Sunshine Skyways

The image of Christmas as a time when the whole family gathers together and everyone feels love for one and for all is not a reality for me and, no doubt, for many. It never was about love and loving to be with each other, although I wished it would have been. Instead, Christmas when I was a kid was more like my family pretending to be that way, although there always loomed the possibility that my Borderline mother would judge and then erupt into a rage ... although the eruptions were in the privacy of our home. As much as she didn't recognize boundaries, she erupted only in our home, when no guests were there. Perhaps, my mother's fears and other suffering were heightened during Christmas and during the shortest days of the year. Decades later, I still have feelings of anxiety and depression/sadness ... patterns of thought and feeling produced a long time ago, but still present. Maybe I'm in the process of grieving what was.

Labels: Borderline Xmas Memories

During the process of exploring my within, I am challenged by my fractured self -- one of suffering, which is reflected in my latest art piece seen here. Perhaps, one has to metaphorically come face-to-face with one's suffering and accept it before continuing down the path of being whole.

Here is a painting which is an abstraction of my oldest brother holding his first grandchild. In the photo he has a despondent stare. He seems disconnected to his granddaughter and his wife, who took the photo. He is emotionally disconnected from his family. According to my parents, he was "the rock" and "on the rock, they built the family," which meant being tethered to a Borderline mother who kept him by her side and without friends. Although our mother has been dead for years, he remains in her service, chained to patterns of thought and trauma forged early in his life as the chosen one.

The War Is Over: A Compassion Meditation by Denise J., aka Sunshine Skyways.


Scene I: A large outdoor stadium before sunset.

A stage is set up at one end of the stadium field. Facing the stage, one can see the setting sun to the right. A very large blackened monitor appears suspended in the air at the back of the stage. Speakers and many smaller monitors are situated throughout the stadium. Seated in the stadium and on the field are generations of warriors. Many have obvious physical injuries. Many are in wheelchairs, are missing a limb or two, have very visible scars, have been severely burnt, and all appear emotionally and physically tired. Nonetheless, all are wearing body armor and carry weapons.

The stage is lit in subtle colors of the rainbow and all of the audience look up toward the stage. The lights fade to black. The stage is empty and silent for several seconds, then a gentle pulse of gold light lightens the stage and a Native American mourning song can be faintly heard. The song gets louder then an image slowly comes into view on the monitors. The mourning song ends once the first image is in focus. It is of a warrior who was killed in the war, showing how and when he was killed. His screams of pain and cries for help can be heard as he dies. Then images and sounds of generations of dying warriors are played for at least 10 minutes. Their screams of pain and cries for help as they die reverberate throughout the stadium, then the monitors fade to black as the screams and cries go silent. After a few seconds, another image comes into focus; it is of a non-combatant fatally injured in the war. She screams in pain and cries for help as she dies. Her image fades, then images and sounds of generations of non-combatants killed in the war appear in rapid fashion. Their screams of pain and cries for help as they die reverberate throughout the stadium for at least 10 minutes, then the images and sounds fade away. There is only silence and blackness for several seconds. Then an image slowly appears and cries can be faintly heard. Once in focus, it is of two warriors witnessing the terrible death of a warrior standing in front of them. The screams of the warrior killed in front of them and their loudly beating hearts can be heard as they dive onto the ground side by side, both covered in blood and pieces of body parts. The warrior on the left looks at the warrior to her right and sees that one of his arms has been blown off. She looks at her outstretched arms and sees a bone sticking out of her right arm. The camera shifts to their faces showing both disbelief and tremendous fear, which then morphs into their older faces showing the same fear and disbelief, just more subtle, but noticably engrained in the lines and wrinkles of their faces. Their faces and rapidly beating hearts fade away. The stadium is silent and black for seconds. Then images and sounds of surviving warriors and non-combatants wounded and emotionally traumatized by the war and the experiences that traumatized them are shown and heard in rapid fashion for at least 10 minutes. Then the sights and sounds fade away and it is silent and black in the stadium for several seconds. The only light is from the fading sun. Then, the photos of those killed, wounded and traumatized by the war appear simultanously, each like a pixel. Collectively, the pixels create the image of a lone young girl standing in a small patch of lawn. She has blood on her face and on her clothes. She is holding a teddy bear with a tattered green ribbon around its neck. The bear is missing an ear, eye and leg, and dried blood covers its belly and remaining leg. The young girl is looking around her. She is calling for someone, anyone, but no one responds. She cries; she screams. She is alone. The focus expands and now one can see there are dead bodies around her. Then the image expands again and one can see tens of bodies, then hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of bodies, then millions of bodies. The images of millions of dead bodies disappear and again one can see and hear only the lone crying girl and her traumatized facial expression and body langauge. She grows quiet, then slumps to the ground as blood comes from her mouth. She dies with her teddy bear by her side. Her image slowly fades away and as it does, her cries are joined with the cries of tens, hundreds, thousands then tens of thousands of others that can be heard for at least 10 minutes. The monitors then go black and the stadium goes silent for several minutes. After, a bright bolt of lightning appears on the monitors and its loud crash is heard, rumbling throughout the stadium. The monitors go to a deep blue and a golden light appears at the left side of the stage.

