Friday, August 29, 2014

Waking Up

Friday, August 29, 2014



Where does the conscious awareness reside within a human being?  This was a thought that went through my mind as I was eating a cookie after my lunch at Abbott Northwestern Hospital.  I have some profound thoughts at the most unexpected of times.

Yesterday I wrote about “tasting something again…for the first time.”  I posted a commercial discoverable on YouTube made in the year 1990 that featured Kelloggs corn flakes.  It was a bit amusing to watch.  Not only did the commercial itself strike me as a bit ‘old school’ but the quality of the recording definitely had that pre-year 2000 feel about it.  When I am not feeling immense sadness I find myself chuckling at that now seemingly archaic world that existed in 1990. 

In 1990 I was still in high school.  The Internet was not yet a publically accessible phenomenon.  The undergraduate students who have arrived to attend school at the University of Minnesota did not yet exist…unless they are older students not typical of the undergraduate college student demographic.  In 1990 the Berlin Wall had only recently fallen.  Then future President Bill Clinton was a relatively unknown person.  I have no idea what George W. Bush was doing in 1990 but I doubt it was all that significant.  When Bush went on to become President in 2000 I think it truly proved that anyone can become President in the United States.  Anyone!

As I noted above I was still in high school in 1990.  I was a teenager.  And I was unaware of how the trauma I had experienced years prior to 1990 was still affecting me.  Sometimes the subtle impact of egregious harm is not fully tangible.  I wish I would have enjoyed better health care and more attention from my father.  But it was not to be.

Despite how it may seem if you read my blog closely and regularly I do indeed feel myself at a point of imminent departure.  I am finally really and truly beginning to ‘get over’ the legacy of my early life.  Such freedom has not been easy to win.  I have been patiently working with my therapist for over a year.  In the last several months I am starting to recognize the emergence of a new person…or maybe actually the person I have always been.  This process of transformation is exciting, dizzying, demanding, confusing and surreal…and on occasion all at once.

Some time ago I found an article online that described significant signs that may indicate you are experiencing an awakening.  You can find the article here.  As I read through the signs I found myself recognizing that I have experienced a number of them.

I’ll be leaving soon on a Labor Day weekend getaway.  You can find new posts on my blog starting again next Monday, September 1st.




Thursday, August 28, 2014

The Journey of Transcending An Early History of Dysfunction

Friday, August 29, 2014


Last night I watched an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims on the USA channel.  Lately I have been feeling that I ought to refrain from watching television altogether.  But then I will watch an episode of a crime show like I did last night and be reminded, yet again, of how dysfunctional my family of origin was.

The episode featured a highly disturbed young boy who would mistreat his sister but then blame others for his behavior.  At one point he withdrew a knife from under his bedding and engaged in a standoff with his mother.  At another moment in the episode the father virtually screamed at his son about the necessity of taking responsibility for his actions.  As I was watching that particular scene I couldn't help but think of my father.  I have felt for a very long time that my father has a very limited capacity to comprehend the impact of his actions on others.  To this day it seems he still cannot comprehend how devastating it was to me when he was nearly murdered when I was eight years old...and by his own wife no less.  Earlier in my adulthood I had tried to 'take the high road', be a compassionate, kind, understanding man and forgive my father for the numerous ways he had failed me when I was a child.

But then last year happened.  In the midst of feeling profoundly distressed and truly physically ill I reached out to my father in the hope of receiving some emotional support at a time when I felt overwhelmed and consumed with grief.  I was consumed with grief in response to my visit to Germany in May, 2013 in which I saw my biological mother for the first time in eleven years.  I reached out to father in the hope of receiving the type of loving attention a boy will ideally receive from his father...when he is still a boy.  I was, yet again, very disappointed.  All I wanted was for my very own father to talk to me for a mere ten or fifteen minutes.  I needed him to be present to my grief.  But yet again, just as in my childhood, he could not and would not meet my most basic need for attention.  Last summer I finally realized that I had to let go of any hope I had left that my father would ever give me the type of attention I need.

By the end of the episode of Law & Order the boy had trapped a child friend in a closet, drown his friend's pet in the bathtub of the adjacent bathroom and fought with a detective after first holding a gun on the detective.  Now imagine what could have happened if all the people who had been a part of this deeply disturbed boy's life had paid attention to the blatant signs that something was seriously wrong with him.  How could the sequence of events that ultimately unfolded have been prevented or at least mitigated if the adults in this boy's world had paid better attention?

Though I am steadily working through my grief, much of which is a natural result of my decision to sever ties with my own paternal family because of their own failure to understand how much I was being harmed when I was a kid, I still find myself feeling positively consumed by it on occasion.  The frequency of those moments in which I feel myself within an abyss of darkness is thankfully diminishing.  But I still feel sad that my father's near death was apparently not a sufficiently shocking enough incident for his own siblings and parents to pause and wonder if perhaps there was something deeply wrong with him.  The horrific and climactic end of my father's second marriage is over thirty years in the past now.  And yet I am still working out the pain I experienced now...in the year 2014.

I wish the adults who were available to me when I was a child had paid more attention to me.  If they had I might not still be working through the harm it caused to me now.

Maybe if I disclose to my aunts and uncles that my very vision and experience of the world is so radically different now precisely because I have gone through effective therapy they will finally truly listen to me.  Maybe if they read every single entry of my blog they would finally begin to understand how I felt when I was a kid.  But that seems to be a tall order.  Some people are determined to live in denial no matter the cost...to themselves and to those they profess to love.

It feels a bit strange to experience a profound awakening at the age of forty.  When my birthday arrives next month and I turn forty-one I will have achieved something my father never achieved.  I will have lived to the age of forty-one without ever having my own spouse attempt to murder me.

I am doing a lot better than my parents ever did in their lives.  It's my dream that the next year of my life that dawns on my birthday will be the best one yet!






