THE MONTANI TREASURE - A Modern Classic Fairytale

Across the ocean, in a remote island, on the top of the highest mountain, deep in the furthest corner there was a village and in that village lived a family. This family had produced the most beautiful women the world had ever seen for generations. Each generation had produced one daughter and this one daughter would inherit the beauty of her mother and her mother before her and so on and so forth.

In this village there lived a descendant of this great family. She was the last of a long line of beautiful women but her home was far, far away and her story was that of loss and sorrow. Traditionally the Montani female gave birth to one female child per generation and the only born female child of the Montani family always inherited the beauty of her mother. It had been this way for centuries. Because of this beauty she was pursued by men from miles around. Men from all over the world offered gold and land and titles just to be known as the possessor of the “Montani Treasure”, as the only daughter of the Montani family was known.

But when the only female born child was born to the last line of the Montani family she was weak and sickly. The high priest cast her horoscope at birth and predicted that her life would be one of bitterness and misery. The village shouted that the child should be put to death, rather than condemned to live such a miserable life but the Montani family were great believers in tradition. Their great wealth had been accumulated by marrying off their only daughter to the richest, most prestigious man available. They needed this child to live.

So they prayed and made sacrifices to the Gods to spare their daughter. Rebecca lingered for a year, on the brink of death, needing constant supervision and care. Her mother, fearing that the Montani family’s reputation would be ruined and not wanting to be known as the only Montani heiress who did not pass on the legendary beauty of their family, quickly became pregnant again.

She gave birth to a small female child and from the very beginning it became clear that the legendary beauty of the Montani family had been gifted for the first time in history to the second born female. The Montani family rejoiced and gave up hope on Rebecca, whom the astrologers had correctly predicted would live a life of bitterness and suffering, albeit a short one. It was thought for sure that without the constant care and supervision Rebecca had been given since she was born that the child would most assuredly die quickly.

But Rebecca did not die. She hung onto life, growing up to be a weak, pale, frail looking version of her younger sister. Sophia however, surpassed her mother’s beauty and her mother before her and her’s before her. Rebecca heard people whispering of her sister’s beauty and she fumed inside. Actually, she could have been very beautiful hersel, but her eyes were angry and her mouth was always turned down in a frown. While Sophia, who lnew the history of her family, felt burdened with a beauty that by right did not belong to her.

When there were celebrations she hid in the shadows and encouraged her sister to take her place. When men came to inquire about her, she feigned sickness and asked her sister to meet with them instead. But rather than being gratefu, her sister was even angrier at this blatant display of sympathy. She told her sister that she was not in need of her charit, but that only made Sophia try harder. At dinner, when delicious meals of succulent meats, flakey bread and wine and cakes were serve, Sophia ate in the kitchen with the servants. She, who was the most beautiful woman in the world, the Montani Treasure, ate vegetables and fruits like a common servant so as to not outshine her older sister, the rightful heir of the Montani treasure.

Whenever a task needed to be done she volunteered so as to prove to her sister that she did not think she was special. She, who was the Montani Treasure, worked like a commoner in a house that had belonged to her family for centuries. Sophia was never found in gowns of lace and asked for very little for herself. However, ating vegetables rather than meats simmered in thick sauces and cakes laced with sugar and working herself to exhaustion almost every night made her healthy and strong. Her skin was flawless and her muscles were tight. She was beautiful not only in body, people exclaimed, but in spirit as well. Look at how generous she was to her older sister, people whispered behind closed doors, a sister who was an angry, miserable, bitter woma, just as the astrologers had predicted.

When Sophia was 18 years ol, Rebecca asked to speak to her in private about a very urgent matter. In the darkness of the room they shared, behind locked doors, Rebecca explained in anger how Sophia had stolen her birthright. She was adamant. No man would ever want her with Sophia around. It wasn’t enough that she was the first born Montani femal, Rebecca was supposed to have been beautiful, SHE was supposed to have been courted and pursued, SHE was supposed to have been the ONLY Montani female descendant and Sophia should have never been born.

She insisted, the only way this could be rectified was if Sophia went away. Not forever but only long enough to allow Rebecca to make a good marriage. Rebecca had arranged everything. There was a young man she had paid well, he would take her to a remote village at the top of a mountain and Sophia would stay there for a short while. No one would have to know. Everyone would be told that she was ill and couldn’t leave her rooms for a short time. Sophia would go away and when she returned Rebecca would be married and she would be happy. Rebecca would no longer have to tolerate the pity she saw in everyone’s eyes when they looked at her.

How could Sophia be so selfish as to not grant her sister this one request? Wasn’t being the most beautiful woman in the world the greatest gift of all? Sophia had so much and Rebecca had so little. How could she not do this one small thing for the sister she claimed to love?

Sophia was contrite. She had stolen everything from her sister and try as she could, she had never been able to make it up to her. If this small thing would make her sister happy she would do it. But Sophia was a fool. The young man Rebecca spoke of had been paid not to take her to a village but to commit murder. Rebecca wanted never to see Sophia again. She wanted never to have to be compared to her beautiful, kind, selfless sister. She wanted to be as her ancestors had been, the only living female Montani heir. She had paid the young man without a hint of remorse and planned to tell her parents that the illness her sister had, which had forced her to be locked in her room, had taken her life. They would be sad for a time but they would get over it. They would make due with a first born who was not so very beautiful and in time they would forget all about Sophia.

But the young man whom Rebecca had paid to kill Sophia did not do as he was told. He was a stranger to their land and he had felt sorry for the bitter woman he’d met in secret. Although he was not a man who one could hire to do murder, his blood boiled at the stories he’d heard of this selfish, younger, more beautiful sister, who did everything she could to make her older sister’s life miserable. Rebecca had painted the picture of a woman who was satisfied with nothing; of a woman who had taken everything that rightfully belonged to her older sister and still wanted more.
Having been struck with hard time, he decided he would take the job. He wouldn’t kill the younger sister but Rebecca need not know this. He would take her far, far away and no one would be the wiser.