A person wearing a long red hooded ceremonial robe slowly and gracefully walks out onto the stage. S/he in turn is followed by another person wearing an orange ceremonial robe, followed by one wearing a yellow ceremonial robe, and so on until 7 people have slowly walked out on to the stage, one after the other, each wearing a different colored ceremonial robe that is a color of the rainbow. Once all 7 people are on stage, they slowly and gracefully form a circle. Those with hands and arms hold hands, those who can’t, do not. Gentle pulses of the 7 colors of the rainbow appears around and in the circle. The 7 people slowly move as a circle, first doing a complete turn from left to right then right to left, then they stop and the lights around them fade to a deep blue and a golden light appears at the right side of the stage.

A general appears in the golden light and slowly walks out on to the stage and into the circle between two individuals lacking arms. He is wearing a battered helmet, and dented body armor is strapped tightly to his upper body, forcing his shoulders up. His clothes and boots are dusty and stained with blood. He walks with a very visible limp and his right arm is bent. The light follows him as he walks. He stops and stands in the middle of the circle of 7 people. The 7 bow to the general, then slowly break the circle and walk and form a semi-circle behind him. The general turns to each of the 7 robed people and bows to each one of them. He then turns back to face the audience and moves to the front of the stage. As he does, he is lit in an orange-red light. He looks old and very tired. He has a visible scar across the right side of his face. He coughs, slowly removes his helmet, then begins to speak.

General: Good evening. We have been a warrioring people for a long long time. Our great grandparents, our grandparents, our parents, our sisters and brothers, our aunts and uncles, our cousins, our children, our grandchildren, our friends, our neighbors, and all of us have fought in war. All of us have witnessed comrades, friends, relatives, and strangers die before our eyes. Everyone of us has been an eye witness to the pain and suffering of war.

Now images of dying warriors and non-combatants reappear on the screen. One can hear their dying screams and cries for help. Images of people torn into pieces and other horrible images of people fatally injured appear on the screens. Many are warriors, but equally many are not. Many are older teenagers and in their 20s, but equally many are young children and elderly non-combatants. Many are killed on a battlefield, but equally many are killed in their homes, schools, neighborhoods, sacred spaces, and places of work and play. After seeing image after image after image of those dying, the monitors fade to black and speakers fade to silence.

General: The images that you saw and voices you heard are those who were killed in our war. Now look at the monitors to see and hear the warriors, their families and others who physically survived but were devastated by our war.

