The Power of Pluto Unleashed

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

I first began to study the field of astrology thirteen years ago.  It was near the time of September 11, 2001.  I suppose it was easy to cultivate occult interests as many people sought out their own ways to explain the events of that day.  I was living in California at the time.  My associations of California are such that if you live in the state for a long period and never do yoga, consult an astrologer, drink a glass of wine in Sonoma, see the fogbanks of the San Francisco Bay Area or attend a personal growth workshop you haven't truly sampled all there is to experience in California.  Indeed, you could live an entire (long) lifetime and never experience all that California has to offer.  It's too bad that the state is currently experiencing a drought so extraordinary that it apparently has not been so dry since the time Columbus came to the Americas.  Yes, you read that right.  Columbus!


It was easy to find astrologers and people fascinated with the subject of astrology while I lived in California.  When I first began my self-study I suppose you could say I was as skeptical as the average person in regards to its validity as a 'science'.  As the years passed and I followed it in my own way I lost that skepticism.  I believe, however, that skepticism is healthy when first plunging into something so new and unfamiliar.  The unexamined embrace of the unknown, while likely to make for an 'interesting' time, can easily lead to unintended consequences we only later realize we never wanted to experience!

As I began to develop a breadth of knowledge regarding the basic principles of astrology I familiarized myself with my own natal chart.  It was many years ago when I first took note of the Plutonian transit I am in now.  At the time I marveled at the intensity implied in the potential inherent to when Pluto squares your natal Moon.  Now in the last year I have been living through it.  And it will go on for another two years or so.

Robert Hand is a well respected astrologer.  I have consulted his wisdom on numerous occasions. In one of his seminal books he describes my current Pluto-Moon transit in the following way (I have highlighted those remarks that precisely describe what has been happening):

This influence produces very intense experiences in your emotional and personal life, and it will test your innermost psychological workings. You may be forced to dig down deeper inside yourself than you have ever done before to get the answers you need at this time. (Yes!)

On the psychological level, this influence dredges up past behavior patterns that may be quite inadequate for the present. Or it may bring up memories from the past that somehow affect the present. Driven by compulsions and irrational drives, you may do things that you would not do if you were entirely clear about yourself. Deep psychological changes are taking place that should not be ignored or swept under the rug. Instead, you should understand them.


In your personal life, this influence can bring an emotional power struggle with someone. Such a struggle can be quite destructive, because the tactics are very subversive, perhaps including manipulation of guilt, jealousy or sense of duty. You will not attempt to wield power directly and nakedly, which your opponent could fight easily. It takes extremely clear perception to see exactly what is happening.

This influence also may signify a relationship in which you feel fascinated by the other person, even though you feel that the relationship is bad for you. You seem unable to get away. Actually you are experiencing a repressed aspect of yourself through the other person.

In your domestic life there may be significant changes, which are external reflections of your inner change. Your most intimate life is the most perfect manifestation of your inner psyche and is therefore most affected. You may find that considerable tension builds up between you and those closest to you, and there may be some very emotional confrontations. You may also change your residence or make significant changes in your present one, and these will reflect changes within you.

Have you happened to notice how I highlighted so much of the content?  Yes, indeed, the description of this transit very accurately describes my life at this time.  And because Pluto moves so slowly Plutonian transits bespeak long term processes that leave a person profoundly changed when they emerge on the other side.  I am going through such a change now.

When Profound Change Reflects in Your Sleeping Dreams

Tuesday, February 4, 2014


While studying under the guidance of Dr. Pamela Colorado at Naropa University I was introduced to deeper study in the fascinating realm of dreams.  I have no doubt that whole classes focused specifically on the human experience of the dream realm are offered at diverse schools throughout this country as well as abroad.  I am by no means a dream expert but I do believe I have followed my own dream life long enough and have participated frequently enough in dream circles to have developed some timely wisdom that would interest others.  I was reminded of the power of dreams by one I had this past week.

I remember little of the details of the dream.  I only really can remember the primary event from it.  I was giving some sort of a presentation to people.  Some of the individuals remained interested and participated.  Others walked away.  But what was most important, in my opinion, was what I did as some people walked away.  I remained steadfast.  I did not deviate from standing firm in presenting.  I was true to myself regardless of what others were doing.

Dreaming such a scenario leaves me feeling that I have indeed made huge progress.  I will not be swayed from my course of being loyal to my own calling even if others cannot appreciate me for who I am and what I offer.  This is indeed huge!  I have had dreams previously in which I was giving some sort of presentation but never previously did I dream others walking away and it not deterring me in the slightest.

One of the greatest challenges of emerging from a worldview influenced by the impact of trauma is learning how to see the world anew in a clear way without the negative thinking that can become so common when you find yourself unable to heal from trauma.  I am still learning what it feels like to live in such a way.  It may take many, many more months or even years to reach this new state of being and feel completely comfortable with it.  I really do not know what to expect.  Though there are often signposts on the journey to healing that can be reasonably expected to appear among those making the journey there are nonetheless also the unique factors and circumstances that will make every journey different.

I learned yesterday that my unemployment benefits are expiring sooner than I had originally understood they would.  So now I need to refocus my attention on my job search.  At some point later this month I am going to take a brief pause from blog writing.  For those of you my loyal blog followers consider it something of a mini-staycation.  I have every confidence the font of my creativity will remain full and I will return to this writing journey feeling refreshed.  I expect I will take no more than five to seven days away from my writing.


In other news it is still winter.  The world outside is full of stillness.  But I can sense that growing yearning for the bursting forth of spring when I encounter other people.  This has been a long season of cold.

What Next? An Adjusted Focus to my Blog is Approaching

Monday, February 3, 2014


So the question of the moment is "What Next?"  That was the overarching question of my therapy appointment today.  I am no longer clinical for PTSD...but there are still some criteria that I do meet.  It's clear to me that more work awaits me.  Thankfully my hard edge has dissolved; I feel I can be completely myself in the presence of my therapist.  Living a life in which we cannot be completely ourselves is a sure prescription for frustration and pain.

The deeper work I wish to do is partially of a cultural nature.  Some of my pain and sense of alienation are a very predictable result of being the child of two parents from different cultures.  Despite the fact that Germans settled the United States throughout its history they, like many people, became assimilated into the predominant culture.  Though my mother and father are both of Germanic origin the differences that grew between my two family lines in the 140 years my father's family has lived in America are not insignificant.

My friend Jason Little shared my blog web address on one of his Facebook pages today.  That was gratifying!  I first met Jason last year after I began more seriously exploring the leather community here in the Twin Cities.  That's right, you read correctly!  Leather!  As I continue to explore my mother's culture of origin and the phenomenon of leather (which I have long associated with Germany) I feel I will be honoring myself and my ancestry.

