BOOK THREE: TRAVEL SERIES WINTERING IN NEVADA (WIN) Changing Money Patterns FOREWORD Our 35 ft. Holiday Rambler, Travel Series books, Joanie and Little Ralph, Changing Money Patterns FLASHBACK Money Lessons, at the slots, while spending four days at Harrah's Hotel-Casino with Van's Mom. CHAPTER 1 Life Can be Fun! Luxury of Riverside Full Hookup RV Park: Electricity, Cable TV, Fun, Food, Writing, Business CHAPTER 2 Is This All There Is? Moving on, Shopping, Burger King, Avi, Gold River,Olympics Closing Celebration, More Fun and Food CHAPTER 3 Money Matters Living within income, Spending Plan, Keeping Numbers, God is the Source, but family helps out, new money patterns and new attitudes, Still Having Fun CHAPTER 4 The Big Storm Bible quote, Abundance Here and Now, New World of Possibilities, "Dear God, I Believe, Oneness,Ultimate Purpose CHAPTER 5 Home is Where the Heart Is CHAPTER 6 "Ashes To Ashes And Dust To Dust" Vietnam War Memorial, Steve's Personal Vietnam Story CHAPTER 7 "The Fields Are Already White With Harvest" CHAPTER 8 Reaching Out as Love Van and Joyanna's Love Concepts,Parent Love Concepts, Love Pattern Changes CHAPTER 9 Since We're Neighbors, Let's be Friends More Socialable. Joanie and Little Ralph--Fun! FOREWORD For the past year, my husband, Van, and I had been traveling in our 35 ft. Holiday Rambler RV, we named Freedom; purchased in a February snowstorm in Lakewood, Colorado, from our son-in-law, Steve, who sold RV's for a dealership. Now, we were wintering at Laughlin, Nevada, a gambling resort along the Colorado River, and our inner kids, Joanie and Little Ralph, were having fun at the casinos; not gambling, but enjoying the buffets and entertainment; and we'd been walking along the Riverwalk and riding the free shuttles, and seeing God's wonders in the scenery and sunsets. But, in order to attend some live shows and otherwise increase our entertainment spending, we must eliminate the monthly cost of parking in the reasonably priced casino RV Park and move to the free parking lots at the Gold River Casino. In the meantime, we had fun. The opportunity for us, this time in Laughlin, became Changing Money Patterns (the title of a book I'd written in the past, but an ongoing challenge), and also changing attitudes. What better place for God to give us these lessons than a gambling resort, with all its temptations to succumb to whatever addiction may beckon, such as money disorders, which is ours; a disease-type symptom resulting from childhood issues. So Joanie and Little Ralph are now learning that life is more than fun; it's also taking responsibility for money matters, and learning to live harmoniously with each other, as well as in the community, and the world. I'd already finished Book One Joanie and Little Ralph; on the Road, the adventures of our first trip in our home-on-wheels, when we journeyed to Oregon, California and Washington visiting family and friends. As we traveled, God gave us experiences about it's main theme, living in the Present Moment, which at times were challenging, but memorable. And Book Two, Joanie and Little Ralph Moving on, about our travels to Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada and California had taken their place in our memories. During the upcoming month, I would be writing Book Three in my Travel Series, Joanie and Little Ralph; Wintering in Nevada (WIN), about changing patterns, while living on our Social Security retirement in Laughlin, a gambling resort town along the Colorado River. And I would be printing out several of my past creations, based on my ministry-by-mail with Freedomers (inmates seeking inner freedom). And I would be updating books about our respective recovery programs: mine from codependency and Van's from underearning; both resulting from the patterns that evolved from living in our dysfunctional families. In addition, we were both working to heal our inner kids, Joanie and Little Ralph, who were now enjoying life as RVers. But, for now, we were staying put in Laughlin for most of January, February and March, until the El Nino weather settled down. Now, I must hasten to add that we always travel "as Spirit guides us," and we've been strongly guided toward following the above itinerary. However, it is always subject to change without notice as we receive Updated Instructions from our Inner Tour Guide. FLASHBACK THE UNINTERRUPTED STREAM The following chapter was excerpted from On the Road, when originally occured, and placed here, because the Money Lessons seemed to fit into this format. The events actually took place a month before this book begins. Second Chance "Prosperity flows through me as an uninterrupted stream, eliminating everything that is unlike it." This affirmation came to life during my Magnificent Expression program in Colorado, and surfaced again as I sat at the Second Chance Poker slot with a bucketful of quarter-rolls. It's become a tradition to meet Betty, Ralph's mom, at Harrah's Casino in Laughlin, Nv., a gambling resort overlooking the Colorado River and barren jagged mountains in this desert setting, the week before Christmas. So we parked Freedom in the free parking lot, and then checked into our room, as Betty's guest, for four days at Harrah's Hotel-Casino. When on my own, I seldom gamble, and then I only play the nickel-slots, and go through my $2.00 roll in record time. But as Betty's guest, she enjoyed my company at the quarter slots, and advanced the additional playing money as a bonus (Ralph doesn't gamble). "Be sure you use the five-quarter-limit," Ralph's mother said, "and let me know when you need more." Talk about "Unlimited Supply." Now, with Betty's generosity, I felt I could forget all sense of limitation and simply enjoy playing the game. I eyed a poker game machine, and plunked in five quarters, as it played a pleasant welcoming tune. Nice. These computerized slots make it so easy to spend money, but complicated to understand. Every time I pressed deal, I got a new hand before I could play. "What's happening?" I asked. Ralph, who stood nearby, explained, "You don't need to press deal, it automatically deals your first hand." "How convenient." I began playing my cards, and soon the Second Chance program kicked-in. While Ralph explained that I now had another opportunity to win with five more quarters, the indicator erased and flashed "Game Over." Betty looked over and explained, "You have to move fast, because it's timed to start a new game if you don't add the quarters." That's Gambling I'd now wasted several dollars while learning this computerized version of slots, and voiced my concern. But Betty reassured me "Don't worry about it. It's part of gambling. You have to spend money to win money. There are lose cycles and win cycles, so just play through till you win." Whew! What a concept. I could feel myself letting go the guilt and fear of spending, and the "bad girl" concepts, as I adjusted to the idea of unlimited supply. Now I could simply play and enjoy the game. "Life's like that," I thought. I know that God is Infinite Supply, and there's an "Uninterrupted Stream" always available. It's up to us to tap into it. So what's in the way of my doing that?" I continued asking myself that question during the three days at Laughlin. Ralph's visit with his mom took place during mealtimes, where another Uninterrupted Stream lesson unfolded. Betty pays $7.00 for two sets of Keno cards with her predetermined numbers. She plays every game -- win or lose -- until she's finished her meal and visit. Some meals were no win, and she played with as much gusto as if winning. "That's gambling," she says, "stay through the cycles, and keep your winnings separate." She had a set amount for gambling, and then enjoyed the games. Win Some; Lose Some I'd been watching the Keno numbers each meal, but my favorite hadn't appeared, so I waited. Finally, the third day produced a run of my numbers, so I ventured my play money using the grouping method. Sure enough, I won a small amount each game. Betty, on the other hand, played through several meals without a win, but finally won more than she'd lost. I kept asking myself. "There's a lesson to be learned here, but what is it?" Several times my casino bucket reached bottom, and Betty filled it with more quarter-rolls. On my winning-day we sat at a table-top slot while waiting for Ralph, who had the bucket-of-money. Betty reached over and put a $20.00 bill into the machine. Oh, this new-fangled gambling. All you do is press the buttons, and play until your credits are used. Your hands don't even get dirty from the coins. The Sound of 240 Quarters Earlier I'd watched someone win three 7's, and I'd said, "I'd just like to see what it's like to do that on my machine. Now, as I complained about "never winning," I looked in amazement at the three 7's on my machine -- 240 quarters! When Ralph arrived, we gleefully shared the news. Betty announced her bedtime, so I pushed the cash-out button and listened to the sound of 240 quarters in my tray this time. Such a good sound! Tapping the Uninterrupted Stream My consciousness of the Uninterrupted Stream of Infinite Supply had been tapped. But our four days soon ended, and we drove to San Diego County to spend the holidays with my family in California, before returning to Laughlin. At this time, my stepmother gave me the second (of three) checks, as part of the legacy from my dad's estate. This inheritance had made possible our current lifestyle, on the road, in the flow of the Uninterrupted Stream. MORE BELOW |
Chapter 1 LIFE CAN BE FUN! A Daily Routine of Fun Having taken the first steps of getting hooked up, and established in our upgraded lifestyle at the Riverside RV Park, life took on a pleasurable balance of daily living and fun, with our view overlooking the Colorado River, desert and mountains, plus our jaunts through the casinos and along the Riverwalk. A basic routine evolved: a balance between ministry, family, and fun that was working quite nicely for getting things done and giving me satisfaction and accomplishment, in addition to enjoying the bounties of life in Laughlin. What Fun Shall we Have Today? Each day, I took advantage of Van's morning routine (which requires several hours) to handle my creative writing as well as my personal and ministry writing. Then, after he'd completed his various daily projects, we would handle our togetherness plans. Sometimes this meant walking to Riverside Casino to the post office, or to the RV office. Other times we took off to the movies, or for our daily treats. Super Bowl Sunday On Super Bowl Sunday (1998), as we awaited the Big Game between the Denver Broncos (our Colorado family's team) and the Greenbay Packers, I completed my priority projects, then came to a stopping place. I made a potato salad for our snacking, along with cheese and crackers. I'd wondered if we should go to the casino and get hot dogs, but decided that would be off-purpose for this day. Instead, we created our own Super Bowl Party with my homemade nachos. With the food handled, Van settled down to watch the game, which was important for Little Ralph's enjoyment. I busied myself on the computer, but kept close tabs on the Bronco's progress, since this is the home team of our Colorado family. I delighted to watch their inevitable triumph, as the game played out. Of course, I always see the human interest aspect, and noted several important facets that apply to this book. Number One is their team spirit of oneness, and their desire to win for their hometown fans, as well as for sentimental favorite, John Elway, to wear the Super Bowl ring. The Colorado spirit and support, too, is a big factor. Number Two is the change in John Elway from an egotistical, arrogant player to a teammate with humility. Van told me that at one time John had explained that he knew he needed to change, but he didn't know how. Somehow, time, along with the support of his wife, kids, and father brought about his desired change. Of course, his "desire" and willingness were necessary too. Now, he wanted to win for his team and for his fans. Yeah Elway! Number Three is Terrel Davis, the San Diego hometown boy returning to win the championship, not only to bring honor to his team and his hometown, but for his mother too. Interviews with them impressed the closeness of this important relationship in his life. Despite Terrel's migraine, he kept going, and he made the difference that brought about victory. His attitude and actions won him the Most Valuable Player award. Usually I'm not interested in sports, but this game offered action and inspiration that one expects in the word sport. Finally, we have some top role-models worthy of the term idols. Perhaps the world is beginning to turn-around, after all. It was an inspiring game to watch, but the personal lives of these two players added the something extra. When its Over, its Over The results of that game are history, as the Broncos won, and John Elway got his Super Bowl ring, and the Colorado fans got a high. Before the game, Van had been tempted to go to one of the casinos to watch on their big screen, but chose to stay home. So afterward we walked through Riverside and Flamingo's Sports Book Rooms, where the bets are placed for horses, dog races and sports, hoping to get in on some of the high energies. However, everyone had left, and only a few stragglers came up to the counter to collect their winnings, or complain when learning that they had lost. But the energies were still charged from all the excitement. Yet, in