Sunday, January 21, 2018

Lightening My Load

It's been a hard week for me.  Heavy, heavy lifting in so very many ways.

I still tire easily from surgery. 

And although the weather has warmed, the nights are chill which, generally, means waking up to a cold house. My wood stove is certain to burn down to embers by morning, especially as I am still limited in bending and lifting which makes stacking the overnight wood load a bit more challenging than usual. 

So it’s harder to assure a warm house in the morning. With that, I am inclined to spend a longer time, gazing out my bedroom window at the trees in the mornings, the sky and the clouds that are visible, as I lay cozy under my down comforter, giving the fire recently fanned a bit more time to heat the house.

This is often my best time of day, anyway; the time when I am seeking the pin hole in the universe that opens the gates to vaster wonders than here on the earth plane.  So I don’t much mind this slowed down morning pace. I use it well.

Along with my other challenges these days, what has been getting me down most is that I have had no word back yet from the Ethics Co-Chairs of the association, the International Transactional Analysis Association (ITAA), to whom I am making my ethics complaint.

Initially two men who are the co-chairs, apparently, sent an email that was forwarded to me from the organization official I contacted at the outset, to begin the process. I was troubled somewhat by that forwarded message. It seemed cold and calculating; not at all giving me a sense that I would be treated caringly ahead. 

Did that mean I was opening a door, with my ethics complaint, that would bring me the kind of victim blaming, organization-minimizing women, especially, so often encounter in registering grievances of this nature? 

Of course, responses such as these on the part of businesses and organizations will result in sexual assault victims holding back truths that need to be shared, if healthy milieus are to be sustained. However, this time, in the current climate of sexual assault scandals and the #MeToo movement, I was certain I would not back down, again! What else I might do, I didn’t yet know. 

Nonetheless, the initial response to me by these officials, the ITAA Ethics Co-Chairs, put me on alert for a need to proceed with caution. I was stymied and scared by this, especially as the association representative , headquartered just outside San Francisco, who was my initial contact, was a very caring and compassionate woman. 

So after some serious contemplation on the matter, with much soul searching as to what to do next, and several professional consultations, I responded to the Ethics Co-Chairs, copied to my original contact, with a painstakingly careful email that I thought to be in a manner that would help us move forward, in spite of my initial discomfort.

It has now been over a week without my hearing further from these officials who, given my review of the ITAA Professional Practices and Ethics standards, I assumed would be working to support me through the process of my complaint.

How very odd and taken aback I am by this. 

However, I pledge to not become unduly reactive for my part of handling this process, unnerving as it is, already, at times, and, therefore, let my upset thoughts and feelings, on the matter, rest for a time. Thus allowing time for the ITAA Ethics Co-Chairs to exhibit their best intentions on my doorstep.

This is one way I am lightening my load. And, thankfully, circumstances around me are aiding this touch of emotional regeneration for which I am striving.

For example, in spite of both the emotional and physical exhaustion I am feeling at present, today I am especially uplifted by the courage, as well as vulnerability, I have been witnessing as I read about and, sometimes view, the victims of Larry Nassar present their impact statements in the court of his hearing.

Aly Raisman’s fierceness -- and – her clarity about, not only the abuses of Nassar, but those also of the organizations that enabled him, coupled with the pain, so visible in all these women and their family members in this case,  is good medicine for me today.

When I wrote my piece a bit ago about Ms. Raisman’s book title, Fierce, suggesting that “Fierceness is not enough,” I was thinking that when the warrior is all that we display, without the balancing of the heart, we oftentimes can get ourselves off center. The Warrior generally has its energy base in the masculine. The vulnerable is more closely aligned with the feminine.  We need both; the feminine and the masculine aspects of each and everyone of us to make our way through our current challenges; be they social or political.

In this way we are best able to find that magical pin hole in the universe that opens the way to wonders, not so easily seen on this earth plane we inhabit. 