Images and voices of homeless, maimed, self-drugged, suicidal and otherwise mentally ill veterans are played. Images and voices of veterans experiencing flashbacks are seen one after the other. Images and voices of children, spouses, parents, siblings and friends crying at the funerals of killed warriors are played, then the images and voices of children, spouses, parents, siblings, and friends being neglected, abused and/or otherwise adversely affected by veterans are played. Both warriors and non-combatants speak of psychological losses and wounds that cannot be healed. Veterans speak of not being able to sleep or be comfortable in their own thoughts, and many speak of wishing they had died in battle because surviving is more painful. The faces of warriors traumatized by the war and non-combatants abused by traumatized veterans are shown in rapid fashion; they all have a look of being emotionally disconnected from the world. Then each face becomes a pixel and collectively each pixel forms the image of a young man about 20 years of age. He is curled up in a fetal position on a rug in a bedroom. The camera zooms to his face, and one can see both fear and sadness in his eyes. The camera then zooms to his right eye and in the eye are reflected images of the young man as a warrior shooting and killing a woman and two children. A slurred voice saying, “Fire! Fire!” is heard as he kills them. A hand reaches out to shake his in congratulations after he has done as commanded. He looks down at the bodies of the two children and sees in one child’s face a slight resemblance to his own. He looks at the dead woman and sees a slight resemblance to his mother. He looks at his rifle and at the people he killed. Then one sees him shaving in a mirror in the bedroom. He is not comfortable with who he sees in the mirror. The camera zooms out and again we see the young man lying in the fetal position on the rug. An original poem, an empty bottle of pills and an empty bottle of whiskey are by his side. One can hear a woman calling for him, then silence, followed by the images of the boy’s mother and father breaking down a door and finding their son unconscious on the floor of his bedroom. The mother dials 911, then the monitors fade to black. A siren, voices of EMTs trying to resusitate the young man and cries of his parents and his brother and sisters are heard, followed by silence.

General: Millions of people have been killed and traumatized by decades of war. We are a deeply wounded people, and we keep on adding to people’s pain and suffering by continuing to fight. All of us were born during the war, and were raised to accept war as a fact of life. We were taught that warriors are heroes, and we should all be ready to put on body armor, load our weapons, and march eagerly into battle. When I was a young man, I was eager to be a warrior because I wanted to be a hero. Heros seemed to be admired by everyone, and I wanted to be admired. After seeing and hearing the pain and suffering caused by decades of war, I have come to learn that a hero is not a person who killls or injures others. A hero saves lives and acts to reduce pain and suffering. A villain kills and acts to increase pain and suffering. So, what is a warrior? A warrior is trained and ordered to cause pain and suffering first and foremost. Doesn’t that mean a warrior is more a villain than a hero? I personally have killed and injured people that I did not know because I was a warrior and trained to believe: 1) they were the enemy, 2) enemies hate us and want to hurt us, and 3) we have to kill our enemies before they kill us. For that, I have been called a war hero, but there is no such thing. First and foremost, I was trained to be and became a villain. Over my career I have ordered hundreds of thousands of warriors to kill and injure people that they didn’t know. For generations we have killed and injured people that we labeled as the enemy.
Now listen carefully as I repeat myself. Heros save lives and reduce pain and suffering. Villains kill and increase pain and suffering. We have killed and injured millions of people, people we don’t know, generation after generation. War has made us villains. We have also hurt ourselves, generation after generation as shown in the videos you have seen. War has made us victims.
War is intellectually, physically and emotionally exhausting because we get stuck in living out our lives as villains and victims. There is and should be more to life than that, and our children, childen’s children and so on deserve more than being villains and victims. Thus, for our children, our children’s children, and so on, I declare it is time to put an end to our warrioring ways. It is time to take off our body armor and get rid of our weapons. It is time for us to rest, heal, and enjoy the great benefits that come from peace. We must and can work together to benefit others and ourselves. Therefore, on this day at this moment I am ordering all of you to stop fighting. There is no need, no reason for continuing the war or warrior ways.
It is the time for peace. If peace scares you, you are a victim of the war. War is hell, and any reasonable person does not prefer war or warrior ways. War is a terrible attack on the body and soul of everyone. To be scared of peace is to deeply scarred by war. Look at the monitors and see what has happened to us.