Taste Them Again...For The First Time

Thursday, August 28, 2014


I ventured way back to the distant year of 1990 to find a commercial I have been thinking about this morning.  Check it out here on YouTube.  This slogan used for a Corn Flakes commercial has been running through my mind lately.  I feel as if I am seeing the world again...for the first time.  I have a sense of childlike wonder that most people of my age bracket do not exhibit.

I am adjusting to working my two part-time jobs now.  I generally find them relatively enjoyable to go to each day.  Yesterday, as I rode the train to my therapy appointment, I noticed the plethora of new students wandering all over the University of Minnesota campus.  As the campus passed by the windows of my train I had this unexpected realization.  These new students do not know a world without the Internet.  Read that statement again.  These new students do not know a world without the Internet.  The youngest undergraduates now studying at the University of Minnesota were born around the year 1996.  I had finished college by that time.  It's a bit surreal to think that there are now people of legal age seeking a higher education who have grown up in a world in which the Internet has always been a part of their lives.  The world has never been so globalized and interconnected.  

As for me I find myself wanting to take time to tune out a world very filled with lots of technology and tune in to the world I perceive through my senses.  For such a very long time I was functioning in the world somewhat like a person who attempts to listen to the wind or see the sky from deep inside a house.  In this metaphor the house symbolizes my body.  It's as if a portion of my consciousness was hiding away inside me.  But I believe it would be more accurate to state that a portion of my awareness wasn't actually with me.  A portion of me was in some sort of exile.  Psychotherapy combined with shamanic journeywork made the mending of my full consciousness possible.  I am still adjusting to living in a way in which I am present to the present moment.  It's a true discipline to remain present and not get lost in thoughts connected to other times and places.

In early October I will enjoy the gift of the opportunity to travel to Hawaii for approximately nine days. I have been invited to assist in the preparatory work for the annual opening of the Hui Ho'olana Center.  I am excited to return to Hawaii...to see it again for the first time.


I will be going away for the Labor Day weekend tomorrow afternoon.  I am looking forward to a long weekend near a lake and enjoying what remains of the summer season.  It's been my experience that autumn does not hesitate to announce its arrival here in Minnesota.  In a few short weeks the leaves will be turning.  I will take a brief pause from writing while I am away.  You can expect my next entry on September 1st.











Wednesday, August 27, 2014

When Children Die


Wednesday, August 27, 2014



The recent news coverage of the funeral of Michael Brown has prompted me to think about the topic of childhood, how children are raised and what the prospects for generations that come after me may be.  Let me reiterate who Michael Brown is for those of you who read my blog outside the United States and for those of you living here in the United States who have been doing the equivalent of living under a rock.  Michael Brown is the African American youth who was shot to death on August 9th in Ferguson, Missouri.  His most unfortunate death ignited discussion about race relations, racism, the experience and challenges young minority men face and the militarization of law enforcement.  It is my hope that some greater good will come from this unfortunate tragedy.  A week ago, on Monday, August 18th, I found myself feeling very agitated as I contemplated the imagery regarding this story that was all over the media.  My anxiety spiked that day and it makes perfect sense that it did.  I wonder if this country is becoming a police state…if it hasn’t already.

Depending on the particular circumstances a single death can sometimes prove to be a source of immense trauma for a community or even a whole nation.  This has happened when major leaders like John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. and Harvey Milk have been murdered.  Such deaths can stymie entire movements for political and social change.  And yet other times unexpected death can galvanize communities and nations to vigorously demand social justice and the reform of corrupt institutions.  The death of Michael Brown touches a nerve partly because it draws attention to the prospects and fates of minorities and others with minimal access to significant opportunity.  Indeed, just how just and representative can a police department be when the demographics of its officers are essentially completely unrepresentative of the community it serves?

After the Newtown, Connecticut tragedy nearly two years ago I felt especially incensed.  I know my outrage was partially a response to the horrible loss of life.  But I also felt immensely distressed because the loss of life rubbed open my own psychic wounds that were a result of the gun violence that directly affected my own life.  At that time, despite the fact that I had previously undergone therapeutic treatment, I was still walking around unaware of how the trauma of my early life history was still affecting me. 

It is my opinion that the rights of those who carry guns are given more weight in our national discourse and policies compared to the rights of children and law abiding adults who would prefer to live in a less violent society.  I take no issue with the idea of allowing adult citizens of a nation to have access to and use weapons…in theory.  Unfortunately there is often a wide gulf between theory and reality.  Much ink has been spilled about the gun culture in the United States in the time since the Newtown tragedy in December, 2012.  One timely criticism that has been offered is that we require more education and oversight of those who operate automobiles than those who carry guns.  Automobiles are not designed to be weapons to intimidate or kill others.  Sometimes they are intentionally used that way.  And sometimes accidents happen.  Guns, on the other hand, are designed to be used as a means of hunting, protecting property, protecting self and protecting other people.  And they are also designed to kill.  When used on a larger geopolitical scale guns and other weaponry may be used to protect entire nation states.

The tragedy of Michael Brown’s death led me to focus today’s entry on the issue of violence and how it affects children.  I am focusing specifically on the United States of America.  The United States has an extremely high rate of gun violence when compared against other industrialized, ‘First World’ nations.  Below is a sampling of statistics taken word for word from a July, 2013 report available on the website of the Children’s Defense Fund:

§  The U.S. accounts for less than 5 percent of the global population, but owns an estimated 35 to 50 percent of all civilian-owned guns in the world.

§  American companies manufacture enough bullets each year to fire 31 rounds into every one of our citizens.

§  U.S. children and teens were 32 times more likely to die from a gun homicide and 10 times more likely to die from a gun suicide or a gun accident than all their peers in the other high-income countries combined.

§  82 children under 5 died from guns in 2010, compared to 55 law enforcement officers killed by guns in the line of duty.

§  In 2010, 45 percent of gun deaths and 46 percent of gun injuries were among Black children and teens, although they comprised only 15 percent of all children and teens.

§  Between 1963 and 2010, 59,265 Black children and teens were killed by guns—more than 17 times greater than the recorded lynchings of Black people of all ages in the 86 years from 1882 to 1968.

