundation is Incorporated…

Posted by carolom on September 27, 2008

We are very pleased to announce that EarthSong is now officially incorporated as of September 8th 2008.

Here are two of our founding members Misters John Hartley and John Williams holding our certificate of Incorporation.


If you are interested in learning more about EarthSong, who we are and what we are doing, please checkout the Facebook EarthSong Aboriginal Healing PathwaysFoundation group here:
EarthSong….Putting Action to the shared Vision for Change…

Photo update on our first working bee….

Posted in Aboriginal, Adelaide, Community, Domestic Violence, Elders, Forgiveness, Friendships, Healing, Journeys, Justice, Kaurna, Men and Women, Poverty, Power of Focus, Prosperity, Reconciliation, Staff Training, Wisdom | Leave a Comment »

Mandala

Posted by carolom on May 9, 2008

I made this Empowerment Mandala for our discussion on “Boundaries” in the women’s group…..

Each participant has a black and white copy as a way of ‘kick starting creativity and the use of symbols as an alternative to talk, talk, talk therapy……

Posted in Art, Change, Creativity, Family, Imagination, Journeys, Lifes Stories, Mandalas, Men and Women, Mind Power, Oneness, Power of Focus, Prosperity, Shamanic, Sisterhood, Social Artistry, Spirituality, The Art of Change, Warrior Women, Women | Leave a Comment »

The controversy generated by Imus- hmm…same word as ‘I’m-Us’!

Posted by carolom on April 18, 2007

The Oprah Winfrey forums are bubbling and steaming with responses after the viewing of the show that came about as a result of the Imus comments…which I actually do not know the exact nature of other than they were inflammatory and divisive…and a catalyst which is the most valuable aspect of any overtly racist / derogatory controversies.

I run Art based self empowerment programs based on the Mandorla, that almond shape created when two circles meet.
The Mandorla reminds us that we are all One & as human beings we are intimately exchanging one another on the breath. Separation is merely an illusion created by the outer constructions of how we have developed societies & class /cultural divides.

Here on Soul School Earth we are evolving & maturing on an individual & collective level & there are many ways we get to get the Lessons and the B’Lessons.

The drive for connection & authenticity & the drive for power & control will always generate oppositional {{{currents}}} that determine our {{{current}}} circumstances.

The American Government long ago identifed itself to be the “Super Power” here on Earth & as the only true Super Power in the Universe is
LOVE, it is not surprising that America is currently taking a deeply introspective look at many of the values & beliefs & behaviours that have not only shaped the hearts & minds of past generations, but are the soul-food for the {{{current}} generation of children.

One day I just know that EVERYone will understand the message & power of the Mandorla click here.
The Mandorla is the place that is created where two circles cross over and where our circles do not meet, that is th eplace where we learn fomr one anothers story.

In the meantime as we continue our collective and individual journey of enlightenment, we are collectively like unruly adolescents, messing up our personal space (polluting Mother Earth), fighting one another (school yard bullying & violence), calling one another names, not clearing up our mess, blaming the OTHER person..

Energy can not be destroyed & the emotional energies of hatred & racism will always swell & expose the current module needing attention
& development in the soul School curriculum.

The wonderful thing is that for RACISM to shift to ‘CARISM’, we only
need to make a slight adjustment…..move the C…to “C” things a little differently.

LOVE is the answer

FORGIVENESS is the key

WISDOM is the doorway and

….The path we are ALL on is our collective recovery from “Who I AM~AMnesia” back to the place where we are all One.

So many of us are the “Magical Child in Exile’ and if you Click Here it will lead you to a story about what happened to to the Magical Child…black /white /male/ female…

This is all about us returning to Love.

Will it take a Miracle? yes!

MIRACLE
RECLAIM
MIRACLE
RECLAIM

Same letters, same word from a different view…..therefore we just need to RECLAIM LOVE and remember our Connection to one another… for the MIRACLEs…the Mirrorcles…to appear.