The monitor has two split images. On the right is a young boy, on the left a young girl. Both appear to be about 4 years old. The girl is jumping rope with friends in a playground. She and her friends are having a wonderful time. The boy is with his family and they are joyfully celebrating his birthday. The images of the young girl and boy fade then are replaced. On the left side of the screen appears the girl, who looks like she is about 12 years of age. She is with her mother and two brothers visiting her wounded father in a military hospital. The girl looks frightened as she looks at the man who is supposed to be her father. The father has a severe brain injury and appears incapable of parenting anyone. On the right side of the screen is the boy, who looks to be about 10 years of age. He is crying. His mother was killed in combat and he is with his father and siblings at his mother’s funeral. His father is crying and leaning over his mother’s casket as it is lowered into the ground. The boy throws a flower into the hole. The images then fade away and are replaced by new ones. On the left is the girl who is now a woman of 32. She looks tired and depressed. She and her mother are dressing her father, then they are getting him in her parents’ car. Her mother yells at her for being late and making her father late for his dialysis appointment. After her mother and father have left fo the appointment, the woman goes back into the house, into the kitchen, removes two pills from her pocket, grabs a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet, and swallows the pills with the whiskey. On the right of the screen is the boy who is now a man of 47. It is the general, and he is watching his son die of war injuries. He can not do anything to stop his son from dying. His son asks his father to tell his mother that he loves her and then tells his father that he loves him. The son then dies in his father’s arms. Both images then fade to black.

General: As you can see, I watched my son die. I ordered his unit into battle and with that order, I led my son to his death. He was not the only one to die that day. Many others died and were permanently injured. They were mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, wives, husbands, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, best friends, and comrades.

Images of warriors when they were young children appear. The young children are playing games and enjoying life. Each child’s face shows a passion and enthusiasm for the human experience. Then the faces morph and age. The once passionate and enthusiastic faces and playful sounds of children are replaced by images and sounds of warriors killing and being killed, injuring and being injured. Those images and sounds fade and are replaced by images of generations of veterans who look and sound tired, beaten, traumatized. The images and sounds disappear.

General: Our grandparents, parents, siblings, children, grandchildren, spouses, relatives, friends, and neighbors have all been scarred by decades of war. And the wounds get deeper and more painful with each year that we continue our warrioring ways. Now look into the monitors and see what war has done to you.

Images of every person in the audience appear on the screens. First, each person is a young child of 3 with an exhuberance for life and joy to be with others. Second, each is a child of 10 years of age and being taught to believe that certain people are the enemy. Those images are replaced by each person attending at least one funeral for someone killed in the war and seeing many others permanently injured by the war. In turn, those images are replaced by videos of each audience member being trained to be a warrior, followed by the horrors that s/he actually experienced in the war, then followed by the images of each person as a veteran haunted by painful memories and physical injuries of being a warrior. Those images fade to black.

General: You know the pain and suffering of war; it is a hurt that never goes away. Why do we do this to ourselves? War is crazy. I am done with fighting and being a warrrior. I will no longer kill or injure others. I will not continue the cycle of pain and suffering. I will not carry or use a weapon, and I will not wear body armor.

A fire pit appears behind the general, then a Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker, wearing a beautiful, sparkling gold, pink and white robe, walks out on to the stage and stands by the fire pit. The General turns to face the fire pit, then walks towards it, finally stopping within a foot of it. He then struggles to remove his body armor, and gestures for someone to help him. The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker helps him remove his body armor. It comes off and looks as if it had been a dead layer of skin on his shoulders, upper back and chest. He slowly removes the rest of his uniform and throws it, his body armor and gun into the fire pit. Three people wearing gold and pink robes walk out on to the stage. Soulful flute music can be heard as they walk. Each is carrying a torch. The three walk to the pit, and set the uniform, body armor and gun on fire. The uniform, body armor and gun merge into a gold and pink flame, and there is no smoke. In a flash of sparkling gold, pink and white light the flame, uniform, armor and gun disappear. The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker turns and faces the audience. She is holding a gold and pink robe. She hands the robe to the general and gestures for him to put in on, which he does.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker (to General): As the sun sets and the moon rises, as the tide rises and falls, as birth leads to death, it is time for you to stop warring and be at peace. You have been at war too long, and you are terribly wounded. You are tired, and you need to rest. The robe that you wear is a healing robe and the symbol of the Peacemaker. With it you are no longer a warrior. Now say, “ I am no longer a warrior.”

General: I am no longer a warrior.