§  166,500 children and teens died from guns on American soil between 1963 and 2010, while 52,183 U.S. soldiers were killed in action in the Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq wars combined during that same period.

§  The 105,177 gun deaths and injuries to children, teens and adults that occurred in 2010 cost the nation $8.4 billion in medical and other direct costs, $52.5 billion in lost productivity and lost wages, and $113.3 billion in lost enjoyment of life.


Having read through these statistics I ask you to ask yourself this simple question:

Do you believe we have a genuine policy problem with gun violence in the United States? 


When the number of children and teens who have died in a nearly fifty year period is three times the number of U.S. soldiers killed in Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq combined it seems fair to say we have a major problem on our hands.

It is difficult to not feel a bit re-traumatized when incidents like children dying after being shot by police occur.  Last year, only a few months after I began writing my blog, I wrote an entry about an organization called Parents of Murdered Children.  I first learned of the organization while living on the West Coast.  I attended a miniature workshop in which I met a man whose child had been murdered.  You can learn more about Parents of Murdered Children on their website.  I find this organization especially compelling because I have often felt it was simply dumb luck that I didn’t end up dead before I reached adulthood.  If you know someone who is a parent of a child who was murdered you might find it of benefit to know that their annual day or remembrance is coming up next month on September 25th.

I think one of the greatest tragedies that can occur is when a child loses a parent before reaching adulthood.  Parents who lose a child to something completely preventable is also a very tragic thing.  I suspect such loss can easily lead to the development of PTSD.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a number of the parents of the children who died in Newtown developed PTSD and are still wrangling with it now.  Children who were friends of the victims may also develop PTSD but are fortunate to be growing up with access to services (by virtue of the socioeconomic background of their parents) that poor and inner city youth often do not have.  

I honestly find it difficult to imagine how the pain of losing a child can ever be fully resolved and healed.  And I say this knowing and believing that the power of the human mind and positive intention is nonetheless truly amazing.  Some wounds heal easily.  Other wounds run very, very deep and require much time and tender care.  My own biological mother ceased to be an active presence in my life over three decades ago.  Despite the passage of all that time I can honestly say I still miss her.  And there are days when I still find myself wondering what my life might have been like if I had not lost her.  Who could I be today?  It's my opinion that questions that connect deeply to the events of our past are not unusual for those who have experienced severe trauma.


What we choose to do with our own suffering and loss is something we truly can choose.  I believe this is something like what Matthieu Ricard was hinting at when he said the words which appear on the primary picture on my blog: “If we transform our way of looking at things we will transform the quality of our life.”  It isn’t necessarily easy to take a new look at the world around us.  When first struck by an immense loss it can seem a complete falsehood that we have choice in how we respond to our suffering.  And yet we truly can react or we can respond.  These are very different things.  I know very well how difficult it can be to respond.  I felt very overwhelmed and reactive for much of last summer.  It took me months to move beyond a state of perpetual agitation and hyper-vigilance.

As I continue to write this blog I want to move in the direction of making it a source of inspiration and encouragement for others.  When I first began writing it was almost exclusively an outlet designed for my own short-term relief.  Like Elizabeth Wurtzel who wrote the book Prozac Nation as part of her own virtual odyssey of emergence from depression I chose to write in the hope it would support and ultimately accelerate my own healing.  And yet like many people I too struggle to find the light on especially discouraging days or in very dark situations.

When the darkness becomes so immense and feels incredibly suffocating take comfort in knowing you are not alone.  Many have ventured before you and have suffered much.  And many have nonetheless made their lives extraordinary...in time.







Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Hope Springs Eternal


Tuesday, August 26, 2014


Yesterday was my first day working two new part time jobs.  I am now working for the Abbott Northwestern Hospital Foundation.  I also am working a very short term position in the University of Minnesota Carlson School of Management.  I felt a bit mentally exhausted by the end of the day; starting the climb of the learning curve of not one but two jobs on the same day was quite demanding.  I am an intelligent person and can learn quickly.  I can confidently say that I gave it my all on Monday.

Being on the campus of the University of Minnesota among the new energy of incoming students wandering about was an exhilarating experience though.  There was a stout breeze in the air; the mugginess of the past weekend has been blown downstream of Minnesota.  And this may sound almost a bit unwise to proclaim but I will do so anyhow: I am starting to feel ready for the coming of autumn.  New seasons bring new possibilities, different holidays, different weather and different qualities of being.  I believe people living in locales that feature four relatively distinct seasons experience corresponding distinctly different qualities of being that you don’t really find in the tropics.  I have wondered what it would be like to live in a tropical place like Hawaii.  Perhaps one day I will find out.

Autumn is a time of harvesting that which has grown during the year while simultaneously beginning to slow down and look more inwardly in preparation for the coming of winter.  I have long appreciated the special magic of autumn.  It is a time like no other.

I accomplished a lot this year.  My primary priority has been my own physical, emotional and spiritual regeneration.  I am well on my way.  I still frequently feel my sadness quite intensely.  But somehow I also sense that the sadness is morphing.  It is transmuting into something else which I still cannot easily put words around to describe.  Patience is necessary during this process of transformation.  Who knows who I will become with the passage of more time.  I suppose some of the anxiety I still feel is like that which an adolescent experiences when he traverses the bridge between childhood and adulthood.  Because my own development was sidetracked at a few critical stages I feel it necessary to re-explore those times in my life now.

It’s also relevant to mention that something significant changed in my own interior life after this past weekend.  I feel I am growing more fully into my true self.  I am revealing my true self in a way I had not done earlier in my life.  It’s easy for me to feel confused (very much like a teenager might feel) quite often.  I realize that this is only natural though.  Confusion is not an uncommon part of the very human experience of transformation.

I am looking forward to this new day.  I will spend much of the day at the ANW Hospital Foundation.  I will be meeting ‘new’ people this morning.  I will leave work a little early to once again see my physician assistant regarding my shoulder.  I intend to continue moving in a positive direction.

