Last night I got home from work and my husband says to me, you would have been very proud of your daughter today. Now, this really isn’t all that hard a task to accomplish, my daughter makes it pretty easy for me to be proud of her everyday, but I am curious, so ask M, what’s up. As a reminder M is my 14 who is not fond of shooting or discussing self defense and she does not like me fighting with Arete at all. Her conditioning by me has been one of my biggest regrets and greatest concerns. So, M tells me her story… Mom, dad needed to take A to her friend’s birthday party up the street, so I stayed home with E & H. Doors locked, alarm set all is fine, but then there is a knock on the door. I took a look and at first I thought it was a delivery man, so no big deal(she knows not to open the door for any reason. Our younger children are not even allowed to open the door for me or my husband. The rules in our house is no one answers the door except for an adult unless you have asked first. None of our children including our 6 year has broke this rule)time passes and she said for some reason she decided to check and see if he was still there. Mom, I have been home before when someone knocked and no big deal, but something just didn’t feel right, so I went to take a look. He wasnt really doing anything wrong, but the way he was looking around at the windows made me uncomfortable. I looked at him and realized he wasn’t a delivery man. His uniform was more like a landscaper, but something about his clothes didn’t fit. I got E & H and put them in the same room. Mom, they didn’t even question me. When I gave them the command(we have practiced this) they went without a peep. Then I called dad. She said eventually, the guy went away and my husband came home, checked everything out. I told her great job, perfect, but I have a question. I told her I was just curious and there was no wrong answer, but before I could get the question out, she said, “Yes, mom, I went to the gun.” If you thought my smile was big when I shot the Garand… Even though she has fought me every step of the way, I have insisted on her shooting, practicing different scenarios and talking things through with me. When we do these things it goes like this, “Hey, M, let’s practice what would happen if someone comes to the door.” “Ugh, mom, I really don’t want to.” “Yeah, I know, but it’s important so just give me 5 minutes. I say it like I am asking, but I am not. She knows we are having this conversation. We run through the steps. When I think we are good, I tell her I love her, she rolls her eyes, hugs me, and says something like, you’re so weird. 100% of the time I walk away from those encounters wondering if I am making a difference. If I am getting through to her. I wonder if I should be more forceful and push her a little harder. Who knows. I don’t have all the answers. It certainty has been a struggle, but when she found herself in one of “those” situations, she did everything right. She trusted her gut, she stayed calm, she followed the plan, she was perfect. My husband was right(he usually is). I was and am mighty, mighty proud of her! ***We have lots of security layers built in to her being home “alone” as in she really isn’t. I am obviously not going to go into what I mean specifically on the Internet, but the point is, she thought she was and she did the right things.

The other day a woman left a comment on my blog post about how she had written a post about her childhood and the abuses she suffered on her blog.  I immediately headed over to her blog and we have exchanged a few emails.

 I am amazed at how similar we are in terms of how we have dealt with the abuse.  I thought I was the only one who didn’t talk, who didn’t cry, who was happy all the time.  Actually, I never thought that, I didn’t think anything because I didn’t know I was coping, I just was. While I have not gotten into the specific of my abuse, she goes into graphic detail about what happened to her and she is asking for support.  I think she is so very, very brave. Except for my husband I have never talked about my childhood.  I have shared a little with friends here and there, but nothing much beyond it was abusive.  Maybe an alcoholic joke here or there. You all know how long it took me to tell you the whole story about that day in March.  Through her and others,  I am learning that I am not so unique.  That children who are severely abused hide things about emotions and feelings.  They get good at putting on a happy face and stuffing the pain so deep it can’t be felt.  That is probably why I was able to hide the truth about my attack for so long.  If E hadn’t decided at dinner to tell the whole story I might still be living that lie(The lie of the attack not my childhood.  My childhood does not haunt me).  Thank God I am not.  Thank God I saw her face and the pain and said, nope, no more, it’s time to face what happened and deal.  It may have seemed like a long painful process, but it hasn’t been that long.  There is healing in sharing and in support.

Her story is not an easy one to read.  Much like Garand Girl, her story is a hard pill to swallow, but I ask that you go anyway and that you offer her support and compassion.

