Book Report: Wild Old Woman

Once again, my friend Ann thrusted a book at me and said she knew I’d like it. She’s very good at selecting reading material for me. Ann said there was a part in it about Burning Man, did I know anything about it?

Well, yes, I know people whose adult children go, and my jewelry friend got married there. And I get the concept, but never had an urge to go. Too much sand and too many drugs for me. I really hate sand and wind combined. It gets everywhere. And most of my life I avoided psychedelic drugs. I was afraid of messing up the only brain I had.

But, that’s neither here nor there. The book Ann gave me was Wild Old Woman, by Joan Maloof, a great writer about trees and nature. This memoir, more about love, sex, spirituality, and adventure, was self published this past summer.

And yes, indeed, this was a memoir that resonated with this weird old Suna woman as I’m sure it did with Ann. Bonus: I learned a lot about Burning Man, among other places. I don’t plan to go, but Maloof sure learned a lot there.

Sometimes memoirs are interesting because the writer does fascinating things or meets famous people. This one intrigued me because Maloof experienced many life changes and spiritual insights, and she reacted just like I would, for better or worse. That felt a little weird. I appreciated her honesty and openness. She’s a real, fallible human with many strengths, but who likes to examine her failings as endlessly as I do.

One of the best parts of the wild old woman’s tale (she is a couple of years older than me) comes after the narrative ends and Maloof finishes her dream journey to Bhutan. She provides two “meta” chapters that outline how the book took shape, was reviewed, and was published. I just loved how this section provides insight, especially into what’s not in the book and why.

I learned something in this section that gave me a useful new understanding about a certain kind of very frustrating relationship, one I have experienced as well. This relationship is with a man who keeps pushing her away and pulling her back, while her brain recognizes the pattern but her heart understands why he acts the way he does. It’s called a trauma bond. Here’s what she discovered:

I learned that it was more of a one-way thing. Someone alternates being kind with being unkind, and the bondee sticks around waiting for the next dose of kindness-sugar. P. 199

That explains an extremely embarrassing relationship I was enmeshed in when I was much younger. I knew the guy had issues and was toying with me, but I kept coming back, hoping for more kindness.

Maloof pointed out that her research said that the only way to get out of a trauma bond relationship is to completely cut it off. And I did that. I was in contact once more when I was older, and the person started right back in with the poor me, everyone is out to get me stories. I didn’t reply.

I’m just happy to know there’s a better word for what I went through for a few years than pathological obsession. I feel closer to closure over this regrettable and embarrassing period of my life. It’s hard to admit I could be so gullible, but I was young and inexperienced. I have worked years to forgive myself. I mostly have done so.

Sadly (in my mind) Maloof is still going through the push and pull, though distanced. Maybe it’s okay. On the other hand, she’s still living alone and free, running her wonderful nonprofit to save trees. We all have things to work on, even us chronic meditators.