Today, therefore, I am also lightening my load by not being all about the fierceness of my inner warrior taking the lead in this complaint process, at least not today. But cutting myself some slack, by putting my serenity first, seeking the balance of both the male and the female in me, in what I hope will come out right for my next step.

Tomorrow I might shift to warrior mode. Then, again, I might not. To guide me, I think I am best off keeping my eye on that pin hole that opens my way to wonder, with a good dose of earth bound common sense for balance.

We'll see what happens. One thing, for sure, I need to avoid heavy lifting, at least for now.

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Anastasia Files Professional Ethics Complaint For Sexual Harassment And Power Abuse

The “item to not be named just yet” is now named. This is it –

Anastasia Files Professional Ethics Complaint 
For Sexual Harassment And Power Abuse

Please send lots of Love and Light. 

Getting to this place has been"heavy lifting;" way too much to manage easily, along with emergency eye surgery.

Details forthcoming!

But, first things first, I am needing some private time to sort myself out on this. 

I don't want what lies ahead to become more heavy lifting.

How to find balance in a world full of chaos, is one of the big questions?

More to come

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

How My Lifting Got So Heavy

Heavy lifting can be an actual physical stretch, or it can be a metaphor. I’m presently experiencing both.

On the metaphorical level there's more to my pressures of heavy lifting than I'm ready to say just now. I will refer to these as the “item to not be named just yet.” 

There is something HUGE brewing in my life, not unlike the Harvey Weinstein/Hollywood/Matt Lauer sexual harassment stuff.  But, first, I need to sort more of it out before I speak publicly of it; in private with my devoted supporters, like Sue.

But getting support is only one part of what I need to help me through the disorientation I am experiencing. I also need continued clarity of thought and increasing amounts of resilience in order to be able to sustain myself through whatever lies ahead; the ups and the downs. Perhaps most of all, I need to maintain my connection with the Source that I have that sometimes waivers. This I rely on most to guide me to my highest way of being.
Sue hauling wood at
our local sawmill that supplies us.

This is “heavy lifting!

Especially while I’m also still healing, as I am now, from emergency eye surgery.

On the physical  level, though, picture it this way –

On the Friday before New Year’s Eve I ended up having an emergency cornea transplant; the details of which I will hold back for now. By the time I had returned home from Johns Hopkins Wilmer Eye Institute the following evening, snow had managed to cover the ground, making the drive home with my honorary daughter, Terry who had been with me throughout the ordeal, a bit challenging. Also the temperature had turned bitter cold. 

It was to remain that way, off and on, for, now, going on a month. 

Oh my, things were getting difficult!

Heavy lifting, up ahead!

It had been decided by my loved ones and myself that going home rather than elsewhere would be most comfortable and therefore healing for me. However, living in the mountains, as I do, and heating on wood, was to create quite a challenge, especially the wood heating part!

No bending and no lifting of objects over 15 pounds, I was told!

Not that I was much wanting to do these things anyway. 

Still the wood pile was going to be a fact of life for me – and a difficult one at that. 

In fact, my Spirit Sister Sue and I are quite diligent, from around August through March,  we do a substantial amount of hefting mountainous loads of wood to prepare for the cold winter months at both of our houses.
Anastasia on the woodpile

So, how was I to manage now without my usual physical strength -- on my own?

Imagine this, as to how I made it through that challenge -- 

Terry, dear daughter, actually came into my house, picked up my bathroom scale and started weighing slabs of wood to find the ones fifteen pounds and lighter. These she neatly stacked for me; some inside, some out, so that much of it could be reached waist high and above. 

Terry made it relatively easy for me that way. A few days later, Sue came and restocked the pile. 

In spite of this help, that’s when I became aware of heavy lifting!

With yesterday’s snow and cold weather, again, I am very much conscious of the heavy lifting and the no bending that healing from my eye surgery is demanding. Although I am now lifting up to twenty-five pounds of wood, it is the emotional lifting of the “item to not be named just yet” that is making me much more exhausted and disoriented these days.