other parts of the casino, life was going on as usual. This is a place that loudly proclaims: when it's over it's over! We agreed, and as we walked home, I asked Little Ralph, "Are you glad we came down to the Sports Book Rooms?" He smiled and nodded with a look of satisfaction on his face. I knew this had been an important day for Little Ralph to be able to enjoy the fun of normal boy-man activity, even if watched alone; and to experience the energies of the casino, where the group participation had been shared. Strawberry Shortcake and the X Generation One day, as we savored the last bites of our $1.00 strawberry shortcake at the Gold River Casino, I'd been watching an "X Generation" father, with his four-year-old son, eating hamburgers and sharing a coke. Another senior lady and I watched in grandmotherly amusement, as the hungry lad devoured his sandwich quicker than his dad. She said, "He sure wolfed that down fast!" "Yeah, he gets that from me," the proud young father remarked, as he offered his son a sip of Coke. I thought to myself, "In my day, we wouldn't think of giving a child caffeine-laden Coke." But watching them enjoy their repast, Joanie said, "Let's go to the Flamingo's restaurant and have a $1.99 hamburger and fries." Little Ralph's eyes opened wide, and he stopped mid-bite. The furthest thing from his mind was another goodie. "Well, this is dessert. Don't you want something else?" Joanie prodded. "Probably," he said, after putting the bite in his mouth. "So, instead of snacking when you get home, you can fill-up on a hamburger and fries. We can share one, if you like." "Okay," he mumbled between spoonfuls of the sweet treat. Watching the little boy eating the garnish that he'd forgotten to put in his hamburger, Joanie asked Little Ralph, "Are you sure you want to share? I think I could eat a whole one, how about you?" He looked up, "Sure!" The Line was Too Long! The shuttle bus awaited when we left the Gold River Casino, so we rode to the mall, and walked across the street to the Flamingo, with it's flashing pink logo. The line to the diner, where we were, was fairly short, but the one to the buffet snaked through the casino floor. While we ate, a diabetic actually passed out during the wait, and the waiters rushed two glasses of orange juice to the victim, now prone in the line. "Too bad," Joanie said, "he was almost there. I'm sure glad we came in to the diner. How's your hamburger?" Little Ralph happily munched away, "Good," he replied. By the time we finished, there was nothing left but a few french fries, which we took with us to cover with chili, at a later time. Walking along the starlit River Walk, Joanie asked, "Aren't you glad we ate?" "Good idea," he said. Mardi Gras at The Riverside We arrived at the Riverside casino in time for the Mardi Gras parade with it's festive New Orleans music and the "king" and "queen" tossing out bead necklaces and fake gold coins. I'd already gotten mine the night before, so we walked on to the drawing drum, where Van put in our tickets. The crowds gathered for the big drawing, and we waited as the congestion grew. The security guards were desperately trying to make a passageway, but with very little success, as angry seniors pushed and shoved to get through. One lady was in a panic, as she attempted to get to her departing bus. I'm not sure she made it. The king, now became the announcer, and was blithely going through his antics midst all the chaos. After all, he had an audience waiting to hear if they won the $500.00, plus an opportunity for the weekly drawing for a trip to Germany. No wonder there was such pandemonium. Van had made it to the other side of the doorway into the main casino, but I was backed against the slots in the narrow walkway, and the lady next to me complained that she couldn't see, as she said, "I've been here since 7:30." Finally, at the designated 8:00 magic time, the king drew out the two names -- one blue ticket (men) and one pink (women) -- for the daily winner. Happy voices from the crowd shouted their presence, and the festivities continued. But we left. The high energies of so many people were too disquieting to my serenity. I enjoyed the fun, but the confusion and anger were verging onto riot conditions, surprising amongst this older group, but nevertheless true. Mostly due to the few who had mixed drinking and gambling. Their addictions had kicked in, and took away from the joy of the others, who were trying to have a good time. Once outside, we breathed the fresh air, as the shuttle approached and then deposited us at our front door. From inside Freedom, we looked at the peaceful night scene with the towering casinos, and were happy to be in our home. Sometimes the greatest joy is simply enjoying what you already have. Chapter 2 IS THIS ALL THERE IS? Unlimited Possibilities I continued writing to my ministry-by-mail, but I began feeling closed-in by the shelves I'd had placed on the seat opposite my computer table. With Van's effort, we moved it beside the bed, but discovered that only the top shelf was usuable; the others were below the bed. Van's engineering mind concluded that it would fit sideways on the computer table. In fact, I could finally use the lower shelves that had been inaccessible. This covered the side windows, but now I could see out the front ones, and the entire coach was now opened up. I could sit at my computer and look out the front window, beyond the casinos, across the river, and even beyond the mountains to blue sky and sunshine. Somehow, this simple act of changing the shelves seemed to culminate the lesson of seeing the potential already at hand, and my life too seemed unlimited. What had seemed impossible, now seemed possible, even as finding a way to rearrange the shelves, in this limited space,had seemed limited, there was a way. I knew that God had been giving me opportunites through my life experiences to learn and grow. To overcome my past history, and to live an expanded life -- beginning now, in the Present Moment, and recognizing the abundance already available. An Expanded Life With this new outlook and open space, I felt so enthusiastic that I decided to finish writing Recognizing and Changing Money Patterns, while we were hooked up to this unlimited supply of electricity. It's a book that I'd been living with and working on for over ten years, yet when I started looking through the computer files, I realized that it was never actually compiled into one book. Much to my amazement, I was Guided from one file to another; from a chapter here, to a paragraph there; and a sentence taken from one place, and added to another some place else. I was dizzy, while the book writing process continued. It felt as if I was not writing the book, but it was going together, as if by magic. Within a week, it was finished, so I printed it out and sent it to my daughter, Dottie, for editing. Because I'd taken material from A Codependent's Downward Spiral and Recovery, I knew that I must immediately work on that book, or I would forget what I'd done in the above-mentioned whirlwind activity. So I finished revising and printed it out, and mailed it too. All the time, I basked in the joy of the full electrical hookup, and the new open view in Freedom, since we had rearranged the book shelf, putting it along a window, rathert than across the coach; and I reveled in the ease of writing, as every word and action was being Guided. Once these two books were completed and mailed, I asked Van if he'd be willing to help change the format of Chapter One, of Recognizing and Changing Money Patterns, into a booklet titled It's Time to Say 'No' to Habits, Patterns and Addictions, which I could give as a handout. He'd been feeling so much better during this time, that he agreed. And another project was completed easily and joyously. With all this renewed energy, I decided to take advantage of staying in one place by compiling the first book in this Travel Series, from the filed chapters, into a book format. I realized that perhaps Book One and Book Two needed to be somewhat revised. In order to know where one appropriately ended, and the other began, I needed to Outline both books; a task I usually avoid. But, much to my delight, the natural progression evolved, and so did the thesis for each. Until now, I'd been writing chapters as we traveled, without much attention to proper writing style. "Write it bad, just get it written," is the guideline for this type of writing. Yet, with very little effort, and still being Guided, the two books were separated, and the logical format established. Now, I had two more books ready for Dottie. MORE BELOW |
Chapter 3 MONEY MATTERS Laughlin Can be Slippery Laughlin is a gambling resort, and as such it has the energies associated with addictions. It can be extremely slippery for anyone in recovery from alcoholism, drugs, eating disorders or money disorders, which is my name for the outer effects of childhood issues that manifest in the compulsive money addiction diseases, such as overspending, underearning, shopping and gambling. And for their codependent spouses. Everything here is designed to tempt and tantalize one to drink, eat, gamble and spend. Therefore, one's intentions and resolves must be iron-willed to survive the seduction. Money Matters Background Van's money disorders ran rampant after the downsize of the computer company where he flourished as a computer programmer-analyst. We'd been enjoying the Good Life in our three-level rented home overlooking the ocean in San Diego's North County. We were not compulsive spenders, but the abrupt halt to our income caught Van unprepared for "early retirement," and he became traumatized. In his late fifties, he lost heart for finding another job or starting over, especially since the computer industry was moving ahead at such a fast pace; several months out of the mainstream and it had moved on, without him. At first Van had been excited about the layoff, because it allowed him to work full-time with the multi-level-marketing (MLM) program we'd been in partnership with Dottie and Steve (my daughter and son-in-law). I'd been deeply involved with my prison ministry and writing, but neither had provided any income, so I too supported their efforts by writing newsletters and giving emotional encouragement. We survived on our severance package for six-weeks, then went through our retirement savings, while waiting for the business to kick-in. But Dottie's husband, Steve, who had been the sales person, returned to car sales, thus taking his energies from the business. Van, whose function had been Business Manager, suddenly faced the overwhelming prospect of coming out of his non-social shell and making people contact. He made a valiant effort for several years, and relied on the ever-available credit card loans to "see us through." Within a few years we were caught in the debt trap, and the MLM business required more and more money, like the carrot before the donkey. We had to put in money to make money, but the financial increase never happened. Then the company had upper-level partnership problems, and went into bankruptcy. We all lost heart and gave up the effort. Van simply became immobilized. For several years he barely functioned, and he had no idea what to do next. In the meantime, I panicked. The person who had been our financial provider wasn't able to think, let alone work. It became up to me to make the decisions and try to figure out what was happening with Van. We were both traumatized, and clueless as what to do about it. We had no insurance for treatment; and what would help this problem? In the meantime, Van had reached sixty-two and we applied for early Social Security, which was like putting on a bandaide, but it was a start. The Fresh Start Law My next step was to confer with a free lawyer at the Seniors Center. He said to find a lawyer and file bankruptcy, the Fresh Start Law. It was designed for people in our situation. This was the first glimpse of hope for Van, and as he came out of his lethargy to fill out the forms, with the help of an excellent attorney, Van started to come out of his shell, but he still made no effort to increase our income. In fact, he was content to do nothing, and wait for things to happen. They didn't, and I knew we could not continue to live this lifestyle on Social Security. I suggested various alternatives, including the possibility of someone living with us to help with finances. But neither of us were happy about sharing our home. An Insidious Disease Finally, desperate for help, I insisted that Van attend DA (Debtors Anonymous) and I went too. I also continued my support program, CoDa (Codependent Anonymous). We learned that we were victims of yet another compulsive, addictive disease described as overspending-underearning. The only "cure" is working the program, and allowing time to heal. I'm convinced that money disorders are more deadly and devastating than any of the other addictions. For one thing, they are more subtle, and therefore harder to recognize. And the harmful aspects are less detectable. And the disease is more socially acceptable. I call it an insidious addiction, because the pain to the significant other is undectable. There's no bruise or bleeding we can point to and say, "It hurts," and invoke sympathy or understanding from the onlooker. The Cure: A Spending Plan One of the tools for recovery in DA is a Spending Plan, similar to a budget, to force the victim to come out of denial and see the facts of their