As the sun moves further and further south in the sky and the days shorten I feel a much greater sense of peace compared to this time last year.  I long ago moved beyond the phase of crisis management (which characterized much of the second half of 2013).  I now find myself solidly in the phase of rebuilding.  I still have quite a journey ahead of me.  But I feel fortunate to be where I am now.

Hope springs eternal.


Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Crucial Value of Perspective

Monday, August 25, 2014


Some time earlier this year I discovered Michele Rosenthal.  I have yet to meet Michele in person but I must say I am very impressed and encouraged by the depth of her passion for healing.  Michele is another person walking in the world who knows the experience of trauma.  I do not know the intimate details of the trauma that impacted her.  In some sense it isn't necessary to know the full details of other people's traumatic experiences as a prerequisite to making meaningful connections with other people actively seeking their own healing.  Without knowing the finer details of Michele's life I can comfortably affirm that Michele's passion shows through in her work.

I thought to reference Michele when I read an article posted on LinkedIn.  For anyone reading this who lives under a rock LinkedIn is one of the most popular online sites for active and talented individuals looking to develop a network of like minded people.  You can find the article I am referring to here.  I especially enjoyed reading this article not only because the article is informed by her own personal experience but also because her emphasis on the importance of perspective is something I believe is very important.

Perspective is so important...to life in general.  And perspective is especially important when we are healing from trauma.  Why?  Because the perspective we carry about life can be easily damaged by trauma.  In the article Michele recounts how she "never looked at (my) healing as an exciting event."  This perspective (before deep healing has been underway for a significant period of time) doesn't strike me as atypical.  I didn't feel especially excited about the beginning of my own process of intensive healing when I began in the summer of 2013.  I effectively felt too overwhelmed, anxious, angry, bitter and frightened to feel calm enough to muster any excitement.  Feeling excited felt very risky.  Of all the consequences of trauma I think the loss of hope or even the loss of the ability or willingness to hope is one of the most unfortunate.  It's one thing to keep trying to improve your circumstances in the face of discouragement and yet still possess hope.  It's quite another when your hope dies.

Trauma, especially trauma that lasts a long time or is extremely severe (what Dr. Judith Herman of Harvard University might suggest can lead to the development of 'Complex PTSD'), can be a fundamentally isolating and extremely destructive experience for the human psyche.  Self-imposed isolation can be an adaptive response not unlike when animals hide away for some time after a devastating event such as a massive forest fire.  I think another of the most unfortunate aspects of trauma is when our capacity to maintain a healthy perspective (i.e. this too shall pass) is seriously damaged by trauma.  When we begin to expect hardship, suffering and untrustworthy people to continually predominate the fabric of our daily lives it is quite possible that trauma has left a serious mark on us.

Michele is correct to note that much of trauma healing "has to do with reframing events, perceptions and memories."  It's the negative, self-destructive ideas about self we may develop in response to trauma that often prove especially problematic.  The sum of such distorted thinking acts much like a computer program with an insidious virus embedded in it.  As long as our minds are contaminated by a repetitive pattern of negative thinking (much like a defective line of computer code causes a computer system crash) we will not be able to maintain a healthy perspective.  In other words, limited thinking is the foundation from which we may create limited circumstances that ultimately are far less than what we can ultimately create.

Having pursued as much formal education as I have I believe the following words spoken by Einstein are timely to quote:


“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”

In order to heal and create a better life for ourselves we need both knowledge and imagination.  We will do best when we have both.  But if we had to choose it would be wise to retain our imaginations and forsake whatever knowledge we possess.  I believe it's much easier to acquire knowledge than it is to cultivate imagination.  We can learn new ways to think, live and be at any age.  You can teach an old dog new tricks.  I am no expert on the development of human imagination but it is my impression that the faculty of human imagination is most responsive to conscious cultivation in the earliest years of our lives.  To rephrase in more simplistic terms: we would be wise to stimulate the imaginative abilities of children.

So why am I speaking of imagination when I first wrote of perspective?  I am speaking of imagination because it is so intimately connected to perspective.  If you cannot even imagine the possibility of holding a radically different perspective on your current life circumstances or what may be possible in the future how will you even motivate yourself to try to change your life through action?  In my experience a fruitful, productive, enjoyable life can be more easily pursued when we attempt to find a balance between action and contemplation.  We need to balance the time we do with the time that we simply are.

A pile of books offers the knowledge contained within them.  What does a box of crayons offer?  They offer to help you create whatever you can imagine creating.  Can you tell the difference?


A Mature Boy...A Not So Mature Man

Sunday, August 24, 2014


My weekend was not quite what I had been hoping it would be.  I had been hoping to spend some time with a friend and have fun.  Technology difficulties interfered with that happening.  I am trying to 'be a man' about it but sometimes I find being a mature adult very difficult.  Today is beginning in this way.  Perhaps I will feel differently later on today once I am on my bus underway back to Minneapolis.  I did at least have the pleasure of meeting some people I had never met before.

Being able to accept the inevitability of disappointments in life, both large and small, is an indicator of maturity.  Wrapping our happiness around the smallest details of our daily lives is a sure recipe for misery.  There is so little about the world that we can control.  The only thing we can really do is attempt to live lives of integrity, be kind to ourselves, be kind to others, do what we love to do and have  fun along the way.

By acknowledging how little of the world we can control I do not mean to imply that we should just lay down and succumb to circumstances that are truly unjust.  By no means would I advocate such an approach to life.  It would be very Pollyana of me to suggest we should just acquiesce to the structures in our globalized world that perpetuate suffering on a massive scale.  I believe in creating a more just world.  But a mature adult, in my opinion, will also recognize the limits of his own abilities.  Setting realistic goals and expectations is another healthy skill that characterizes a mature adult.