For this the support of my friends to help me through is the hand up I need most right now. 

From this I gain the added strength I need for my “heavy lifting!”

With much gratitude for those who are helping me carry some of the weight!

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Heavy Lifting

“OMG!,”said I, as my morning contemplation reminded me that the middle of January was approaching and I had barely contributed anything reasonable to my two main blog sites; New Horizons Small “Zones of Peace” Project and this one, Anastasia The Storyteller.

Now, how did that happen? 

I was writing like a screeching banchee, almost up until Christmas. Then shortly after, my writing efforts went dark.

Where had I gone, I asked myself, wandering around lost in reverie, once again up against that disheartening feeling of –

“Who am I in this place called life?”

The Harvey Weinstein/Hollywood/Matt Lauer scandals and the expanding #Metoo movement had raised a sense of renewed hope in me for possibilities, formerly unimagined, for a new way of being in the world, unfettered by the power-0ver dominance from male oppressors I had encountered, on occasion. Being controlled by these dark male influences had not been enough to rob me of completely, but enough still to have exacted heavy tolls in my life.

With the “Weinstein Effect” and its fallout propelling new kinds of actions from me, I had risked taking steps upward and onward to a level I had not previously envisioned; a place that only the momentum of recent, past months based on a collective force, especially from female quarters, could have produced.

But now a shutting down and feeling disoriented rolled in like a dense fog, prompting one more of those existential musings I come up against from time to time.  

Where was I?  Who else was here with me? And what was I to do next? 

What were WE to do next?

Experiencing myself lost in the dense forest of my existence, first I reached out for the pinhole in the universe that is my window to greater understanding.  The effort did not resolve my quandary. Next, I did what any woman who is blessed with a sister soul mate does, called up that sister of mine.

My goodness I am blessed to have her!

When I was a little girl and learning to wish upon a star, I wished for only two things; a piano or a baby sister. For a too long time I got neither. Well, actually I did have a baby sister but she died before I even laid eyes on her. And the piano never came at all.

Then, about twelve years ago  I met Sue deVeer . She became my long-lost, wished-for sister. 

No matter that she is of Dutch heritage, blond haired and Quaker to my Eastern European background, dark hair and Jewish! It’s the soul level traveling she and I share, along with New Horizons as our practical, down-to-earth work that has now bonded us together for the run of the show we call “this life.”

Talking to Sister Sue, receiving wise input from her, I soon realized that while I had been traveling one road on my soul’s journey, added to some earth walk pressures these past weeks, she had gone off on a bit of a different direction; just as I was moving into some critical spaces of my own. The Christmas and New Year’s holidays plus a new crisis with my eye and the extreme cold we soon faced in the early days of the new year exacerbated our distance.

Not only were immense changes going on in my life since last I had written regularly on my blog site, but I had, in some ways, separated on the soul level from my Spirit Sister Sue, which had somehow estranged me a bit from ME, along with disconnecting me from my writing. 

OMG! Strange how all these parts work together!

Thus I had been doing the heavy-lifting in my life --- all on my own, while she had been having her adventures apart from me.

As of today, however, we are back in sync again. Reaching out to Sue yesterday and this morning, too, did net me some added and much welcomed clarity about where I’ve been and why so few blogs; heavy lifting – alone -- is the answer! It just got too burdensome all alone; heavy lifting, too weighty over an extended time!

A lesson to be derived here, of course, is one I keep learning and relearning; there is a point where solo and alone with one’s Higher Power, though a powerful way to move through life, especially for an introvert such as I, is not always enough over the long haul.

We need other people to round out our edges and in other ways, too, such as the benefits of different viewpoints one cannot see on one’s own, if the broadest perspectives and options are desired.