financial situation. And then to take steps to live within that reality. Whew! Easier said than done. Another tool is talking about the problems, and most meetings were stories of the attendees efforts to take and maintain that first simple step. Another tool is keeping numbers, which means writing down your daily expenditures no matter how seemingly insignificant. This is to put consciousness into one's spending, and to take responsibility for their actions. This too brings painful confessions during weekly meetings. Van never shared during the year he attended meetings. Oh, he learned a lot, and he enjoyed the companionship of other sufferers. But he never gave back to the group. And he really never worked the program. He continued to do things his way, but he never got involved. And this is characteristic of his none-intimacy issues. But I've already written about this in my trilogy:Recognizing and Changing Money Patterns, about identifying and changing our money disorder patterns, Knocking on Doors, which tells his story, and A Codependent's Downward Spiral and Recovery, which tells my codependency issues and recovery during the process. Breaking the "No Talk" Rule This book is about changing our money patterns, and this chapter is about the money issues, and the background that caused them. Although I feel that I'm breaking the "no talk rule" by telling family money matters, it's important for our recovery, and it may be helpful for you. So despite the lump in my throat, here goes. Writing this out is a major step forward for me. In early January, while at my stepmother, Arlene's, she gave me the second (of three) checks that she equally distributed to dad's four kids and to her three boys, as part of the legacy from his estate. The money wouldn't need to be disbursed until after her death, but she chose to do this as a gift so we could all benefit during her lifetime. When I first heard this news, I felt a great sense of responsibility. I wanted to invest the money wisely, and in a way that would give me financial support the rest of my life. I felt that, somehow, this investment would relate to my writing, but I wasn't quite sure how that would happen. At the time Arlene told me of the gift, I was separated from Van, and living in Colorado, attempting to decide if I could continue our marriage. Exhausted from the pain and frustration of living with the above-mentioned money matters, I'd rejoiced to discover (after a few months away from him), that I still could enjoy life; and I also discovered that I liked who I am. But, I decided to return to California and make a decision whether to remain, or finalize our marriage. At that point I really didn't care which result evolved -- and I heard that Van felt the same way. At first I hesitated to tell him about the gift, but things seemed to be going okay, so I mentioned that there was a sum of money available, without indicating the amount. I didn't trust his money disease, and needed to safeguard my inheritance. We discussed possible plans, and for the first time since the bankruptcy, he showed signs of hope. The decision was made to buy a mobile home in Colorado, but we bought Freedom instead, and the rest is history, recorded in my Travel Series. Now for the next revelation about the check from Arlene. Because the gift was to arrive over a three-year period, we weren't able to get financing, so Van asked his mom if she'd be willing to invest, and I'd pay her back each year. Not only did she say, "Yes," but she said that 1/2 of the cost for Freedom would be invested by her for Van, so I'd only need to pay back the other 1/2. This first check, then, would go directly to her. It's a Matter of Intentions I'd asked Van to let her know, during their weekly phone call, that the check would be on the way in a few days. But he totally forgot to mention it to her. In fact, he had looked pained at the thought of discussing money with her, especially on the phone -- one of his bugaboos -- but knowing he has a passive-aggressive personality, I should have insisted, and I should have known that he had no intentions of doing it, therefore, it wouldn't happen. And it didn't. It's My Obligation But I didn't allow his actions to detract from me fulfilling my obligation, though it was overwhelming for me. We're talking serious money matters here. The procedure of signing over the check and mailing it to Betty took place in Laughlin, and was part of the larger money matters process. I'd set aside the second day in town for this purpose. We'd learned that the Laughlin Post Office is in the Riverside Casino, because that was the original building in this town founded by Don Laughlin, the Donald Trump of Laughlin. As I write, I'm looking at the new twenty-four story tower with his penthouse apartment on top. Often his helicopter lands on the pad, and he walks inside his home with the 360 degree view. I'd purchased two "thank you" cards the day before. And now with deep emotion, I wrote one to Van's mother, Betty, and one to my stepmother, Arlene -- our two mothers who had made this lifestyle possible. Whenever dealing with money matters, I get lightheaded, a lump in my throat, and tightness in my stomach. Obviously nothing wrong with me about money. Actually, I've spent years processing through these symptoms, and finally concluded that I too, have a money disorder. Mine manifests differently than Van's, and I hadn't actually identified it, but it is just as real. That's why I had to be very conscientious about this money transaction, and take it one-step-at-a-time. I'd written on the card a notation for the purpose of the check and thanked her for her generosity and support, and had Van write his "thank you." Once the check had been signed over to Betty, I placed it in the envelope and sealed and stamped it. Then I wrote a "thank you" note to Arlene, and completed the envelope preparations using the Laughlin General Delivery return address. We then walked down the stairs of the various terraces, across the walkway to the Riverside Casino, and stood in line at the post office. I'd felt it necessary to certify the letter, and felt good once the transaction was completed. A weight had lifted with this momentous money matter accomplished. Let's Celebrate! Van shared in the process too, so we celebrated by going to another movie, Wag the Dog, which would soon become highly publicized in President Clinton's sexual exploitations. But, for me, it emphasized the insanity when priorities get totally out of perspective. I love it when God gives me such an explicit visual aide, which I call an experiential aide, because I am living, not just seeing it. "What's Going on Here?" But that wasn't the end of our money matters process. The next step was to sit down and work out our Spending Plan. The day we'd planned for that purpose somehow got frittered away, and it wasn't done. In the meantime, we decided to pay for our second week to insure that we could keep our favorite spot. I'd asked Van to let the clerk know that we planned to stay several months, so they could make note of the information. When he returned, he mentioned that we now had $5.00 left for the month, but he was "working it out." I panicked. Creative juggling of finances is a definite symptom of the disease, and I shuddered as I wondered if he were in relapse. I asked if he'd told them we planned to stay longer, and he said, "No." Then he added that he would go back, if that was necessary. Now I was getting distressed. Withholding or not giving them what they want is one of the symptoms of his disease. Here was a second time he didn't do what I'd asked. I could feel the negative energies of his patterns were back, and my codependent symptoms of anger took over when we discussed his calling to have our mail forwarded. I wanted him to be sure to ask them to mail it that day, so we could receive the mail the same week, as it was important to me. He got a look that said he wasn't going to do it. Okay, this is it. His demeanor told me that we're in trouble here, and it's all about money matters. I could feel the negativity, and my anger retaliated. On one level he was being cooperative and pleasant, but on the other he was resisting. I said, "Van, what's going on here?" He looked surprised, but said nothing, so I continued. "This is the third thing I've asked you to do in the last few days that you obviously had no intention of doing. If you don't want to do it, say so. If you feel that I should handle these things, then say so. You seem to be slipping into an old pattern." I resented being forced into the Mother-role, but he'd regressed to his inner child role, so I added a few more observations, then asked, "So what are you going to do?" Like a dutiful child he responded, "I'll ask him to send the mail out today." "Okay, what about the reservations for this spot?" "I'll go tell them." He went out the door. When he returned, Little Ralph announced triumphantly, The mail will be sent today." I asked about the reservations, and he said, "We won't be able to stay in this site for three days starting February 14th, because a large group is arriving. They'll try to find us another spot." I said, "That's important information. Thank you." As the day progressed, and he had his own projects, such as running the engine, I realized that he had no intentions of discussing money, besides I didn't want to have this important conversation with Little Ralph, so I suggested we postpone it until the next day. Instead, I suggested we reward Little Ralph's phone call and reservations with an outing. We took the shuttle to Riverside Casino and got a 99-cent hot dog with the trimmings -- and a free soda. Then we went to the Antique Car Museum on the third floor and wandered through miles of Don Laughlin's fascinating car collection, while gentle music softly played over the intercom. Okay, Now Let's do Our Spending Plan But we still hadn't had our Spending Plan discussion. The next day was set aside for the traumatic event. After Van's morning ritual, and my computer time, we sat down in the front of Freedom and began. I'd hoped Adult Ralph would make his presence known during this procedure, as Van had an empty pad before him, and titled it: Spending Plan, and dated. Unfortunately, Little Ralph seemed to be an active part of this meeting, and maintained a blank expression throughout the process. Like he wasn't really participating, but since I insisted, he was doing it. I had to continually urge him to tackle the next step, so I said, "Let's list the ongoing monthly expenses, including credit card charges (not acceptable in DA program), insurance, mail services and a dentist payment." These base expenses equalled $400.00, and we owed a payment of almost $400.00 for an RV repair bill, acquired the previous month. Since we planned to stay another month, we listed: Rent -- $400.00. Already we were at $1200.00, the full amount of our Social Security Retirement income. I asked, "What about food, gas, propane, telephone, postage and your cigarettes?" These items weren't in Van's reality, so it took awhile to compile, because I had to pull each one from his memory. Now we'd exceeded our limit, and we hadn't added Entertainment and Eating Out, which for me -- while at Laughlin -- was a must. I knew we were in trouble when I suggested we make a list of the activities we would enjoy, such as movies and live shows, plus our ice cream cones, strawberry shortcake and hot dog treats. Like a little kid, he took the fresh sheet of paper and plopped it on top of the pad, still with a blank look that said, "Now what do you want to do? Like he was awaiting his mom's instructions. Help! I was exasperated with Van's seeming relapse into his wounded inner child, but in time we worked out a reasonable program to fit the extras into our schedule. Then we figured how much that would cost. Allowing for only one buffet a week, and one meal at the mall, plus one movie or show a week, we arrived at $262.00, which brought to total above our income. This pushed Joanie's buttons. She'd been faithfully pushing through this process, but the prospect of giving up her fun didn't go over at all. She figured, "Oh well, if we want to enjoy any entertainment, we might as well move to the free parking lot." As usual, I went into overwhelm, frustration and anger. I shouted, "This is always the way it is no matter how much we earn or spend. It's the underearners pattern. It's hopeless. There's no way out." However, I'd made up my mind not to go into a major upset resulting in my making Van wrong. The purpose of this meeting was to work on our Spending Plan, which we'd done, so at this point I thanked him for his time and participation, and the meeting was adjourned. It seemed to me that we ended the meeting, with nothing resolved, but at least it served the purpose of letting us know where we stood, and giving us some direction. But I was definitely in a state of hopelessness, and it took all I could muster to keep my mouth shut, while I prepared lunch. Van never talks during meals, anyway, but this time I too was silent. Give up, or Persevere? I focused my attention on Don Laughlin's penthouse apartment towering in front of us, and I wondered how he managed to accumulate such wealth, including an entire town. After lunch, I plopped on the couch and was zapped for the entire afternoon. At times I opened my eyes, as the planes took off and landed on the jet-sized landing field across the river (at the airport that Don Laughlin had financed). I