But when he met Sophia he fell hopelessly in love with her. She was generous and kind and helpful and everything she had in physical beauty was magnified by her loving spirit. Ye, no matter how much he told Sophia this she did not believe him. Sophia had grown up in the shadow of her sister’s bitterness. There was not a moment that she was not reminded that what she had did not belong to he, so she did not feel genuine. Just as her sister told her all her life, she was convinced that she was a fraud. She felt no one could possibly love her unless she proved that she was worthy of that love. She did not believe she was lovable.

This young man wanted her more than life itself but she did could not conceive of it. If he was attracted to her because of her beaut, it was a beauty that rightfully belonged to someone else; if he wanted her because she was kind and givin, that was only what she had to be because of the wrong she had done to her sister.

Yet Sophia had not counted on the young man himself. He was relentless in his pursuit of her and in time he convinced her that she was what he wanted. Being in love and believing in the magic of that love, that nothing could go wrong again, Sophia spoke longingly of when they could return home and be married. But the young man knew that they could never, ever return to her home again. Sophia had told him the lies that her sister had told her to get her to leave and having heard her stor, he knew now that Rebecca had lied to him, too. But he could not tell Sophia this because he knew it would break her heart.

So every time she spoke of home he listened but if she asked him when they would return he would change the subject or refuse to give her a firm date. There came a time that Sophia decided she had been away from home long enough. Although she had convinced herself that this young man did really and truly love he, she had begun having doubts.

If he loved her so much, why wasn’t he willing to take her home and declare it to the whole village? Why did they have to live here in secrecy?

So although the nagging doubt that had been sewn by her sister was still present in the back of her mind, that she was indeed unlovable, she put everything on the line and demanded, pleaded that he take her home, that he tell the whole village how much he loved her.

When the young man refused she was crushed. Her every nightmare had been confirmed in his refusal. He did not love her. He did not want her. In the darkness, away from everyone else, he was free with his declarations of love but when she insisted that everything come out in the open he refused. How could his love be true and genuine if he did not want to be seen with her in daylight, in the open?

In the dead of the night, she left, leaving her lover behind. He woke to find her gone and searched frankly for any sign of where she had gone but there were none. Thinking that she had returned home without hi, he went back there only to learn that her sister had broken her neck in a fall not two days after Sophia had disappeared. Her parents, in despair, took to their beds and both died within a fortnight of each other. Whereas the village had once been flourishing with wealth and happiness, it was now over grown with poverty and desolation.

The young man lived a long life of regret. Why had he not taken her home when she asked, he wondered over and over? It was such a small thing to ask and he had denied her. Why did he think she would be content to wait until he was ready? But the answers to his questions were beyond him and she was long gone.

Unbeknownst to the young man, Sophia had returned to her village but she hid when he came looking for her. She lived out the rest of her days there alone, across the ocean, on this remote island, on the top of the highest mountain, deep in the furthest corner in the village where her family once lived.

Head of the Household

Head of the household? King of the Castle? These titles are out-dated and over-rated. Because men can never forget a time when "Mommy" was the all-powerful keeper of the golden key, they tend to live their lives in mortal fear of being over-powered and controlled by the dreaded: W-O-E M-A-N.

It might be one thing to have to contend with this fear all alone but it is quite another when the fear lives in tandem with an ever growing need to receive the love and attention all little boys thrive on. How can they forget a time when they were Mommy's special little boy, the warmth of her smile, the safety of her arms?

In the grand scheme of things, this love/hate relationship is supposed to be balanced by the presence of a (drum roll please) FATHER. He is supposed to show this child that Mommy is not at all infallible. She is a living, breathing human being with emotions and does, in fact, make mistakes. This little boy watches his father and learns very early on how to handle mother.

So what happens when Daddy isn't there, and Mommy is working to support the family?

Poor, poor little Timmy. Doubly rejected, doubly abandoned with no role model to guide him, no Mommy to comfort him and his fear and love to contend with all by his lonesome.

Let's step into the world of the New American Family. Sit back and watch as it disintegrates before your very eyes. I will stir the pot, so that the plot doesn't thicken and serve you up food for thought that I promise will satisfy you for days. In Women Where Art Thou I explored the Women's Movement and how it affected women in general. I asked my audience to look at our over-all self-esteem. I asked my audience to look at the poor choices we've made and the desperate choices we fool ourselves into believing we are forced to make.

Now I will ask my audience to take a closer look at an example of the American Family. More specifically let's look at this little boy:

Home alone, or perhaps with a sitter, after spending hours at school being influenced by a hundred different trains of thoughts he is desperately seeking a stable home base. But Mommy isn't there. She is working. And Daddy isn't there, because he's abandoned ship. An unsettling feeling of instability, a fear of the great unknown is left unchecked in this precious little boy. He doesn't know who he is because no one has told him. But let me tell you, there is something that he does have that cannot be substituted. He has Mommy's undying, all consuming love. Without a companion or perhaps afraid to give her love and trust to a man who might break her heart, she showers it on this wonderful little boy. He is desperately in need of some attention so he soaks it up. But once puberty hits, there grows an unsettling need to break away inside of him. He loves her but he can't breathe. He loves her but he cannot see himself. He needs her but she makes him feel weak.

When he grows up he will find himself a woman he can feel safe with. Perhaps someone he can dominate; perhaps someone he can control. But at the same time that he controls her she must also be the sacrificial lamb of love that will give him all the attention he needs to live.

All right, all right! Lest I be bombarded with responses claiming I have generalized the whole issue and what about this and what about that let's adjust the lens a little bit and look down the street at another American Family:

Tommy's father lives at home but he is no match for Tommy's mother. She can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan. And she never let's Tommy's father forget that he ain't no man. She's the new aged woman and Tommy is terrified of her. There's no time for love and affection here. Bills must be paid and obligations must be met. Daddy assumes a subservient role because it is just too much trouble to fight with Mommy and Tommy learns that Mommy always wins! Like living in a combat zone, Tommy is always looking over his shoulder. He cannot tolerate any criticism, any blame or responsibility for anything. He must always be right because to be wrong would mean to go back to that horrible, fearful place that he grew up in. He will never go back!!

