Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

I think it was Eckhart Tolle who said, “not everyone is going to like you, not everyone liked Jesus”. Can you imagine that? Jesus was about love and equality and yet, we have people who didn’t care for his message. Why might that be? My guess is people weren’t open to the emotional logic and maturity of Jesus’ teachings. It didn’t feel safe to consider the concept of equality. It threatens the ego (mind) and since we have settled into fear as our most primary of emotions, the concept of domination (over others and nature) has taken a strong hold over humanities psyche and safety always seems to be at the crux of this tactic.
As far as safety is concerned, we’ve been taught to believe it’s mostly a financial game. If I am more important than you (cuz I have money), then I have a reason to get my way over yours. Of course that does play out by believing in a superiority over others mentality. Hence why the money stays within the 1% in this country. All of this of course then aptly justifies (in the minds of these precious few) why I have food when you don’t, have a big house, more money, material ease, personal comforts, get my way…..the list is endless).
What I’ve learned is money has little to do with our emotional success (a feeling of safety and connection to others) and that a sense of peace and wholeness does not come from a high income (isn’t Trump the epitome of proof?). Based on my experience, I feel safest when I have stability and with that a feeling of safety arises. When I feel stable, I feel safe, I can trust more and isn’t that what’s continually being threatened? Personal trust and safety is a COMMODITY and it’s one we’ve naively handed over to our persecutors (Corporations , the 1% not our neighbors) and then blindly believe it’s those whom we’ve given our power to who will save us when in fact they’re using or fears or inability to trust as the very weapons they wield against us (trump, media)?
It’s not about how much we have but rather- Can I depend on what I have to continue? Since that would imply an ability to control all aspects of life, including those I love, my boss, my clients, my friends and traffic (as a few examples) I could be screwed… SO the only way to truly create safety for myself is from within. It’s a courageous act, as it implies trust must already exist (on some level) and self-acceptance must be diligently applied, so we can learn how to accept and trust others. This is the how I keep moving forward-knowing I have the right to ind my mind otherwise I will only see the fear based teachings and I want more of my own power back I want to CHOOSE what I see.



I said, “I love you”, “that’s a good class you’re taking”, I heard in return.
Pain seared through my chest and lungs, unable to breathe and positive this was the same sensation as a branding iron being applied to the hide of any beast.

Later, by many years, as I approached the walkway of the ex boyfriend, my legs became numb and arms hung alongside my body like dead weight. Unable to lift them, I waited outside the barred up entrance without ringing the bell. Eventually the swelling in my chest-the rapid successions of my heartbeat grew unbearable and just as I felt my legs begin to collapse the door opened as by “open sesame”. Turns out I was being watched. The neighbor upon seeing me intermittently over the last several months recognized me-maybe even took pity and released the gate. I knew it wasn’t my most recent love that let me in, as he never would, which ultimately was the problem. Yet I clung as I did, past the expiration date hoping that what was left, what had turned sour, could still be salvaged and enjoyed like the white creamy sauce I so often used way too much of on top of my mashed potatoes or tostada salad.

This was my cross…unreturned sentiment. The choice seems to remain, aloof or alone. Which would you prefer? Of course this is a trick question, as aloof ultimately leaves one feeling alone, so in picking door number one, I always wind up with the grand prize I get to take both showcases home- because I am lucky. At least that’s what my mother said.

Anytime something good occurred her response would be, “you always were lucky”. It was said, and once it was, I was left standing there alone with my prize. No glory, no pat on the back and certainly without a hug. I don’t remember once being told the very basic and most simple response: good job. Thusly I fight everyday for that response but even now, once it given, it falls flat. Flat as a board…which I was for most of my adolescence-which was great fodder for teasing but now that flatness within my chest means all praise all compliments all acknowledgement doesn’t give rise-the proverbial coin drops, but as it does, it rolls silently beyond my chest, slipping right down-to the cement floor without ever entering my heart. I want the love to come but only from that elusive one. As I stand, there remains an invisible pot of gold beneath my feet and ultimately beyond my grasp.