The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and General hug each other and as they do, similar fire pits appear throughout the stadium. The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and General walk to the front of the stage and face the audience.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and General (in unison): Now, it is your turn to rest and be healed. Remove your uniforms, body armor and weapons, and throw them into a fire pit. If you need help, someone will help you.

Everyone in the audience either alone or with help removes their uniforms, body armor and weapons and throws them into a fire pit. After all uniforms, body armor and weapons are in the fire pits, persons wearing gold and pink robes come with torches and light the pits on fire. A gold and pink flame appears in each. The piles of uniforms, body armor and guns merge into the gold and pink flames, and there is no smoke. In a flash of sparkling gold, pink and white light, all of the flames, uniforms, body armor and guns disappear. More robed persons come out among the audience; they are carrying gold and pink ceremonial robes. They give each person in the audience a robe and all put on a robe.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and General (in unison): As the sun sets and the moon rises, as the tide rises and falls, as birth leads to death, it is time for you to stop warring and be at peace. You have been at war too long, and you are terribly wounded. You are tired, and you need to rest. The robe that you wear is a healing robe and the symbol of the Peacemaker. With it you are no longer a warrior. Now say, “ I am no longer a warrior.”

Audience Members (in unison): I am no longer a warrior.


Two children, each wearing a gold and pink robe walk out onto the stage. One is carrying food and the other a goblet of healing juice. They walk up to the General and Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker (to General): The food and juice before you represent the healing spirit of the Peacemakers. As food and drink are necessary for life, the healing spirit is necessary for a compassionate, loving life.

The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker takes some of the food and gives it to the General. She gestures for him to eat it,which he does. She then takes the goblet, hands it to the General and gestures for him to drink from it, which he does. He hands the goblet back to the Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker, who in turn gives it back to one of the two children.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker (to the General): You are now a Peacemaker. Peacemakers do great things. They love others, are compassionate, and act to reduce the pain and suffering of others. In so doing, they honor themselves and others as spiritual beings. Now say after me, “I am a Peacemaker.”

General: I am a Peacemaker.

The Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker walks to the Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and they give each other a warm and loving hug. As they continue to hug, children, all wearing gold and pink robes, walk out into the audience. Half carry food, the others goblets of healing juice. Once dispersed through the audience, the children turn and look up at the stage. The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker stop hugging and turn to face the audience.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker (in unison) : The food and juice before you represent the healing spirit of the Peacemakers. As food and drink are necessary for life, the healing spirit is necessary for a compassionate, loving life. This food and juice is the healing spirit for you.

The children gesture everyone in the audience to eat and drink, and they do. After everyone has had food and juice, gold, pink and white lights gently pulsate and the sound of “Om” reverberates softly throughout the stadium.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and the Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker (in unison): You are now Peacemakers. Peacemakers do great things. They love others, are compassionate, and act to reduce the pain and suffering of others. In so doing, they honor themselves and others as spiritual beings. Now say after us, “I am a Peacemaker.”

Audience (in unison): I am a Peacemaker.

The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker bow to the audience and then to each other, and hug each other. Similarly, everyone in the audience bows to the Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker, then to each other, and give each other hugs. As they all hug, the sound of “Om” is replaced by the sound of a gentle rain. Many to most of the audience members begin to cry and cry for several minutes, stop, then cry again and again. The Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker also begins to weap. He cries for a long time. After he stops, he looks out over the audience.

Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker (in unison): We are now Peacemakers, and we do great things. We love others, are compassionate and act to reduce the pain and suffering of others. We also cry when we personally experience pain and suffering and witness it in others. In so doing, Peacemakers honor themselves and others as spiritual beings.

Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker: No doubt, it will feel strange for me and many of you to be a person of peace. I was a warrior for a long time, and being a Peacemaker will be like being someone else, not me. We will be like strangers to ourselves, but by becoming Peacemakers, what a wonderful gift we are giving ourselves, our families, our children, their children and their children’s children and so on. We will reap benefits that those at war can never have, but always try to gain. Now, go back to your families and communities and live in and spread peace. It is the greatest gift of all. It is the act of heroes.