So he chooses a woman who is "strong" and attempts to break her down through calculated attacks on her self-esteem and strategic put downs. Remember, he learned from the best. He doesn't feel secure enough in himself to be with a "weaker" woman. He NEEDS a strong woman to break down. His self-esteem wasn't nurtured by a father who modeled for him that men can be strong and he was totally smothered by his mother's dominating personality. The only way he feels strong is when she feels weak. Inside he is a fragile, paper tiger and he knows it.

Haven't had enough yet? Okay, let's turn around and look at another American Family:

But what am I talking about? Billy's family is not a family. It's a war zone. And very early on Billy had to choose sides. Mommy and Daddy lived by a very clear code: Anything you can do I can do better. Love was not the basis for this relationship, it was competition. And Billy was not smart enough, fast enough or old enough to participate. So what does he do? He gives up. `I just can't do it' settles in the back of his brain and lives there for the rest of his life. I can't get a job, because I just won't do well. I can't be a father, because I just don't know how, and I could never learn'.

I can't imagine that any of my readers could eat another bite. Although there are many variations of the same meal at this dysfunctional buffet, you might want to run out and get some antacid to cure that unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach before you attempt to digest anymore.

Many will respond with indignation, claiming what I’ve written is indigestible at best and nonsense, at the least. And perhaps the male readers have long since moved on, after all it's a bitter pill to swallow accepting that their lack of responsibility for the American Family is based on fear. Fear of responsibility; fear of being controlled; fear of failure. No matter how you dish it up, it is fear that creates the fight or flight response. And so like a ship without a rudder, off the American Family goes, aimlessly wondering without any direction. Some of the crew cower in the lower decks. Some jump ship. Other's try desperately to change it's course. But it's the captain of the ship that has to step up to the plate. Apparently, he is nowhere to be found.

"Lost Little Boy" Courtesy of SunnySommers All Rights Reserved Click link by Title to see more

Women, Where Art Thou?

Long ago, under the weight of oppression, without rights or recognition, women in America fought for our rights - our civil rights. And we won, or so we thought. Off into the work force we marched. We left our children at home with caretakers and tackled the board room. We studied and earned our degrees, and proved without a doubt that we are just as good as men are -- no, we were not just as good. We were better.

Time marched on and we stopped marching. Yes, there was a glass ceiling in the work place but some were able to shatter it. We became content with those who didn't mind the cuts and bruises. If a few could make it to the round table in the board room then so be it. No thought was given to pulling up those who looked up wistfully below us. To those on the ladder of success, who fell victim to the falling pieces of glass, we turned a blind eye.

We lost our sisterhood. We lost our desire for a family and a home and set our sights on a more concrete goal: Property, assets, stocks and bonds; jewels and furs, and luxury cars. And because we had so much money, we were rich enough to offer free love and free sex.

Perhaps we were not respected but we didn't let that stop us. Perhaps we were not valued but what did it matter? We didn't need a man to value us, we said to ourselves. We would prove our worth to the world.

Yet, amongst Doctorates and Bachelor degrees, corner offices and six figure salaries why then did we feel so empty, with our barren wombs? And when had the idea of a home and a family become so appealing? What was happening?

After having spent so much time developing ingenious ideas to stop the process of fertilization we were desperate to start it up again. We wanted to be pregnant NOW. Aborted fetuses became painful to remember for some, while Invitro-fertilization became a household name, as many others struggled with the inability to have children at all. You see, we didn't want to adopt. No child of another woman's womb could satisfy our yearning. We longed for -- no, we desperately wanted our own children and our own husbands as well.

That's right, that man - you know, the one who we shunned and marched against; the one who we said we didn't need and could do without? Yes, the very one; we wanted him, too. In fact, we didn't just want him; we needed him, in a strange and desperate way. And even as he emotionally abused us, we clung to him; and even as he used us, we clung to him; and even as he lied to us and misled us, we still clung to him. As we became unraveled and dismantled, we clung to him, because without him, we felt we were nothing. It was in him we defined ourselves. It was in him, we esteemed ourselves. It was with him, we felt whole.

He oppressed us emotionally, just as he did long ago, when we first developed the courage to march for women's rights, but this time we chose to stay. We chose to stay this time, because we had convinced ourselves there was no where else to go. No amount of education could convince us of our worth. No amount of financial success made us feel valuable. Without a family, we found, we felt worthless. Without someone to reflect back to us who were were, we did not know ourselves.

How ironic! As we marched, did we ever realize we would march down through history and come full circle? How is it that we now marvel at how our mothers raised six children, when we can hardly manage the two or three we have? She was supposed to be the weak one; the one who foresook a career and a full, promising life for the sake of a husband. But oh, how we envy her strength, while we struggle to work outside the home and take care of our families, all the while finding it an impossible task.

Now, we wrestle with dismay at the fathers who've walked away from their children, tossing a comment over their shoulders that they are sure we can do it all alone. In fact, we said we could, long ago, remember?

We said we didn't need them, and now our words have come back to haunt us. `You're as good as we are', their taunting eyes challenged, So go ahead, do it yourself'.

But since we have realized how much our children need a father, we don't want to do it alone. We wish we could take our words back because we finally understand the pain we saw hidden behind our mother's eyes, when our own fathers did not come home.

Why did we go out searching for our value outside of the home, outside of ourselves? While looking for a stamp of approval from society we managed to lose our sense of self. Our careers were not able to define us; our assets failed to complete us.

We are horrified at the Female Genital Mutilation occurring in Africa, while we live with molestation here in the United States. Children are sold into sexual slavery to feed their starving families in India, but we turn a blind eye to prostitution in America, because the exchange of currency makes it somehow different. Young boys are rented out to men for their perverse satisfaction in Europe, and in the same way, young parishioners are violated by Priests in our Catholic churches.