Just like the adventure of my recovery, this new adventure will take me in directions I cannot clearly see at this moment.  That is part of life.  Whether we know it or not the future is a capital U Unknown whose contours often don't reveal themselves as we had predicted, hoped, dreamed or feared they would.

Uncertainty is something we humans can handle in certain doses.  Once the uncertainty reaches some level, however, many of us seem likely to shrink back and grasp for that which we know that is comfortable and reassuring.  I sense this is only typical human behavior.

...

I welcome new and not so new followers of my blog to consider the following questions and answer them if you so choose:

* What has been the most helpful aspect of my blog?
* Do you feel this blog has enhanced your capacity to understand the nature of PTSD and the healing process specific to it?
* Do you have any friends you would consider referring to this blog as a source of information or inspiration?
* If you yourself have PTSD or have friends who have it what healing techniques have you seen prove effective?
* Feel free to share from your own experience.

Thanks for your consideration!

More to come soon!

Midwinter

Sunday, February 2, 2014


This unusually cold winter is starting to wear a bit thin.  The saving grace of this time of year is the gradually lengthening days.  As I made my way home today the sun lingered in the western sky at 5 p.m.; it's an omen of what is to come.  I find it difficult to hibernate too much because I feel so alive and energetic.

I did some of my usual activities today.  I went to the Sunday service at my MCC congregation, had brunch with a friend and then got in plenty of exercise at the Y.  It was a standard Sunday.  Now that I am essentially done with physical therapy I am beginning to see a welcome return to something in my calendar...namely time for something besides repairing my health!  It seemed to be such a lengthy process.

I upgraded the appearance of my blog yesterday and have promoted my renovation to some friends.  I intend to continue to improve the presentation of my page.  It's been such a pleasure to write regularly and see this font of creativity within me continuing to flow forth.

Imbolc: A Time of Rebirth

Saturday, February 1, 2014


I remember that I was not a typical child.  I had deep artistic and intuitive sensitivities.  I found listening to the wind blowing through the trees to be a virtually mystical experience.  I could sense the quality of health within people...or lack thereof.  It is no wonder I have followed a personal and professional path that has featured the arts, music, photography and writing.

During the period of 2003 to 2006 I was a student of Pamela Colorado.  Dr. Colorado created the Worldwide Indigenous Science Network as a focal point for efforts to celebrate and preserve the wisdom of indigenous cultures and their associated knowledge and life-ways.  Meeting her profoundly affected the course of my life.  During the masters degree program I undertook under her guidance I explored my paternal family heritage.  I made a trip to the Netherlands in October, 2004 to learn more about the origins of my family.  It was a profoundly illuminating and amazing time.  I can still remember the beautiful birch trees I encountered one evening outside of the small village of Ootmarsum where my family originally lived before coming to the United States in 1872.

I am thinking of the birch tree today because this tree is associated with the Celtic goddess Brigid and the particular occasion known as Imbolc, which occurs today.  Imbolc is, in a sense, a midwinter festival that acknowledges the rebirth that will shortly be upon us when the season of spring begins in earnest.  My visit to the Netherlands included a wonderful experience of the birch tree.  I wish to honor this day of Imbolc by recounting the power of the birch tree with a journal entry I made in October, 2004.  Some of the content has been removed to protect my identity and family name.  It appears below:

Sunday, October 10, 2004

Moon in Leo, Mars and Jupiter conjunct at 5 degrees Libra

Tonight I am some thirty kilometers west of where I began this morning.  I am in the municipality of Wierden, but several kilometers outside of the town center.  I am spending this evening at a bed and breakfast called Heide Hoeve.  It is a beautiful farm and quite remote, at least according to my own past experiences in this life.

This evening, as the sun was setting, I went for a walk (longer than expected!) down a footpath.  This was in some sense the first day I really was in my indigenous mind.  Though Ootmarsum and Groot Agelo were important sites for my great-grandfather Barney, his father Gradus and previous generations had more of a connection here, on this land where I am tonight.  I hope to be blessed with good, enjoyable dreams this night.  It is only shortly after 7 p.m. tonight as I write, but already I feel like retiring.  Perhaps I am getting into a more ancient mode of setting my sleep cycle by the sun cycle?  It seems that is happening.

As I walked this evening, I prayed to my ancestors for help with everything!  I prayed for help relating to my father, stepmother, other family in America, with Apela and my other professors, with the other students in the Indigenous Mind program, with financial abundance...with my colonization paper, I mean with everything!  For I certainly feel much of the time, even if it isn’t true, that I do need much help in my life!

As I walked down this footpath I marveled at how I was finally back “home” in my true indigenous habitat.  Everything, the sun, plants, trees, cows, water, grass was this beautiful panoply and I felt completely at one with it all.  The scenery was beautiful.  And I seem to have happened upon my sacred tree.  Is it an elm?  I am not sure!

I must confess I had my doubts about coming here when I had first arrived about 4 p.m.  The town of Wierden was so empty of people on the streets it almost felt eerie to me.  But it is a Sunday, and in this part of the world people really still take time to live and do absolutely nothing productive it would seem.  Hooray for that!  Enough of capitalism gone insane in America where people work 50 or 60 hours a week.  That is crazy!

Now that I am really out on the land I feel my indigenous mind returning to me.  But I feel as if I have just set my toes into this well of remembrance.  The plunge happens over time, it seems.  But hopefully I have plenty of time as of yet.  There is much I wish to accomplish!  And I am still a young, virile 31!

I hope my coming here somehow can bring healing to the family in America which, in my humble opinion, has become deeply neurotic in many ways.  Some healing needs to happen in this family line.

Tomorrow I plan on traveling to the Gemeente Wierden to look at documentation concerning my ancestry.  There are many people of the same last name in the phone book in Enter, so I no doubt am going to have quite an adventure here!  I hope to accomplish much in the remaining seventeen days I have here.  And I pray also that I may have a safe and propitious return trip to this place, the Netherlands, in December when I come back once again from America. (Note: my return trip did not ultimately happen)

  

And all ye ancestors who came before him, please hear my prayers, the prayers I have lifted up this evening under such a beautiful sunset sky.  Help me to step aside so that these dreams might all and quickly come to fruition.  I offer this prayer in loving thanks for this opportunity to come home!

....

Approximately two years ago I experienced another profound period of change.  It happened at the time of Imbolc in 2012.  I can still vividly recall a particular day when I looked at my altar at home and unexpectedly noticed a fascinating sight.  The sunlight falling through my bedroom window was illuminating three of my four grandparents in a photo I have long placed on my altar.  Seeing my one grandfather in shadow (the one of Dutch origin) while my three (predominantly) German grandparents were illuminated left me with a strong intuition that I would soon somehow have the opportunity to travel to Germany and somehow explore another sign of my family heritage.  How this would come to be I could not know at the time.  My very first sense of this coming to be in the near future came in the previous year in 2011 when I unexpectedly read about the history of the Nazi legacy in Germany on the Hawaiian island of Maui (of all places) in May, 2011.  These events and many others throughout my life have convinced me that the world is filled with much magic and phenomenon we cannot necessarily easily explain in ordinary space-time.