Now, instead of feeling lucky, I felt scared. I wanted to weep with fright and then scream with painful rage, WHY CAN’T YOU…..just…. love…. me? Why won’t you show your care for me? I know it’s there, I know it’s there. How can you be so cold …”cold sonofabitch”, were his words exactly.

My mother never believed herself to be cold. Nope. She was instead (and this is the best-please catch the sarcasm here) a realist. Maybe you’ve heard that word when you too were trying to grasp for some sense of understanding but instead were only slapped with non-available, non-feeling, lack luster “logic”. Her reality was that I was bad and along with that, the reason her existence was in fact, paltry. “If it weren’t for you…” Victimhood never felt so good as when she was blaming a seven year old for her life’s circumstances and being that I hid myself within her womb for 5 months without her realizing of my existence, I now realize, there could be some truth to this faux logic…. the morning sickness masked as a hangover, I was sure to be birthed vs. aborted at this point in the pregnancy and therefore choice wasn’t playing in the same park it once was, now it became child or an adoption? Maybe that was a tougher decision than child or no child?

At the beginning, it was asked. What would I do? I of course gave the correct answer….and I meant it, until I didn’t and when I didn’t know if I could follow through with that original response, when I began to wonder what life would be like, he spoke in way that I wanted to hear but knew he didn’t mean beyond this moment. He said it….”if you were… I would want you to keep it”. I retaliated by scolding him. It was a gentle tap- a swift, “don’t say that” due to the silent heartbreak unfolding quickly within me-a panic really, another form of collapse taking place within my chest. Knowing that he would quickly denounce any such sentiment with a break up of the relationship….a short 3 days later, I tried to protect myself, feigned indifference when the only thing that mattered were those few small words. So much so I bring them with me now.

Perhaps many who have been adopted do thank their mothers for the strength it takes to perform such an act. Those 9 months of pregnancy would be the closest my mother would ever come to holding me again. And because of this training, I seek more of those who cannot hold me. As for him, the adoption saved his life, but would he ever allow for his emotional life to be fully birthed or was that aspect of his life-the ability to connect with a woman- forever cut with the snip of the umbilical cord? Was the vulnerability of birth itself the most naked he would ever become? Would he ever be willing to be held?

I didn’t agree with him. I wanted to take a stand on his behalf, demonstrate understanding. Coolness of heart wasn’t the true cause his reactions, it was his tenderness that leapt forward, which without thought was squashed into a wadded paper ball and splayed itself out again as anger, indifference or as a marble statue.
I wanted to create a connection-to be what he has not yet experienced-a seer of his soul-it was fear that spoke-that caused him to push others aside, but now that I have become completely enmeshed-now that I love him-the unreturned texts, the ignored emails, the broken promises…the non responsive stare in the other direction….rip open all wounds, all flesh burning with salt and lemon, the fire searing my heart- demanding at a pitch sure to crack glass- when only a brief time ago the fire was used to ignite candles and sustain romance till dawn.

A few different men have accused me of being an idealist throughout my life, like there is something wrong with this, let’s read this again, but this time in a Jewish mothers voice…Like there’s something wrong with this? Now the personality stakes have grown in fact- more personal- as a most recent conversation with a man caused him to double down. Now, I’ve become a pathetic idealist. Oy Vey is all I can say…that or slit my wrist…now does that sound like the talk of an idealist to you? How little these men understand me. What they need to be saying is, you’re an idealist in your ideal world aren’t you? Well, yes…yes, I am thank you but in this life, I am merely someone struggling to survive. Someone who is constantly battling the wound of loneliness and thinking that maybe you’d like to help solve this? No…I didn’t suspect as much. Not to say that I blame you, as its been a fairly daunting task for me and I have plenty at stake here whereas you have zero to gain from helping me release this nuisance called pain. This is definitely a one-woman job.

