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Showing posts with label child. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child. Show all posts

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Mafia vs Catholic Church

A friend of mine told me a joke recently...

What's the difference between the Catholic Church and the Mafia?
.
.
.
.

The Mafia believes in God.


Ouch.

Whether or not you think this joke is funny or not or in poor taste, read on...

Upon hearing that joke, the thought occurred to me:

What would the mafia do if one of their leaders, lieutenants, soldiers, or even just one of their new recruits was found to be molesting children?

Think about it.


If they lived even 24 hours after their secret was found out, they'd be in a world of hurt.

But most likely, they'd have a bulls eye on them so big, you could see it from space.


In fact, if a new recruit were found to be molesting children they'd at least get their package removed in a very unsanitary and unfriendly way (as if there's a friendly way to remove a man's rod and tackle).

But most likely, they'd get wacked and further most likely, they'd get wacked quickly and without sympathy or remorse.

Remind me, what has the catholic church done with child molesters?

How about the Mormon church?

They'd reassign them to another parish. Or they'd cover it up as long as the sinner confessed.

Now this is not to say that I'm condoning organized crime, or the catholic church, come to think of it, but at least the mafia has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to child molestation.

But that's my assumption. Does anyone out there really know?

Please weigh-in and let me know what you think.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Throw a Tantrum

About two years ago, my Mother informed me that I never threw tantrums as a child.

I was appalled. Never?!? That seems not only impossible but improbable. Every child I've ever known (and I nannied throughout high school and college) throws tantrums. Sure they vary in severity, volume and theatricality, but generally, all children throw some sort of tantrum.

She said, "I don't remember you ever throwing tantrums."

Jeez.

No wonder then, a few decades after my birth, I found myself throwing a sort of controlled tantrum in service to releasing some of that undone childhood stuff. (More on that below.)

A little background. My older brother by 2 1/2 years was a bit of a trouble-maker. Generally, for my parents and for me. Somewhere in my kid brain I decided I had to be good. For the sake of my parents and/or family. Trouble is, I was making this decision as a child. I didn't know the ramifications, I only knew how to make sense of the world through a child's eyes and perspective.

Now, I've fared quite well considering this self-imposed pressure. I never dated abusive men, nor am I ultra self-destructive or sabotaging. I don't suffer abuse at my own hand nor others. I used to attract and tolerate non-committal men, but I seem to have released that as well. (Whew!)

But I probably am, as I like to say, a recovering perfectionist. I held myself to very high standards (big surprise coming from someone who had to be good as a child). I've released a lot of those standards, knowing now that I can be as I am now. Which is quite different from who I thought I was supposed to be.

A word on that controlled tantrum. Because I've done it myself and facilitated others doing it. Controlled means there are pillows and enough space to thrash around without hurting myself or anyone else. Also, it's vital to have an experienced facilitator present to help. Since my last big one was in 2008, I don't remember all the details, but I do recall tantruming, it feeling good, and spouting things like, I don't have to be good!

Very child-like.

But here's what I discovered to be on the other side. And I may write more about this in future blogs because I suspect there will be more than I can even cover today. Perhaps I've written about it in the past as well...

Freedom. Euphoria. Laughter. Wonderment. I freed myself from my own shackles of a false belief and good behavior.

What ultimately came about is that I found myself acting like a kid. Being like a kid again. Sort of. It was like being a kid without the weight of childhood perceptions and adult intervention. I found pleasure again in seemingly small things. Washing my hands (the liquid hand soap felt so neat on my hands); stepping outside on super-hot cement (we were in 105° desert) - it felt warm and tingly on my feet; driving was wee fun (don't worry I had a co-pilot and I grounded myself before driving); food was a whole new experience with textures and flavors...I loved cottage cheese! Also, my ego and reactive mind seemed just like little floaty things. Any negative or defeating thoughts didn't take hold...they couldn't form roots.

It could've been that I was simply experiencing euphoria after all the wailing. I could've been making it up.

I don't think so. But ultimately, it didn't matter. My experience was all that mattered.

So...Throw a tantrum (with pillows & support). Wail. Cry. Spend a day in silence. Or discover for yourself what might help you tap into that wonderment that's in all of us.

See what's on the other side. You just might like it.