My opportunity to travel to Germany came a short time later in 2012.  I was awarded a fellowship through the American Council on Germany.  Nearly a year to the day after I received notice of the award I flew to Europe.  Only a few weeks after my return on June 1st of last year came my unexpected PTSD diagnosis.  And then a new phase of my journey began.  And now here I am still seven months later feeling better than I ever have.  The paths our lives take can be so seemingly strange and unknowable.  I would never have guessed I would be where I am at now nor feeling drawn in the directions I feel pulled in the future.

Rebirth is no small thing.  The process of moving forward from such a tremendous moment in time is also no small thing.  Theses are Herculean matters of identity and life purpose I have been grappling with these last many months.  And now that I am finally sub-clinical for PTSD I feel I can begin to take a big sigh of relief.  I can get on with the business of living rather than coping and reacting.

Later today I am going to honor the time of Imbolc in my own special way by visiting the line of birch trees downtown near the downtown branch of the library.  I feel grateful to be alive.

The Roller Coaster of Recovery

Saturday, February 1, 2014


Yay, I have made it to February in one of the coldest winters in recent memory!  Praise the power of Vitamin D!  Praise the power of phototherapy boxes.  And praise the power of steely determination to recover!

Yesterday evening I went to a fundraiser at the Gay 90s bar in downtown Minneapolis.  It was thrown to raise money for the Aliveness Project.  The Aliveness Project does great work in support of the local community of people who are HIV positive.  I myself have benefited tremendously from the organization's generosity as I continue to walk the road of recovery; my friend Keith has invited me as his guest on innumerable occasions to share a meal with him there.  Having the task of healthy eating managed in this way has made it so much easier for me to focus on the many other aspects of my life these last several months.

Last night was both fun and difficult.  I have these moments and I expect I will continue to have them for some time to come.  The event featured a number of guys who did a little number on a small stage to raise money from the audience.  One of the guys is someone I have seen around the community but not really talked with...yet.  His is the type of beauty that can stop a person in his tracks.  He is that gorgeous.

When I see men of such beauty two very different things happen inside me.  I feel immense admiration and often some attraction.  And I also feel some grief and pain.  There is a saying that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder'.  I've also heard it said it is also in the mind of the beheld.  To be able to acknowledge and appreciate such beauty outside of oneself is to somehow have that beauty inside yourself as well.  I believe this is true.  I know I am an attractive man.  My grief wells up within me when I realize that I didn't always appreciate this about myself.  And so then I find myself again feeling the burdensome feeling of feeling that I missed out...that I didn't know just how beautiful I am and how much I have to offer.  It's that experience of lost time I wrote about recently in my blog.

I cannot keep grieving the past.  I wish to live in the present moment and aim to create a better future life.  And I am doing that.  But just because I am acknowledging and working through the ways the past impacted me does not mean it is an easy process.  It's rarely been easy.  I wonder if there are not better ways to cope when I have these moments of sheer joy and sheer grief intermingling with one another.  And I find myself asking yet again 'When does this pain end?  When will feeling normal not feel so strange?' Sitting in the depth of my feelings and simply analyzing them endlessly is not a healthy strategy...and I do not feel I am doing that excessively.  But there have to be better ways to cope.  I am going to speak with my therapist about this on Monday.

I'll be heading out fairly soon to do another workout at the YMCA.  Physical activity always relieves my stress.  Boxing is proving immensely therapeutic for me.  I will be writing another post later today in honor of this special time of year known as Imbolc.

Cheers!

A Bitter End to a Bitter Month

Friday, January 31, 2014


A local seasoned meteorologist likes to call cold weather of a certain severity Nanook.  It's been quite Nanook here in Minnesota this winter.  It's been the type of winter that long-time Minnesotans can respect.  We've had plenty of nights below 0F.  We've had plenty of days below 0F...in my opinion.
As I sit and compose this final entry of January, 2014 I am enjoying morning light filtering into the house.  The sun is greeting quite a landscape of snow though.  After yesterday's snowfall I believe we have about 16-18 inches on the ground in the Twin Cities.  We live on planet Hoth now.

Bitter cold is a good inspiration to speak about an unfortunate human experience, namely bitterness.  Of all the prevailing affective states bitterness ranks near the top of the scale of least desirable states to be stuck in.  It must be up there somewhere with despair and rage.  Anger, in my opinion, is preferable to bitterness.  Why?  Because anger has an energetic quality to it that bespeaks of a greater amenability to being confronted and tempered.  Anger is something you feel in the moment when someone does something you take immense offense to.  Anger is something you can feel for relatively short periods of time when circumstances prove stressful and wearisome.  Bitterness is another matter.

Bitterness is the inevitable fruit of long un-extinguished pain and suffering.  Bitterness grows when suffering goes not only on for a lengthy period of time but also unacknowledged.  Bitterness is a close relative of alienation, isolation and despair.  Bitterness is something a person who has lost precious elements of their lives (people, opportunities, a home, etc) time and time again can begin to feel when the related inevitable grief goes ignored.  Bitterness, in a sense, is grief driven underground for so long that it metastasizes into a darker form.  To be bitter is to feel so wounded in the heart chakra that no balm of healing will quickly bring relief.  In short, bitterness is something I prefer not to experience.

I feel grateful to state that bitterness has thankfully not been my prominent affective state for any long period of my life history.  I would by lying to say I have not felt bitterness at some point in my life.  In my case I suppose the anger I carried turned into more of a depression than a bitterness.  In my experience bitterness has a harder edge than depression; bitterness has a brittle quality whereas depression has a leaden heaviness to it.

As I continue to address the unacknowledged grief I have carried within me I feel that I am lightening up over time.  But it's a process.  It won't happen overnight.  It has taken me seven months just to reach the place I am now...namely sub-clinical for PTSD, more optimistic about my future and the healthiest, holistically speaking, that I have ever been.  I now feel energized by the idea of contemplating great future possibilities for myself.  I am excited by what is possible.  I am excited about how much I am striving for a better future and how dedicated I remain to all my healthy habits.  And I am excited that this bitter winter has not overwhelmed me more than it occasionally has.  My Vitamin D prescription has been a life saver.  But then again so has my phototherapy box, exercise and therapy.  These have all been vital ingredients to my recovery.

Despite the severity of the winter climate here in Minnesota and the passive-aggressive undercurrent to the local culture that I could do without I am nonetheless grateful for many aspects of Minnesota.  And one in particular I am so grateful for is the health care system this state offers its people.  It's one of the best I have ever found.  I do not know who I would be today if I didn't have a great health care plan that made it possible for me to walk a journey of recovery as intensive as the one I have walked.


