So cool, to be able to make the “Thriller” announcement that Why Bother? Because Self-Help is Never Stupid hit #1 on Amazon in Self-Help, and holds Best Seller status.
BIG THANKS to the supporters!
More thrilling is that this means the book is fulfilling its purpose, which is to help others, once and for all, make peace with demons of the past.
One reader, Chris from Florida, had this to say — “The words and the musical journey are amazing. I have been fighting demons for years and years but for the first time, I can say that I have peace with the demons, thanks to the soul sharing of this author.”
Conquering demons, now I find that not just a thriller, that’s a Supernatural Thriller.
Some may judge the use of a Michael Jackson song since he was accused of child molestation, which obviously is something I advocate against. I am choosing not to judge. His case is a mind-boggling dichotomy and a conundrum; a prime example of the maddening duality we live in.
We don’t know the whole truth. Was he a molester, or was he trapped in his child-like Neverland fantasy? Was he making up for his own lost, dysfunctional childhood? Was he also a victim? Was he groomed? Did he do it?
If he did molest, clearly that is wrong. It’s confusing because he brought such beauty, light, and love to the world both through his music, and his humanitarian efforts. There are lots of predators out there who want to take our money any way they can get it. Imagine what fame and fortune presented to someone like Michael.
Heart-Centered Conscious awareness makes us question the Lynch mob. Conscious awareness is heart-centered, but integrated. It can help us get out of the self-defeating denial program of pretending we don’t know that our answers are inside of us. It helps us step into the truth of what we do know. Michael Jackson’s story is one where awareness, challenges what we do and don’t know. There are always at least two sides to every story. Things are never just one way, and appearance can be deceiving.
I admit my humanness when I do judge, as when I hear the testimony of Archbishop Robert Carlson regarding the allegations of abuse against him.
From his testimony: “I’m not sure whether I knew it was a crime or not.”
When asked when he first realized it was a crime for an adult, including priests, to have sex with a child, Carlson said, “I don’t remember.”
Are you f-ing kidding me? Um…excuse me… shouldn’t someone in the position of being a moral leader have a clear definition of this rather than be promoted to a higher position of authority? Pulling the “I don’t know,” “I don’t remember,” card is blatant B.S., and makes me pissed-off.
Those words are PTSD triggers for me, because they have been used against me challenging my own elephant-like memory. My awareness tells me that experiencing words of ignorance, are being divinely offered as gentle reminders to in turn offer comforting words to others. While there may be an emotional charge on the triggers, they only show-up, so I can show the support and compassion that I never experienced from my family.
When words are conveyed to me like, “Who’s to say what or where you’d be if your childhood had been different? Would you have the courage you have now?” Um…you mean where would I be if I didn’t have to battle the demons of distraction caused by trauma of sexual abuse nearly every single day for the last 40 years? I may be winning because I took my life back, but I still battle. I’ve battled many demons, and more than one kind. No wonder, I am such a huge Supernatural (CW Network-TV show) fan. I hear horror stories of what others have endured, much like my own, which is why I choose to stand up and speak up. What does it say when someone defends an offender?
Learning to be the observer has taught me many things. Now, I can test for responses to help me transform my own beast-like demons into something of light and beauty. After being triggered, well maybe just prompted by universal wisdom, I asked my mother if she understood that sex-offenders go to jail for a reason? She said, “I don’t know.” One of my abusers is more a part of the family than I am, which is why I am in a self-imposed exile.
There were several more questions regarding sexual offenses to which she responded “I don’t know.” So I said, “Well you do understand laws are created for a reason, right?” She still responded with, “I don’t know.” Interesting since she had been robbed recently, having the police to her home several times, and she admitted to feeling violated. Interesting, really interesting, considering she and my sister say as a child, “I was just taken advantage of.” Consciousness offers the recognition that she is trapped in the mind of a three-year-old.
Knowing her own entrapment, allows me to deal with emotions like betrayal, lack of support, lack of safety, mistrust, feeling unloved, and more, even if they never completely go away, and even if a typical three-year-old know the difference between right and wrong. I can take comfort in knowing the family’s inability to offer true love and support, is not about me. Rather than mourn what I don’t have, I can allow myself to be alive in the presence of truth, rather than part of The Walking Dead (AMC-TV show).
Funny because in that conversation with my mother, I asked, “Are you at all proud of me at all for standing up for myself?” Again, she said, “I don’t know.” I really, really try to avoid drama, but the universe likes to offer me revelation and humor. I get a desperate call from my mother at 5:45 am, my time. She’s wanting to know where my daughter is, to which I replied, “in bed, why?” She replied, “Are you sure, because I just got a call from her saying she was arrested in New York.” It was a scam. I told her to report it to the police. Then she proceeded to tell me she wasn’t sure if she should call me because the person on the phone that my mother continued to identify as my daughter, told her not to tell anyone. Mother couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that as a minor, the police would have had to call me regarding any matter concerning my child. While the fact that someone tried to scam her isn’t funny, the allegory is. After reporting it to the police, she called me back, and said, “the police officer told me I should be Proud of myself for thinking it might be scam, and I AM.” I just smiled and chuckled to myself, “I’m so glad you are proud of yourself, Mom, because you sure aren’t capable of being proud of me standing up for 24% of the population.” The story offers a small glimpse of the extend of the dysfunction I was raised in.
Come on, it’s Halloween! Celebrate! Watch the Thriller video, again and again. Get up and dance a few times.
~Turn what was once maniacal into something magical~ martha du’sage