concluded that the first step is perseverance in following his dream; and not letting it die, despite defeats. And he had had many, according to his story on the free video, at the casino. He'd even paid for the highway and bridge, because the state wouldn't do it. Much like Walt Disney, no one could see his vision for this desolate desert. But he kept going, and now the major casinos competed for the dollars in this gambling resort along the Colorado River. The Spending Plan Session had been overwhelming, and Van too dozed in the chair. Neither of us said anything more about money. Our inner kids were probably upset, because they'd been promised an ice cream cone for their efforts, and it didn't look like one was scheduled, not only for today, but not even the rest of the month, since we'd already overspent this month's income, and the Spending Plan didn't come into effect for almost two weeks. Do Something: Anything I knew we couldn't sit here doing nothing. Finally, as the sunset was reflecting across the mountains, I roused myself, looked at the clock, and said, "Let's take the shuttle to Avi. We have 20 minutes to walk over there." A flurry of activity got us ready and out the door. We walked through the sea of RV's and across the vacant field to the mall, where the shuttle would pick us up. Even if we couldn't have an ice cream cone, at least we were doing something by getting out of our lethargy. Just to make sure, I walked to the Information Booth and asked , "Does the bus to Avi come at 5:00?" A pleasant gal responded, "No, it doesn't come until 6:00, and the last one back leaves at 7:00," she pointed to the schedule in her hand, and gave it to me. The shuttle for Ramada Express pulled in, and I said to Van, "It takes at least twenty minutes to get there. No use going. C'mon, let's go to Ramada." He followed as I scrambled on board. Two ladies laden with packages scooted into the front seats, and I said, "You've been doing some serious shopping." They laughed, and one said, "Well, I'd rather spend money on this than on gambling." I replied "Yeah, at least you have something to show for your efforts, and you had fun doing it; and fun enjoying the purchases when you get home." I thought to myself, "Nice that some people have money for shopping. We didn't even put that item on our List." God is the Source: Even Via Discount Coupons By this time we were at the casino, and everyone got off. After the day's money session, I felt like an alien midst all the activity and bright lights, especially since we couldn't spend any money. But soon Joanie's enthusiasm kicked in, and as she wandered through the slots and past the gaming tables, she remembered the coupon book she'd been given at the Information Booth. "Good thing I brought my purse," she mumbled as she searched for the envelope. Little Ralph had been following along behind, and almost ran into her as paused to flip through the booklet. While wandering through the corridors, they both stopped at the lounge and listened to the jazz music being played by an old-time combo. And it was free! The gray-haired black musician playing the saxophone brought memories of Louis Armstrong with his mellow sounds, as the senior citizens sitting in the lounge listened to familiar songs from our era. I too hummed along while watching the dancers on the darkened dance floor. Nice, but the kids weren't interested in dancing, so no use mentioning it to Little Ralph. Instead, Joanie lead the way to the Whistle Stop snack bar and sat down, as she continued searching through her coupon book. "Aha," she exclaimed in exaltation. "Buy one, get one free." She looked at the price list and then said, "My Love, I have $1.00 left. Would you like a frozen yogurt?" Little Ralph perked up, "Sure!" At the counter, I told the lady, "Two swirls." She asked, "Cup or waffle cone?" Joanie chirped, "Waffle cone," and Little Ralph, in his wounded child syndrome mumbled, "Cup." The assistant handed Van his cup of chocolate/vanilla swirl, and I said, "Oh, I wanted strawberry swirl." When the attendant handed me a huge waffle cone filled with a pink swirl, Little Ralph's eyes opened wide. We sat down, and I said, "Want a bite?" He nodded, so I held out my gigantic cone and he took a spoonful and muttered, "Good." "I didn't know they had chocolate swirl," I said, "Sorry." Then as I licked away at my pink swirl, I added, "Guess it's a matter of consciousness." Little Ralph didn't say anything, but slowly spooned his treat, making it last much longer than mine, which Joanie quickly devoured. I felt good about buying the ice cream cone, and we certainly deserved the reward for our Spending Plan efforts. It was worth it, especially when you consider the enjoyment we shared for only .50 cents each. And the activity put the emphasis on having, rather than not having. Experience, not Theory There are things about money matters that I simply don't understand. Most of what I share in my writings and workshops is based upon experience, and not theory. I'm not sure how much is actually known about money disorders, but I must have been Divinely Guided, and did something right. Because the next day Van awoke in his usual pleasant mood, and said, "I'm going to phone in our order," which is for the liquid herbal drink that we still take, and which accounts for our good health. I about fainted. First, he'd changed his morning routine that usually takes until about noon before he does any other project. And second, after examining the Spending Plan, I'd said that we couldn't afford it, and I was willing to sacrifice my health, if that's what it took. That was the last discussion on the subject. Now, he not only called in the order, first thing in the morning, but he suggested that he could cash a check at the cashier's booth at the casino. "What do you plan to use for money?" I asked. "Oh, I have some extra that I hadn't accounted for," he replied. "I can withdraw $40.00." I looked surprised, but didn't make my usual negative comments about his holding out. I simply said, "Okay," and he looked pleased. On some level, our patterns were shifting. As I said, "I don't understand what happened, but I do know that money disorders, as with the other addictions, are related to control issues; and it's my observation of others that money is used to control. Apparently something about the Spending Plan process, or maybe the ice cream cone treat, changed Van's pattern, or gave him the incentive to change the pattern himself. I definitely know that the withholding pattern, with its message, "don't give them what they want" was changed. I could feel it in his energy projections. Whereas the day before he'd been withholding money, as a control device, the next day he was willing to share money that I didn't even know he had. And that too, is part of the money disorder pattern -- secret money stash, and being able to transact it at their own discretion. For many in the DA group, even talking about money with one's mate was threatening, so discussing our Spending Plan must have been overwhelming for Van. He was not able to put it into words, yet his actions showed the recovery process. Taking a Step While Van's healing was obvious to me, I too was healing, as I found myself at the computer working on my flyer for the Money Matters Workshop. Something I hadn't been able to do since we'd gone on the road. Now, I was taking a step toward moving forward with this program, which had seemed frightening and overwhelming up until now. I'd been thinking about where, when, and how to present my workshop, but kept coming up with reasons why it wouldn't work. Yet, I felt that Laughlin was a perfect place to reach the gamblers and others with money disorders. I'd awakened that morning with the readiness to move forward, and had begun making the computer changes on my flyer, but this required input from Van's technical expertise. He'd been resistant to do anything with the computer for a long time, but when I'd recently asked if he would be willing to help, he'd said, "Yes." So when I requested his input, he gladly gave it. Something was happening, and I was excited. But I kept hearing the inner Guidance, "Take it one step at a time, and take it easy," and this felt good to me, because I went into overwhelm every time I anticipated the prospect of once again putting myself before people as a workshop facilitator. One part of me loved doing it, and was good at it; but the other part feared the failure, rejection, and even the success. Fortunately, we had time to work through this process, and to take it one step at a time. I completed the flyer changes, and stopped any further efforts on it for the day. In the past I'd take the ball and run with it. Now I would let go and let God guide me. The Rewards! I knew that letting go would work, if I let it, so after my computer time, we walked to the post office at Riverside and collected the mail that had been forwarded. Sitting on a bench along the Colorado River in the warm sunshine, I opened the package and handed Van three belated birthday cards. He gasped as a check for $200.00 fell out of the card from his mom, and he took a long time to read the "Son" greeting on the oversized card that oozed with love expressed in Betty's own way. Finally he opened the card from Arlene and carefully removed a $50.00 bill, while he read the greeting "On Our Mutual Birthday," and he commented, "That's an unusual card." I said, "Leave it to Arlene to find the perfect card." She also wrote a note acknowledging that they hadn't officially celebrated their mutual day. I watched the Mallard ducks flocking and fluttering in the water below, as a lady tossed out pieces of bread. Sometimes an astute seagull caught an entire slice in its beak, and the others would grab for their share. What a sight, with the sun reflecting from the green necks of the males. As a pair flew in for a landing, Van said, "Look at the shades of blue in the feathers of the female. I didn't think they were colorful." Indeed, the melee of ducks and seagulls (white with black wing tips) created a picturesque scene along the river bank, as the free river taxis scooted back and forth taking passengers to the Arizona side. And the regular river taxis zipped downstream toward the other casinos. When we first arrived, the Riverboat was loading passengers for their hour-long cruise, and it had now begun its cruise along the river. While Van read the card from his stepmother, Ruth, I interrupted, "Isn't it interesting that you received this money the day after we did our Spending Plan? Or maybe it's a matter of a change in your consciousness?" He looked up and replied, "Both," and returned to reading his letter. When he finished, I said, "Are we going to the bank now, to cash a check?" "Don't need to now," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. Then added, "About 4:00 o'clock, let's come back and get an ice cream cone." I knew that the arrival of the birthday money had added a great deal to his feeling of self-esteem, and Little Ralph truly understood that it was a reward for "doing it right." This was his moment, but as we passed a clock, Joanie couldn't resist, "That's only an hour. Why not get the ice cream cone now?" "We'll want to take the mail package home first." I sensed a touch of control on his part, and knew I should let it alone, but when we passed the ice cream shop, Joanie had to stop and select hers. Looking at the display of goodies, she said, "I'm going to have the sugar and fat free chocolate. What one do you want?" Little Ralph already had decided what he wanted the night before, so she teased, "I'll bet you want the bubble gum." He looked disgusted, "No, I want the banana nut," he said as he eyed the tub of yellow confection. As we wandered through the casino, I said, "So what are you planning to do with your money?" "I'm going to buy a new pair of work gloves and a special wrench for those weird screws." I was thrilled that he'd given himself permission to get something for himself, even if it was a tool. This was a first of the highest magnitude. In the past, he wouldn't have thought of buying something for himself. I knew that a new level of recovery and healing had taken place. Hooray! Walking through the casino, Joanie stopped to watch the free video about Don Laughlin, now gray-haired, as he mentioned that he had to go through 38 government agencies to get his bridge built, even though he paid for it himself, and it took four years. He added, "It only took four months to build the bridge." Clearly a man who gets things done. As we passed the lobby in front of the doors to the Celebrity Theater, Little Ralph stopped in front of the free video of the current entertainer, Charlie Prose, who was doing his comic dialogue about a seeing-eye dog at the bar. We both laughed at the punch line, and wandered out to the free shuttle. Keeping in mind that we didn't have any money for the rest of the month, Joanie couldn't resist asking, "So do you plan to spend any of your birthday money on our treats?" "Sure," he said. "Well, at least the cash. I'm going to deposit the check." Joanie smiled with relief, and I could sense that we had "done something right," and as a result had reached a new level of consciousness that would be a turning point for our future. But for today it was enough to return for our ice cream cone and sit at the table in the deli chatting and enjoying ourselves as Little Ralph happily licked on his big waffle cone, while this time Joanie proudly savored her healthful regular size cone. After all, we have to use wisdom and good judgment in our fun choices. Looking ahead to the next day, she said, "Let's go to the free movie at Ramada tomorrow. It's Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire in Band Wagon." "Okay," Little Ralph replied, as he licked a yellow glob of banana nut ice cream. "Is it as good as you anticipated?" "Yeah." "Will you order it again?" "Well, I want to try some others, first, but I'll get back to it again." I rejoiced at this healthy, normal conversation between Joanie and Little Ralph, as I breathed a sigh of relief and thought, "We're going to be okay," because, until recently, Van wouldn't allow himself anything, let alone his own ice cream cone. Instead, he'd hesitantly use a plastic spoon to taste mine. Now, he not only selected his own cone, he looked forward to his next one; a major change in his underearner pattern. MORE BELOW |