And yet I still feel like being a bit of a Mister Crabby Pants this morning.  I find it too easy to be aware of what I do not have sometimes.  I found myself doing this a few minutes ago shortly after disembarking from my taxi here in Madison.  I turned around and my gaze fell on what appeared to be a happy young couple preparing to leave on a bus.  My guess is that an older man and woman who were with them were most likely the parents of the young man or young woman.  The young man was strikingly handsome...even from a distance of a few hundred feet.  I found myself appreciating the smile on his face.  And I found myself wishing I was smiling as well...and for the same reasons.  I would love to have an intimate relationship.  I don't much care for being single.

It's very clear that I need to (eventually) stop mourning what did not happen in the past.  Grief cannot be a permanent companion if a person wishes to have an enjoyable, amazing life.  Long enduring grief can, in my opinion, engender any number of maladies in the human body and mind.  Here is an excellent article that explores the interrelationship between grief and physical illness that substantiates my own perspective.  As I read through the article I could see my own life journey writ large.  I thankfully did not need much time after the initial collapse of my life in the summer of 2013 to understand what was happening to me.  I became physically ill for many weeks last summer as a result of visiting my biological mother in Germany in May, 2013.  Seeing and experiencing the fullness of the person she now is was a difficult experience.  I wouldn't be overstating it to say it was even a 'bit' excruciating.  I thankfully also found joy in the experience.

Sometimes I feel I ought to be done with my grief now.  I'd like to have a clean, sharp end to my grief.  But as the article I referenced above makes very clear grief 'there is no set timetable for grief to run its course, and there is no statute of limitations.'  Of all the potential varieties of dis-ease that can plague a human being I believe it accurate to say that grief is one of the most stubborn.  If you do not deal with your grief your grief will find a way to deal with you.  Grief, as noted in the article, can manifest in numerous ways including headaches, backaches, depression, anxiety and chronic gastrointestinal problems.  Do all these symptoms automatically indicate that unresolved grief is present?  No.  But it is wise for health care practitioners to consider the very real possibility that unresolved grief may be a factor contributing to the distressed people who present for care.

The article offers a number of means by which grief may be successfully resolved.  Therapeutic treatment modalities listed in the article appear below.  I offer my own thoughts based on my experience of each of them:


Medication - I am not a big fan of a strictly pharmaceutical approach.  Some medications can produce mildly irritating or genuinely harmful side effects.  The possibility of addiction to painkillers is another very real possibility to weigh when considering this option.  I personally never thought my personality was very much like an 'addictive personality'.  Then last summer I was prescribed atavan to use as needed in the event I had spikes in anxiety or panic attacks.  I realized shortly after taking atavan only a few times that the feeling I had after the drug took effect was very enjoyable.  In fact, I sensed I could become addicted to them if I wasn't mindful in how I used them.  I can thankfully report I did not develop an addiction to them.


Patience, kindness, love and understanding - Of all the elements necessary to a successful recovery (and a successful life) this is the one I was most deprived of as a kid.  I lived in an environment in which I was expected to tolerate the poor parenting choices of my father and stepmother(s) and yet somehow not develop serious issues of trust and anxiety.  In short, I was terrified or anxious so much of my childhood that it was only natural that I would eventually develop issues with my health years later.

I try to give myself all the patience, love and understanding I did not receive from my own family of origin as a kid.  In a sense, with the help of my therapist, friends and those who have suffered and overcome long before I came into the world I am learning how to give to myself what I did not receive in sufficient measure during my early development.  It has not been an easy task.  Indeed, it feels incredibly arduous at times even now.  But thankfully I am much better now.


Psychotherapy - I wouldn't be where I am today without the immense help of the therapist I have been seeing these last fourteen months.  So I suppose this will turn into a bit of a testimonial about him.  My therapist is Jeffry Jeanetta-Wark, LICSW.  Jeffry operates a private practice in Roseville, Minnesota.  He works with a diverse clientele and also offers skills particular to the needs of men and their own development.  I feel fortunate to have discovered him.  You can find his website here.


Bodywork - Unresolved grief may manifest as physical symptoms.  I know that I have a tendency to internalize difficult feelings.  I learned this technique very well under the influence of my biological father.  The physical therapy and exercise regimen I have pursued this last year has been an important part of my journey to greater health.


Dream exploration - While a student of Naropa University I explored the powerful psychic world of dreams.  Persistent nightmares can be another indicator of severe distress or even diagnosable illness.  The content of dreams can, when done in a conscious, informed way, be interpreted metaphorically to represent the challenges and conflicts as well as hopes and dreams of an individual.  I have learned a lot from tracking my dreams over the years.  And I have come to believe that most all of us have at least some degree of ability to have pre-cognitive dreams.


Alternative medicine - While Western medicine has certainly served to support my health throughout my life I do believe it has some significant limitations.  I have tried to keep an open mind regarding my health.  Doing so has led me to try a variety of other treatment modalities that are often lumped under the term 'alternative medicine'.  Alternative medicine may include practices such as aromatherapy, acupuncture, massage therapy as well as equine therapy and therapeutic horticulture.  It's long been my belief that a vast, vast majority of people can heal themselves if they will really commit to the journey.


Creative arts - My blog has served as a major creative outlet for me these last fourteen months.  I now find it difficult to imagine who I would be if I didn't write each day.  I also find it difficult to imagine the person I would have become had I not been actively writing these last fourteen months.  If you are a newcomer to my blog and are just now venturing forth to reclaim your own life you may feel skepticism that you can do it.  Rest assured I had the same skepticism.  I wondered if I could really be so disciplined and write essentially every day.  Now I think back on that time and laugh a little bit at the self-doubt I allowed myself to entertain a little too much.



I have noted frequently throughout my blog how recovery is a process.  It takes time.  And being patient is something mature adults can be and generally are.  I just wish I had more patience than I already have.  It is clear that one of my biggest challenges remains cultivating a spirit of loving-kindness...for myself.

I have a friend who lives in Ohio.  On Facebook he occasionally uses the hashtag #unrepentantmanchild.  I laughed when I first saw it.  The term very much describes me.  I am also something of a man-child.  I am part boy and part man and continually striving to become a healthier and happier person.



