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The only thing we have to do

9/27/2016

3 Comments

 
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​ When I was a kid complaining about chores, I would use my best whiny voice and ask “Do I have to …?”  I am guessing that you are familiar with that common refrain. ‘Do I have to pick up my toys? Do I have to wash the dishes?’  Whenever any of us kids complained, my father would respond, without fail, “The only thing you have to do is die”.  Ask any of my siblings and they will concur and recite that line in the particular dramatic cadence of my deep voiced, beret wearing father.  "The only think you have to do is die."  How do you argue with that? Because the truth is, if you really think about it, he was right. On a fundamental level – the only thing we really have to do is... die. 
 
We are all going to die. Dying is a universal experience that links everyone one of us.  Although I have been interested in death and dying for many years, I have been surprised to find myself immersed in this topic for the last three years, even before the tragic death of my brother. I became a hospice volunteer, am a core member of a monthly discussion group called Death Café,  I participate in a neighborhood book discussion group on death and dying and am constantly bringing the topic into discussions with friends, family and my women’s group. I’ll admit: I’m a little obsessed.
 
I find it curious that my post cult healing process has been accompanied by this exploration.  I have found the death/dying conversation to be paradoxically inspiring and life enhancing.  Perhaps because the violation that I experienced from Doug was primarily on a spiritual level, I am drawn to exploring anything to do with spirituality and therefore death. For now, I am gently holding the question about how the death discussion relates to cult recovery, and will certainly come back to it.
 
One thing that is very clear to me is that culturally, it's taboo to talk about death.  Why is this? And how might our lives be different if we actually integrated discussions about death into our daily lives? How might our finite lives be different if we, dare say, celebrated death, or even looked forward to it??   Looking forward to death? It’s a radical thought. But not as radical as you might think.
 
A week ago I met someone who literally can't wait to die. His name is Peter Panagore and nearly  60 people came out of the Vermont woods to hear this man speak on a Tuesday evening. The title of his talk was “How dying taught me that death is just the beginning.” I had already read his book about his near death experience, so I had an inkling of what was coming – but it did not prepare me. His presentation blew my mind. This man can't wait to die, because he already did once, up on a mountain when he was 20 years old, ice climbing. He died of exposure. He knows what it is to die and he wants to go back there. He describes, in incredible detail how he separated from his body, and experienced … the indescribable – sensations of profound beauty, joy and of being flooded with light and surrounded by exquisite harmony and loved unconditionally - so completely beyond any worldly experience. Today, Peter wants to die, because he knows, unequivocally, that he is going back to that wondrous place.
 
Mr Panagore is not alone with this experience. Millions of people all around the globe have had near death experiences.  After the talk, I did a web search and found the website for the International Association for Near Death Studies (IANDS). They have documented millions of near death experiences, and studied the themes, many of them, very similar to Mr Panagore’s experience. The IANDS researchers report that the after effects of a near death experience are overwhelmingly positive: nearly 80% claim that they have less anxiety, no longer fear death and have a greater sense of life purpose.
 
The IANDS website has many resources – many of which connect to research and scholarly papers completed by Astrophysicists and Quantum Physics gurus who have proved and/or are proving that consciousness does not end when the body dies. The self does not die. In fact, they say that consciousness and matter exist in an incomprehensively multidimensional reality that can only really be understood as divine.
 
But I still have this question: if consciousness and the proof of divine reality after death are so amazing, why do we not want to talk about it? Heck, even if we don’t buy it, that despite those millions of first-hand accounts to the contrary, and we think that the end is just the end, there is still a big question in my mind: Why are we as a culture, so reluctant to talk about death?
 
Since we are all going to die, why not embrace death as an integral part of life? I can say that as a hospice volunteer and as a member of a Death Café discussion group my life has been profoundly enriched through facing into death unapologetically, with honesty and curiosity. And to this end, I want to invite you to do something that might make you feel uncomfortable – to speak with one person this week about death – a loved one, a friend or a complete stranger, and just see what happens. Be open to the miraculous. Since (in the words of my late father) the only thing we really have to do is die then let’s embrace it with the wonder and honesty of a vibrant life.  
 
 

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Summer 2016: The Agony and the Ecstasy 

