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Is silence golden? It has to be when "rocking the boat" means the psychological death of ostracism (or worse). A popular song illustrates this ambiguous complexity: "Silence is golden, but my eyes still see." Very often what is at first thought of as a golden "silence" soon shades into "passive aggression" and then a "conspiracy of silence." My book explores the anomaly of "Silence," placing it in a context where people usually turn to express problems with the larger society: the mental health profession. But the therapy profession (controlled by, defined by and playing off of the larger society) is unfortunately the problem and not the solution. (It's all about rigid, inflexible, too socially channeled boundaries). Sure, such boundaries have a purpose. But boundaries (like "rules") must be periodically reevaluated. Otherwise they become tyrannical and out of touch, gradually losing their stated purpose. There should be room for "boundary disputes." If boundaries are owned and ever vigilantly enforced/perpetuated by those with all the disproportionate "power/authority," the word "communication" has no meaning at all. ("Mining the Sounds of Silence" is about people everywhere hurt and abused by boundaries for the sake of boundaries. Which means "boundaries" that are far too rigid and "locked in." That overprotect socially channeled "authority figures," forgetting completely about those they purport to be helping). It means picking up on (or "mining") the difference between what people seem to be saying (usually what they are told to say and think to "keep the peace") and what they really mean but can't put into words.
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I wrote this book to give voice to the profound dissatisfaction (and outrage) I experienced over the years at the hypocrisy of the "helping" professions. Every book on the market on this subject merely parroted back every other one like a never ending "vicious circle" of "monkey talk" from which there was no escape.
I wanted to finally put on the table for public viewing not only the extreme lack of helpfulness of the "helping" professions (as far as any genuine "transitioning" or real "healing" is concerned), but the way in which the horrendous problems within today's society are played off of (and exploited) to further the invisible agenda of an out of control, money driven system.
It became almost an obsession to me to be able to put this into words in a way that would be genuinely "proactive" or challenging, and not "reactive." And, since nothing previously written satisfied my desire for the truth, I was forced to blaze my own trail. To come up with my own answers for everything.
I've also written another book ("It's So Easy To Be Smart With Someone Else's Heart: The Sound of Your Own Wheels") about my profound disagreement with Catholic Church policy regarding birth control.
To summarize, I enjoy writing books that question how the invisible set up of society (or religious teaching) impacts on (and often destroys) people's real lives. Books that explore the underpinnings in a way that throws light on so many ideas within American life today that are hopelessly off base.
Anyone wishing to share similar experiences can contact me at now02134@Yahoo.com
My Amazon Book URL is amazon.com/author/marysinclair
Margaret (who loved reading celebrity biographies) had been slowly turning the pages of Gene Tierney's biography when she suddenly came across a set of paragraphs that pulled the rug out from under her usual comfortably relaxed (but complacent) reading style and abruptly changed her life (and her way of seeing things) forever.
Paragraphs describing the actress poised on the balcony of her elegantly sumptuous luxury suite apartment fifteen flights above the city, about to jump. Sentences making her head spin and shocking her to her very core.
In spite of that, Margaret's eyes had remained riveted to the printed page. Even though she had always hated speed reading, she now found herself gulping down the words to see what came next. She couldn't take them in fast enough (like trying to drink an entire quart of vodka in one swallow).
Even now the reactivated thought associations conjured up after reading for the first time about Gene Tierney balanced precariously over the city and about to jump were still graphically vivid in her mind. Causing Margaret to cringe with fear as the fascinating (but horrific) image kept entering and reentering her thoughts again and again willy nilly.
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