What has happened to our children and our families? Why do we focus our compassion on the outside, when inside, at home, we've come undone?

Women, where art thou?

Who are you?

Are you looking to fulfill yourself with someone else's life?

Are you a mother, a partner, a friend, a wife?

Does your marriage compliment who you are or is it just a poor substitution for a fragile soul?

Can you protect your children and teach them what they need to know, not how to survive in this world, but how to thrive in this world?
Remember, you can only do this for your children, if you have first done it for yourself.

Do you have anything to offer the world or do you only seek to use what you find in others?

When God created woman he did so with the idea that she would become a partner to men in the raising of their children; she was to be the backbone of the family. God did not create half of a human being. He did not leave women lacking. We came to the world whole and fully functional, to do what we were meant to do: Nurture, protect, love, inspire, uplift, console, and to create life with a loving man who regards us with value. We were never meant to cheapen ourselves with someone who abuses us and certainly we were never to conspire to do everything on our own.

Are we still searching fruitlessly on the outside for what God has placed within?

Artwork by Peter Horvath All Rights Reserved

The Dysfunctional Family & It's Rolls--oops, I mean Roles

Here it is, just in the time for Thanksgiving.

Read Judith Anodea's excellent description of a dysfunctional family and you'll find Thanksgiving dinner with your's very interesting. Not sure if your family is "ok" - click the arrow by the title and take the test! Don't hang yourself on the results, though. It's just for fun!

"The human force behind the New Age Movement is made of people who, for better or worse, are survivors of the previous generation's child-rearing philosophies.

This is nothing new: Every generation has had its legacy of cultural mores to plow through, outgrow and transform. Within the family, a semi-isolated and barely conscious evolutionary unit, this happens slowly and painfully.

However, the evolutionary thrust of the New Age movement seems to be moving itself from the traps of family dynamics through group activity, such as men's groups, women's groups, environmental groups, parent's groups, magical groups, newsletter groups, 12-step groups of every kind. Through the support of our peers we venture into the unknown, challenge the assumptions of our inherited legacy, and try to create and embody a more productive life plan.

There is a certain "fallout" from this transition. While the effects of
a long-standing tradition of dysfunction are being removed from the family situation, they are being insinuated into our group situations. Let us examine the way that we, as individuals, sabotage the work we are doing by recreating our dysfunctional family patterns in our present group activities.

Dynamics from our family of origin will be played out in subsequent
family situations. Many groups are designed specifically to offset this process, such as Adult Children of Alcoholics. Because of this focus and because of "generational bonding" (common values), such groups are expected to be immune to these dysfunctional patterns and provide a safe place for us to go through our personal transitions. Thus we often fail to see these patterns when they do occur. Working with other survivors of dysfunctional families, our own neurotic patterns fit like hand in glove with those of our co-workers. We may be aware of our authority issues when dealing with a parent figure, but we are blind to them when it comes to friends of our own generation and shared belief systems.

First, what do we mean by "dysfunctional family"?

A dysfunctional family is a group energy system which either fails to perform its intended function or is dependent upon -- harmful or counter-productive methods in order to function. It's a system that doesn't work very well or one that hurts the people in it. Counter-productive actions are repeated again and again until they become an intrinsic part of the system because the overall functioning of the system becomes more important than the means.

A family's purpose can be seen as the living, sharing, nourishing and development of life. When this purpose is no longer fulfilled, as when making a living or caring for children becomes immersed in addictions, lies, violence, or personal manipulation, yet still continues, that system has become dysfunctional. If Dad's drinking or abusing, Mom allows him to continue working at his meaningless job, on which the family is dependent, then this behavior becomes accepted as part of the family system. Because the child is born into it, the family's method of functioning is seen as "normal." This form of dysfunctionality is shrouded in non-communication, alienation, fear, denial and anger which, while shared by all, is not permissible to express.

These feelings get channeled into standardized behavior patterns designed to keep the ailing system functioning as smoothly as it can under the circumstances. The patterns become second nature, part of our basic survival mechanisms which we carry through into all our subsequent situations.

Non-communication and secrecy

Because dysfunctional families believe they are dependent upon their patterns to survive, it becomes the unwritten rule not to talk about feelings. It only brings up pain, which the family feels is unsolvable. When dysfunction occurs in a subsequent group there is the same tendency to avoid speaking about it and the same feeling of futility about being able to change anything. This may make us want to drop out of the group, blame everyone else, and do almost anything but communicate.

Anger and fear

As a result of the lack of communication, the child is left with a constant level of anger and fear, which becomes normal and is later exacerbated by any situation which threatens to mimic the original.

When you have a group of people who carry left over anger, that anger gets triggered easily, making the group a potentially volatile medium. The anger may or may not be justified in the present circumstance, but likely as not the vehemence of the anger is greater than the situation deserves because it is in part a carryover from childhood.
The force or frequency of the anger may obscure its rightful cause and the end result is frustration for all concerned.

Competition

The dysfunctional family operates within a model of scarcity -- that there is a limited amount of love, time, money, food, clothing, safety, etc. The members of the family learn that all of these things must be earned through competition. Rather than developing means of working together, family members pit themselves against each other. Competitiveness exacerbates all of the problems listed here and is easy to spot in group situations. As we strive towards collectivity, competition polarity undermines our more benevolent
ideologies.

Group members may feel like they don't get enough time or appreciation (usually true) or feel they have to compete with each other to get a word in edgewise, to perform as well as others or to jockey for a power position.

Unequal power structures

Most dysfunctional families of the previous generation operated within the Patriarchal Power Model: The father had the most power, the mother was dependent upon him, and the children dependent upon her. Her powerlessness with regard to her husband was compensated for through her power over her children. The children were powerless against their parents and sought to make pecking orders among themselves and their peers. Because we learned to operate within unequal power structures we are often incapable of perceiving anything other. We either believe these dynamics are in play when they are not, or we strive to create them by our own actions so that we may remain in familiar realms. One -down or one-up power positions may be familiar -- equality may not be. In the familiar our roles are defined; in new territory, we have to feel our way, and feeling our way is what we once learned not to do.