Saturday, August 23, 2014

Some Disassembly Required

Saturday, August 23, 2014


I think three of the most dreaded words for people new to the experience of parenting (who also are not very mechanically inclined) must be "Some Assembly Required".  I found myself reflecting on those words because it seems what I have been doing the last year could be described as the opposite of that: Some DisAssembly Required.

It's an overcast humid morning here in Madison, Wisconsin...and I am having some flashbacks to the summer I lived in Shreveport, Louisiana.  I lived there for a summer to work for the National Weather Service during my breaks from my undergraduate studies.  You may wonder why I am talking about Louisiana while I visit Madison, Wisconsin.  Let's just say the hotel I am staying in this weekend reminds me a bit of the single room occupancy hotel I lived in that summer in Shreveport.  The hotel I am staying in is cleaner than the place I called home many years ago.  And yet somehow something about my accommodation is reminding me of that time in my life.  And I have been simply remembering the fact that I was carrying around a lot of sadness within me that summer.  I have carried far too much sadness around in my life.

Some disassembly required!  In this last year I have been appreciating how it takes some time to disassemble the unhealthy habits and ways of thinking that have marked too much of my life.  It's my (fairly informed) conclusion that you don't heal deep trauma in a short period of time.  And I believe it is true what physician Lenore Terr concluded about what typically happens when trauma that occurs in childhood goes untreated.  The longer you wait to get treatment the more arduous the healing process is often going to be.  Lenore Terr is a child psychiatrist known for her work specifically focused on trauma.  Click here for an excellent video of Terr speaking about PTSD and the trajectory of lives marked by it.

I wish I had been more proactive earlier in my life regarding my health.  In my own mind I thought I was being sufficiently proactive.  I have been physically active for much of my life.  I also have wanted to believe I am a fairly mindful person.  And I actually am.  But the trauma induced sadness I carried around with me was never truly exorcised.  And so now I have the task of doing it now.

It is also clear to me that I cannot keep reliving the past, blaming myself for not doing better than I did and so on.  Eventually, as I noted just yesterday, the darkness must recede and new life will come.  Not only will new life come but it must come otherwise we can find ourselves in a terrible limbo in which we live only in the past and future and never really in the present.

My grief can well up especially deeply and nearly feel overwhelming at times.  One particular milieu in which I notice this happen not infrequently is when I attend events in which I am surrounded by a large number of gay men.  I came to Madison this weekend for the 2015 Mr. Wisconsin Leather contest.  I could feel my grief inside me last night while socializing in a crowd of men who had traveled from places near and not so near to be here this weekend.  Gay culture can be exceedingly harsh and unforgiving when it comes to the attitudes about body image and self-worth that are incessantly directed at us by those attempting to market any number of products and services.  We may have achieved some sort of (beginning of) gay liberation with Stonewall back near the year 1970 but I think we still have a lot of work to do when it comes to how we treat one another.

Sitting and acknowledging the sadness that will inevitably mark all of our lives (like when we lose people we deeply treasure) at one time or another is not an easy activity.  But to be an authentic, whole, healthy person it is something that we must be willing to do...or at least try.

I am excited by the possibilities opening up to me in my future life.  I only wish I could sit with my own sadness more easily.  It is not a task for the faint of heart.

Courage and steadfastness are amazing qualities to possess.  How do courage and steadfastness inform your own life journey?





Friday, August 22, 2014

How Do You Leave A Dark Life Behind?

Friday, August 22, 2014


Sometimes I chuckle when I think back to the time when I first began writing my blog.  I recall wondering if I could come up with anything (all that interesting) to write about on a daily basis.  I admit there are still some days when I struggle to conceive of a topic to focus my attention upon.  Nonetheless I find myself sufficiently inspired much of the time such that writing is only infrequently a real struggle.

I attended a class at the South Minneapolis Workforce Center focused on developing the knowledge and skills to start your own business.  The presenter was Bob Voss.  I was inspired by the depth of knowledge he appears to possess.  And I only sat in his class for a little over an hour.  Reaching out for support to manifest your dreams is so vital.  And this holds true regardless of whether your current life is already full of many resources, friends and related blessings or deeply devoid of these things.  Voss's comment about something termed Lone Wolf Syndrome got me to thinking about the vital puzzle piece that reaching out (aka networking) plays in the quality of our lives.

I have taken a number of aptitude and personality tests in my life.  I have often tended to fall in the realm of introversion rather than extroversion.  Though I have become more extroverted over time I attribute this more to the fact that I am emerging from the harm done to my way of viewing of the world (as a result of the early history of trauma I experienced) rather than necessarily a fundamental change in who I am.  In my core I am more energetic, outgoing and zany than I often allowed myself to reveal to the world.

My experience of trauma left me literally altered in how I perceived the world.  The powerful transformation I have undergone these last fourteen months (made possible in part by the application of therapeutic techniques such as EMDR) is testament to the reality of how deeply my experience of trauma had affected me.  I have told my therapist more than once (as well as some friends) that I have felt as if I am awakening from a bad dream that went on for about thirty years.

Because I developed serious trust issues it became easier to shut down and hide within myself.  This pattern of behavior can be misconstrued as an indication of an introverted personality.  I do think I am technically an introvert but my introversion is counterbalanced by some serious fire energy in my astrology chart.  (If you are just now following me in my blog it is relevant to know that astrology is one of my hobbies.)  Anyone with some basic knowledge of astrology would expect someone with a Leo rising sign and Aries moon (as I have) to have serious potential to do well in more extroverted professions such as the performing arts.

It's my sentiment that deeply traumatized people might manifest behaviors that could prompt others to think of them as 'lone wolves'.  When we are deeply hurt, disappointed or fearful it's only natural for us to feel a strong urge to withdraw.  In some ways I think this urge is an instinctual one.  It is a survival instinct.  After being traumatized people may withdraw from many aspects of their lives in a way similar to what countless animals in a forest may do when a powerful storm threatens their habitat.  During and immediately after the time of a trauma it is thus only natural that a person go into hiding.
It's when this adaptive pattern of hiding away becomes a permanent feature of a person's way of living that such behavior should become concerning to others.