The village approach to raising me could have been an ideal situation. Where one can’t be, another can take over, but when people are playing the game hot potato, the goal is to rid yourself of the potato because its going to burn your hand lest you toss immediately…Ole! Needless to say…I was the unwanted type of carb…like a stale loaf of bread…and not the delicious cherry pie crust that while not necessarily good for you, tasty and worth the decadent indulgence nonetheless. From neighbor, to babysitter, to aunties, to grannies, back to babysitter, home briefly and off I went again to whoever was caught answering the telephone.

I am learning that if someone doesn’t take time for me, doesn’t actually want to make room for me, it’s okay. It’s not a mandate of unworthiness. As my old friend used to say (maybe upwards of twenty times a day) “It is what it is” but that’s logical and being a person who lives with emotion too, logic has little ability to temper emotional hotspots.

Being lucky was something I thought would continue throughout my entire existence. I thought that the universe thought “me special” and I did in fact have many random acts of kindness imbued upon me in my twenties. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize at the time it had little to do with luck as much as young female beauty and the probable hopes that, that beauty was surrounded by loads of naivety. To which it was and it wasn’t. I was always told I was “very smart” and that I was “mature”. Now upon looking back, I see where so much of that wasn’t true but for them, those who claimed it, actually believe it so and I can only say from the inside out how little of it was true. I can see the mistakes, the absurdity of it all but that’s from my damaged lens of little self -forgiveness.

And now he’s reduced me to “needy”, and of course the always popular, “crazy”. I think every man I have ever spoken with has used that goddamn phrase, which is lazy and filled with ignorance. Their inability to understand, they’re lack of desire to learn and understand has in fact been what’s coined the term, “crazy bitch”, same thing for needy. I can’t give…so you are needy and in fact the problem. The real problem isn’t me or isn’t him, it’s the lack of desire to go beyond the top layer into real understanding-depth, connection. It’s the porn addicted-surface image-media driven sell, sell, sell mentality that has taught all of us that feeling is useless and connection not necessary when all you have to do is buy something new or jerk off to someone you never have to touch or in fact get to know, someone who will never cause you the emotional discomfort of spiritual growth and mental maturity. Yet, we know it doesn’t work. We get a blip of a high but those become shorter and shorter and sooner or later and maybe it’s another lifetime later-that we have to realize, I am unfulfilled.

I have often chastised myself for being unhappy, for having less than playful reactions to others but then I just sat in truth-most people are unhappy. Not that saying that has given me relief because of the comparing but simply because I am not longer believing that I am a bad person for this fact. I am learning to transfer my thoughts of how awful I am as a person into how average I am and how it’s okay to accept myself as this person who is unhappy and then decide if there are steps I want to take to bring myself a bit more joy or self acceptance. That’s all and honestly as things have been this last month, I am not sure if I am capable. I am not making choices that bring me any real relief. I am working for a man who is lovely but I can’t do it anymore He hasn’t any respect for me and doesn’t value what I bring, which has been the theme of my life. Then I wonder, how much of that is programmed thinking and how much of it is true due to “law of attraction”. Am I drawing in those who have no clue how to value me or am I merely creating it through my habitual thought response patterns? I see it happening with Matt. How he thinks something-the same thing he has thought many times before-no matter who it is that has said the offending thing to him, he hears me and responds to me the same as to his mother, he still says I am being sarcastic no matter how many times I tell him, that’s not who I am, thats your thinking. So he hears in ways that don’t serve him and I know that I am doing that too. That each of us does that too.

Don’t doubt your power as an individual. Do you know what would happen if each person decided to take one day off (and all on the same day) of not using their credit cards? Do you know what would happen if each person decided just for one day (and all on the same day) to not buy gas? You and I could affect change if we were willing to see ourselves as powerful, as someone who could make a difference and then used our light and creativity to affect change. It doesn’t need to be violent, it is weakness that creates violence. It takes strength, courage and applied thought to make effective life enhancing growth.

Lately I’ve been coming across a sign that reads, “Drive like your kids live here.” Every time I read it, I cringe. I hate it. It makes me mad. What’s meant to promote consciousness, care and concern is really only encouraging a narrow and selfish way of viewing life.