I took advantage of the winter weather yesterday to drop by the Abbott Northwestern campus yesterday and get in to see my physical therapist for my foot.  I'm now on my way through what I hope will be the last targeted body part I need to deal with.  I try not to think too much of how I found myself in need of so much physical therapy.  To do so is to invite in a depression I do not need.  My commitment to myself is to remain physically fit so I do not find myself in such a storm of issues again.

It's Beginning to Look a lot like Hoth

Thursday, January 30, 2014

So today we're having one of those lovely days when the weather forecast is repeatedly updated and each time an update is made the forecasted snow accumulation goes up.  An original forecast of one to three inches is now revised to four to eight inches.  At least it isn't -15F!  It is a balmy 18F.  But I am beginning to see snow drifts and mounds (from where the plows shove snow) so tall that I cannot see over them.  At least the calendar will switch to February...so one day it will be warm enough to melt all the snow away.  

I've been to my acupuncturist this morning and am waiting to see my chiropractor next.  I am finally basically done with ongoing acupuncture; I only need to return as needed.  So now my calendar opens up a bit more to allow in my new life!

Though much continues to improve in my life other aspects of my recovery are simply going to take more time.  It still feels weird some of the time for me to be so in my body.  I've said it before and I will say it again: When does it no longer feel abnormal to feel normal after having an anxiety disorder for three decades?  Who knows the answer to that one.  I suppose life will continue to feel like an ongoing adventure until that reality shifts.

This afternoon I spoke with the pastor of my MCC congregation about potentially offering a PTSD recovery oriented class that incorporates storytelling as a healing modality.    I enjoyed my conversation with him and will be moving forward with thinking through the finer details of such a class.  I previously had not had the chance to sit down and speak with him personally since I became a member of the congregation this past September.

Tomorrow is the last day of January.  I am looking forward to its end.  It has been the coldest month I have ever lived through.

An Open Letter to Wounded Warriors

Wednesday, January 29, 2014


I just came home a little while ago after having lunch with my friend Keith at the Aliveness Project.  I can definitely tell the days are growing longer and the sun is arcing higher in the sky.  But it's still cold. And the world appears quite dormant.  But I know there is life underground.  One day the sun's power shall overpower the cold and the ice will melt away.  Spring will come.

It might seem like I am a bit depressed considering the beginning of my posting for today.  I am not.  I am still feeling the afterglow of the news I received yesterday that I am sub-clinical.  Such news calls for celebration.

Recent engaging meetings with friends and new friends has led me to wish to post another open letter on this page.  Earlier this month I posted an open letter to Gabrielle Giffords after reading an op-ed piece she wrote which appeared in the New York Times.  So here comes another one.  This letter is written to what I call the wounded warrior.  This can include military veterans, activists, government officials, police, detectives, investigators, fathers and anyone whose daily life demands much of them.


Dear Wounded Warriors,

I count myself among you.  I have been writing of my life journey in immense detail since last summer. I consider myself a warrior in the cause for creating a more just and compassionate world.  And like you I have experienced my share of challenges, disappointments, pain, confusion and even agony.  I have been profoundly wounded at different times in my life.  You know the experience of such broadsiding pain.

I write to you today to make a request of you.  Do not turn away from your pain.  Do not hide it within yourself.  In that densest of darkness you can find the brightest of light.  In your pain, anger, grief and despair you are not alone.  There is the sweet breath of spring calling you to remember the beauty of days gone by which can and will come again if only you should trust in the process of journeying into the darkness.  I have been on my own journey into darkness and am still making my way through its shadowy terrain.  And I am a much better man for having agreed to make the journey.  Do not turn away from your pain.

I believe some among you might feel that it is not masculine to express pain.  You have come to believe that manhood and vulnerability cannot exist in the same body, in the same breath, in the same room.  Your fathers, grandfathers, ministers, brothers, bosses and others have perhaps convinced you of this.  But I believe it is not true.  And I am not the only man who believes as such.  Do you hear the profound yearning within your heart that exclaims resoundingly when you merely gently admit that you do in fact have pain?  Do you feel the release within you?  Do you know the pregnant potential within your darkness?

I am an American citizen and grew up in the United States.  I know this culture well.  I ask you this: What is manhood to you?  What does it mean to be a warrior?  I will tell you now what I believe.

To be a man is to respect all creation around you.
To be a man is to respect the power of your heart, voice and mind.
To be a man is to speak out against injustice that deprives others of their most basic needs.
To be a man is to respect other men as well as all women.
To be a man is to know you have a unique place and role to play in this world.
To be a man is to gaze at the starry night uncluttered by clouds, wind or moon and know you belong.


I am not on good terms with my father.  If you read posts in my blog you will be able to discern the background story.  I love him.  But I believe he turned away from his pain long ago in a mistaken belief that avoiding his pain would be its cure.  And yet I sense there was no cure, no release, no easy breath. What is the source of his pain?  I would suspect it lies within the realm of his relationship with his father.  Ah yes, fathers and sons.  Could there be a richer source of epic tales than the journeys we sons take with our fathers?  I do not believe so.

Last year I went to the Minnesota Men's Conference.  While at the conference I met a number of men who struggle with some of the same issues I do.  Others have unique journeys I can only imagine.  I still remember one man who had previously served in the military.  He alluded to that experience and disclosed some details about his relationship with his son.  It sounded as if it pained him to not be more forthright about his life history.  Turn towards the pain, please.  It is difficult...but the journey is rich.

I have occasionally wondered if my own father's life history includes some sort of pain or trauma that took place while he was in the Army.  I can neither confirm nor deny this.  I can only wonder.  But in this moment all I can do is allow my father to live his chosen life and not push him.  It is his choice to avoid painful matters.  But in doing so it has caused me the pain of estrangement.

Many of us have witnessed some unspeakably horrible circumstances at one time or another in our lives.  This is not surprising.  Our world is filled with beauty...and horror.  And yet nothing can defile our inherent dignity...nothing can truly strip us of our humanity and beauty.  Do you know this?  Have you felt this?  Have you seen this truth shining back to you in the smiles of other men?  Can you allow yourself to bask in the glow of such energy?

Please, turn towards your pain...rather than away.  Walk outside, listen to the wind whispering in the trees, and feel eternity in your bones.  There is no darkness that cannot be conquered.

I welcome you to read more entries from my blog, most especially what I shared in the daily post entitled "War as Performance 'Art'".

Thank you for reading.

I Am Sub-Clinical!