Chapter 4 THE BIG STORM This Show Is Up to Me We continued having fun together, and I continued writing every day. But with the arrival of a new month, I said to Ralph, "We need to update our Spending Plan and Numbers again." He immediately went into his withdrawal, but sat and listened as I began discussing our current finances, starting with an account I'd been keeping of the daily expenses while using my cash. Then I said, "We need to add the birthday check from your mother to our personal Spending Plan." He looked blank. I explained that it was additional income, and needed to be accounted for. Still no action. Finally, I said, "Could you please get out the book with our Spending Plan?" Like a kid, he jumped up, grabbed the book and plopped it on the table, then looked at me blankly and said, "Now what do you want to do?" I could see the way this was going, and I began getting angry. Again, I'd hoped that his adult-self would be participating in this discussion, but instead I had to cope with Little Ralph. I said, "Why is it about 'what I want to do?' Can't we work this out together?" Blank look. So I continued "So where do we need to list the birthday check?" Still blank, as he said, "I don't know, where do you think it should go?" Exasperated, I realized that this show was going to be up to me, so step by step I went through the process of updating the Spending Plan and Numbers, and Ralph participated by entering the figures in the calculator and writing them down where I suggested. With much probing on my part, I learned that he'd written out several checks to pay the items already listed, so I said, "Let's date them to indicate the day they were paid." Obediently he dated the entries. As we progressed, I had to prod for each bit of information as to how much he'd paid. At one point I said, "There's a large discrepancy between the amount listed ($100) and the amount you paid ($440)." He explained, "That includes the repairs on Freedom." "But they aren't listed on our Spending Plan. This is going to throw our figures way off." "I used the money from Mom." "Oh. So where is that listed?" "It isn't." "Okay, so where do you think it should be listed?" "I don't know." We found a place to list it, and upgraded our Spending Plan to include a running account of money in and money out, with a balance readily visible. Money is a Control Issue Having attended Debtors Anonymous meetings for a year, I knew exactly what was going on with Ralph. After all, money is a control issue, and though he wouldn't admit it, he felt he was losing control. That's why the victim of this money disorder likes to keep his finances secret. But there was no use discussing this with Ralph, because he was in his disease. It would be like talking to an alcoholic about his addiction when he was in a raging relapse. On one hand, Ralph was happy to have me involved, but the disease didn't want me knowing his finances. It's a matter of control. I'd heard people in DA share heartwrenching stories of their efforts to discuss their finances with their mates. We'd all applauded the efforts of one fellow who, in tears, told the group his intense emotions as he had finally managed to talk about money with his wife. So I knew we were in an intense part of this money disorder recovery process. The only way out was through the discomfort. I kept prodding him onward, until all the figures were accounted for, and we had a complete and conscious account. Not an elaborate system, but one a child could fathom. And after all, we were dealing with his inner child in this process. Adult Ralph was once a personal financial consultant, and is perfectly capable of handling complicated transactions. Time and Patience Time and patience are the key words here. And my own inner child was barely recovered enough to cope with money matters, so it took a lot of patience and understanding on her part. I was very proud of her for supporting us through this process. And Little Ralph too was undergoing a tremendous step in his growing up evolvement. By the time we were finished, we knew exactly where we stood: about $400.00 more outgo than income. This is why it's called underearning and overspending. I said, "Looks like we'll have to revise the Entertainment and Eating Out part of our Spending Plan." Little Ralph still looked blank. I reached for the paper with them listed, and began cutting down amounts, until we finally balanced the income and outgo. Triumphantly I said, "If we follow these guidelines, we can live within our income." Time for Nurturing We put the notebooks away and I fixed lunch. My inner child always needs to eat, for her nurturing, after one of these sessions. By now the storm clouds outside were gathering, and we turned on the lights while I worked on the computer and Ralph read a magazine. Around five o' clock I said, "It looks like it's going to rain any minute." Ralph looked outside and said, "Oh no, it's going to blow right over." I insisted, "Let's take the next shuttle to the casino and walk around inside. Maybe we can share a piece of that chocolate cake with the coconut frosting." The shuttle came early and we missed it. Before the next one arrived, the rains began, accompanied by strong winds from the south that had blown the storm in. We decided to rush down the steps and wait in the shelter of the laundry building. Good thing too, because the shuttle didn't come for about a half-hour, and the rain turned into a downpour with the palm trees whipping in the high winds. "Our timing is sure off," I said. "It hardly ever rains here, so I don't know why we're going out in this storm." Little Ralph was excited to be on an adventure, and didn't seem to mind a bit. Finally, the bus came and we rushed from our shelter into its welcoming doors. Once inside the casino, we headed for the deli. By this time Joanie was hungry again, and she'd had her mind set on having one of their thick sandwiches. "Let's share a sandwich," I said to Ralph. "Do you have any cash?" "A few dollars," he mumbled. "You can cash a check at the Cashiers." "I'd rather wait until tomorrow and cash the MLM bonus check. I didn't know we were getting into this kind of a situation." I could tell that he was upset. Another storm was brewing. Nevertheless, I stood in line. "What kind of a sandwich do you want?" "I don't care," he growled. "Okay, I'll order turkey. Do you mind if we leave off the onions?" "Go ahead." I looked into my fannypack and found two more dollars. "I'm going to order a piece of that cake too." Now I could tell that he was really angry. I knew it had to do with his need to control. He hadn't planned on this so-called elaborate meal, and he felt he'd lost control. I didn't do what I'd said we'd do -- share a piece of cake. But I was hungry, and I didn't feel it was unreasonable to upgrade our meal by also sharing a sandwich. We could compensate for the cost by spending less on another meal. Nevertheless, we ate in silence. I wondered if I'd really gone too far, and was, in fact, succumbing to my money disorder by spending more than we'd agreed. Or, was it my need to eat? Doesn't matter. I'm hungry and I'm going to enjoy this meal. It's delicious. Furthermore, I felt good about myself for not giving in to Ralph's money control issues. I decided that he could work it out himself. I finished long before he did, so went to watch the free entertainment for their Mardi Gras celebration. As I enjoyed the gala music, and watched the dancers bouncing to a cha cha cha, I thought, "I can't let Ralph's negativity take away from my joy. During a break, I returned to his table. The storm clouds were still over his head, but he seemed mellowed from the good meal. "Good chocolate cake, huh?" I chirped. "Yeah, but it's rich." "I know. It's suppose to be." Mardi Gras We walked toward the door and looked outside. Still downpouring. When we passed by the Mardi Gras area, I said, "Let's put some tickets in the barrel. Maybe we'll win." We stayed for the rest of the festivities, including the drawing, but we didn't win. However, Ralph's mood had shifted, and he'd returned to his smiling self. As we walked through the casino, I knew that his inner storm had passed, and I rejoiced that I'd maintained my level of joy without succumbing to his negativity. Despite the clearing of Ralph's inner storm, the outside weather continued its downpour, and we gladly joined the others awaiting the shuttle. The Storm is Over Once home, Ralph had returned to his pleasant self as we watched the preparations for the Nagano, Japan Winter Olympics. Hearing the stories of athletes who had faced and overcome their personal demons of physical or emotional setbacks, I felt that we too were winners in our inner battles to overcome the devastation of our money disorders. The storm had cleared by the next morning, and the white fluffy clouds capped the jagged mountain peaks across the river and added happy accents to the blue sky. Ralph too awoke cheerful with a warm greeting, as he surveyed the surrounding panorama from our window on the hillside. I continued writing while he went through his morning routine, and when he returned from his shower at the park facility, he got out his notebook and began making entries for our previous night's snack expenses. Hooray! "Are You Really Hungry?" I realized that a milestone had been reached, as I sat on the couch and said, "My version of what happened last night is that you were facing control issues. After all, money disorders, and eating disorders, too, are control issues, and your ego felt you were losing control." I went over the events, and put into words how I saw the incident, including my interpretation of his actions and words. Then I concluded, "I was hungry, and I'm not sure if I was really needing food, or if my eating disorder kicked in. It had been intense for me doing our Spending Plan, and fixing my own lunch doesn't cut it for me. It doesn't emotionally nourish me. So I may have developed the feelings of hunger, so that I could eat." Ralph looked surprised at my self-honesty. I continued, "In the future, to avoid these upsets, it might help you to clarify what's happening by asking me, 'Are you really hungry or do you need inner nourishing?'" He looked relieved to have a solution, and said, "Okay." Another Storm But just as the weather news warned of more storms to come this El Nino year, Ralph too faced another money storm when we went to the casino to cash a check. The first cashier said that he would have to go to the New Accounts Cashier, so we followed her directions and stood at the window while she took her time coming to help us. I could tell that Ralph was uptight as he made his request, "I'd like to write a check for $20.00." Firm, but pleasant, the lady whose demeanor somewhat resembled his mother, said, "You have to write a minimum of $100.00. Then you must have identification, including your Drivers License and Social Security card and a credit card. Meekly he asked, "Can I use my debit card for this transaction?" "No." On and on it went for twenty minutes as a line formed at the other window, while Ralph processed through the transaction. I watched Little Ralph grow up right before my very eyes. Finally, with all criteria met, except for the Social Security card, the lady okayed his transaction. But first he had to open an account. She filled out the card, and had him sign it, then handed him a form to take to the cashier. He filed in line and waited. Finally, he said, "The employees got paid today. That's why there's such a long line." We Need a Reward! With his $100.00 cash safely in his pocket, I figured we needed a reward, so I said, "Let's go over to Ramada and get a frozen yogurt. Little Ralph gladly said, "Okay." And we began the adventure of walking across the parking lot, and the vacant field, and waiting in front of the Horizon Outlet for the Ramada shuttle, then wandering through the maze of slots at the casino, standing in line and getting our 2 for 1 frozen yogurt in a waffle cone. Can life get any better than this? Especially when you add the live swing jazz music that we enjoyed free, in the lounge, without even ordering a drink. That night, after returning home, Ralph sat down on his own, and made his daily expenditure entries without Little Ralph's interference. Then he showed them to me. Hallelujah! The healing integration of Adult Ralph and Little Ralph had reached another level. The Spending Plan Really Works! The next day, after having our 99-cent hot dogs at Riverside Casino, while walking back along the entrance-hall, I felt a strong urge to call