The Woman-Shaman-Peacemaker and Ex-General-Now-Peacemaker bow to the audience, then to each other, and walk off the stage, followed by the 7 people wearing the robes the 7 colors of the rainbow. As they do, videos of Peacemakers helping others are seen on the monitors. The videos end with the words, “Live in and Spread Peace.” The monitors fade to black, and the audience exits the stadium to the peaceful melody of the Peacemakers.

Patterns of thought that divide and identify some as bad needing to be managed by the experts or superiors (aka the regulators). With knowledge constructed by them and for them, the experts rationalize their attempts to control those whom they designate as needing their guidance. Whether in the name of science or God or other ultimate source, their knowledge is held up as unquestionable.

My mother was stuck in a borderline world of patterns of thought that identified/labeled me as deviant; and as such, in her mind, I always needed regulation, which meant being watched. Walls blocking me from her view were minimalized, so that my "bedroom" was a very visible section of hallway. The only room in the house where there were four walls where I could block her out was the bathroom. Yet, whether in or out of the bathroom, I did my best to be invisible, out of her gaze.

When threatened by her own patterns of thought, she erupted, threatening my existence to demonstate her ability to snuff out or continue my life. Perhaps, that was the ultimate in inequality ... it being her decision to end my life and with it all self-expression or not. She threatened me with death many times from the time I was 2 or 3 years of age.

My mother seemed free to express herself with her range from ignoring me (which for me felt like acceptance) to focusing on me in a murderous rage. My expression and self-expression were supposed to conform to her prescribed role of what I should be. When she expressed her hatred and anger at their extremes, I was most silenced, reduced to an object like a statue made of stone. If I expressed sadness or hurt, she turned up the rage to make me feel worse. So, I had to appear emotionless, like a stone, while her body went stiff and mechanical, her voice changed, and her eyes focused menacingly into my eyes.

Her anger and hate silenced and traumatized me. My mother certainly didn't want to hear my point of view; hers was the only one that mattered. My mother was a self-proclaimed moral expert/authority, and as such, she judged me as evil and needing her correction. At the same time, she was afraid that something would happen to me, like being raped by a drunk, so she would try to regulate who I was friends with and activities I did with those friends. For example, she would not let me go camping with my best friend's family because she claimed there would be drinking there. Her vision of evil awaiting to pounce on me while already being in me must have been tormenting for her. Perhaps, her torment from being sexually abused by a drunken older brother and neglectful parents and she projected onto me her feeling that she was both evil and the victim of evil. My mother likely had no sense of a core and peace of mind that comes from having a sense of a core. Perhaps, her torment was having to construct what little core she had from the outside from her imaginations of what others believed and wanted her to be. She had no peace of mind, just patterns of thought stuck in a vortex of emotions of fear, anger and hatred, with few connections to love and compassion for others and herself.

Perhaps, I am like a swirl in a river that is composed of millions of swirls. Yet, my ego mind dissolves the river and instead creates/imagines each swirl to be an independent body of water. The imagined independent body of water, in turn, is imagined to be interacting with other and different bodies of water. Together, the collection of imagined separate bodies and interactions make up my reality, which my ego mind translates into the reality of concrete facts, not imaginations. At the same time, my ego mind imagines my self to be better than all others, giving my imagined independent existence more importance, although I am just a swirl among millions of swirls and all are the same, all are of and in unity with the river.

I've been reading a number of Buddhist books. What draws me to Buddhism and Taoism is that they are not judgmental. What also draws me to Buddhism is its practical teachings that have helped me become aware of continuous psychodramas that I create and cast myself in. Those psychodramas can be one's reality and only reality. By developing a greater awareness (or mindfulness), I am not getting sucked into authoring and casting myself in those psychodramas. Also, I believe that greater awareness (or mindfulness) is a path to greater love and compassion. Above is a painting that I recently finished that reflects these thoughts.

A very dear friend of mine grew up with a mother with borderline personality disorder. After many conversations with him, reading what he described about his childhood, and reading various books on the illness, I was moved to do the above painting, which I call the Borderline Vortex. The words on the right express what he experienced growing up with a borderline mother.