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


Today marks an unexpected and amazingly important milestone in my recovery process from PTSD.  I had an appointment with my therapist this morning.  We focused partially on re-assessing me for PTSD.  Though I do still meet some criteria for PTSD as listed in the DSM V I no longer currently meet enough criteria to be clinically diagnosable for it.  I now score as 'sub-clinical'.  This development is huge!  It marks a major milestone in my journey to full recovery.  When I will meet no criteria for PTSD is not something I can easily predict but at the rate I am going I would not doubt if I make a full recovery by the end of 2014 as I am intending to do.  It might even happen much sooner than that!

It is nice to have a bookend to define the day I knew clearly I no longer could score at a clinical level for PTSD.  While I can define an endpoint to that period of my life defining a beginning point for the disorder is much more challenging.  And it is so challenging due largely to the fact that I believe the beginning is shrouded somewhere in the earliest years of my life.

EMDR therapy has helped me to remove the sharp, hot, painful edge to some of my earliest memories in which I was an unwitting witness to my mother's descent into schizophrenia.  I can now recall those memories without the attached emotional charge that once could easily overwhelm me.  I would certainly guess that my PTSD began no later than when my parents divorced and my mother moved back to Germany.  I can't easily recall the exact time of those events.  I only know that it was very early in my own development.  Trying to find a clear answer to the question of when my PTSD began is something akin to searching for something within a thick fog...it's a bit challenging.

As I made my way home today the world around me looked much as it would shortly after those first sessions I underwent using EMDR therapy: vivid, engaging, exciting.  Though today is one of the coldest days of a winter that has felt plenty long already my excitement about my recovery suffused my body and mind.  Were it not so brisk outside I could imagine going out and shouting "I'm sub-clinical, I'm sub-clinical!"  But then some people might think I am clinical in another way...such as being manic!  The coming of spring and a new cycle of life is still many weeks away but this encouraging news today gives me such a needed boost at a time when I have been feeling a bit weary.  The bitter cold of this winter has been a lot to manage.  I cannot imagine how I would have put up with such enduring cold if it had happened last winter when I had first moved to Minnesota.  Thankfully the remaining days of this winter will be even easier for me to manage now that I have confirmation that all the work I have been doing on myself is paying off...and paying off well!

Now that I am sub-clinical it is, however, important to note that my personal journey of healing is not over yet.  I have in a sense graduated into a different pool of people throughout the world.  I would not consider myself at high risk of a relapse into clinically diagnosable PTSD given the great variety of habits I am cultivating to make a better future life for myself.  Yet it is important that I not waver and slack off now.  My progress is something akin to a patient being given the news of remission of cancer; I am moving in the direction of wellness.  And I intend to keep moving in that direction.

Cheers!

War As Performance "Art"

Monday, January 27, 2014


As I hear more stories about people who have been affected by PTSD it's only natural I hear reference to stories related to Iraq...or Afghanistan.  As I was cleaning up my computer today I found a piece I wrote in 2009 for a class I was taking at the Monterey Institute of International Studies.  It still seems timely today...over four years later:

The Cost of a Myth

A Post-Modern Perspective on American Culture and War

Are you worth more dead than alive?  Well publicized events of America's cultural and political life might lead a person to believe our mainstream culture actually prizes life over death.  Consider the wrangling over abortion provisions that recently slowed progress on the House of Representatives' efforts to create a landmark health care overhaul bill.  Many Americans have very strong feelings on abortion.  Indeed, some people are so pro-life they destroy life as an expression of their respect for it.  A man responsible for the murder of a Wichita, Kansas abortion doctor recently expressed no remorse for his actions.  He cited the imminent danger to unborn lives as justification for the murder.  Taking life to preserve life apparently did not seem to be a contradiction in his own mental calculus.

Yet you can also learn much about a person, people or nation by what is not often openly shared.  America, all appearances to the contrary, espouses a culture of death.  Murder makes money.  Peace does not.  In his book War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning, Chris Hedges explores the statecraft of war.  He asserts all participants in the modern practice of war are defiled, regardless of position or intent.  Hedges worked as a war correspondent for many years and thus witnessed the cold cruelty that leads human beings to murder both adults and children as well as military enemies and civilians.  Hedges argues that the state legitimizes and subsequently prosecutes war (often quite easily with a large degree of impunity) by employing a number of techniques including destruction of the evidence of its inevitable horror, marginalizing dissident voices and revising history itself.  The common theme contained in these strategies is control of information.  The dead "become pieces of performance art" for use as state propaganda.

Any well educated statesman with a post modern perspective will affirm that power and knowledge are indeed intimately intertwined.  To gain and maintain the former you must know how to manage and cultivate the latter.  When information harmful to a reputation might possibly emerge, controlling knowledge is a paramount strategy.  The United States military is certainly aware of the power of knowledge.  To be otherwise would risk the American public's tolerance of war and its inevitable destruction.  Our culture's glorification of war necessarily requires a distorted understanding of what war is, and what it does to all it consumes.

Consider the eight year long conflict in Afghanistan.  Let us put aside all questions as to what the United States' motivations are for being there and whether the mission itself is a viable one.  Let us concentrate solely on the consequences.  Have you ever noticed how frequently American military deaths are repeated in media reports, and how comparatively infrequent are reports of the greater number of personnel seriously injured?  What ultimately becomes of these people and their profoundly altered futures?  Indeed, if our nation possesses such reverence for life, where is the widespread interest in the current lives of these personnel who survive?  If we care so much for life, where is our interest in these individuals' futures?

The paucity of data on the war injured can be appreciated by the name of one site that offers it: www.unknownnews.net.  According to the site, the number of troops seriously injured compared to the number killed is three and seven times greater for theaters in Afghanistan and Iraq respectively.  Data from more well known sources is equally sobering.  A recent New York Times article provided an estimate that the costs of sending additional American troops to Afghanistan averages to $1,000,000.00 per soldier per annum.  The high cost is due in part to transportation and equipment costs for each soldier.  Regardless of what choice President Obama ultimately makes regarding the American presence in Afghanistan, the costs we have already incurred, and will continue to incur, are enormous. 

There is a saying that ignorance is bliss.  But we are ignorant of what our military personnel endure at our own peril.  We are truly burdened by this ignorance.  Long after the Afghanistan question is somehow answered, we here in America will be confronting the consequences.  Consider the many soldiers afflicted with PTSD.  But there is a still darker story, and this one comes from Iraq.  Consider the horror of depleted uranium.

The Depleted Uranium Citizens' Network of the Military Toxics Project provides data on the exposure of American military personnel to depleted uranium during the Gulf War of 1990-91.  The Gulf War was the first major conflict to feature the use of depleted uranium (DU) in weaponry.  The Army Environmental Policy Institute, in response to a Congressional requirement, generated a technical report on the environmental consequences of DU use.  The Depleted Uranium Citizens' Network reviewed the report and determined that "its conclusions are inconsistent with its creditable scientific statements."  The Network further states that "DU is a deadly substance from which soldiers, the public and the environment must be protected beforehand, because no technology can afterwards adequately mitigate its effects."  DU weapons later became available on the world market.  Does the glory of war include radiation poisoning?  America unleashed the pain of radiation related illness by bombing Hiroshima and Nagasaki in World War II.  How can we tolerate the Department of Defense allowing our military personnel to be exposed to radioactive material?