I  want to say thank you to everyone that has helped me these past few months.  You have no idea what it means to me.  I have a chance to say thank you all the time to my husband, John and Arete, but not often enough to all of you.  You are not just helping a woman, me, get stronger, you are helping me to be stronger and that makes me a better mother, a better friend, a better member of society.  I have learned more about myself and self defense for sure, but in doing so I have gained the courage to stand up and take responsibility for my community, my government and my place in it.  It would have been easy to brush me off, but you didn’t and you effected more than you know.  

Last night my phone dinged that ding that says, “new email” has arrived.  I checked and there was an email from a woman asking me about holsters.  I was at the pool, so I had time and answered it right then.  She sent one back and said she actually had sent that email months ago.  Strange.  So, if you sent me an email and I did not respond, it means I didn’t get it. I apologize if that is the case.

Wanted to clarify a few things about training with Arete based on an email I got this morning.  We don’t just go out that and hit each other.  He explains things to me first.  He will maybe set up a scenario like what if someone is going for your gun.  Currently he is a little annoyed with me because I was suppose to bring a blue gun to the last 2 sessions and I didn’t, but lets not go there.  He will set up how they might do that, explain what my options are, then we go over that 2 or 3 times in slow motion, then faster and then we ‘fight’.  When we fight, he mixes in everything he has taught me to that point and in theory, I apply said skills and overcome or if all else fails I just kick and punch and flail(interesting tid bit) until he lets me go or slams me on the ground. Also, if I am fighting him he will talk to me at the same time and say kick or punch or what are you suppose to be doing.  He comes at me and at the same time will ask me how many people are behind me.  He is training me to not just be focused on the one person in front of me and to be mindful of what is around me all the time even when I am engaged in something else.  Nothing like having fist coming at you and someone saying, “How many people are on the field”  “What color hat is on the 3rd guy from the left.”  I used to think, are you fricken kidding me, I don’t know.  Now, I can block a punch and answer at the same time and about 70% of the time I am right..  Sometimes I don’t know so I lie(which is huge because before it never would of occurred to me to lie) hoping I can fool him.  Yesterday it worked.   He asked me how many people were on the field and I said none.  I had no idea, but I didn’t remember seeing anyone when I first got there.  He said, “Nope,one”, “Look”, but when I turned around that person had walked off the field.  He said, “You got lucky”  Hey, a win is a win dude.

Yesterday, we did the “Hey, can I have your money deal.”  I hate it.  I hate going back there.  Hate it.  So, without warning he starts walking towards me and says, “can I have some money”.  I step back and say no.  He walks towards me and says, “Come on. just give me some money”.  I walk back and to the left and say no.  I am aware there is a fence next to me and I don’t want him to be able to get me backed up to it, so I walk the the other way.  He asks a few more times and I say no.  He rushes at me, but I move back and to the side, so he misses.  He tells me that was all good, but he asks me why didn’t I give the commands I have learned when training with my gun.  Why didn’t I say stop, get back?  Why didn’t I draw my gun?  He tells me I need to do a better job of incorporating my gun training with his training. He also tells me my instincts to move are good.  That is a lesson I have learned well from John.  I don’t ever stay in one place if someone comes at me.  I move immediately. I never stay in one place to reload or fix a malfunction.

A lot of the training is based on him simply grabbing my wrist and showing me how to get out of that, get some distance and draw.  He grabs my wrist nonstop.  My wrist are solid bruises because he grabs hard. Many times he will come at me and if I mess up he will say, what could you have done there?  The answer many times is, you got enough distance, go for your gun. At first if I couldn’t remember exactly what he told me then I would close my eyes and make a huffing noise.  He does not like this.  We have gone from uncross your legs, you don’t have good balance to open your eyes, how do you expect know what is going on. One time I blocked a punch but not how he taught me, so I closed my eyes and made the noise and he was like “what the heck”.  “You blocked the punch that is the point who cares how”.  “Trust yourself and also if you do that again I am coming after you”.  I did do it again and he did come after me.  Guess what?? That was the last time I closed my eyes or huffed.

He is teaching me what to do in a real life attack and not just hey lets scrap.  There is a defined purpose and it isn’t just ass kicking fun, although I think he thinks its a hoot to watch me flinch when he hits me, which I rarely do. 

Last thing, THANK YOU, truly, thank you.