On my own, I’ve been hauling quite a load on my shoulders of late. Not sharing the day to day intricacies of the effort has been an essential ingredient missing, I think. Enough so that I have been finding it easier to keep quiet, removed even from my blog writing; a state of being for me that almost always signals some kind of disconnect, not only from friends and family and  blog readers but, usually, also from myself, to some degree.

All this heavy lifting, which I think I can see, retrospectively, goes back, emotionally, to, at least,  just before Christmas – and – even further back to those momentous few days between the reporting of the sexual misconduct allegations of Harvey Weinstein by the New York Times on October 5, 2017 and the Ronan Farrow article in the New Yorker on October 10, 2017. There were many times Spirit Sister Sue was assisting me with the lifting, physically, while the emotional and spiritual had gotten lost between us.

So to take a word from Katie Couric who has, now, just begun to express her reactions to the Matt Lauer scandals, I had become “disoriented,” feeling, at times these days, that I had lost my way. My sense of direction, which had already been challenged, significantly, all of thie past year by the upheaval brought about by Trump’s election and his subsequent manner of handling our national affairs, was totally off course. 

Now, on the heels of the “Weinstein Effect” and its repercussions, I am sometimes confused; unable to find my way out of disorientation. Realizing this, now -- today, clarity, hopefully, can begin its return.

However, for the past weeks or so,  when something like Simone Biles revealing that she too had been victimized by that serial pedophile doctor of gymnasts, Nassar, my life felt as if had taken another hit from which I have not easily been bouncing back these days.

But staying still and quiet hasn't worked either as a hunger was growing in me that I, today, recognize as a need to connect with other women such as I have not experienced, perhaps, in decades.

I have been disoriented and lost at times. Other times I continued to feel liberated, seeing bright open skies above. Both have come and gone.

Sometimes, these days, I feel hamstrung by circumstances I am unable to manage to my liking, my frustration level, overwhelming. Other days I am excited by unimaginable possibilities that make me feel as if I could fly. That is before I take my next dip.

Above and beyond these ups and down, one element stands out for me; it is not my destiny to take flight all on my own, nor to sink into the potholes on the downside solo, completely, either.

I must travel, at least, part of my journey with others – BEAUTIFUL WOMEN!

That is why New Horizons is going to keep backing me up to revitalize our former, VERY SUCCESSFUL SUPPORT GROUP APPROACH, as far and as wide as we can in the coming weeks and months – and years, hopefully in tandem with many other BEAUTIFUL WOMEN!



The evidence I am moving forward is here – my first blog post for 2018!

Too long coming, too little for my liking!

But, at last, I have found my voice, once again!

Thursday, December 28, 2017

In The Spirit Of The Holidays --

Please check out my article --

“Forgiveness: The Gift We Give Ourselves”
(Link from cover to "The Importance of Forgiveness" or go to page 18)

By Anastasia Rosen-Jones as published in …

Frederick’s Child Magazine
December/January 2018
(Link from cover to "The Importance of Forgiveness" or go to page 18)

Courtesy of Frederick’s Child Magazine 

Also posted here --

As The Year Ends, Considering “Forgiveness: The Gift We Give Ourselves”

Saturday, December 23, 2017

#MeToo House Cleaning

Of course I cannot know what is going on in your office or workplace or home. Any more than you can know what is going on in mine. But I can tell you this -- while I am continuing, as usual, getting ready for the holidays and the start of the new year, there must be an added alert, along with the ordinary.

So the other day, while I was digging in to some unexpected corners, here and there, intent on clearing away the clutter of my life, preparing myself for a cleaner 2018, a set of files I found in a long, stored-way drawer, jumped out at me, in a most startling way.

Lo and behold, I had unearthed, most unexpectedly, a HUGE cache of clinical training notes and correspondence having to do with some serious power-abuse of me by a former trainer and supervisor, with an added touch of sexual harassment. 

I had been bypassing the whole of it, in my conscious mind for decades!