Dependence

Because no one was allowed their own power for fear they might rock the fragile boat, what developed was the shadow of power -- dependence. Each member of the system became dependent upon people and behaviors they didn't feel good about This manifests later in people being terrified to let go of destructive patterns, behavior which may seem baffling to an outsider.

Guilt and shame

All the previous qualities, especially the latter one, result in individuals within the system feeling an indefinable sense of guilt and shame. Powerless, dependent, fearful and angry, the emotions are funneled into the subconscious through secrecy. The end feeling is one of malaise, low self-esteem and lack of trust, with an underlayer of shame.

Lack of Trust

Lack of trust is the end result and continuing state of the dysfunctional family survivor. It both causes and increases all of the above.

In addition to these characteristics, members of dysfunctional family systems resort to taking on roles within the family that allow the system to be tolerable. These roles are played right through adulthood and are especially prominent in group situations.

ROLES WITHIN THE DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY (and replicated in a group setting)

1. The Good Child
   Tries to transcend the malaise of the environment by behaving like an angel. The Good Child takes on adult responsibility at a young age, strives to excel at everything, takes on other people's problems and generally compensates for feelings of inferiority with a drive to accomplish and prove themselves. When this takes the form of parenting younger children, the child becomes "parentified" and plays out the "higher-powered" parent role in later relationships. In group situations, the Good Child takes on too much responsibility, disallowing the empowerment of others. They run things, but without much joy or satisfaction. The Good Child can get self-righteous or persecutory if they are feeling unappreciated.
2. The Problem Child
   Is the circuit breaker for the wiring of the family dynamics. The Problem Child (in therapy, often the "identified patient") does poorly in school, gets into trouble, turns to drugs, gets pregnant or otherwise causes problems that take focus away from the family problems. The child does not do this consciously, but is driven by her own intolerable sensitivity. In group situations the Problem Member role may dance among a few people. They are often in crisis, which distracts the group from moving forward. There is more permission to leave in a group than there is in a family, and the Problem Child may do just that Then the group may then find that problems suddenly pop up in another member. This is also true for
3. The Scapegoat
   If the Problem Child does not leave, they may serve another function in the system: The Scapegoat. The Scapegoat (not always synonymous with the Problem Child) is the one who gets the blame for the dysfunctional system. ("Johnny causes such problems, I can't get anything done.") The group itself is rarely able to perceive that their whole way of functioning is ailing and instead puts all their anger into scapegoating, which, of course, increases the problems. The Scapegoat may be the newest group member, the group leader, the editor of a newsletter, or the one who generally has the most problems with the group process. Like the Problem Child, they may choose to leave; but another person will quickly become the Scapegoat in their place:
4. The Clown
   Keeps himself and the family distracted by playing the entertainer. The Clown denies that there is any problem, gets attention for himself through bringing some joviality into a grim situation, and keeps the emotional pain at a tolerable level. Later in life the Clown is still distracting group process, often getting strokes for it because they do alleviate a dreary situation, yet they prevent true work from being accomplished. They're the ones we can't live with, and can't live without.
5. The Fixer
   Sometimes the same as the Good Child, the Fixer is constantly trying to smooth things out. They become a Codependent -- one who is fixated on solving others' problems in a way that ignores their own and allows the others to continue in self-destructive behavior. No group would be complete without them, they are often seen as the group's savior, yet their fixing is more like an aspirin than a cure.
6. The Ghost
   Is the Hidden One, the child who tries to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, is withdrawn, never asks for anything for himself, is neither seen nor heard, and is often confused with the Good Child, except he is not competitive. This type of person is less likely to join groups, but if they do, they are quiet and unobtrusive, or they may do their disappearing act after they have volunteered for something.
   

The patterns that occur are as many and varied as the people we are. The mistake comes from focusing too much on the individual roles, and failing to see the dynamics of the system as a whole. We can focus on the plight of the poor Scapegoat, or the burden on the Fixer, but we tend to focus on an individual, through the lens of our own roles, instead of learning to think as a system.

In a family or group system, everything affects everything else. Scapegoat or Clown, Leader or Ghost, the whole system is affected by each action and presence (or absence). Those who obviously have power are no more important than those who appear to have less power, and all have equal ability to topple the system. To think systemically we need to step back, look at what the group is trying to accomplish, what roles are necessary to accomplish this goal, and how those roles compare with the current ones being played out.

• What is your group's purpose?
• Can you get it down to a few words?
• Does everyone in the group agree on the purpose?
• Is your purpose multiple? (If so, each purpose may dictate different roles.)
• Or is the group trying to achieve a secondary purpose that is unstated, such as a group whose purpose is working magic while also trying to act as a support group?
• Does it work or does it put the group at cross-purposes?
• Is your personal reason for being in the group in keeping with its collective purpose?
  

Starhawk in Truth or Dare, describes four main types of groups; intimate groups, whose purpose is "being"; task groups, whose purpose is "doing"; support groups, whose purpose is "changing"; and learning groups whose purpose is "education". Purposes may overlap, but when they get crossed, such as learning groups who try to make people change, there may be some covert manipulation going on to which members have not all agreed.

• What are the needs of the group as a whole compared to needs of the individuals within the group?
• What is your role in the group. both officially and non-officially?
• Is this the role you want?
• Is it the same role you played as a child?
• What are the roles of some of the other members?
• How did they get these roles and how do they feel about it? (Ask, don't assume.)
• How is power handled/distributed?
  

Living in a society that has, by and large, unhealthy power models, the handling of power within a group is often the basis for conflict Our first experiences of power were in relationship to our parents and teachers. If this was negative it will affect how we behave when in a position of power ourselves or how we respond to those who are in powerful or leadership positions. Ideally power and leadership should not be synonymous, though it is often hard for people, no matter what their role, to remember that leadership, because of its parental overtones, is a touchy issue in groups.