Yesterday after my training with Arete, I came home, wrote a quick post(I was pretty excited) and then gathered up my kids to head to swim team.  As I sat there chit chatting with the other moms and dads, my chest began to hurt.  Hurt to breath, hurt to move, hurt not to move, HURT, HURT, HURT.  Each hour it got worse and worse, so my husband grabbed me some Tylenol in hopes it would help.  It did not.  I didn’t whine or cry, but by the time I got home everything I did sent a wave of pain through my body.  It was painful just to slice the pork for the tacos. I thought tomorrow morning is gonna suck.  To my surprise, I am actually not in much pain.  My chest is sore, but totally bearable and although completely covered in bruises from head to toe, I don’t really ache.  I am seriously tough as nails people. Tough as nails.

I am super relieved about this because as I sat there in pain last night I wondered how I was going to get through a long weekend of work.  I considered a flask full of martinis to ease the pain, but new students, guns and alcohol seemed like a bad idea.  Plan B was a few thousand milligrams of Vitamin M(Motrin for you non- military types), but looks like Plan C will work…I am gonna be fine.

Good new is that I get to work, bad news is I can’t go to Nancy R’s kid shoot, but my husband is going to attend in my place.  He is bringing E and the one we call The Boy.  I was really looking forward to it, but 1. when you have to work you have to work and 2. I LOVE to work. E is bouncing off the walls in anticipation.  All morning that was the talk at the breakfast table. Hopefully she won’t be too shy. Shy is not a concern with The Boy. I am making goodies today for them to bring and share. 

Really good post over at God, Gals, Guns, Grub.  A few things to think about beyond the normal self defense stuff.

Get over being a victim- check(done with that)
Learn to use a gun- check(gonna keep doing that)
Get a warrior mindset-check(fine tuning that)
Fight with a Marine/MMA dude- check(so, gonna do that again and again and again)

All and all some pretty good accomplishments.  I would say we are well on our way.

No, no, I don’t mind at all…I HIT HIM. I HIT HIM. I HIT HIM!!!!!!

In fact I gave him a bloody nose and for a short time his hand didn’t really work because of where I punched him.

The bloody nose was an accident, but the point is I punched him.  Not once or twice, but again and again.  I didn’t need him to threaten me or even dig deep into my inner anger, I just did it.

I got to the park and Arete was there.  He said, lets go and I was like umm, what, ok.  He started throwing punches and I did the normal blocking deal and then when I saw a chance I hit him.  It wasn’t pretty or super hard, but I hit him without provocation, other than then the fact that I was getting hit. After the first hit, I smiled and I thought, that was easy.  As the training progressed I got more comfortable and hit, punched, blocked, kneeded, you know all around kicked butt.

When he is ready to fight he puts his fist up which means I should do the same because he doesn’t always wait for me to do so before he starts hitting me.  Towards the end he put his fists up, but not like he was really prepared, so I punched him in the chest and said, “You should have your hands up.”  So, he smiled, put them up and then I punched him in the stomach and said, “A little slow.”  He smiled again and then came at me. I did take a beating for that, but it was so worth it.

His punches were harder and faster.  I am not so fond of getting punched in the stomach, but I totally took it.  I end up on the ground a lot, but I am getting faster and avoid it more often and once I end up there, I am getting meaner. 

After my cocky smack talking deal, he grabbed me and picked me up to throw me on the ground.  Normally, I fight to get a way, but this time I grabbed him into me, pulled him down on top of me and pushed(I suspect he helped launch himself as to not completely crush me)him over my head.  Unfortunately, I pulled him right on top on my body and the weight of his body landed right between my breast as I hit the ground.  I heard some cracking and thought, Huh, that hurt.

I did have to take a tiny little second to lay there.  He asked if I could breath and I said yes and I only needed about 30 seconds before I was back up and ready to go.  Thinking it is gonna hurt tomorrow.

If I leave my one foot out in front of the other one, he steps on it.  Annoying,  so one time his foot was out in front of the his other foot and I stepped on it.  I think I ended up on the ground.  He said, “Hey, I haven’t taught you everything I know.”  I said, “Don’t care, if I see it I am gonna try”.  “I would rather get the crap kicked out me then be afraid”.  I got a high five.

Did, I mention I HIT HIM?!

Last Thursday we had a meeting with the superintendent of our children’s school district, but when we arrived, there had been some mix up on their end and we had to reschedule.  Today was that rescheduled meeting.