If you are reading this and are undergoing a journey of healing from trauma I welcome you to ask yourself the following questions.  Consider it an inventory of your current support system.


  • Do you feel that you can ultimately resolve the challenges of your life if you find sufficient help?  If not, why not?
  • Do you feel lonely?  If so are you aware of local resources that would help you to address this issue?  You may be pleasantly surprised to discover that there are resources in your own community to help you deal with what may seem insoluble issues.
  • How many friends do you have that know you so well that you feel you can share anything with them?
  • Do you have current contact information for your local network of healthcare providers such as hospital  ERs, primary care doctors and toll free crisis support services?
  • If you are currently living through a period in which you have withdrawn from much of the world are you paying close attention to how that has changed your life?  Has your life improved, remained the same or deteriorated?


Even the most introverted of human beings are nonetheless social creatures.  If you want to create a better life for yourself but do not know how to do so consider reaching out to a trusted friend for guidance.  You may ultimately be surprised by how much is out there and available for you.


I will close my posting today by mentioning a bit about how I personally am doing:

I am excited to be going away for a weekend in Madison, Wisconsin.  I'm looking forward to making new friends.

My sadness and grief are still very much with me.  But they intermingle with a growing sense of excitement that the changes I made a year ago are changes I will remain committed to keeping in place. I do feel immensely sad that my family of origin can not or will not provide me the type of support I specifically need.  It is not an easy choice when you choose to walk away from your own blood relatives.  Maybe this will change one day.  But maybe it won't.  What is also clear to me is I must learn to move on and release the harm that impacted my earlier life.

I still marvel at the beauty of the world around me.  The change in my eyesight which I attribute to the combination of therapies I underwent this last year is something I am still adjusting to.  I wasn't really fully present to my life for so very long.  Living in a fundamentally different way is not something you adjust to overnight.

And yet the dawn must inevitably come.  Darkness will pass.  Consider this clip from the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy.  We can overcome the darkness in our psyches.  We can transmute our pain and create a new life for ourselves.

A new day will come!


"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" - Mary Oliver






Thursday, August 21, 2014

Peter Pan Syndrome

Thursday, August 21, 2014


Yesterday I referenced the fact that my birthday is coming up.  Throughout this last year I have been hyper-aware of the fact that I am now in my forties.

And yet though my chronological age marks me as a 'forty-something' the mind and perspective I carry about with me each day is decidedly influenced by a number of developmental stages from my own life history prior to the time I legally became an adult in which my needs were never sufficiently met.  There are, unfortunately, a number of periods of time from my childhood in which I felt my needs were not fully met.

Some days I feel like having a level of responsibility typically attributed to a one year old.  Other days I am acutely aware of how much pain and alienation I was feeling in the summer of 1982 shortly before my ninth birthday.  If you have been following my blog with any regularity you will know this to be true.  I have written several times about pondering how little I can recall from the summer when I was a mere eight years old.  Still other days I think back on my life as a teenager and how I didn't feel my development needs as an adolescent were being very well met (mostly due to the fact that my father and second stepmother's attention were being acutely focused on my newly born half-brother).  I was thirteen at the time he was born.  Thus much of my adolescence coincided with the earliest years of my brother's life.  Infants and toddlers are naturally essentially completely dependent on their parents or other caregivers for their very survival.  It was only natural that my father and stepmother would pay so much attention to my brother.  It was necessary for his own healthy development.  Meanwhile I felt lost in the shadows.  Being lost in a shadowy world of pain and dissociation is never a good experience for someone and especially not for a teenager.

I gradually came to carry around more and more resentment as the years of my adolescence came and went.  My pain compounded into a form of silent anguish as I continued to feel insufficiently attended to.  I think silent agony is the worst kind of agony you can experience.  And yet I am convinced there are many people out there walking around in the world who suffer silent agony.  The smiles on their faces hide the anguish within.  Smiling and dark humor eventually become some form of adaptation to manage your life in a world that is all too often dark, depressing and nerve-wracking.  It's my strong intuition that the comedian and actor Robin Williams used some humor as a way of living (and coping) with his own inner tumult.  I see something of myself in the man.  And it's thus no wonder his death left me feeling genuinely bereaved...at least for a short spell of time.

My awareness of chronological age, developmental age, missed opportunities, grief, regret and the like was sharpened in the last few days after I read an article on Facebook regarding a young gay man's blog post that apparently has been circulating through the online world.  You can find more here.


I think it's only natural that people like to associate with and befriend others who share similar characteristics such as age, socioeconomic status, ethnicity and sexual orientation.  The shadow side of such preference arises when we become so locked into surrounding ourselves with those like ourselves (or at least those we perceive to be like ourselves) that we become clannish, unwelcoming, abrasive, abusive and worse.  When communities, nations and the entire world become deeply invested in polarities based on some type of identity the outcomes of such polarization can be most unfortunate.  Current events that reflect this sad reality are unfolding in Ferguson, Missouri, Iraq and the Ukraine.

As for the LGBT world I would like to find and help create a world that is inclusive and welcoming of all types of people.



Wednesday, August 20, 2014

When I Was Nine Years Old

Wednesday, August 20, 2014


My birthday is coming up.  My life is much different and much better than it was a year ago.  Indeed, I sometimes find myself marveling at how much has changed.  And then other times, sometimes even in the same day or same hour, I find myself marveling at how much has not changed. 

In trying to address the abuse I experienced as a kid my paternal family of origin has consistently remained true to form.  By that I mean they have consistently either avoided engaging me in an authentic conversation regarding the issues of chaos, domestic violence and deceit I was subject to or, when they have supposedly listened, I have received a response that runs something like 'I don't know what to say.'  And so many times when I have previously received this weak answer I have wanted to scream in reply 'Then learn!'  But intellectual curiosity has never been a strength of my father's family.  It's so very sad.