The leaders of a group usually receive the parental projections of the group members. For those who were abused by their parents' authority much anger may be projected against the leaders or founders of a group, undermining their ability to do their job.
For those who act in the role of leaders, internalized family dynamics may lead to an abuse of their power. Their only model may have been power-over.

This may be entirely unconscious,in which case effective communication and feedback from the group needs to be offered and received. Internalized shame may make the group leader need a lot of encouragement, while the group may be resisting a projected power-over situation instead and undermine the leader's confidence.

Are the same people always the leaders?
Is this appropriate or can the roles be rotated?

The other end of the spectrum from leaders, who have usually been in the group a long time, are the newcomers. Newcomers run the greatest risk of becoming the Scapegoat, because they are the least incorporated into the system and the least knowledgeable about its unspoken rules and agreements. Newcomers and leaders alike get the largest doses of tack of trust and often have their competitive urges triggered by having to prove themselves. If and when they do prove themselves, the role is then defined and the next step is dependence upon that role.

Variation in dynamics in family and group situations is endless. Being conscious of these dynamics goes a long way towards avoiding traps. Understanding your own family dynamics is invaluable, as communicating current group dynamics (as you perceive them) is essential.

The best way to avoid roles is, ironically, to assign them.

A consultant is a Fixer, but recognized, respected, and usually paid for their position.

The Ghost who watches everything and says little can be sought out and given a role as a vibes-watcher.

The Clown can be given special time for entertainment and group diversion-time where they can get strokes for their humor, and the group can be treated to an enjoyable break.

The Problem Child can be given the role of problem solver, thus taking the focus off them and onto the group, wherein the dysfunction lies anyway.

The competitive Good Child can be given a reward for their good work by asking them to help newcomers or people who are struggling in the group.

The Scapegoat can be put in an honored position where they have no responsibility and then the next time something goes wrong, it can't be their fault! (Though in truth, the only real way to absolve the Scapegoat is for group members to deal with their own shadows.) "

Many thanks to Judith Anodea for this magnificent outline of the dysfunctional family. The text above is subject to Copyright © 1996 by Anodea Judith. from Green Egg, vol.22, no.87, Samhain, 1989, pages 6 through 8.

Keep On Moving

I hate bike riding!

No, seriously! I had the bright idea to ride my bike over the bridge into the city yesterday and half way there I was ready to walk the rest of the way. I mean going down hill is great, it's the up hill part I can't stand.

As I pumped away at about 2 miles per hour, the back of my legs began to burn and sweat broke out on my forehead even though it was about 50 degrees outside. I looked up and I couldn't even see the end of the bridge, that's how big the incline was!

I thought to myself, "Forget it, I'm getting off this bike. I'll walk it up the hill and ride the rest of the way down" but the part of me that hates to admit defeat said, "Oh, no, you're going to ride up that hill! It's just a little bit more, just concentrate."

Well, it was terrible but I did do it! About ten minutes later I was sailing down a tree lined block and feeling the cool gust of wind caress my face and then it hit me - another aha moment!

Just a few minutes ago I was on that hill in excruciating pain, wanting desperately to be somewhere else and now, at that very moment, I was someplace else. It seemed surreal to me. I thought to myself, "Whenever something is painful, or hard - if it's good for me, all I've got to do is hold on." If I can hold on, before I know it I'll be someplace else, some place different, better and I'll be stronger, too!

MORAL OF THE STORY: KEEP ON MOVING!

Cross When It's Green Not In Between

A couple of years ago I was seeing a different therapist than the one I'm seeing now and I related to her what I deemed as an *idea* moment I had a couple of days before our session.

I was standing on the sidewalk in the middle of a big intersection leading onto a highway. The cars were zooming by just inches in front of me, and I had the thought that if I just stuck my foot out and stepped into the street, I would be dead in an instant, my whole life would be over.

My therapist jumped in, alarmed that I had suicidal thoughts but I begged her to let me continue.

I continued to ponder this while the cars raced passed me. Then the light changed and all the cars stopped. The sign turned to green, and people started to cross the street. What had just moments before been a very dangerous place to be was now safe. But in the next couple of minutes, it would once again be just as dangerous.

And I thought to myself: This is what life is like. Life is all about knowing when to it is safe to move and knowing when to stop when it is not safe.
Life is about knowing when to act and knowing when to be still.

I spent a lot of time thinking about that moment of clarity that I had a few years ago and it is just as relevant in my life now as it was then.

The Narcissist and the Banana Peel

A woman walks into the house limping, holding a banana peel in her hand.
Her husband is sitting at the table with a half eaten banana in front of him and a bunch of groceries in a bag. He has obviously just come in from the grocery store.

“God, Honey, you missed the garbage on the way in; I think I might have broken my ankle.”

“What?” he says, looking up innocently.

“I just slipped on this banana peel and I think I might have broken my ankle.” She holds up the banana peel.

“So why did you say You missed the garbage on the way in"? He asks mockingly.

“Well," She begins slowly, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach, "Because you just came in from the grocery store.”

“So, what does that have to do with missing the garbage?”

“Because,” she begins again, with a sigh. “I just fell and this banana peel was on the floor on the walk way and you just came in with a bag of groceries, so I just thought –“

“Wait a minute. So just because there’s banana peel on the walk way that means I must have deliberately put it there so you can fall?”

“No one said anything about it being deliberate. I’m sure it was an accident. I mean, there's a half eaten banana right there in front of you! I just asked if you missed the garbage, that’s all.”

“But that’s the problem, isn't it? You didn’t ask. If you had asked, I would have said Yeah, I probably did but you come in here yelling and screaming and attacking me, and no one wants to hear that shit early in the morning.”

“Yelling and screaming?” She asks confused. “I didn’t come in here yelling and screaming. I didn’t say anything but that I had fallen in the walk way and now you’re switching everything around and making it into something else!”