I want to say again that both my husband and I are very happy with this district.  We like the teachers and the education our kids receive.  We have always felt like a team with them and like the things we were concerned about did get addressed.

My husband and I got called back, but the superintendent was otherwise engaged and could not meet with us, so we met with the head of Public Relations and the head of Safety.

Very nice people.  The meeting began with the head of safety telling us not worry.  He told us that the school district has a plan and all is well.  I said “Great, what is that plan?”  He informed me that due to safety concerns I could not know the plan, but that there was indeed a plan.

I said , OK I understand that you do not want to divulge the ins and outs of your plan, but lets say there is an active shooter in the building of one of my kid’s schools, what are they, the kids, to do?  He never really answered the question.  He said that he and the principal work very closely with the sheriffs department and that each situation is handled on a case by case basis.

I tell him my concerns.  I tell him that often times by the time the police show up the whole thing could be over or a lot destruction has already taken place.  He disagreed.   He told me statistically school violence in the form of bombs and shooters is low. I told him I understood that, but stats didn’t mean much to me.  I told him my children are in these schools, so I would like to know what he and his staff are telling my children they should do if there turns out to be a real live shooter in their school.  What are the teachers telling the kids during these drills (He told us they conduct 2 lock down drills and 2 evacuation drills a year. )? 

Basically, I got more, we work on a case by case basis and very closely with the sheriff.  He felt the sheriff was very proactive in dealing with these issues, but I couldn’t get him to answer what “proactive” means. Pretty much the kids are told in the event of an emergency they are to do what they are told by the teacher which is, to be quiet and not use cell phones.  We were told that the teachers know what to do and we should trust that.

I tell them that it is mine and my husband’s responsibility to assure the safety of our children and when we decide to temporarily intrust their safety to someone else, it is still our responsibility to know if the person or people we are handing them over to, can in fact keep them safe or at least have a plan to do so and I would like to know what the teachers are told to do, generally speaking.

My husband adds, You say the teachers are trained.  How?  Do they know they have been trained?  Do they actually know what to do?  If we asked them would we get the same answer from each?

We were told that they have meetings on safety.  They are required by state law to conduct a safety audit and from that they can determine what needs to be changed or improved.  He said they have committee meetings and in those meetings they discuss how to handle a variety of issues and that there is a manual.  My husband asked if the manual is on a shelf somewhere in the teacher’s room or is it a well worn out book that has been referenced again and again.  He asked them if we sat down with each of our children’s teachers, would they know where the manual was and what was in it.

Both administers felt that the teachers would know what to do.  They explained that some of the teachers participate in drills on the weekends with the local police to run through different scenarios.  They actually conduct these at various schools.  I liked that.  All the schools except for the elementary school  have one armed police officers on campus.  I did not feel like we were getting the run around, but I also am not satisfied with the answers we got.  I do think they have a plan and I do think they take it seriously, but I never did an answer on what my specific children are being taught and what exactly they are to do in a bomb threat situation or an active shooter event or even if there is a fire. 

The safety person kept telling us that the principal and teachers know what to do, so I told him that I have been a substitute in this school district for 3 years and I have no idea what he wants me to do.  I told him I have a plan, but I am not sure my plan meshes with his.  I explained that I have never once been told what to do in any of those situations.  He did admit that is a weak area and they are planning on working to fix that.

I did not expect to get satisfactory answers and I did not think one meeting would be enough, but it is a start and I feel good that we called for the meeting.  I did ask how many other parents have called for a meeting on this subject and the answer was very few.  They did say they were open to ideas, suggestion, and ways to improve.  I gave them the article by Greg Ellifrtz.  I told them I did not expect them to incorporate anything, but that I thought it was a good article and wondered what he thought.  I mostly want to see if he reads it and if he will respond to me.  If he does that will give me some indication that he takes our concerns seriously and is at least willing to actively dialog with us and not just pat us on the head.

Not entirely sure where we are going to go from here.  I do know we will be asking each of our children’s teachers what the plan is.  My husband suspects we will get 4 or 5 different answers.  I also plan to do a better job of debriefing my kids after each of the drills are preformed.  Asking them what happened leading up to the drill, what they were told to do, what they actually did.  With my older children, I will ask what the people around them were doing, specifically the teachers, but also the other children.  I am also going to reach out to other parents and get a feel for how they think the school district is doing and if any of them have ideas, concerns, suggestions. If any of them have thought about it at all.  So, step one complete.