Yet the horror widens still more.  For truly stomach churning material, read an article recently published by Justin O'Connell entitled "Copenhagen Treaty: Premises and Motivations."  The United States Department of Defense is recognized therein as "the largest polluter in the world, producing more hazardous wastes than the five largest US chemical companies together."  How can the largest polluter of the world simultaneously successfully provide for the security of a nation?  Have you heard of a greater contradiction?

A truly sustainable state is one that ensures the security of its own people.  And yet a sustainable state will also wisely recognize the need to provide a certain baseline of care and security for its military and security forces that ensure its own existence.  And on that second measure, the United States has a long distance to go.

Lost Time

Monday, January 27, 2014


As I continue my recovery process I often feel the weight of grief.  My grief has so many facets to it.  Some of my grief is due to the injustice I experienced as a child which I could not escape.  Then there is the alienation from my families of origin I have felt on different occasions in my life.  This alienation has also been a source of grief.  Now, as I work through the impact of my earlier life history in a proactive way, I can identify the aspect of my grief that is most prominent for me now.  And this grief comes from my feeling of having missed out.  I feel that I have missed out on so much.

To awaken to the reality that I have been experiencing an anxiety disorder for decades is no small matter.  I have spoken about this in more recent posts; it wasn't entirely clear to me just what I had been experiencing during the first few months that I found myself back in therapy yet again.  Last June, July, August and even September seem like such a blur now.  I was focused on getting out of the messy mix of feelings I was feeling at the time and not at all focused on attempting to see the bigger picture of my life history.  Once that initial stage had passed life became a lot easier...in some respects.  I still find myself feeling a lot of pain these days...but at least I am finally fully conscious of it (or nearly so...can we ever be 100.0000% conscious of whatever pain there is in our lives??).  My physical body, with the exception of my left foot, now is in very good shape.  Indeed, I am probably nearly in the best physical shape I have ever been in now.  And my emotional health is rapidly catching up as well.

Lost time.  How do you deal with discovering you were anxious nearly as early as you have a consistent stream of memory?  How do you overcome such a lengthy legacy of internal disquiet that was so long in the backdrop of your psyche?  These are not rhetorical questions.  Nor are they easy questions to resolve.  All I can do now is live my life in the best way possible and be the person I wish to be.  By living in the present moment and releasing all aspects of the past that no longer serve me now I can move forward in a decisive and healthy way.  And yet still I feel the burden of lost time.

When I attended the partial hospitalization program at Abbott Northwestern Hospital last November there was a woman in my group that reminded me very much of my mother.  She was marginally functional; the pain in one of her wrists would keep her awake at night.  She was so sleep deprived that she was at risk of becoming psychotic.  It was difficult to be around her because I found her emotionally draining.  I for my part was probably also not always easy to be around.  I still remember her speaking of her sense of me and talking about how she sensed so much anger in me.  She was correct.  I was very angry.

Anger is a primary affective state I can find myself slipping into when I ruminate too much about lost time.  I need to keep myself sufficiently busy such that I do not have the time to ruminate on the legacy of my past.  I have made incredible progress in these last seven months; friends have witnessed my transformation and have been impressed by the speed of my recovery.  And yet there is still much work to be done.

I also feel a bit weary lately of winter.  The sun is shining today but it again is one of the coldest days of the winter season.  Last year the spring began very late; there were record ice out dates on area lakes.  I am wondering what this coming spring will hold for us.  I pray that it begins earlier and lasts longer than last year's version of spring.  But with the jet stream configuration so stuck it leads me to wonder.  What will cause the pattern to finally begin to break down?

I am going to take a bit of time away from this blog at some point in February.  I do not expect it will be a long break...most likely no more than a week.  I feel it would be healthy to step back and reassess a lot of my life right now.  But I will return to writing!  I find it so therapeutic and also uplifting.  It pleases me to know that some people are finding great benefit from my willingness to share my thoughts in a form available to anyone who should choose to follow me.

I wish everyone who reads this a pleasant and enjoyable day.

My Grand Remodeling of Me

Sunday, January 26, 2014


When my plan to go to Chicago fell through yesterday morning I decided to refocus and use my time to continue actively working on my own recovery process.  Today I was a well behaved guy; I went to the YMCA this afternoon despite the quickly deteriorating weather conditions (there is currently a blizzard warning just west of the Twin Cities).  I did my shoulder exercises, swam twenty laps in the pool and then did some boxing.

As I continue to remodel the person I present to the world I am allowing myself to pursue all sorts of activities I previously excluded and imagined were the province of people I would not fit among.  I had never previously thought of myself as an athlete or even all that capable of becoming an athlete even if I set my mind to such a project.  And now I find myself wondering why.  Why did I abdicate so much of my personal power to ideas about myself which were not truly my own nor ideas I wanted actually to hold?  In some sense I believe the answer goes back yet again to my early life history and the trauma I experienced which led to the development of my PTSD.  It was simply easier to succumb to others' projections and definitions of me rather than adamantly resist and more vigorously assert myself in the world.  That time is over now.  I will not go back to this old way of being.

As I have noted in more recent postings I presented a person to the world who was far more passive that is true to my authentic self.  As I have pursued a very proactive course of healing myself I realize that the person I am becoming is truly the person I always was.  I simply was hiding that man from the world at large.  I was living too much in fear and in pain.  The trauma I experienced did such a number on my brain...and I wasn't even fully aware of it!

I have long thought of boxing as an activity associated with very masculine men.  And because I had long agreed with an inaccurate persona for myself that was fairly passive as somehow being my true self I did not allow myself to think of boxing as something I could or should pursue.  It was a very masculine activity...and I was not a very masculine man...or so I thought.  What nonsense that was!
Today, as I practiced punching, I noticed my hand-eye coordination is already improving.  I am able to punch faster and keep up with the motion of the punching bag more easily.  Practice makes perfect...or at least better!

As I keep faithful to my healing process I continue to entertain that grandest of questions that we can ideally ask ourselves in our lives: What is possible in my life?  What can I ultimately achieve?  I am amazed at how quickly I am improving.  On Tuesday my therapist is going to reassess me according to the criteria used to diagnose PTSD.  It seems entirely possible that I will be un-diagnosable long before the end of 2014.

The Walking Wounded and Silent Sufferers

Saturday, January 25, 2014


Life did not go according to plan this weekend.  I arrived on time at my bus stop this morning to go downtown and catch the Megabus to Chicago.  But the bus did not arrive on time.  And it's quite obvious the driver was not well prepared; she had never even driven the route before!  So instead of visiting Chicago I am staying here in Minneapolis this weekend.