Every time I see one of those signs I want to go up to it with a spray paint can and put an X over the word “your”…thusly it would read, “drive like kids live here”. For me that is reason enough to slow down, to be a tad more cautious, to think, “thanks for the reminder,” children are scampering about here. That sign would then read to me as, “please have that in mind when passing through-at a reasonable speed with alert eyes”. That’s all I need. I don’t need to envision it as MY child that would be killed or hurt. I would care, no matter whose child was injured by my car. Wouldn’t most of us? Do we really believe in a world that is so callous that the only reason someone would drive slower is because it’s his or her flesh and blood being maimed? God, I should hope not. Yes, we see incidents of it happening all over the world, people are being bombed, killed, shot…and children are involved but how can we hope for a more caring and thoughtful world if we proliferate thinking that only directly affects our personal welfare?
We are being taught to not care about anyone else unless they are directly linked to us-blood first and maybe a neighbor second if it’s not too much of a bother.

In my world, I am open to supporting others who can’t support themselves, I am into teaching others new ways of seeing that’s inclusive rather than self-grandising, I am interested in helping for the sake of care and not self promotion, but more importantly I don’t do it for approval or to be a “good person”. I do what I do because it comes from my personal integrity and if we gave permission to ourselves to trust our own hearts, I doubt we’d ever conceive of a sign that in affect says, “care only because your direct bloodline will be affected”.

Experienced social interest documentary filmmakers, depth psychology researchers, and energy healers seek your stories.

Do you feel haunted by something that’s happened, by someone you’ve met, a memory from long ago, a touch that continues to linger…Is there a particular experience with another person or an event that just plagues your thoughts or continues to hold pain in your heart or body though “logically” it makes zero sense to you?

Do you want to understand why?

Think of this as a twitter feed (one or two sentences only) and write us with a brief outline of the event. We will provide an explanation that speaks to and includes your past lives.

Along with that we’ll also include what we believe is the soulful purpose to the previously unexplainable pain, longing or confusion.

If we choose your storyline, we will contact you and begin a dialogue after we’ve presented our initial “take” on your specific circumstance.

By responding to this ad, you are giving permission for this conversation to be viewed publically on our blog and for possible use in an upcoming TV production.

I just saw the Fathead commercial with an infant/toddler hugging a decal of his dad that was affixed to the wall. It was meant to serve as a replacement for his dad who was in the military service. Why they think it’s a good idea to have a flatten, dead image of his dad, who can’t show him any affection I will never know! It was painful to watch this little one reach out to a cold wall. Perhaps he is being set up for a lifetime of feeling a wall between he and his father-a hidden memory of reaching out and getting nothing in return. Once his father does come home, who’s to say that intimacy and care is something he will allow himself to feel anymore. War often creates a barricade around the heart of those who live just to survive. His physical body will return but will his capacity to feel and love be present too? One can only hope he will be able to get the emotional support and care needed to recover from his wartime experience.

Righteous anger. This is a phrase I have come across while reading a prolific contributor to our society, Rudolf Steiner. His contributions to mankind (in medicine, farming, education, spiritual development, to name a few) are continuing to blossom nearly a century after his death.