I am going to have a lot to say about the things this man writes.  Fascinating book!

Yesterday’s post touched a lot of people.  I was honored to read so many emails from people sharing their stories.  Thank you for those who reached out to me.  I was blessed and touched that you trusted me with intimate and personal parts of your life.

Lt. Col. Grossman says this…

“Very often what they(in this case military people he interviewed) shared with me was something that they had never shared with anyone before…I have been taught, and I hold it to be a fundamental truth, that when someone withholds something traumatic it can cause great damage..there is therapeutic value in the catharsis that comes with lancing those emotional boils.” 

I have found that to be true in my own healing as well as in the healing of those who share their lives with me.

The Colonel talks a lot about conditioning and how things we learn in our childhood most definitely affect how we view violence and determine whether we fight, flight or submit. I find his view on submitting endlessly fascinating and I am going to talk about that later, but the flight or flight model, at least in his research, is flawed.  He argues that understand the culture(both personally as in our homes and in general, as in the greater society) in which we were raised aids greatly in understand and eventually overcoming our conditioning.

So, I am starting to do that.  I am starting to look deeper and see more and more how my conditioning led me to fully submit, but also how it is keeping me from moving forward in some of my training and my mindset.

As I have said before, I didn’t know I had any issues with my childhood until last March.  I was happy, calm, confident, good to go.  I knew I didn’t talk or cry, but I never saw it as a problem.  It was just how I dealt with tings that were hard and I viewed it as me being strong.  I could cry for others.  I cried on 9-11 and for weeks after.  I cried when our friends were killed.  I cried at the news or those stupid Kleenex commercials that come on at Christmas. 

Crying for myself is a much tougher thing to do.  I like to be in control.  I have seen out of control and it almost always ended with me covered in welts.  For me anger is bad and it is dangerous and I have never known how to handle it, so I learned not to be too anger or too sad and never out of control. It has worked very, very well for me.

I think a lot about training. A lot.  I am sure it is annoying as all get out to read week after week about how I am going to punch and how I want to punch and then I don’t punch.  I promise you, it more annoying for me.

Sometimes I stand in the mirror and I practice punching.  I try to see what it looks like, what it will feel like. I try to imagine getting mad and angry and punching Arete.  I am alone, no one is watching me and even then, hitting into the air, I just stand there with my fists curled up, until I drop them to my side in frustration.

I don’t know what will happen if I let go.  I don’t know what will happen if I let myself feel and get angry about that day about any day.   I have started a few times to get mad, if you have been following me for a while then you have seen those posts.  I have come very close, but I always pull back. I don’t even know if it right to get angry and then hit someone?  A bad guy, of course, but a trainer…can I do that? What if I do get anger and what if I fight someone who isn’t a bad guy, what does that make me?  Oh my god, that’s it, that is the problem.  I am afraid I will be like my parents. I am afraid of becoming violent. It’s not about the good/guy bad guy thing, it’s about being afraid that I will become them. Holy shit…I just this very second realized that.  Huh.

M- Mom did you write a post?

Me- Yes, I did.  I talked about you.

M- Can I read it?

Me- It has some language.

She giggles.

M- Thought you didn’t believe in coddling. 

Me- Funny.  There is a difference.  Not everything is appropriate for a child to read or hear.

M- I know.  Can I read it?

I let her read it. 

M- That is a really good post mom.

Me-  Do you have anything to say about what I wrote about you?

M- Like what?

Me- Like maybe you could give yourself a break.

M- No. How will I get into a good college or get a sports scholarship if I don’t work hard and make sacrifices.

Me- You won’t.  You do have to try and work hard and make sacrifices, I am just saying that maybe if you do all that and you fall short, it could just be something that stinks instead of an attack on your character.  You don’t have to be perfect to BE perfect.

M- I know.  I am not a perfectionist, I just don’t like to make any mistakes.

I giggle.

Me- Have you looked up the definition of perfectionist recently? 

M- So today at school Billy was flirting with  Suzy and Mary was upset because she likes Billy and I thought why do girls waste their time on boys at this age… She spend the next 20 minutes telling me about her day. 

I have recently had the revelation that I attach moral value to ideas or situations that do not require a moral judgement.