Dottie. In fact, I'd been feeling this inner guidance compulsion for several days, and knew that I'd better not ignore it any longer. Dottie began talking about their present state of financial chaos, as she said "If I made a list, I could write pages. And it seems like we get one thing fixed, and another part of it stops working; or something else falls apart or is broken." I exclaimed, "Wow! I remember that happening one time while you guys lived with us. Sounds like you're in the middle of some drastic pattern changes. In other words, it's up and it isn't going away until you get on the other side of it." "Right," she agreed, "but some things are getting better. For instance, we finally made a Spending Plan in January, but it was hard, because Steve doesn't make a specific amount of money each month. But we wrote everything down, anyway." "That's an important step," I said, "and once we took it, money started coming in; and it was easier to take the next step." I told her about our second session with our Spending Plan. "I know what you mean," she commented, "after we did ours, Steve's second job agreed to give him a weekly draw of $500.00, so we can count on that, and it gave us a starting place." "Congratulations!" I exclaimed. "This stuff really works!" "Yeah, it does, and that's not all. Now that I've stopped working, he's making more money." I interjected, "You know, I was just reading about that pattern you two have, while adding your Free to be Me chapter. I'm beginning to wonder if some of these patterns are so strong that all we can do is accept them and live with them." "Well, I don't know. It's really working out good for me, now, because I'm taking care of me, and the anorexia patterns aren't in control. I know that, because I really enjoy cooking creative meals now, and that's a big change. "Wow! I'm impressed. She continued, "It even gets better! Steve sold his trailer hitch, and some other stuff, so we had money to pay a few bills, and go shopping at Costco." "Oh, you mean you went to the battle front?" I was referring to their ongoing money disorders and eating disorders control games that are consistently triggered during their Costco Treks. Making Choices "Not really. This time it was even fun, as we selected the foods that I wanted for my creative cooking." I interjected, "That reminds me of a turning point for me. It's when I told myself that I needn't feel deprived if I realize that even millionaires have to make choices of what they purchase. So I now make choices how I'll spend our money. This time, when we got to our second session on the Spending Plan, it wasn't as painful to cut down the amounts for Entertainment and Eating Out." "Exactly. That's how it worked when we were at Costco. And it was actually fun." Now Dottie was on a roll, as she said, "And I'm keeping the house clean, the way I like it. I've even cleaned up my computer room, and I've filed everything!" "Good Heavens," I exclaimed as a picture of the cluttered room flashed in my mind. "That's amazing. I never could understand how you, as a Virgo, could stand it." "I know, it's just part of the negative pattern." Seldom does Dottie refer to her anorexia, and though I went through the recovery process with her, and attended the Twelve Step meetings, we don't discuss it, because I understand what she's talking about. In this instance, I realized that the self-deprivation and the control factors of anorexia are part of the "free to be me" issues; giving herself permission to do what she wants to do, and to have what she wants and needs. All steps toward building her having it all consciousness on a stronger foundation. Cyclic and Spherical It would seem as if we hadn't made much progress with these patterns, unless one realizes that this inner journey is cyclic (in cycles) and spherical (circles; repeats), much like a nautilus shell, so when it seems like the same stuff, it's actually at a deeper level of recovery. Like the psychiatrist, Carl Jung, explained when he compared it to uncovering the piles of stored energies from past experiences, on our way toward entering into the soul realm of existence. I hasten to add, that's my interpretation of his explanation. Dottie and I were at high energy, as we shared our money progress, and I knew the timing was right, because I was compiling the book, and all these money matters were fresh in my mind. "Now I know why I was suppose to call you tonight." Changing the Subject But, I also wanted to talk to her about my writing, as her nitpicking Virgo abilities make her my toughest critic, and also the greatest editor. Changing the subject, I said, What did you think about the chapters I sent you?" "Oh, that's on my list of things to talk about. The one about your future plans only had a few small corrections, such as punctuation. It was really good." "Wow! That's great. It seems to me that Rocky Mountain High article was pretty good too." "Yeah, it was. I only changed a few words, and some punctuation. And I enjoyed reading both of them." "I wish it always went that smoothly. It would make your job much easier. But sometimes I get in a hurry, or lazy, and my writing gets sloppy. Or I want to get it written down, so I resort to narrative, rather than creative writing." MORE BELOW |
A Role Model for Success As I was sharing earlier with Dottie all the news about our Recognizing and Changing Money Patterns progress, and she was telling me about their metamorphoses process, I heard Ralph talking with someone. I looked around, and he whispered, "That was Don Laughlin." I passed the news along to Dottie, adding, "It's been my intention to see him while here. To those of us staying here, he's like 'Dad.' After all, we're living, eating, and playing in his home, so to speak. It's timely for him to pass by as we're in this intense, hour-long conversation about our Money Matters. He's definitely a role-model for success." Now, I was again interrupted by a commotion, as I heard Ralph again talking with Don Laughlin, who had already attended his meeting, and was now returning down the hall. Talk About Control! "Oh my gosh," I exclaimed, "We've been talking so long that my prepaid calling card must be expired. Maybe we'd better finish our visit, and hang up. The Big News is that I've about finished Changing Money Patterns, and it'll be ready to send you. Are you in a good space to edit it for me?" "Sure," she replied, "send it. I'm not working outside my home anymore, and my home is again in order, so I have extra time." In the middle of our chitchat about family news, the line went dead. "How rude," I said to Ralph, as the computerized voice gave me an option to renew my precharge. But before I could get the phone to him for activating, they said we'd used our allotment for the day. "Talk about control!" I grumbled as we headed down the hall. What Did You Talk About? But I had more important matters on my mind, as I asked Ralph, "What were you and Don Laughlin talking about?" "Huh? Oh, I just said, 'Howdy, how are you doing?' And he said, "I'm doing fine." "Is that all? It sounded like more than that." "No, that's all." "Well, what about the second time?" "Same thing, only I added, "You're looking well,' and he said, 'Thanks, I'm doing good.'" Then Ralph added, "I really wanted to say 'Thanks for having such a nice place to be.' It needed to be short, because he was just passing by." "That would have been nice. Too bad you didn't say it." "Yeah." El Nino and The 1998 Olympics While waiting for our return shuttle, it began sprinkling; and by the time we reached home, we ran to our door to avoid the rain. Once inside, another El Nino downpour pounded on our roof. But, it only added to the ambiance as we settled in to watch the Opening Ceremonies of the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan. First a replay of the 1994 Winter Olympic highlights, and a rehash of the Tanya Harding -- Nancy Kerrigan fiasco, and then videos of the current contenders, Tara Lipinsky, Michelle Kwan and others. Finally, after the emperor and his entourage were seated, the excitement of the actual ceremonies with the Sumo wrestlers blessing the Games, the winter children bringing the message of innocence, and the entrance of the athletes. And the poignant lighting of the Olympic Flame. Everything designed to enhance the message of peace and unity, with the highlight of the five choirs, on five continents, singing together in unison with the wonders of modern technology. Expectations Too High Ralph complained "When you have five choirs around the world, I want to be able to see and hear them all at the same time." I replied, "My Love, you've got your expectations too high. Rather than enjoying how it is, you're wanting it some other way. Let go and take pleasure from the wonderful experience we have." I wondered what this Olympic dissertation had to do with Recognizing and Changing Money Patterns. and when discussing the above conversation with Ralph the next day, I said, "Maybe this is a pattern of yours. You live in a state of disappointment, because neither you, nor others, can live up to your preconceived high expectations. Perhaps it would be good to find a balance between them and settling for mediocrity or the other extreme of indifference, or not caring." He seemed thoughtful, and in his usual lengthy comment, he said, "Maybe." And that was the end of that discussion. But still an important insight into his patterns. The Unexpected Payoff In the meantime, things were working so well since we'd done our personal Spending Plan, I decided to put consciousness into the Inner Freedom Ministry Spending Plan. Again, it took several days of going to, before I finally did it. In the first place, there isn't much income. But, that's not the point. I listed the two Christmas cash donations, which reminded me that I'd forgotten who had sent one. Talk about not being responsible for money. When I looked for the card from the friend whom I thought had sent it, I couldn't find it. That made me wonder if she'd actually sent one. If she didn't, then who sent the donation? I felt really embarrassed when I wrote her a letter explaining my dilemna. And I knew this was part of my money disorder, not being conscious about money. Once I had the items listed, it took another few days before I could get together with Ralph to complete the process. There were some matters we needed to discuss, such as whether or not to close the bank account, or allow the interest to dissipate the remaining funds. I felt they had been donated for the ministry, not the bank, but Ralph brought to my attention that it's part of life to pay the interest for the convenience. As the Bible says, "A servant is worth its hire." So the account remained intact. Then there's the matter of reimbursing our personal account for the newsletter copies we'd charged at Christmas. I begrudgingly agreed that the $30.00 donation could serve that purpose. I must admit, I did feel better, knowing that my debts were cleaned up. An important part of recovery from the money disorders. And Ralph seemed very pleased that I'd fulfilled my obligation. The unexpected payoff is that this resolution gave us cash to see us through the month. Otherwise, I would never have used the ministry money for personal use. It pays to put consciousness into one's finances. It's Time to Tithe When we began talking about tithing, we were getting into the nitty-gritty. Ralph had agreed that we should tithe on our personal account, and decided to donate it to Inner Freedom Ministry. But as I started taking responsibility for the ministries use of the motor home, plus utilities, and other expenses, they equalled the exact amount of the tithe. We concluded that it would be a paperwork transaction. I felt good that we'd handled this matter as adults, but Joanie and Little Ralph felt they'd helped with the decision. A Bountiful Harvest I felt so good about myself for completing the Inner Freedom Ministry Spending Plan that we celebrated by going out for our first buffet, a delicious breakfast for only $1.77 each, at Gold River. I said to Van, "Talk about a bountiful harvest. This is it." Little Ralph and Joanie were in glory as we enjoyed the personally prepared omelettes made to our specifications, and selected from an array of the usual breakfast items, plus fruits, cereals, muffins, croissants, cinnamon rolls, and even frozen yogurt with toppings. Afterward, while walking to the Ramada Express, I said, "You know, I think it was even more enjoyable, because we haven't been overindulging in food. We've been here two weeks, and this is our first buffet. I'm glad we're balancing them out." Van agreed, but the kids were excited, because now they were going to another free forties movie, "Miracle at Morgans Creek," with Betty Hutton and Eddie Bracken. I'd picked up more coupons at the Information Booth while waiting for the shuttle to breakfast. What a great lifestyle! The interesting part about our current joy, is that we've had to work hard to get to a place where we could give ouselves permission to enjoy it. Both Van and I had subconscious feelings of not deserving, and it's taken years to reach this place of recovery that we could be here enjoying the Harvest. Of course, it's been here all along, and others have been reaping the benefits, as evidenced by the hundreds of RVers who do this every year. And yet, I knew that Laughlin, and all this fun, was not the ultimate purpose or plan of my life. I would not feel the joy of fulfillment, if all I did was play. It was simply a necessary and enjoyable balance in my life. Nor was my inner awareness of God the completion. What I longed for was the satisfaction of knowing that my life's efforts, my writing, were reaching others and giving them peace, joy, and fulfillment too. This had been my motivation for over thirty years, and I longed to see it happen, as I listened for God's guidance, and followed where it lead me. MORE BELOW |