I had a nice conversation with a friend of a friend one evening recently.  I guided the conversation into the topic of PTSD.  I then learned this woman's son has PTSD.  He was sent to Iraq.  This morning I logged on to one of my 'dating' profiles and found a message from someone in which he referenced the contest I participated in last November and my openness about the issue of PTSD.  He mentioned that his father (who was in the Navy) had (has?) PTSD.  As I continue to hear more stories of people's life journeys I have found myself wondering just how accurate the statistics are regarding the frequency of PTSD in the general population of the United States.  I also wonder if it might be something of a 'silent health crisis' i.e. something that is much more endemic to the population than we even understand in the year 2014.

According to the CDC heart disease is the number one cause of death in the United States.  For fairly recent statistics you can find a good source here.  It is interesting to see the fifteen primary causes of death ranked and to see where they fall compared to one another.  Suicide leads to more deaths than chronic liver disease or Parkinson's disease.  Yet influenza still results in a greater loss of life than suicide.  Accidents are the 5th leading cause of death!

Of the deaths attributable to suicide I wonder how many of those were committed by those who had PTSD or would have been diagnosed with PTSD if they had sought out a competent health care provider.  As with other branches of science the advance of medicine is hindered in part by the quality of available data.  I also can't help but wonder what the breakdown of PTSD cases is with respect to gender.  My educated guess might be that women represent a disproportionately high percentage of the total number (when compared against their representation of the general population) because I would guess that women have better and more active health care seeking behaviors and are thus more likely to get screened and have such a condition discovered.  Men, especially those from cultures in which machismo reigns, seem less likely to seek out medical attention...even when it is urgent that they do so.  In my opinion many men are still raised to avoid, deny or minimize their experience of pain.  To admit to being in pain is somehow to be thought of us as not being manly or being 'less than'.

I feel that we all lose out when people cannot simply admit to their pain and seek treatment.  Sometimes it's a matter of how they were raised in their own families.  Sometimes it is also or separately an issue of culture.  And then there is the influence of religion and spirituality.  There are many possible explanations.  What I also feel, as I continue to emerge from my own strange state of being that I called 'life' for so long, is that many people walking around are a shadow of their potential selves precisely because they simply refuse to confront their own pain.  And yet the only guaranteed way to have even a chance of solving a problem is to first acknowledge its existence.  And many won't even do that.  I certainly feel this has been true of my paternal family of origin.  Avoidance and denial can be so incredibly toxic.


I have heard nothing from my relatives whom I wrote to this past week regarding my thoughts about my father.  I do not know what I can expect...if anything.  What I do know is that I need to continue to focus on my own healing journey.  Despite the bumps and detours I continue to feel quite good most of the time.  I have moments when I feel especially down but I do not see them metastasizing into a depressive affect.  I am done with depression...now and even forever I think.  I am learning some excellent skills to cultivate my emotional health.

My grief is certainly still with me.  And that is due partly to the poor skills men typically have regarding grief.  But I am learning and moving forwards.  I am determined not to let my past limit what I can realize of my potential.


I have scheduled what I hope will be my final physical therapy evaluation for Monday, February 3rd.  This evaluation will focus specifically on my left foot and lower leg.  My goal of completing physical therapy by March 1st still seems to be a realistic one.  It will be a sweet relief when the only therapy I am seeking out is psychotherapy.  I still marvel at how well I was able to ignore my own pain and grief for so long.  But it didn't serve me well in the long run.  I was only being dragged down by my willingness to ignore it.

Another Way I Am Recovering

Friday, January 24, 2014


Once I successfully address the factors unique to my own paternal family of origin that contributed to the development of my PTSD I intend to continue writing in some fashion as a means of acknowledging a different form of trauma that I believe exists.  I have alluded to this different type of trauma in other writings.  I call it cultural trauma.  There is likely a more technical term for that which I mean to describe.  Genocide and being uprooted from your culture of origin are two examples of events that could produce what I call cultural trauma.

Though I did not realize it at the time I believe I had my first intensive experience of cultural trauma when I lived among the Lakota Native American people on the Rosebud reservation in the first months of 1997.  At the time I was a Jesuit novice and was sent to South Dakota for what the Jesuits call an 'experiment'.  I was in my early 20s at the time.  I had previously never lived immersed in a culture radically different from the cultures my father and mother grew up in.  It was an eye opening experience to say the least.

Many years prior to that time, when I was a very small boy, my parents took photographs of me.  They enlarged one particular image; this image was later mounted on a wall in the house I spent most of my years of childhood.  I had blonde hair, a cute smile...and I was wearing leather.

Last year, around the time my recovery from PTSD began, I decided to also take the plunge and allow myself to more thoroughly explore my mother's culture of origin.  Though I grew up in the United States and am not a dual citizen of the States and Germany I have nonetheless long felt that I belong equally in both places.  Making my trip to Germany last May reawakened what I would call my 'Germanic side'.  I began to explore that side of my identity more and more.  In my mind a common association with German culture is an appreciation for leather.

I am contributing to my recovery process by seeking out my leather brothers (and sisters) this weekend at the Mr. Chicago Leather event in Chicago, Illinois.  I will be leaving early tomorrow morning and taking the bus (because it is cheaper).  I am looking forward to getting away for the weekend and enjoying the pleasures of another city.

Another Apparent Benefit of EMDR

Friday, January 24, 2014


Yesterday I sat down and enjoyed a savory crepe after leaving the downtown YMCA.  I went to the Y immediately after my visit to my podiatrist because I needed to work off the excitement and irritation I was feeling after learning that I needed more physical therapy.

I was undoubtedly experiencing the post-workout rush of endorphins when I sat down to eat but what I observed while eating was something I have experienced on other occasions since last summer.  Once again I noticed that my sense of taste was quite strong.  It seems to me that healing with EMDR therapy can have the effect of heightening the functional capacity of the different senses.  Since I began my own healing journey with the use of EMDR I have noticed my senses of sight, touch and taste have all sharpened.  Many times last summer I found myself noticing a shift in my eyesight after a session that featured EMDR.  My anxiety level initially rose in the early days of my work because I felt confusion as to what was happening to me.  Eventually I learned to relax into the flow of the process and simply allow myself to feel confused and not attempt to make such a feeling 'wrong' in my mind.

I assume the changes in my senses must be attributable to the impact of EMDR therapy in particular because it is the only aspect of my current journey that is significantly different from previous times I have entered therapy.  It's the only new variable in my 'equation' of healing.  So I believe my conclusion is warranted.

Despite the ongoing work of physical therapy that has felt arduous on many days I am nonetheless grateful that I have made it this far.  And despite this process that has unfolded simultaneous to my psychotherapy process (and the demands it has made on me) I still find my daily life filled with this element of magic that I cannot recall feeling any time recently.  Experiencing sharpened senses certainly makes it easier to perceive the world as filled with an amazing amount of magic.  Petting and walking my housemate's dogs on a regular basis has also been so incredibly stimulating for my senses.