I have known for a long time that I was a rule follower and that I took that behavior to the most literal and extreme measure.  I didn’t analyze why or question it, it just was who I was.  I didn’t just follow the rules though, I believed that not following them was morally wrong and made a statement as to the kind of person I was.  I was completely perplexed by people who claimed to be moral, but broke rules or laws.  I had totally acquiesced my thinking to some made up set of standards that hang on the walls of every kindergarten room.  My parents, the schools, the government told me what to think and how to act and I never questioned it.  Not once did I say, is that true for me?  Do I believe that?  I did believe it, to my core, but it was not based on anything that came from me and it never occurred to me that I could reject their standards.

For me there is a long list of reasons why.  I was in an abusive home. A very abusive home.  My mother liked things a certain way.  An EXACT way.  She didn’t just say the hair brush goes there.  It went in a specific direction at an exact angle and if I or my brother were off just millimeter the price to be paid was high.  Unfortunately, my mother was an alcoholic so often times she would forget the angle she told me. Our conversations might look like this…

Mom- Why the hell did you put the brush there?  How many god damn times have I told you that fucking brush doesn’t go there?

Me- But yesterday you said…

Mom-Don’t question me. Don’t ever fucking question me.

Followed by some kind of beating probably with that same brush.

Guess who learned very early not to question even if I knew the person was wrong?  Guess who grew up hating cussing and violence?? Guess who craved peace and calm so much she just learned not to feel?

I didn’t have the luxury of being a rebellions teen.  I didn’t get to explore in college and figure out what was real and what wasn’t.  I was grown up by the time I was 10.  I graduated high school a year early and went to college.  I needed out of my house and I was committed to never returning.  I was a college professor by the time I was 26. I was very focused and very serious.  I did exactly what I was told because the consequences were to great for me not to. 

For me morality was what I was told it was even though the people telling me clearly were not behaving in a moral fashion.

Much of the craziness that has shown up in these posts over the past year stem from me placing a moral value on my actions, actions that have no moral standard. I, for the first time, began to question what I thought I knew.  When I realized that I had no idea what I believed to be right and wrong, I made a conscious and concerted effort to figure it out.  I questioned everything and in that process I waivered.  I might stand up to say a rude anonymous poster and then take it back when someone said I wasn’t being compassionate.  I realized right away that I wasn’t sure if I should have stood up or not.  I wasn’t looking for approval, I was honestly lost and anxious. The anxiety didn’t come from someone disagree with me; it came from my own sense of not knowing what I believed to be the right thing in that situation. The lack of foundation caused me to question, but I didn’t question my beliefs, I questioned my worth. I had placed a moral value on a non-moral situation.

In my awareness of my own tendencies, I have started to notice when other people attach moral arguments to their behaviors or that of others.  My teenager is famous for this.  She has what I would call a very high moral standard, the problem is, it is totally misguided.  She doesn’t get disappointed that she got a 98 instead of 100, she decides she is a total failure at life because of it.  No matter how many times my husband and I tell her, she is doing fine and that it is her honest effort that matters, she never hears us.  She has so internalized her belief  that anything less than perfection is a moral failure that she can not conduct herself in any other manner, no matter how hard she tries. 

I have often heard people say, it doesn’t matter what other people think.  You have to do what is best for you and not worry about others.  I have heard it and heard it and it’s true, but I don’t think that is the problem.  I don’t think any of us care what others think.  The problem isn’t that we care what they think, it is that we falsely believe we know what we think.

I don’t care what others think of me. Approval from others is a vale covering my own uncertainty. It is the conditioning of my mind so deep that the set of values I instinctively react from are essentially not actually the ones I believe in and that contradiction is where the problem lies.

I had a conversation with a lovely, lovely woman on FB this morning.  She told me she respected how I can tactfully have conversations with people who disagree with me on gun issues and that she wished she had more of that.  I am not going to get into the specifics, but she felt like she should be more forthcoming with that fact that she carries a gun.  Her ultimate argument was, “I was raised to believe honestly is the best policy.”   Her conflict isn’t that she is looking for approval or trying to please others, it is that she believes she is conducting herself in a manner that is contrary to her beliefs about being honest. I would argue it is her beliefs about honesty that are the problem and not her behavior. She has attached a moral judgement to a non-moral behavior.