It is all unfolding exactly as it should here in the class rooms of Soul School Earth and we are moving into some very serious modules of wisdom, maturity and mastery as these ‘controversies’ unfold.

Lets get people CREATING together!

Let’s get Creative !! -Click here to see one way of sharing creatively inspiring time….

Let’s Draw and Draw in our New Vision…

UNITY IN COMMUNITY
I created these posters because sometimes we just need to picture it!

Posted in Community, Creativity, law of attraction, Men and Women, Oneness, Peace, Relationships, The Art of Change, Wisdom | 2 Comments »

This is a real photo..with REAL Men!!

Posted by carolom on April 14, 2007

Once a month I go to a country town to run a workshop and part of the enjoyment of the trip is staying in an on site cabin in a tourist park by the river. As I left to go to the group yesterday a never-before-scene strolled past me.

4 men pushing 4 strollers (one of them a two-cherub chariot) brimming with babies with two or three toddlers on bikes in front of them.

This took ‘2 men and a baby ” to a whole new level!

Back in the park were four wives enjoying non-Mum time whilst their Ideal Husbands headed off to town for a morning of strolling with strollers and no doubt receiving the applause and woo-hoo’s of other women who, like me, let them know they just made my day!!

I just had to get photographic evidence of this unusual event that shows what became of those much sought after S.N.A.G.S. of the 90’s…

Those spiritual new age guys became the fruits of the mens-liberation movement that went largely unnoticed until recent times….

These guys have a top view of Involved in Fatherhood and still manage to still have a great bottom view too….;)

Posted in Humor, Men and Women | 15 Comments »

Sisters…our Brothers are not all to blame….

Posted by carolom on March 24, 2007

Since opening up my suitcase and reading through 30 years of notebooks and journals….See here…… I have been reading things that I wrote at various stages of my years of working in human services. what an interesting expereince to say the least!

In the late 80’s and through the 90’s I was constantly coming across the ‘sexism in reverse’ trend of the very anti-male feminist right movement that was quite influential in the welfare sector, resulting in some of the very same exclusion by gender issues that women were rallying against in the first place.

I do not see myself as separate to or victimised by men, despite having had significant challenges in the male-female dynamics of our family in my formative years….
and living in a relationship that was hostile and volatile for a number of years.

After attending a public workshop one day I decided to pen my views , as a woman who is very not anti male and had never aligned with the feminist movement, preferring to focus on Human Liberation – recognising that the perpetrator is in their own prison too.
The following is the semi-fictional piece I wrote:
“Sisters, our Brothers are not all to blame”…. and although 10 years down the track it is a bit dated and has not been edited, my core belief in a much bigger story of Men and Women and the dynamics and politics remains as strong now as it did then….perhaps even more so as I understand the evolving nature of consciousness.

***********************

Sisters… Our Brothers are Not All To Blame!

She had been quite vocal for most of the morning. She was a tall lady, probably the oldest in the room and she commanded a certain degree of respect because of her age.
Those who were gathered were mostly white women without tribe and they responded well when a potential Elder was in their midst.
Some of the Archetypes are imbued with more power than others!
She was almost 6 foot and she had the equestrian look of someone who had ridden the hurdles and steeple chases of life in a manner that left her somewhat scathed…And when it was her time to speak, she proved to be very scathing indeed.
I had been doodling as the invited guests spoke. We had gathered from many walks of the working life to discuss the nature of addiction amongst women who are in pain.
There was only one man amongst us and when I saw him I experienced a ripple of trepidation that whispered words of premonition… “I hope this doesn’t turn into a blame all men session” I thought with more than a touch of apprehension…I had walked this path before.

I continued with my doodling…My subconscious tossed out the word BLAME…B-Lame, B, hyphen… lame.
“Hmm I like that. Blame. B-Lame be crippled by blame. Blame makes you lame”

I was beComing lost  in the lateral realm so I forced myself to put the pen down and pay attention to the tall woman.
It was her turn to speak.
Robyn, who had shared her story earlier that day offered her the microphone. She rudely dismissed it with a sweep of her hands.
I was in the presence of someone who had forgone politeness for purpose. She didn’t even notice Robyn’s slightly embarrassed smile…She was far too busy preparing for the attack.

