My first love, and first wife, died on the day of my birthday, November 20, 2022.
We knew each other since 1972. Married in 1979 after living together for four often times troubling years. Divorced in 1985 after repeated so-called “nervous breakdowns”. In the end she was diagnosed with dissociative personality disorder (multiple personalities) an illness that often visits severely traumatized people, though all people carry whispers of the disease.
She lived a tragic, heartbreaking, life.
Let me tell a short story about Donelle.
In 1987, I visited Donelle at her apartment near Camas Washington. We had been divorced since 1984, but I still kept in touch with her on occasion, because of my concern for her. I had just gotten sober, and I wanted to make amends to her, as part of the program of working the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (total sobriety was to last for me for over 20 years, until I developed a pain killer addiction in 2007). This time, she was in the middle of a complete MPD (multiple personality disorder) type of nervous breakdown.
Donelle had candles lit throughout her apartment, and the setting was quite eerie. I sat down with her to talk, and I noted that she looked so young and innocent, and I was struck by the change in her appearance and countenance. As she spoke to me, I felt like I was witnessing a 6 or 7 year old girl, with the new persona that was now speaking through her. For some reason, I was inspired to give her feedback about her “six year old self” that I was witnessing. I told her that she was not responsible for the sexual abuse that she experienced from Bud (and perhaps one or two unnamed others during Marlene’s drunken soirees). I tried to be as forgiving and compassionate as my heart would allow to the naive, innocent child making its presentation before me.
We both cried together, and my heart was broken, and I hurt like I had never before hurt as a human being. I can only imagine her own terror and fear around her own abuse at the hands of her elders. Later in this visit, another “personality” appeared.
A calm composed mature person then “incarnated” into Donelle. I asked who I was talking with. She told me that she was “God”, and proceeded to give me the wisest, most loving feedback that I had ever received as a human being up to that point in my life.
“I have many faces, butyou have recognized mine, and you have reached the point of being able to accept beauty in your life. You have made peace with your past, but peace does not last forever. You have much work to do, but your work will have love guiding it, and protecting you.”
As I was open to “God” at that point in my life, it was a miracle that “God” could use the vehicle of a damaged human being to talk with me. That is how “God” works sometimes.
Looking at my history, I remained open to the revelations from the Mystery
Who can say with certainty what reality truly is? Those who cling too tightly to what they think that they know, can unintentionally exclude a “whisper from God” that might be experienced and revealed in the newness of each moment, no matter what or who the source may be.
Donelle’s reality was a most challenging one. I am distressed by the abuse that men over the course of her life heaped upon her. She was the most loving, kind person that I had every known, and she got bulldozed by our toxic masculine dominated culture and community, and her diseased response to it.
Nature, or nurture?
Had Donelle been lovingly nurtured since birth through her adulthood, I would only hope that the disease would not have erupted. Traumatization of our most innocent cannot lead to happy outcomes.
She was a beautiful soul deserving the best life had to offer.
I grieve for Donelle, and for all traumatized souls.
I have written nine books trying to tell our story, the story of all traumatized souls, and our potential for healing.
Is anybody listening to me?
Is anybody listening to the so-called healing experts?
Does anybody really care?
I think, hope, and pray that we do.
The future of the world depends upon it.
My life was forever changed by my relationship with Donelle, while she presented me with a unique life, love, suffering, and growth experience.
If suffering is our ticket to heaven, God, the Creator, Universe, Grandfather Great Spirit, or whatever name we give to that which brought us here must have a wonderful place saved for you, sweet Spirit, Donelle.
You earned it!
Donelle’s senior yearbook photograph
In 1987, I met Marie Schmidt, a practitioner of Joel Goldsmith’s The Infinite Way, which is a movement involved with mysticism and spiritual healing.. She was a woman about 87 years old, who taught every Sunday at the old YWCA on 10th Avenue in downtown Portland. I had seen a simple advertisement for her tape group, while attending the International New Thought Alliance conference in Portland in August of 1987. The tape group was a combination meditation group, and a forum for listening to the taped teachings of Joel Goldsmith, a spiritual healer and mystic who first began his healing practice shortly after the Great Depression began.
She had been holding weekly meditations and tape recorded playbacks of Joel’s actual messages since 1962. Marie would sit in the front of the room, and lead a 15 minute meditation, followed by the playing of a cassette tape of one hour length. She had a collection of at least 300 tapes, of which I eventually copied virtually all of them, and committed them to memory as best that I could. Marie had over 1000 hours of his recorded messages, which she ended up giving to me, and which I converted to digital format.. Some of the tapes were the old style reel-to-reel, and I was not able to convert those tapes to the more modern digital format.
I was captured by this group, which had mostly older people who attended. I believe that I was the youngest person there, for the period from 1987-1991, while I remain involved with her group. Initially, I kept my distance from most of the people, not really being sure what the whole business was about. I eventually drew Joan Madsen and Marcus Jones into the group, who I knew from the International New Thought Alliance convention of 1987, as well as Alcoholics Anonymous, and the Living Enrichment Center.
Late in 1988, In Marie’s apartment, Me, Joan Madsen, Marie, Marcus Jones, and Jeff, from left to right.
One day in February of 1989, after I had just broken off an engagement to be married to Laurie H, and I was devastated. The sweet old woman, Marie, offered me a “healing session”. Well, I had my doubts, and nothing to lose, and I was a little curious about this “healing business”. I went up to her apartment, still devastated, and meditated with her for 15 minutes. At the end, Marie spoke the “message” that she heard from Spirit, in regards to me.
“More perfect than you are, you could never be”,
with
“All that is human, is illusion”.
Well, OK, but how can I possibly apply that spiritual salve?
As I thanked her for her time, I then noticed I was totally at peace, and I was “healed” of all of my emotional disturbances around the ending of my engagement to Laurie. It was as if the winds of Spirit had blown away everything from my mind, except peace and joy.
As I look at my life’s history, I have been healed by its Loving Mystery.
I later tried to have her heal my mentally sick ex-wife, Donelle, with no success. So there were limits to her ability, though she always stated that God heals, not herself . I can almost now hear Marie’s voice, telling me, in regards to all of us:
“More Perfect than you are, you could never be.”
How that manifests in all of our lives remains an unraveled mystery, to be experienced by us each day that we have the privilege to wake up. She would tell me that we are all blessed by each other’s continued walk through life. Love goes before us, to make all of “the crooked places straight”. We are Loved, and, in fact are Love Itself. The body goes where it must, but also, so does our Hearts. Go in Peace and Love, and always be willing to bring healing to any situation, for that is our mission, and who we are always to be.
In 1994, Marie was placed in the St. Andrews home near Mt. Tabor, when her nephew noted her deteriorating health, and he was concerned about her decline. Marie continued to practice healing with the other patients, even while under care of the attending professionals. My last visit to her, prior to her death, was characterized by her still restating to Sharon and me of our perfection in the eyes of God.
I am 69 years old, and I am
a retired person. I began writing in 2016.
Since 2016 readers have shown they are not interested in my writings, other than my wife, best friend, and one beautiful recovering woman, gracefuladdict. l
I still write anyway.
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