“I’m switching everything around? What about you? What are you doing? First you said you slipped and now you say you fell. Well, which is it, did you slip or did you fall? Well, come on! I don’t hear an answer."

"My God, babe, what difference does it make whether I said slip or fall, isn't it the same thing?"

"It's not the same thing and if you had ever spent a day in a college classroom you would know that. You’re just afraid to own up to the fact that you’re doing exactly what you’re accusing me of. It’s the same thing with you day in, day out.”

“Honey,” she begins, with tears in her eyes, “Look, I’m sorry. My ankle is throbbing and I’m worried that it might be broken. I don’t want to fight with you. You’re right, I should have asked instead of yelling at you. Can you take a look at it and see if it’s okay.” She extends her foot in his direction.

“You know, I just don’t know how to feel right now. You come in here, yelling and screaming at me, accusing me of something so silly. I mean, I’m human, I’m not perfect. If the banana peel slipped out of my hand and fell on the floor without me knowing it that doesn’t mean that I’m responsible for your broken ankle. And now you want me to look at it like I’m some doctor or something! I mean, how the hell am I supposed to know if it’s broken or not? You know, I just can’t take this anymore! You’re always riding me about this or that and it’s just getting to the point of being ridiculous. How can a person live this way? How would you feel, if every time you turned around someone was yelling at you, and accusing you of things? Wouldn’t it bother you? I mean, damn, honey, I’m only human.”

“But that’s how I feel. I came in here hurt and you didn’t even consider the fact that maybe the banana peel fell or something. I just don’t know how –“

He stands up, and heads towards the door. “You’re not even listening to a word I’ve said, are you?

He opens the door to leave but before he does, he turns around and says, “I suggest you start thinking about how you speak to me, start thinking about maybe asking questions instead of accusing. You know, asking nicely instead of shrieking and then maybe, just maybe we won’t have another one of these ghastly mornings.”

Coming soon, The Narcissist and the Empty Gas Tank. Read on, as the spouse asks very carefully and very nicely why the gas tank in the car is empty, just as she was instructed to but amazingly has to go through the same thing!!!!!!

Something IS Wrong

Imagine walking into a bank. An eerie silence fills the room and you notice, too late -- after the door closes behind you that something is very wrong.

You can feel it in your bones. Everyone SEEMS to be okay. Everyone seems to be conducting business as usual but you just can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

Too late, you catch a glimps of a masked man behind the counter with a gun nudged into the back of one of the tellers. Your heart starts to accelerate and you turn around, frantically looking at the others in the bank, wondering if they've seen what you've seen.

You want to do something, get out of there, anything to be safe. You start to head out the door but the obliviousness of everyone else makes you stop.

Every one in the bank is just going about their business as usual!

You make eye contact with the security guard and he nods his head, indicating -- you think -- that he understands; that he's seen what you've seen. You start to breath a sigh of relief but instead he says:

"It's okay! Everything is just fine. Why are you panicing?"

All of a sudden you wonder if you're okay? Are you hallucinating? You must be, because everyone else seems fine. It must be you! What else could it be? How could you be the only one who notices something is wrong?

This is my illustration of what a child who grows up in a home where there is dysfunction and abuse experiences. I believe we're born with great instincts so that we actually feel inside when something is wrong. But a child who hasn't developed enough self esteem and trust in himself doesn't have the strength of conviction to argue against the alterred reality that an abusive parent presents them with. Plus, they have to first dispel the notion that this person who is supposed to love and care for them is out and out lying to them and denying their reality.
It's a tough call, one I think most children resolve by deciding either one or a combination of three things:

They decide that what they sense and feel is wrong and that whatever the parent says is happening is true and right;

They decide that they are responsible for what's wrong since everyone else seems to be oblivious to it; and since they're responsible, they decide that they can fix it;

They decide that the feeling that something is wrong is not a valid feeling and so they ignore their gut feelings and accept the situation for what it seems to be. They convince themselves that things are okay.

I came to this conclusion after having an argument with my children's father while my son was around. During the argument I was livid and there was no calming me down and in the midst of all the chaos my son came into the room. What he did was very telling.

First, he tried to distract me. He tried to show me a drawing he had made in school. Since I was not about to be deterred from what I was saying I put him off.

Second, he tried to comfort me. He sat on my lap. He hugged me and tried to engage me in conversation.

Third, he went into his room and sat down quietly. You should have seen his little, worried face. It seemed to ask"What's wrong? What's happening? Am I going to be okay?"

Fourth, he came directly to me and asked: "Are you mad at Daddy?"

Now, imagine if I had responded "No, I'm not" or in some shape or form denied his reality; imagine all the questions in his mind that would have been left unanswered, the resulting self-doubt, paranoia, the need to fix, the desire to act out or the resignation to accept whatever might come to pass? So many things!!

I tried to comfort him as best as I could, recognizing that it was a mistake on my part to argue in front of him in the first place. And I'm sane. I'm responsible for my actions. I am interested in his welfare and compassionate and empathetic. Imagine if I wasn't?

This proved to be an eye-opening experience because I could clearly make the connection between what a child in such under those circumstances would feel; how if left unattended to he/she would take those feelings and turn them against him/herself, resulting in a compulsion to try to compensate for other people's shortcomings throughout his adulthood.

I still deal with the over-developed sense of responsibility; the need to "fix" the probelms around me; the paranoia that I've done something wrong. I still live with the feeling that everyone around me knows something I don't. I live with an internal fear that if I don't conform I will be shunned. I worry that others won't like me if I ask for things for myself.

And these fears come together, culminating, in my mind, to a belief hat you cannot want for yourself; that you must compromise your ideals, your desires and your needs in order to have a relationship. I've grown up believing that I am here to serve others. I want love at all costs. I am willing to sacrifice much in order to receive very little.

But peace at any cost is no peace at all and you know, the concept is the same: Conditional love is really no love at all.