She began to speak. “Women have been disempowered in all walks of life. In the Media, in Law, in Parliament and in the Church”
She launched into her interpretation of why the world is in the mess that it is. “The male structures are resistant to change and it is up to women to move into these areas so that the damage can be corrected”
I was unable to look up because I was in the midst of my premonition coming true and I was expending quite a bit of energy trying to thought-form communicate to the solitary male in the room.

Unfortunately the number of heads nodding in agreement negated my lone psychic cry. “Excuse me”, I projected his way, “Not all of use here believe that men are to blame for absolutely everything that has gone wrong”.
I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat.
“B-lame. Get stuck in blame.”
I went back to my doodling and sketched a cradle around the words. Underneath the cradle I wrote more words:
“The hand that rocked the cradle helped to perpetuate the myths”.
I was underlining it for the third time when I was compelled to look up.
A wise Elder would not misuse her sacred trust by imparting bias as a truth but before my very ears, she was perpetuating more of the victim-speak that had somehow become accepted as historical fact.

Her hostility brought forth the memory of a past learning curve. I had joined a forum of Youthworkers who had gathered to look at issues for young women who lived in shelters.…
Male workers were not allowed.
They were not allowed to participate regardless of whether or not they worked with the young women who we were discussing.
Excluded. Full stop. Excluded regardless of whether or not they were directly involved in policy making and that they may have had some very valuable contributions to make They were not allowed to participate because they were men.
I cast my mind back to the curve that strengthened my spine.
“Excuse me. Isn’t this forum concerned with issues for young women. Aren’t we being sexist by not allowing male Youthworkers to participate?”
The moisture in my mouth had undergone internal alchemy and was now pouring out the palms of my hand.
I was not used to asserting myself in the presence of overt separatism but I had done my research. I had checked with the Equal Opportunities commission first.
A male worker would be quite within his rights to assert that he was discriminated against because of his gender if he was excluded from this forum . I knew many good, kind, caring Youthworkers…and many of them were men!
Mickee, who was known as Michelle in the first half of her current incarnation, glared at me. It was not a politely concealed response. Mickee didn’t like men. She counselled female survivors of sexual abuse and she considered all men to be perpetrators.
No man was to be trusted! Betrayal by women who defended the rights of men was viewed as further evidence of the toxins of patriarchy…Mickee had read the book “Divas in Denial”.
I hadn’t but I knew that she thought I was in denial. She didn’t know that I used to partake of the blame-game.
I looked back on that time as a period of creative and Spiritual atrophy.
At that time I had not begun to understand metaphysics and the evolution of consciousness. The illusory nature of drama and pain were still unrealistic concepts …things had changed a great deal since then.

I thought Mickee looked very aggressive.
She was dogmatic and narrow minded.
She was angry and not at all compassionate or flexible.

She leant forward as she spoke.
“Look, we know that men are dogmatic, narrow minded, inflexible and full of anger.
I question why men want to work with young women anyway”…
Her sisters, my sisters rallied to her support…I was a misfit in my floral skirt.

I felt under attack by women who looked and acted in the manner that they attributed to the men who they despised.
Duality and paradox swirled before me as my learning curve stretched at my resolve and enticed me to back down. I didn’t.
The anti-male movement had been ruffling my feathers for far too long.

After terse debate there was a token compromise. Male workers could come along once every fourth meeting.
Alas, there was only one who was brave enough to come along and he was treated to the embarrassment of whispered intonations and looks that told him he was not welcome in this enemy camp..

He paid for the sins, real and imagined of all men who had journeyed before him.