He wrote, “For the spiritual scientist, anger is also the harbinger of something quite different. Life shows us that a person who is unable to flare up with anger at injustice or folly will never develop true kindness and love. Equally, a person who educates himself through noble anger will have a heart abounding in love, and through love he will do good. Love and kindness are the obverse of noble anger. Anger that is overcome and purified will be transformed into the love that is its counterpart. A loving hand is seldom one that has never been clenched in response to injustice or folly. Anger and love are complementary”
Hear, hear, I feel vindicated. I have been given permission to accept myself and beyond that presented an understanding that feels in alignment to my truth. I have so often felt shame for my reactions to situations-either through a very uncomfortable silence which is then followed by the “moving right along” shift in conversation or through a direct hit, “wow you have anger issues”. Our culture has made it as challenging for a woman who expresses anger, as it has for a man who expresses fear. The judgments thrown our way are so prolific that many of us have learned to cut out the middleman and just slam ourselves (usually quite mercilessly) and through the use of culturally taught condemnation have cornered our esteem somewhere in a dank basement.
Non-Violent Communication training (NVC), the process created by Marshall Rosenberg, was another place where I learned another level of self-acceptance for what has been called my, “not so lady-like” expression. It was through his gracious approach to viewing individuals, that I understood that anger is akin to a warning light in a car. A successful approach to this “warning signal” would be to consider something’s happening, what’s needed to help the car feel (run) better? We never say the car has issues and simply leave it at that, usually we tend to its warning signal and apply the necessary care needed to help it run smoothly. Yet with people were prone to treat them with much less care.
So often my warning light starts to flash (maybe the first blush of anger starts to rise) when I feel alone and really want understanding. Through the use of NVC I learn how to take care of that need and nip anger in the bud, as in those cases it’s usually not so much a righteous anger as it might be a long winded rant. Nonetheless, it’s a process that lends itself to understanding and not flogging.
Dr. Mario Martinez, the founder of the Biocognitive Science Institute, encourages righteous anger as a pathway for individuals with disease or illness towards health and well-being. I appreciate him taking a stand for anger. Personally I could use the advocate, but I have wondered if what he’s encouraging is simply the expression of the ego and not really righteous anger? Am I moving steadily towards enlightenment or just spewing hell fire? Could I claim noble anger as my companion or was I just having a hissy fit?
I used to say, I’m not angry, I’m passionate, I applied that rationale as a means of protection from men who labeled me “crazy” and as a defense from women who liked to think they were better than me because they weren’t like me-they kept their emotions in line. And in fact this play on words was a strategy I was enacting in attempts to forgive myself for “acting out”, It didn’t work because I unknowingly bought into that masculine taught value (which is purported as the “right” approach to our emotional existence) and was attempting to deny the existence of anger by calling it something much more beautiful, la pasión. That approach is not that far off from Steiner’s conceit but there is a lot digging one has to undergo in order for that transformation from noble anger to loving-kindness to actually come forth. One has to identify what type of anger one is participating in the first place.
Thusly, I have often felt alone and embarrassed for my moments of anger and found myself buying so heavily into the social construction that being emotional was bad that I often found myself apologizing for my very existence (the shadow of the feminine energetic). Through Steiner and Rosenberg’s heartfelt insights (the positive feminine energies) I have learned a balanced approach to my emotions, where denying them isn’t prescribed. I may curtail them to gain insight and self -awareness, but I do not deny them to gain others favor. Fortunately for me as I age, growth has occurred through my diligent pursuit of wanting to being an authentically caring person (healthy, true, honest, empowered/empowering). I have come to a richer understanding of my emotional life and it’s purposefulness.
My saving grace has come through learning the difference between indignation and righteousness, high minded vs. disgruntled anger. There are numerous examples of disgruntled, ego based (fear driven) organizations and persons who believe they are doing the “right” thing while causing harm to others on the behalf of their beliefs. Disgruntled indeed!
One way I have learned to identify this ego motivated anger within me is was if I wanted someone to feeeeel my pain. My fuel is then most likely indignant anger and therefore all actions taken from that stance will only perpetuate pain and suffering rather than create long term solutions that heal.
So if one considers Steiner’s words, “When a person educates himself through noble anger he will abound in love”, then it must follow that the obverse to ego based anger is thoughtfulness and if this is so, the motivation for taking action is derived from an entirely different energetic.
Thoughtfulness doesn’t mean being kind, it means taking the time for introspection and rumination. It means applied focus and concentration. Towards what end is up to you. The clearest formula I have found suitable for distinction is: Separation thinking (ego/indignant anger) vs. solution-oriented healing (noble/high minded righteous anger).
Is the mind creating more problems by harboring us against them thinking or is it searching for answers, which could bring harmonious outcomes? Complaining for the sake of relief or ridicule is the ego’s mechanism for steering you directly away from love, which is the highest mind available. Feeling moved to make a difference though means of supportive and creative processes transforms indignation and personal anger into is the healing expression of love in action. This is why Steiner included in his above statement that, “Anger that is overcome and purified will be transformed into the love that is its counterpart”. It takes willingness on our part to go beyond personal suffering and, like the NVC mascot, the giraffe, see above the situation. By having the fortitude to approach anger for the gift that it is, rather than something to be shunned, we can curtail its negative effects on others as well as ourselves and use it as a serviceable vehicle of transformation.