You could almost call it a workplace, sexual harassment  situation, although it wasn’t exactly that. Instead it was more of an academic situation whereby one of my clinical training supervisors had not only oppressed and frightened me, with his power-over me position repeatedly, though I had called him on it and asked him to stop, but had also taken serious, career defeating actions against me for my rebuffs of him.


What had I here?

Startled by my discovery, one of my first thoughts was that what I had found could have taken me down, but it did not! 

Thanks to the blatant, once spotlighted, outrageous evil of Harvey Weinstein and the now expanding women's power movement, I thought, almost immediately, that I had unearthed a buried treasure trove; something that, given the current climate, would be likely to hold seeds of another layer; these almost unimaginably -- of transformation and liberation for me!


After a day of cogitation on my findings, I reached out to share my discovery with a dear colleague of mine, known for forty plus years. With this behind me for support, I contacted my professional training and accreditation association. 

And, lo and behold, before too many more hours had passed, I had both written and called the highest officials I could find from that particular organization and had begun the process of making an Ethics/Professional Practices complaint.

Can you believe it? 

Thank you Harvey Weinstein and women united!

So today I am immersed in preparing full documentation for that professional association which will remain anonymous, for the moment, until further notice. 

There is so much to copy, letter after letter of correspondence from a twelve year teacher-student relationship that went south, costing me much professionally; more than I can put a price tag on now.

Going through this stash, I am sometimes in so much pain!

Bottled up grief from things I have been containing, holding it mostly all to myself – for decades. Just as I had done about my child abuse and spousal abuse from my daughter’s father. 

I am masterful at containment. Now I hope I am being masterful at RECLAIMING ME!

Still, I am, off and on, in so much pain!

Yet so grateful to be alive at this time of expanding female liberation and equality!

Just  look how much freer we are becoming, collectively, day by day, now. 

And, for me, personally and professionally, I am so appreciative that out of the pain Anastasia, ME, is getting to rise again in the form of being able to serve my community, in a specialized way that is close to my heart, as I had done in the past, with more knowledge and expertise in how both men and women can move beyond gender tyranny than almost anyone, other than my devoted followers, collected in my close to forty-five years of professionally dealing with male-female sexuality issues, can imagine!

Anastasia, meaning of name --- “She who rises again!”

See New Horizons’ recent press release, "Beyond Gender Tyranny," on the professional angle.

Whoopee, transformation and liberation lie just ahead!

Thank G-d! 

Long time coming!

Thursday, December 21, 2017

On Being Invisible And Invisible No More

When your survival is being threatened daily by your abuser you learn to keep secrets. You learn to not make any fuss though your life is in jeopardy. The Harvey Weinstein scandals and the #Metoo outpouring is releasing that kind of long-held survival threat and accompanying fear.
The Cost Of  The Quiet

Stories and stories, untold, are pouring out; mine, no less than yours.

There has been such an enormous cost to the quiet. And, yet on my end, as no doubt for many others, the liberation is here. But freedom does not come easily.

In the past month I have kept relatively quiet. I had little to say, at least publicly.

So much was incubating inside of me, as I heard and watched account after account of #MeToo stories come alive in the daily media and on the internet, I could not speak, except to those closest to me. I had almost no words; only memories, emotions and insights, born of dots, long overlooked, connecting.

Today, however, the lid is off, the bottle uncorked for the genie in me to fly free though I am not yet adept at flight.

I think, as I often do, I may write my way through the holidays. I believe I am beginning now.

Perhaps it is the Winter Solstice that is bringing this out of me now. The Winter Solstice has special significance for me, as my only son was born on the Winter Solstice; a child of an Jewish-Christian interfaith mixed marriage he was, also, born on the first night of Chanukah and came home from the hospital on Christmas Eve with a bright moon shining although not quite full.

He is my star child though by him, too, I am being punished for whistle blowing the family abuse secrets; sexual and otherwise.

This year, that punishing seems to be more vivid to my conscious mind, yet held in greater peace than, possibly, ever before.

Much, much, much more to come from Anastasia The Storyteller