During my most recent months in therapy I find myself waffling between two distinct time periods from my early years of life.  Sometimes I want to focus on my earliest years when I was the size of a toddler. And other times I zero in on the time between June, 1982 and December, 1983.  I find myself aware of the fact that I sometimes wish I could be nine years old all over again but this time around actually experience the attentive nurturing and stability I didn't find myself experiencing when I was chronologically nine years old.  It is difficult for me to motivate myself on some days.  Some days I want to have a level of responsibility commensurate to being nine years old...namely very little responsibility.

The task before me now is the same task I have been working on the last fourteen months.  My overarching goal is to overcome the harm done to me when I was a kid.  This is no small task.  It is taking a lot of time.  Somewhere along the way in the last fourteen months I have learned to relax into the process and just accept the fact that my healing process cannot be easily defined or forced to fully occur in a set amount of time.  The journey of healing is something like an art.  Art requires time, creativity, patience and openness.  I can always walk away from the process of personal therapy but I'm too invested in it to walk away now.  I am also too curious.  I am curious to see who I can become if I remain loyal to continuing my deep process of personal inquiry.

As the time of autumn approaches I feel the need to assess what progress I have made, make realistic plans for what I can still complete while it still is relatively easy to move about outdoors and, in the spirit of the season of shedding, begin the process of looking more and more inward as a means of preparing for the coming winter.  Last winter I was very busy with the process of healing...and enduring the worst winter to consume Minnesota in three decades.  I believe the coming cold season will be much, much different.

I am going to have a very different life in the future.  This is the promise I have made to myself.


Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Softening the Rough Edges

Tuesday, August 19, 2014



The fleeting days of summer’s inevitable ending are now upon us here in Minnesota.  The days are still warm but the night doesn’t recede very easily to dawn’s light.  You can sense that autumn is approaching.

My new professional life is now quickly coming together into a new form.  I will be starting my new position at the Abbott Northwestern Hospital Foundation this coming Monday.  It also appears I will be working part time for the University of Minnesota Carlson School of Management…at least on a part-time temporary basis.  I am still not doing what I ultimately want to do but at least I am taking steps in the right direction.  I frequently remind myself that patience is a virtue.  I am still a work in progress regarding that important quality.

I have chosen to seek out some additional physical therapy for my left shoulder.  It seems that my personal training session yesterday morning may have aggravated the condition of my shoulder.  I’ll also be checking in with my primary care doctor in two weeks.  I find my unexpected bouts of excessive sweating a bit annoying to say the least.  They also can leave me feeling a bit socially awkward if they happen while I am in a setting that requires some amount of poise and grace.

My sadness still is with me.  But like the gentle action of the water of a stream smoothing away the rough edges of rocks in its bed I feel my own sadness softening over time.  I continue to feel better and better.  I can honestly say that I truly believe I will one day no longer feel encumbered by the horrific events of my earliest years of life.  The steadfast loyalty of friendship is helping me make my way.  The extensive support network I have painstakingly created in the last year has also been instrumental.  And then there is the inevitable passage of time.  Some people would say that time heals all wounds.  I am not sure that I am convinced of that.  But I am convinced that a life marked by significant, conscious and consistent practices of self-care can be a good quality life.  Deep wounds can eventually heal.


Monday, August 18, 2014

Unrest


Monday, August 18, 2014


I feel very agitated this morning.  I attribute it to a number of factors. 

To begin with, I made the unfortunate choice of attempting to engage in some form of dialogue with a Facebook friend I had never met in person.  This individual apparently thinks that Rush Limbaugh is a credible source of accurate, non-biased information.  People who believe Rush Limbaugh has integrity sufficient to entrust him with a radio show that can influence the thinking of millions of people genuinely concern me.  On some days the fact that the man actually has a portion of the airwaves in this country genuinely disturbs me.

I am also very upset by what continues to unfold in Ferguson, Missouri.  I think you would have to have been living under a rock for the last eight days to not have heard what is happening there.  My understanding is that an additional autopsy performed with the assistance of the federal government revealed the teenager Michael Brown (whose death has provoked protest, looting and a request for assistance from the National Guard) was shot at least six times.  Answer me this: What could possibly justify shooting an unarmed teenager at least six times?  To my knowledge Brown did nothing to give police the impression that six bullets (at least!) was justified.  I’ve been asking myself these very troubling broader questions this morning: Am I now living in a police state?  Has my country gone off the deep end into fascism? 

How do you heal from an early life history filled with prodigious amounts of trauma when the very long term stability of your own country seems to be on the brink?  How do you live in a country where people actually believe people like Rush Limbaugh are invested in telling you anything that remotely resembles the truth?  How can I retain any sense of optimism and willingness to participate in a society in which there are such endemic issues of violence?  It’s no wonder it seems to be in my long term interests to move elsewhere eventually.  At least that is what fills my thinking on occasion.

I had a dream last night that also was a bit…disconcerting.  I had a dream in which my friend Jason (who is currently a local leather community titleholder) was having a conversation with me.  I cannot recall the full details of the interchange in the dream.  What I do remember is coming to this realization that I had participated in the very same contest (apparently yet again) and yet somehow, after the event itself, I could not remember anything of the weekend of the contest.  Somehow my memory was a blank.  Somehow I could not remember something that should be so…memorable.

And thus I find myself winding my way back to a theme that I have written about fairly extensively in my blog.   It still upsets me just how little of my early life history I can recall.  I still find it so extremely sad that much of the time from June, 1982 to December, 1983 is essentially a blank in my mind.  I want to learn how to be present to my life now and enjoy the gifts I have in my life NOW.  I want to live in the moment and no longer feel the burden of the legacy of my earliest life history.  I want to climb out of the sadness.  The sadness has been with me such a very long time now.

But then I come back to these other deeper questions.  How much can I truly heal when I live in a society like the United (Police) States of America?