I went to a Marianne Williamson fundraiser this past weekend. I left feeling awful. I had the notion to bring up a question and when I did my whole body began to shake and I felt fearful. It was shocking to me, because I had never considered myself shy or fearful to speak up in these type of situations. Yet, there I was, wobbly while sitting in my seat.

Eventually I decided to do it, the timing seemed right, Alanis Morissette just brought up being angry. It was my cue in. I asked if there was a way to take anger and make it righteous from the standpoint of bringing thought into it and then apply a new approach to it-taking the energy it provides and directing others into a way of thinking that doesn’t include the word, “evil”, as Marianne had used earlier in the day. Can there be a way to be angry and transmute that anger into a different conversation?

I will give you the very abbreviated version of her response. I was made into a “mambe-pambe spiritual person who wants people to like me”.
Woah…How crazy is that? SO FAR from who I am…its absurd.

Had she an ounce of GRACE or of that LOVE (words she so often likes to throw around) she would have simply addressed the question not come after me.

All she needed to say was that the word evil is the word she feels most comfortable using based on all the atrocities on our planet and that she just couldn’t describe it any other way.
Logical enough but instead I was met with all the grace of a sumo wrestler taking a yoga class. I wonder what triggered her so much that she felt the need to rip me down? Where in her is that anger still fueled by her own “evil” feelings that allows her to justify treating others like doormats?

I would have gladly supported her quest to congress (Waxman’s district/ 33rd) had I been allowed some understanding that didn’t include nailing me to a cross. I’m not the one running for public office, I am not expected to ferret out the tough questions (as she would be expected to do) but I guess she was just priming me for my own life in public!
I can’t support her. Not because I am hurt, I am clear enough to know what’s mine to process and what’s hers….but because she isn’t the person she claims to be, but I already guessed that…which is why she spit back a response towards me rather than offer a thoughtful return to love (this is one of her book titles) based reply.

Clearly disappointed in the experience but will continue believing that someone like Marshall Rosenberg or Eckhart Tolle may one day have more influence in the world than evil or the fragile ego of Marianne Williamson. Who I’m sure would love to bludgeon me at this point.

NPR ran a story about boys and bulimia. It shared how boys are being affected by the images portrayed in the media. The story spoke of how G.I. Joe dolls have become more muscular over the years and how hard it is for a boy to feel acceptance of his body based on the recent cultural images portrayed. Another area of the concern over the boys who are binging and purging, was how uncomfortable it is for boys to enter into small groups of support and therapy, which were primarily made up of women, it said they felt “like a fish out of water”. It’s my guess that a belief in not fitting in within the community at large was what led these boys into this particular disorder in the first place. Anyone else ever feel that way?

To which I have to ask, is it so terrible to feel uncomfortable? Is it possible that these boys will grow into men who now have the capacity for compassion towards women and humanity in a more general sense? Will they now stand along side those who feel challenged in some way vs. judging them?

These boys may choose to grow into understanding adult men whose own experiences will breed acceptance of others. They may viscerally grasp how hard it is to be a female-a human being-an equal-who has, though misguided reason, been vilified, disregarded and objectified throughout history. Maybe a deeper and innate understanding of just how damaging it has been on the female emotional and mental psyche may not only be shared but garner respect. Binging and purging is one expression for unspoken pain and it’s no longer being limited to the female population.