Something else amazing also happened yesterday morning.  I experienced a tunnel of light as I rode the #5 bus down South 8th Street in downtown Minneapolis.  It was the perfect time of morning and time of year for the sun to be aligned such that the northwest-southeast oriented street would catch the full power of the sun.  I felt a temptation to stare at the sun because of its immense luminosity and how its light was casting sharp shadows in the bus and outside on the street.  It was so cold outside that you simply could not really perceive the warming rays of the sun with your skin.  Only my eyes could really confirm it was there.  It was wonderful to journey directly towards the sun down the street and to be able to feel such joy at this brief sunbath that I unexpectedly enjoyed.

As I look back now I can confidently state that this experience of being fully in my body didn't really deepen until the shamanic soul retrieval process I did in late November.  Thereafter it seems as if my healing process only accelerated.  And as I have removed one issue after another from my plate of challenges it has been easier to allocate my energy to my remaining challenges.

With each day that passes I feel better and better.

And the Answer Is! More Physical Therapy

Thursday, January 23, 2014


When I first began doing physical therapy last summer I had no idea what a long haul I was in for.  I was angry much of the time because I felt my life had been totally derailed by my unexpected diagnosis of PTSD.  But then new challenges kept appearing on my plate.  Suddenly I found myself working with a litany of health care providers to get me back in shape.  I had a therapist, a physical therapist, an acupuncturist, a chiropractor and so on.  My daily planner began to look like that of an 85 year old.  It was a sobering and overwhelming time.

Today my podiatrist put in an order for still more physical therapy.  This time it is to target the calf muscles in my left leg.  I could choose to become angry about the need for more therapy and then wallow in self pity.  But I am not going to do that.  I am going to channel the energy of my sadness, pain and irritation into the necessary work of improving my health.  I have come this far and I will not back down now.

I do believe this previously unsuccessfully treated condition of PTSD has contributed to the difficulties I have had with my musculoskeletal system.  I simply could not completely relax for years at a time.  I was too anxious.  My body was caught in a persistent low grade state of activation and tension.  My fight or flight response was never completely not on alert.  Because I could not relax my body had to start compensating by developing all these slightly distorted ways of moving.  And thus I found myself inside the body I have all these years later a bit baffled as to how this all happened.  How did I get here?  But more importantly...how do I get back to the healthy person I know I can be?

One clear choice I made months ago was to excise all the dross out of my life.  If you want to be truly healthy (and I mean glowing such that people notice it) you simply have to do a radical inventory of your life and approach your life with incredible honesty.  You have to be willing to review what is and is not working and toss out the dreck that simply doesn't work.  Is it painful?  I would say 99.99% of the time there will be pain involved in such a clearing process.  Will it prove worth it?  I believe the answer is ABSOLUTELY.

Going back into physical therapy yet again has a way of reactivating my grief centered in my experience of feeling I have lost so much time.  My journey of healing has been so lengthy (at least in my mind) that I occasionally have had those nagging, unpleasant thoughts in which I wonder when it will all be over.  To sound like a child: 'Am I there yet?'  And the answer is that I am not.  But I am much, much closer than I have ever been.  And it is also true that I am really the healthiest I have ever been in my life thus far.  It's still a weird feeling.  And who knows what that feeling will end!

I've put on more than fifteen pounds since I began being much more physically active last summer.  I am now constantly weighing in close to the most I have ever weighed.  I am literally growing!  I should take some Before and After pictures.

Remaining Steadfast in the Midst of Dormancy

Wednesday, January 22, 2014


Even now, seven months into my recovery process, there are days when I really would prefer to stay at home and relax in bed.  I certainly am not depressed now (that ended last August) but that doesn't mean remaining committed to the new direction I am charting is always easy.  We all have good days and difficult days.  And sometimes even the good days can feel difficult because it might seem like the world around us is frozen and unmoved by all the changes we make in our own lives.  Today seems to be such a day for me.  Everything seems to be moving forward and I would say that this is objectively true and not just an appearance.  And yet there is my pain within me coaxing me to befriend it so I may be freed from its grasp.

I have a mixed relationship with the dormancy of the world beyond my windows.  Some days I feel the silence and deep cold of winter is an excellent invitation to do the deep work of grief that I feel I must finally attend to in a healthy way.  On other days I look outside and wish I would see the warmth and green of a summer day beckoning me to go outside.  Those days will come one day again.  I just wish I wasn't already pining for them now.  Our season of winter is not very old quite yet but I already feel a bit weary of the continual chill.

Today has not been a "bad" day based on all appearances I have seen thus far.  I woke up easily.  I ate breakfast.  I took my supplements and medication.  I left home on time to catch the bus.  I had a productive meeting with my career coach.  I set some goals to accomplish before I meet with her next Wednesday.  I will be meeting my friend Keith for lunch in a short while.  And then I will go to the YMCA and once again exercise.

Laying down new healthy habits and new healthy neural pathways in the brain is not something you do overnight.  It's not even something you do in the course of several months and necessarily expect amazing changes to greet your vision.  But change does happen.  Just like the thaw of a Minnesota winter that occasionally feels all too slow change will come.  I just have to be patient.  More patience is needed!  And the reward of patience is...patience!

I know my grief is with me today.  I feel its weight.  I know I have stepped through a door of no return...another departure into a future life as I leave the past behind.  In recently disclosing (this past Monday) to some of my relatives that I sought out legal recourse against my father last summer I have (I believe) made it radiantly clear just how angry, disenchanted and demoralized I am with my father's dysfunctional behavior.  I have waffled in my stance with my father many a time in the past.  I will do so no more.  Setting a firm boundary with him is a very painful action for me to take.  But it is necessary for my own recovery and future health that I excise from my life sources of anxiety that I cannot forcibly change.  I cannot make my father magically transform into another man.  I have to let go...regardless of how painful it may be.  And yet the pain is very real and very deep.

I do not feel like I am going through the motions today.  And yet I still feel heavy.  I feel happy to be alive and I look forward to the remainder of what I have planned for today.  When the mere passage of each moment feels arduous I can do something that I have found so helpful throughout difficult times in my life.  I can breathe deeply.  I can remember all the good in my life.  I can recall all those amazing moments I have enjoyed.  I can focus on my amazing resiliency.  I can dream of a better tomorrow...and by dreaming it will eventually come to be.

I took some action yesterday in my continuing job search.  I felt some sense of accomplishment when the day had ended.  I made effort to move forward.  The magic of the Universe is still a vital ingredient though.  Grace in an essential element in all of our lives.  May grace continue to be with me as I transform into the man that has always been inside me.