Chapter 5 HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS Time to Move on As much as I loved staying at the Riverside RV Park, I knew we could not afford this luxury, on our limited Social Security retirement income, especially since we wanted to see some live shows that would be coming later in the season: Roger Whitaker and Debbie Reynolds, plus several local shows. And I was clearly Guided that it was time to move on; but only up the road to the Gold River free parking, where we'd stayed prior to Christmas. The process of unhooking, securing, and moving on was traumatic, and took part of the final week to complete one-step-at-a-time, because of the emotional trauma for our inner kids, of making this change. For instance, I decided to further utilize our electrical hookup by doing my semi-annual vacuuming (a minor priority since our lifestyle change). And another day I used what I had on hand to cook four meals of soup or casseroles, which would last us twice as long -- we don't eat large meals. The Apostle In the meantime, since this was the three-day holiday of President's Weekend, I kept working on my books. Also Van and I kept having fun. For instance, Tuesday we went to the $2.50 movie at the mall, and saw Robert Duval's The Apostle. I knew God was using this movie as another experiential aide, because the running commentaries within my head kept bringing to mind reminders that I could use the methods of Robert Duval's preacher character to start over and gradually rebuild my ministry and workshops, which had been shelved, while on the road. Changing Money Patterns The timing for me to see The Apostle was uncanny, because during this month, I had been inspired and motivated, while writing Recognizing and Changing Money Patterns, my book about our personal money patterns and attempts to change them. So, the day before our move, I dressed in my Kelly green silk pants suit, and walked into the Executive Offices of Riverside Casino. I'd already been given the name of Tom Kostoff, as the person I should talk to about renting a room for facilitating my Changing Money Patterns Workshop, so I asked to talk with him. As God would have it, this usually busy man actually had time for me to talk with him. He told me the cost of the appropriate meeting room would be $125.00. But when he looked in his books for an open Saturday in March, they were all booked. However, he did have other times and days available. He also offered a semi-private lounge, and suggested I look at it. One look, and I knew it wouldn't work, because we need privacy for this life-changing process of transformation. "I Can't' Transforms into "I Can" That night I couldn't sleep as I began recalling past efforts that ended negatively when I came up against my wall of limitations with "I can't." This time, during another meditation, I asked that all those negative limitation energies be removed and returned to God to be transformed into positive and productive energies for good. The "good" began coming as God gave me an "At-one-ment Visualization." And He took me to another new level by telling me to include the past patterns, blocks and limitations, and inviting my ego to become One. I saw the ego "i" merge into Oneness with the God "I". And the visualization ended with the smaller "i" inside the large "I." It's hard to capture the concept here, but I'm being given another formula that expresses the merging process of the ego with God: i+I = 1. Or, biblically: "I of myself can do nothing; it is not i but the Father (I) within who doeth the works." With this process, the "I can't" becomes "I CAN DO." During the meditation, ideas kept racing through my mind for offering an ongoing support format throughout the month of March; perhaps daily or nightly, during the week. But I was Guided to talk with Mike Scanlon, Marketing Director. I'd been feeling the Guidance all along to talk with him, but had ignored it. Moving Day Now it was moving day, but I felt that I must take action today, before we moved on. After we unhooked, I again dressed in my green outfit, and Van drove to their free parking lot by the casino. Then he walked with me to the door, and waited while I went inside. However, this time I had to wait for Marty, the secretary, and tell her my ideas. She suggested I leave my Outline and Changing Money Patterns Flyer, so Van and I walked back to our conveniently parked home and retrieved the required papers. Then took them back to Marty, who made copies. "Call about mid-morning on Monday," she suggested, "by then Mike will have had time to look at your ideas, and if he's interested, I can tell you when to come see him." Whew! Between moving from our cherished site, and pushing through with steps toward presenting my Changing Money Patterns Workshop, I was overwhelmed. Let's Take it! We still had to do our Wal-Mart and grocery shopping, and find another place to park free. So I changed into my comfortable clothes, and we drove across the Colorado River to Bullhead, Arizona. Once our errands were completed, and I'd nurtured myself with a Burger King, we headed back across the river (about ten miles further south) to the Avi casino and resort on the Indian Reservation. We'd heard this was a place to park free, and they had a good buffet. Throughout the day I'd been affirming, "Thank you, God, for the perfect place for us to stay free." By now it was cloudy and dark, and it was raining. Besides that, the day had obviously been too much for me, and I had stomach cramps. I just wanted to get into our own space and settle down. But as we drove around their lot in the rain, we were shocked to discover there were very few vacancies. So Van tried to fit into a too-small spot, only to put us both into panic as he carefully backed out. "Okay, I said, "let's head back to Laughlin, and find a place at our favorite Gold River spot. It's getting dark, and we've got to get settled." Now back on the Nevada side, I continued thanking God for the perfect space." As we drove through the RV parking lot, there was only one space available, crunched between two RV's, but I gladly said, "Let's take it. Even if it is in the second row, at least we can still see the mountains, and a peak of the River." Van easily parked, and we settled down for the night as another El Nino downpour let loose. "Thank goodness we're settled," I said as I crawled into bed to ease my painful body, and Van began watching the Olympics. Go Ahead and Take it! Exhausted from our active day, I fell asleep. Usually awake and on the computer, I couldn't make myself rouse at all the next morning, until Van finally began to stir. We both looked out at the unusually overcast morning, and drowsily trudged through our routine. When my inner fog cleared, I said, "Look, the RV that was in our favorite spot is gone. But there's a 'taken' sign on it." "Yeah, he must have left early," Van said. "Maybe he's dumping, or refueling, or shopping." Finally, the rain stopped, and a neighbor braved the elements for fresh air. I felt Guided to open the window, "Is it cold?" I asked. We chatted awhile, and I asked where to buy propane. He pointed across the river and gave directions. At some point he asked, "How long are you staying?" When I told him another month, he pointed to the vacant spot and said, "Why don't you take that place?" "It says 'taken'" I responded. "It's not. Go ahead and take it." Why is it that when we get exactly what we want, we often hesitate to take it? I had to ask Van if he'd mind moving, and we actually questioned the advisability of making the change. I think God hit us over the head with a two-by-four, and I finally said, "I want this place. Let's move!" By this time the people next to us had gotten in their car and temporarily left, so I said, "All you have to do is back up the way you came in, and angle around that RV. Then you have a straight shot into the space." Home for the Winter Once in place, with the help of the neighbor to guide Van, I looked out the front window at my cherished view of the mountains and river, and the airport and casinos, and said, "Thank you, God, for giving us what we really wanted." Olympic Closing Ceremonies: Oneness We'd begun watching the Olympic Games on cable TV out of Las Vegas, Nevada, at the Riverside RV Park, but now they came from Phoenix, Arizona on a different channel. Yet, we were thankful to watch the splendor, courage, and sportsmanship of these Games from Nagano, Japan. The last night, prior to the Closing Ceremonies, the story of Louis Zamorini was presented. At first I was disgusted that they would bring up the negative memories of World War II at this time to remind us of its horrors. But then I realized that the message was clearly one of forgiving and forgetting, and healing those still buried, unspoken emotions. Yet, I had found it difficult as the Japanese flags with their red sun were waved througout the Games, and at the final Ceremonies. I'm sure that many of my generation retain our prejudices against the Japanese, for they are deeply ingrained. I still remember World War II quite clearly. As a child, at the time, I became fearful whenever an airplane flew over Bonneville Dam, where I lived, as I knew it was a prime target for bombs. And as I grew older there were Victory songs of all allied nations, along with gas and sugar rationing; and family members going off to war. Perhaps Louis gave us a blessing, after all, by helping to release those buried animosities, and freeing the energies for love and joy. In any event, the Closing Ceremonies, with the marching of the combined flags, and the theme of oneness with all nations and all people created a sense of forgiveness, healing, and freeing for us all to move onward in love. Chapter 6 "ASHES TO ASHES AND DUST TO DUST" Traveling Vietnam War Memorial Along the banks of the Colorado River it stretched; all 252.83 feet with its 58,209 names, including eight women, all killed during the Vietnam War. We were looking at one of three traveling Vietnam Veterans Memorial walls, called The Moving Wall. This one had been brought to the gambling resort town, Laughlin, Nevada, by the American Legion Post #60 and Don Laughlin, the town's founder and namesake. I stooped to read the opening remarks of a lengthy letter, carefully wrapped in plastic and left at the bottom of a six-foot panel: "I'm sorry," it said, "I should have been there." It was too personal and too painful. I didn't read further, and it wasn't meant for my eyes, anyway. But then, whose eyes were meant to read its message? From my understanding, the point of this memorial, and the letters and mementos left behind are for the healing and completion of the 2.7 million men and women who served in Vietnam, and for those who visit the memorial. As a mother, I grieved at the names of sons who died in the prime of their lives. I could feel the pain and emptiness of the wombs who carried these sons and delivered them into the world full of hope and promise. And I thought of the eighteen-plus-years the mothers and fathers cared for their boy's childhood diseases and heartaches and education; and their plans for the future. But all was for nothing, other than a name, amongst thousands, on 74 separate frames. "It was a senseless war," a sixtysomething lady mumbled as she left the scene. I've heard that most vets feel that was the attitude of Americans for this war that nobody wanted; least of all the youth who were enduring the hardships of this heretofore unknown Asian country. "Where was I while they were fighting and dying for their country?" My only answer was a blanket "Raising kids, I guess (two girls and a son, who thankfully was much too young for this war)." I turned to my husband, Van, who was quietly surveying the scene with his own memories as a frogman (Navy Seal) during the Korean Conflict. "Were you in college during Vietnam?" I asked. He looked distant, as he said, "I was trying to get out of the service to avoid being sent to Laos, where that war started. After four years in the Navy, I had no desire to swim in their infested rivers. And yes, I then went to college." A radio disc jockey came by commenting to his unseen audience, "Hey, folks, come on down and see this Vietnam Veterans Memorial. It's next to the Riverside Casino at the Avenue of Flags." I looked up at the circle of American flags honoring all veterans, and then to the flags flying above the Memorial. One for each service: Army, Navy, Marines, Coast Guard and Air Force, plus the American flag in the center. Nothing I had heard or seen prepared me for the reality of this experience. The Moving Wall is angled toward the center where each panel has 137 lines of names listed one after another. The lines decrease along the panels reaching away from the center, until there is only one name on each of the two outside panels; something like two arrows from center to outer edge. Seemingly endless rows of names with either a diamond or a plus by them to indicate whether they are dead or amongst the 1300 missing in action (MIA's). A local firetruck arrived and parked. The firemen