9/5/2016

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I just turned my desk calendar to September and I am wearing shorts below and three layers on top. We haven’t broken 65 degrees in this part of VT for three days now, but I’m enjoying these shorts nonetheless. It feels a bit vain to say this, but I like wearing shorts right now because my legs are actually tan – a rare occurrence for this white-skinned northern Vermonter. Most years my legs are so white that I’m shy to wear shorts in public. Seeing some color on my legs is a warm affirmation of this extraordinary summer that ironically, I am so glad is over.
Last week I wrote in my journal something like “I have never had a summer of such fun, splendor and joy and I have never been so happy to be approaching September.” When I returned home from the annual Baggins Girls weekend in Cape May NJ on August 21st, which is always the most fun weekend of the entire year, I was concluding my sixth major trip or vacation this summer! In addition, I also went to my family reunion, buried my father’s ashes in the Adirondacks, made multiple trips to MA for family, pleasure and education, sent our daughter Sophie off to Kyrgyzstan and the list goes on.  All this, while a part of me longed to simply be at home, to tend the chickens, the bees and the steady flow of guests in our Dream Haven cottage.
Sleeping in my own bed for this past week has been a delicious necessity. I have needed to be very close to home this week and my body has made darn sure that I don’t stray too far. Since the end of March, which is when our summer really began with our trip to Baja Mexico, I have been riding a rollercoaster of bodily … let’s call it sensations, for now.
In sharp contrast to my otherwise glorious summer of delight, the last 5 months have dished out some hearty doses of physical challenge: a recurring bronchial struggle that would simply not go away for more than a couple weeks, a hyper thyroid, a smashed elbow, a couple more private, shall we say, ‘conditions’ that were bizarre and then, right at the end of the summer… migraines! They started in Cape May, where I was relaxed, laughing and savoring the sun, wind and waves and continued right through to the end of August. Talk about intense!  I have so much compassion now for my friends who get migraines. I also have compassion for myself and for my journey – inner and outer - this summer.
Part of me wants to linger with you, sharing each one of the many highlights of the summer of 2016. But for my blog, I am most interested in sharing the bigger picture – like why it is such a big deal for our family to take a vacation in the first place.
My husband, Bob and I have been together for over thirty years and until now; we were not good at taking vacations. Sure, we have had a few fantastic ones – but in truth, excluding this summer, I could count them on one hand. This is surely due in part to our choice to live modestly and our struggle to plan ahead. There is of course, another factor that weighs heavily here: our 19 year odyssey with CTL.
In addition to the weekly or bi-weekly individual therapy sessions, each level of membership in CTL required increasing levels of both volunteer hours and the number of required annual retreats. Because Doug is not licensed he cannot accept insurance and all therapy, events, retreats and travel were paid for out of pocket. As you can imagine, our pockets were continually being emptied for this work that we both were so devoted to and there was little left for family vacations. For years and years, Bob and I would leave our kids with friends, family, and paid babysitters to attend anywhere from two to five retreats a year. When we couldn’t afford a retreat, Doug was “generous” and allowed us (and others) to create a payment plan account. Our combined balance due grew to nearly 10K between us.
I need to pause. When I wrote that last sentence, about the payment plan being $10,000, I felt my stomach drop. I need to take a breath and ride some waves of shame, self-condemnation and anger that just rose up. Part of me wants to delete that sentence and move on, but I am learning that my healing process includes honesty and a lot of self-compassion. In this moment, I am aware of some nasty internal and external voices and the sting of shame – and I also feel a deeper stirring within me.
It is my passion to bring awareness of destructive groups into the world, for talking about the taboo subject of cults, for naming the personal loss that ensues from these all too pervasive dynamics and when I speak honestly, I feel empowered. And there is power in naming the specifics – like the $10,000 payment plan that kept me deeply indebted to Doug, ensuring a continued dynamic of power-over. And yes, I chose to attend each retreat and each class that I could not afford. What was unnamed however is that this ‘choice’ was imposed by a highly controlled, hierarchical system. I firmly and naively believed that each retreat or each class would bring me one step closer to the promised enlightenment that would allow me to someday enjoy the level of spiritual and financial freedom that Doug and the head teachers enjoyed. I was hooked in, line and sinker.  I understand now that Doug, consciously or not, was promoting a relationship of dependency by his ‘generous’ offer to allow his clients to create a payment plan for services that they could not afford. I now know that this practice is illegal and is a tactic that narcissists use to ensure that their ‘subjects’ remain grateful and dependent on them. Learning to recognize this pattern is an essential tool for self-empowerment.
Bob saw the writing on the wall and left CTL and his work with Doug over a year before I did. We noticed a significant relief in our family budget then but I was still completely bought in and this extra breathing room only gave me greater license to increase my commitment to the group. It was not until I snapped out of my blind devotion on May 28, 2014 that I could begin to see the impact that my choices made on our family. As you can imagine, there are many, many layers here that I will explore through this blog.
I don’t know why the last 5 months have been riddled with physical complaints - perhaps it is all circumstance and just part of the post 50 woes. Or perhaps there is a link between the stressors of the past being finally catching up with me on a physical level. Or perhaps in some mysterious, homeopathic way, my ailments are actually part of my healing process. Or maybe it is a little of all of this. For today, I am deeply grateful for a week of feeling strong again, enjoying the brisk air of approaching autumn with vigorous walks, a great hike and even a little jogging through the woods!
For today, I am choosing compassion for myself and for my husband and our children in acknowledging why we had so few family vacations. It is painful and yet, we cannot change the past, only bring ourselves more fully into the present moment and bring more intention to our future.  Based on our 2016 track record, I will raise a glass to cultivating rich life experiences more on the ecstasy spectrum and less of the agony.  And I have reason to believe that I just might be savoring tan legs next summer too! 

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1 Comment

    Gerette Buglion

    Writer
    Reiki Teacher
    Cult Awareness Educator 

    My blog is a place where I write what is rising to the top, like cream, and wants to be shared.  Through writing, I am reclaiming a part of me that was left behind during a 18-year odyssey with a smart but destructive teacher and the high control group that developed around him. By sharing honestly, I hope to increase awareness of the prevalence of cultic dynamics both here in idyllic  VT and worldwide. For the record, I am choosing to not name the group or the group leader. I refer to the group as “CTL” and the leader as “Doug”. Additionally, I change the names of family members, friends and acquaintances near and far to honor their privacy.
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