Her courage to decide for herself what is best for her and her family and sticking to that truth, that is the moral behavior not whether or not she is “honest” with her co-workers about something that is none of their business in the first place. I would say, morally speaking, her behavior is right on.

That is the moral standard to which we all should be true.

 **NOTE** Please know that I truly have no problems associated with my childhood.  I promise you I have long sense dealt with those issues way back in my late 20’s.  The attack a year ago has brought to light things that I need to work out like not being able to fight and in my efforts to overcome years of conditioning I have been able to find and pin point things from my childhood that contributed to that mindset, but there is no pain in doing so.  Those wounds are healed.  I share as a way to help you understand my journey and how I got to a place of total compliance, but I assure those memories are not a source of pain for me, quite the opposite.

On Saturday I got up at 4:30am like I always do when I work.  I hopped in the shower and when I got out my hubby was waiting there with a cup of coffee…heaven! 

John has another person who works for him, Ryan.  He has been working for John a while, so he knows the ins and outs of the operation very well.  Originally he was suppose to show me the ropes, but the first few weekends I worked he had conflicts, so I went it alone.  This weekend I finally got to meet him.  Lucky me.  He doesn’t read my blog, so I can say whatever I want and get away with it, but truly he is a good guy.  Smart, funny, nice, confident…  We spent a lot of time together just talking because while John is teaching the classroom portion Ryan and I have nothing to do.  We talked family, guns, war movies, guns, actual war, self defense, military, John(but don’t tell him), guns, and I think guns, oh and books.  He is the one who suggested I read On Killing by Lt. Col. Grossman.  If you have to spend 12 hours a day with people, it should be people like the guys I work with.  Had a blast!!

The day started out hot.  By 8am it was already 80 degrees.  Outside, all day with little to no shade in high heat and humidity made for a long day.  I love the heat and the temp didn’t bother me, but I was pretty sweaty and sticky.  My pants felt 5 pounds heavier by the end of the day.  Our class was a mix of men and women and a variety of skill levels as usual.  I keep waiting for the complete jerk to take a class from us, but so far, we have only had the best folks.  This group was a little more sedate than the past groups, but still good people to hang with for 2 days.

We had a young girl, 18, that blew us a way.  I am not sure of her experience with guns prior to taking the course, but her accuracy was scary good.  Her dad took the class with her, which I loved, and he was bursting with pride.  She was quiet, but when the class was all done and people were standing around chit chatting she came up to talk to me.  She was talking very fast and she could not stop smiling.  She beamed!  Good stuff. 

Each student has a neat stories of their life and I like hearing what brought them to our course.  I truly enjoy that part of the job.  I enjoy every part of my job, but you know that.

One student usually stands out though.  For me it was a woman about my age, had no experience at all and I mean none, didn’t really want to be there and was terrified. She was smart and had common sense, but it was hiding under all that fear.  She had about every “issue” a new shooter could have and no matter how many times she was reminded to say, not put both index fingers in the trigger guard she just couldn’t get her brain to engage.

I love the brain and I love watching it work.  I could clearly see that she was so heavily concentrating on one aspect that she had nothing left to be able to address any other issue. I would say that she was the student that has present the greatest challenge in terms of getting her mind into the game.

Typically after students get the first few shots off they relax and steadily grow in both skill and confidence.  This was not the case with this lady.  She was never able to relax. By the end of day 1 we had made some progress with her, but she was still very shaky.  Before she left for the day, I gave her a little pep talk as did John.

One of the things that was most rewarding in dealing with her is that we had to think outside the box and find unique was to relate to her.  Trying to help her simply understand the skill we were trying to teach her and at the same time finding ways to get her mind to be able to hold on to the information long enough for her to perform it correctly and build those precious neural pathways. I was able to aide in this, almost instinctively.  That was pretty cool.

I worried a bit about her that night and hoped that she would return for day 2.  She did and while still nervous, she relaxed enough to be able to better focus.  She struggled to keep up with the class on day one, but day two she kept pace.  By the last drill she was on fire.  Cool, calm, collected.  She rocked it!  It was amazing to watch.  At the end of the day I saw her smile for the first time all weekend and she came to give me a huge hug. 

I would say it was easily the most exhausting, thrilling, rewarding time I have ever spent at work.  I can’t wait to do it again!