Sowing the Seeds of Love

Sowing The Seeds of Love ~ Tears for Fear

High time we made a stand & shook up the views of the common man
And the love train rides from coast to coast
DJ's the man we love the most
Could you be, could you be squeaky clean
And smash any hope of democracy?
As the headline says you're free to choose -
There's egg on your face and mud on your shoes!!!
One of these days they're gonna call it the blues, yeahhhh

(Sowing the seeds of love)

Anything is possible
(Seeds of love)

when you're sowing the seeds of love
(Sowing the seeds of love)X2

Anything is possible

(Seeds of love)

sowing the seeds of love

(Sowing the seeds)

I spy tears in their eyes
They look to the skies for some kind of divine intervention -
Food goes to waste, so nice to eat, so nice to taste.
Politician Granny, with your high ideals,
have you no idea how the majority feels?

(You're) so without love and a promised land.
We're fools to the rules of a government plan.
Kick out the style, bring back the jam !!!

(Sowing the seeds of love)

Anything
(seeds of love)

(Sowing the seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love)

Sowing the seeds,
the birds and the bees,
my girlfriend and me . . . in love

Feel the pain ---- Talk about it;

if you're a worried man ---- then shout about it!

Open hearts ---- feel about it!!

Open minds ---- think about it!!

Everyone ----- Read about it!!!

Everyone ----- Scream about it!!!

Everyone (everyone, yeah yeah)
Everyone (everyone)
READ ABOUT IT !!!!
READ ABOUT IT !!!!

Read it in the books, in the crannies and the nooks there are books to read!!!!

(Sowing the seeds of love) Oh, the seeds of love
We're sowing the seeds, sowing the seeds

We're sowing the seeds of love. we're sowing the seeds
Sowing the seeds of love, we're sowing the seeds of love
(Mr. England sowing the seeds of love)

(IT'S) TIME
TO EAT ALL YOUR WORDS
SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE
OPEN YOUR EYES

(IT'S) TIME
TO EAT ALL YOUR WORDS
SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE
OPEN YOUR EYES

High time, we made a stand . . .
(time to eat all your words)
And shook up the views of the common man . . .
(swallow your pride)
And the love train rides from coast to coast . . .
(open your eyes)
Every minute of every hour "I Love a Sunflower" . . .
(open your eyes)
And I believe in love power , . . .(open your eyes)
Love power, lovvvvvveeeeeee (open your eyes) power !!!!!!

(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love…Sowing the seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love)
We're sowing the seeds (sowing the seeds of love)
Sowing the seeds of love, we're sowing the seeds (seeds of love)

Sowing the seeds, an end to need, and the politics of greed . . . with love

(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love, sowing the seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds of love)

anything

(seeds of love)
anything

(Sowing the seeds of love, Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds, an end to need, and the politics of greed with love)
(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love, sowing the seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love, sowing the seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love, sowing the seeds of love)
(Sowing the seeds of love, seeds of love)

How to Handle a Liar

Here are some tips for dealing with a situation in which you are doubting someone close to you (e.g., your partner, your child, your friend):

1. Make sure your suspicions are valid: i.e., that you have some evidence that makes you doubt the other person's character.
   

2. 
   Think of reasonable alternative explanations that might explain his discrepancies in a positive manner (e.g., maybe he has been secretive because he's planning a surprise party for you). This does not mean that you know this to be true. At this stage of your suspicions you are drawing a mental range. At one end of the range, he or she is deceitful and dishonest -- someone you need to write off. At the other end of the range, he or she is a decent person who is planning a surprise for you or has understandable and rational explanations for the discrepancies. You are trying to identify where this person falls along this range.
   

3. 
   Don't accept vague answers to your questions. Rephrase and repeat each question until you get answers that make sense, until you gain clarity. Fine-tune your questions to the specific concerns you have. Don't apologize for asking questions (e.g., `I was just wondering…" `I don't mean to be nosy but..."). Be confident (`I am disturbed by...").
   

4. 
   Don't let the other person shift your focus to self-doubt. When people try to get away with something, they become masters at shifting the focus away from themselves and focusing it on the questioner's vulnerabilities. They often try to induce self-doubt and unearned guilt in their victims. (Many politicians are experts at this.) Don't fall into this trap. If you doubt your own mind it will mentally paralyze you. If you believe the motor in your car is not working, you will give up trying to use it. If you think your own motor, your mind, is broken, you may also give up. The result? Depression.
   

5. 
   Be aware that if the other person is guilty of doing something underhanded, then he or she has methods to cover this up. What methods? Such people minimize or deny their own behavior. They may try to case you out. They figure out what you want to hear and tell you just that, to throw you off the trail of their deceit. Be one step ahead of them by knowing their typical methods.
   

6. 
   Ask yourself how you would answer someone asking you the same question if he found discrepancies in your words or actions and you were innocent. What tone would you use? How would you clarify any misunderstandings? Then compare this to his behavior. Is he behaving as you would behave if you were innocent? Or is he behaving as a deceitful, crafty person would behave?
   

7. 
   Don't be afraid of mental effort. The feeling of self-confidence, "I have a right to make sense of my world," and the willingness to clearly think things through earns you a sense of inner confidence and gives you a means to deal with others – it's the best help for anxiety and depression.
   

When you have doubts about another person's character, you want to hold your own head up high and respect your own mind. Instead of passively drowning in "what-ifs" with no clear answers, you become a fact-finder par excellence. You know you have a right to the truth and you have a right to pursue contradictions in another person's words or behavior until you can make sense of them.

If you have this mindset you will be much less vulnerable to anxiety and self-doubt. You will know that you have a right to make sense of your world, to pursue the truth and to act accordingly. Then even if you find out bad news, that the person you care for (a husband, a child, a friend, a boss) has been deceitful, has drug or alcohol problems, is gambling, etc., you can manage this truth so much better – because you will assess him rather than damn yourself. You will not be swallowed up by self-doubts.