The forum disbanded shortly after. The philosophical divide had created a chasm that could not be bridged and I had outed myself as a hetrosexual humanist in a flock of anti-male mostly-sisterhood- feminists who had little to do with men, unless it was to decry their flawed and vitriolic ways…

I brought my thoughts back to the room.
The speaker was drawing to a close. I knew it was time.
I had to respond to the attack that had lasted for half an hour and had left no man standing in it’s wake:
“Excuse me. I think that it’s quite sexist to make sweeping statements about men. What you have said is akin to saying that all women are bad drivers. It’s an archaic, sexist statement and it’s untrue.”

I knew my analogy was a little twee but she got the gist of what I was trying to say.

I looked at her with many other thoughts remaining unspoken.
Little boys who were told by their mothers, sisters, aunties and grandmothers not to cry. “Don’t be a sooky”. “Act like a man”. “Stop being a cry baby” “You’re acting like a girl”. “Don’t be a sissy”…”Boy’s don’t play with DOLLS!”
Suck it up!

Little boy artists and poets and dancers and writers who were laughed off the family stage and re-programmed to be tough, compete as urban warriors, providers for their flock.
The strong, silent type became a metaphor for the repressed, made-mute type.
Their fathers, brothers, uncles and grandfathers collaborated in these unenlightened beliefs…
Sugar and spice and all things nice…for the Girls.
Rats and snails and puppy dogs tails for the Boys.

We have all been involved in the machinations and messages that created the mess we are in.
Millions of boys schooled in the rigid discipline of removing themselves from the poetry and rhythm of life.
Millions of girls who were taught by their mothers and fathers to be nice, be a wife…don’t get a life.

Generations of blocked, angry frustrated men.
Generations of repressed, angry frustrated women.
Concentration camps for the Soul churning out damaged Men and Women, many of whom spend their adult lives wasting time and energy accusing each other of blame.

B-lame…get stuck in blame and we’ll never ever move forward.

Men who have had a shorter life span, higher incidence of heart failure and cancer and other Soul-bondage related illnesses.
Their Sisters, we women who suffered repression, depression, nest-internment, neurosis and an inability to reach our fullest potential …
We have all suffered…Let’s move on from the blame game say I!

My face remained expressionless whilst my thoughts embarked on my one sided debate.

“Life is one long conversation with our Self occassionally interupted by others”

The Expert on Addictions Elder looked down at me form her lofty height.

She spoke slowly because it was obvious I didn’t understand what she was saying.
“I was referring to the general state of things. The references I made to the male structures are to do with the patriarchal system”.

I did not respond. I didn’t want to debate in a few minutes her sexism of a lifetime. I dare not suggest that in order to address the balance we would have to look at the role of the Matriarchy in all of this. I wasn’t prepared to prod that sacred cow…not yet.
I did not want to take out the scales of injustice and weigh the grains of pain to see who has suffered the most and who was the most to blame.
I would not accept it when she inferred that a woman would be able to create positive change by virtue of the fact that she is a woman. The sceptre of my wicked step-sister loomed before me. Pauline Hanson. A paragon of the absence of insight and wisdom for multicultural reform.
I resisted the urge to request the tall woman to please explain!

The forum drew to a close. I tried to catch the eye of the man who had sat through the days discussion. He was nowhere to be seen. I heard later that he had not come back after lunch.

That evening I sat down to write a few words to the tall woman with a small view of a large and complex concern.
She was angry at all men and I crafted my words carefully in order to address her sexist views…….

“Dear Sister” I began, the internal alchemy now transmuting perceptions into the fluidity of words. “My Brothers are not to blame for everything that has gone wrong. To assume a person is a particular way because of their gender is something women have fought to have corrected. It works both ways……”.

I wrote about much of what I have spoken here and found myself writing late into the night.
I sensed that her blame was a mask that thinly disguised her own pain and the issue I was addressing was only a slither of much bigger story.
Nevertheless men had come in for quite a knocking that day, and it tends to happen a lot these days and I stand by my assertion that reminds us…
“Sisters, my Brothers are not all to blame”

Posted in Community, Drama, Lifes Stories, Men and Women, Sisterhood, Writing | Leave a Comment »