walked solemnly over to the desk manned by a man and woman volunteer from the American Legion. Several mentioned names, and the helpers looked through the thick book with alphabetized names, that also listed their former address, and which panel they could be found on The Wall. The firemen joined others standing there looking for names, and their shoulders sagged while they greeted the name of an old friend, or father or brother, or other relative. Many onlookers took pictures, and some wept. One fiftyish man stood with shoulders slumped and arms crossed. A former military man with his shoulders back and arms swinging, approached the desk, while his wife stood by, and then joined him and walked by his side as they slowly approached The Wall, and stood in silence with his memories. Steve's Story Though I personally knew no one who was killed in Vietnam, nor did Van, we felt a reverence for the feeling of those who did. And we talked of our son-in-law, Steve, who still fights his demons resulting from his three-years as an Air Force M.P. Several years ago Steve had attended a workshop where Bert Carson addressed the Vietnam War issues, and it opened a floodgate of emotions for Steve. Bert had given him a medallion honoring his Tour of Duty, and Steve began to share with his wife, Dottie, some of his horrifying memories, and he cried as he released some of the pain. Later, in a phone conversation, he again wept, as he shared some of the experiences and feelings with us: "I arrived in Cameron Bay February 10, 1969; an eighteen-year-old kid, green as grass about war. We'd been well-trained, but we thought we were going to what had been called a "R and R" assignment; not a war-zone. Thirteen days later, February 23rd, we awoke to the most deafening, indescribable sounds you can imagine: rockets landing all around us. A voice was yelling over the bullhorn, "Charley's hit, Charley's hit" which means, "We've been hit." "We were all just kids -- 18, 19 -- and no one knew what to do. Midst pandemonium we scrambled into full gear, as commands continued to bellow from the bullhorn. And then we ran (in full gear)the mile to the CSC (Command Supply Center) where our weapons were stored. We were totally defenseless as rockets landed all around us. I can't describe the terror and chaos of the scene. Only those who were there can understand." Steve continued his agonizing account of the dilemma that faced him that night and haunted the rest of his life. "At the weapons dispensary, every 12th to 16th man was given a 30 lb M60 machine gun -- about 3 ft. long. In addition to that, two cans of ammo, weighing about 30 lbs. each -- like an oversize lunchbox. And, of course, my usual issue of a .38 revolver, and another M16 rifle. No one knew what to do, and we were scared , but we ran toward the trucks. Just as I got about 10 ft. from my truck, it pulled out; and I was left standing there." He stopped, gasping for breath, then said, "It's hard for me talk about this, but I've got to get it out in order to take the energy off. It's better since I told Dottie, but that's the first time I've ever talked about it, and I still feel a lot of emotion." He continued: "I knew everyone in that truck would die, and it would all my fault because I wasn't on the truck with the M60. At first I just stood in the middle of the drive as trucks swerved around me. I felt sick. Then I walked over to the side of the road and sat down and cried. I literally grieved over the death of all my buddies. At some point a sergeant came over and asked if I was okay. I told him what happened, and he said to go back to my hutch (barracks). I felt sick with fear and guilt as I flung myself onto my bunk. But the worst part came when they all returned. I was relieved they weren't dead, but it was still in my mind that I'd killed them. And now I feared their taunts for not getting on the truck, but they were so into their own drama, that no one said a thing to me. I doubt if they thought anything about it. But I did, and I felt such shame." Again he couldn't speak, so we filled in with an attempt to understand and comfort. Finally he went on to say, "There is nothing like the Vietnam experience. That's why we feel so isolated from society. And the worst of it is that the public doesn't want to hear about it. They not only didn't receive us as heroes when we returned, they even hated us for having been involved. It was a totally 'no win' situation. And nothing can ever make up for it, or make it right." There was no self-pity or attempt for sympathy in his voice, he was simply stating a fact as he, and most Vietnam vets, experience it." This was my first reality of the devastation of that Vietnam War. Oh, I'd seen movies, like Jane Fonda and John Voight in "Coming Home," or Tom Hanks in "Forest Gump," but that wasn't real to me; it was a movie, and it was acting. World War II Memories On the other hand, I clearly remember World War II; though I was only nine-years-old when Pearl Harbor was bombed on that December 7, 1941 day. Yet, that war was real, because I lived at Bonneville Dam, Oregon, and I knew we were a prime target for Japanese bombs. I lived in fear of every plane that went overhead, and I hid under the car in the garage when I heard their motors. Of course, we weren't bombed, but the possibility was very real. And as I grew up, I knew all about gas and sugar rationing, and I participated in the Victory Corps, and I sang Victory Songs. I even knew the words, in their language, of some of our allied national anthems. I hadn't thought about these events, until watching the 1998 Olympics and seeing the red sun on the Japanese flags, and watching the Japanese waving happily as they cheered on their teams and athletic heroes. But the memories surfaced of the Newsreel pictures of the slant-eyed hari-kari pilots diving into our ships. And, of course, how could anyone forget Pearl Harbor? After all, we were constantly told: Remember Pearl Harbor. And we did. I simply couldn't believe my eyes or ears as I heard Louis Zamborini tell his story at the Closing Ceremonies of the Olympics. I asked, "Why are they bringing up all these memories now? It's not fair to the Japanese, and it's not fair to us." The pictures and story of Louis's capture and imprisonment were horrific, and I felt those programmed feelings of hate again surface. But Louis's story was being told to illustrate his ability to forgive and feel love for his one-time enemy. They even showed "then and now" pictures of his captor and torturer, an officer they called The Bird. And Louis talked of his efforts to again face the man, and express love and forgiveness. However, it was too much for the elderly Japanese, and he refused. I hadn't realized that these feelings were still part of me, and I acknowledged that mine too must be forgiven and replaced with love. It wasn't enough to say "out of sight, out of mind." The repressed feelings must be allowed to surface, and then be freed. And I began to see that Louis's story must be told, so that all of us could heal those memories and allow forgiveness and love to replace and prevail. And life could go on at a new level. I thought the war scenario's were over, but the evening after we returned from visiting The Moving Wall, we watched on TV, America During the 40's. I'd expected this to be a musical, but it was actually an entire rehash of the horrors of World War II; with a few sentimental war songs added. "Okay, already, what's going on here?" I wondered. Why are they reactivating all these war memories? Perhaps they're trying to stir up some good old American patriotism in the prospect of another war. This one with Iraq and Saddam Hussein. But, fortunately, the war was postponed as an Agreement was reached. A Different Kind of Lent Well, yes, but there's more to this story. While returning from The Wall, on a relocated trolley shuttle, I noticed a young lady with a dark circle on her forehead. "She must be from India," I thought. And soon I saw a young man also with ashes on his forehead. And I remembered. "Of course, it's Ash Wednesday: the beginning of Lent." As a minister, I usually participate in all religious holidays and events, but we were enjoying our retirement in our motor home, by wintering at this gambling resort town, Laughlin. Perched atop a hillside overlooking a panoramic view of the Colorado River, the rolling desert hills, and the jagged mountains that beautifully reflect the sunrise and sunsets with a pink glow, the Lenten season had come upon me unexpectedly. But Lent is not to be ignored, because it's a time of preparation for Easter, and I like to participate by changing patterns of limitation that God always brings to my attention during this season, whether I'm ready, or like it, or not. Seeing Life From a Different Viewpoint So, the morning after Ash Wednesday, I selected a spiritual magazine, Unity, in hopes of inspiration and motivation for the Lenten season. Much to my surprise, the monthly theme, What if You Saw Beauty in Everything, for Lent, is about changing our way of looking at things. In other words, seeing life from a different viewpoint, which is basically the idea for this book: seeing everything through the eyes of love. As I review the events I've mentioned in this chapter, needless to say, God has been giving me experiential aides, as usual. They go beyond visual aides, by giving me an experience of the lesson involved, which will be the concept of this book. Every lesson in love will be based on an experience during our travels. Now, it all begins to make sense: the war memories were surfacing to be faced and freed; and to be replaced with love and forgiveness. With all this in mind, let me return to what we've seen so far through the eyes of love. We're learning to forgive and love our enemies from World War II, and the Vietnam War. And to love them as God loves them; not as enemies, but with Unconditional Love. That's what Louis Zamborini learned from his conversion with Billy Graham, and it's what he now teaches and lives. It was the purpose of his trip to Japan during the 1998 Olympics. And it occurs to me that forgiveness and love are the lessons that the Vietnam Vets ultimately must learn and practise. Beginning with forgiving the American people and government. And finally forgiving and loving the enemies of the Vietnam War. As I'm writing, I'm wondering if there isn't a lot more to the forgiveness and love lessons of the Vietnam War. Perhaps there is a need to include themselves on some level, and their families too. But, of course, this is not a lesson that only their generation must learn. It applies to us all, in every generation. I've spent many years, and gone through intense pain as I've met and healed my inner child; and learned to forgive and love her, and ask her forgiveness and love for the lifetime of neglect. Now we are friends, and we are happy, as one. Part of the healing process has been to understand her deeply buried feelings of not being wanted, which evolved from my having been adopted at an early age, and to reassure her that my mother's mental and physical illness was not her fault. Though most children feel that everything revolves around them, they must learn that these events were due to circumstances that really had nothing to do with them. The truth is that the parents were supposed to be taking care of the children; not the other way around. So we have tremendous Responsibility Factor issues that the Vietnam Vets are dealing with resulting from the lack of parenting skills by their parents. Parents who were themselves victims of multi-generational dysfunctional parenting. So, even without the Vietnam War, the need to understand, and to forgive and love their parents and their inner child is a first step in healing and recovery. Good Will Hunting This lesson was brought to my attention in a recent experiential aide in the movie Good Will Hunting, about a twentysomething guy with deep emotional scars from being raised by an alcoholic father, who physically and emotionally abused the boy. As a result, the child, Will, grew into a hardskinned, indifferent person unable to function in the world, or deal with intimacy in his relationships. His was a classic example of rebellion, despite his superior intelligence and good looks. The movie tells the story of an unconventional psychiatrists methods of relating with his client. The young man finally reaches the place in recovery where the counselor says, "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault." The boy's hard shell wilts before our eyes, and he finally grabs the man and cries. This process opened the door to allow him to feel, to become successful, and ultimately to love. It Isn't My Fault Those of us who have been terribly hurt by life's blows, must heal our inner child, and learn to love and forgive, and then to live life as whole human beings. This is the place I am, after writing many books about my own healing process and recovery. And then I wrote about Van's recovery as he too went through the process of healing his inner child, whom we lovingly call "Little Ralph." He too shed tears with Good Will Hunting, as he watched the movie, and identified with the tough guy who learned, "It wasn't my fault." These are the same words that healed my inner child, who asked to be called Joanie, a term of endearment from childhood, before adoption, when I still lived with my natural parents and maternal grandparents. But that story has already been told. This is a new story. |