One aspect of this report that caused me deep consternation however was how they blatantly ignored to speak of the elephant in the room. The objectification of the male physical form is a new phenomenon- little girls along with their female adult counterparts have been suffering due to advertising over the last few centuries and while it’s quite understandable that a young man may think, “ I don’t know what it is, but something about having an eating disorder as a boy and having an eating disorder as a girl makes it very different”, as an adult human being who has lived and experienced life longer, I strongly disagree with this hypothetical conclusion based solely on the basis of our genitals.

My guess is both girls and boys; men and women suffer from feelings of powerlessness, a belief in not being loveable and left with a craving for approval, a sense of belonging and safety. The only thing that makes it “different” for a boy or girl is ones refusal to see that all human beings suffer from the same thoughts and fears-they’re just worded differently.

The questions arise; will the callous indifference towards exploitation by media finally be addressed due to boys and men now being negatively affected? Can what was previously thought of as a “woman’s’ issue”, gain more serious consideration and thought towards remedying the conditions that lead to binging and purging, as its growing appearance in our population can now be referred to as a human concern?

This is an article I wrote when season 5 came to an end, knowing it’s an experience that happens in life all too often.

So many of us were raised in hostile or what felt as cold households simply because our parents or guardians were doing to us what was taught to them. To be punitive under the false belief that this is how love looks.  When in fact, loving and controlling are in opposite corners. Giving unwarranted commentary, which usually amounts to nothing more than personal opinion ( judgment) usually leaves a child feeling wrong, bad or stupid rather than understood and loved. Leaving the actual feeling of care as a foreign ideal. Hence,  most people are incapable of receiving  even the smallest of compliments.  Receiving authentic care is a frightening proposition, so much so, many of us haven’t the capacity to consider extending a caring attitude let alone take loving action.

Love  is what Don Draper wanted to express, control is what he demonstrated. Here are the results.

Watching Mad Men and how Don Draper who, motivated by Lane’s need for financial security, went guns blazing into Roger’s office. He demanded they go after the big dogs and win their business. He returned to his “take no prisoners” style of pitching clients and essentially told them,  were the agency for you and you’re idiots to settle for anyone else. Leaving them all a bit dumb struck. What he said was definitive and undoubtedly caused them to wonder, was he right? Strength of conviction, a courageous act and many of us lack that courage.

Sadly, Lane proved that he was definitely in the later category of men. Courage was no longer something he could muster or fake. Don hadn’t expressed this care for Lane out loud, instead Lane experienced a logical rational and a Don that, had to “go by the books”. As Lane wept uncontrollably, Don sat stone faced believing that Lane could start again, as he had. What Don didn’t realize was that Lane feeling bullied by life (deftly revealed by his father’s swift caning across Lane’s skull and his wife’s “you’ll do what I want” style of expressing her “care”) and emotionally vulnerable, defeat clung to his heart. Lane hanged himself in the office.

Of course the pain for all of us watching was knowing that Don was in fact a caring gentle man underneath the veneer of cool and composed.

Dons cascade into the abyss of adultery  is no doubt fueled by his guilt and shame. So while he is carrying the gene of shame, while quietly motivated by those very things we’d hope a hero would concern himself, he takes steps that will surely destroy him once again.

Don was the only man at the company, who didn’t want Joan to lie down for the Jaguar business. The man who understood that his marriage to Betty ended, partially due to his behaviors and denying his wife personal choice, cares about connection. There are countless examples of Don being the caring but silent and therefore misunderstood hero. Yes, he may regain his status  in the material world, but his heart bleeds with care and loneliness.  He’s a softy under it all. If only our world would value that care, Lane and Don’s stepbrother may still be alive. As Don see’s it, if he were a “good” person, then these tragedies could have been avoided. How do I surmise this? The visions he sees of his dead brother are one clue but he also leak his truth in every misstep and new folly he creates. In every silent crusade to assist the underdog he undergoes. If only he was able to talk, to share his heart, his concerns, his care, if only men were valued for their whole being rather than for the machismo masks they’re forced to conform. Don might be able to save himself from the lies about himself before it’s too late.


« Older Entries