I get Sports Illustrated in the mail somehow, some way for free. Just one of those things I must have gotten along with some purchase I made along the line somewhere. Anyways, it had a nice article, but brief article, about Kansas City Royals pitcher Zach Greinke, who has turned it all around, and at 25 is the most dominant pitcher in baseball.
He walked away from the game a few years ago because depression and anxiety was too much for him to handle. He needed time away to clear his head. At the time the wonderful old stigma of depression showed it's ugly head, and Greinke was made to look weak, and was unmercifully judged because of his need for time away. Society pressured him to feel guilty about taking time for himself, to clear his head (do ya see any parallels here???).
The article is much too short, mainly because the magazine industry is going the way of the newspaper. Nobody wants to invest in a long meaningful article, but Greinke's story deserved much, much more of a look in-depth. And not so much a character study of Greinke, but of how he overcame, and I'm sure still battles, with all of his issues.
One snippet in the piece describes Greinke's mind racing out of control during a session in the bullpen. He couldn't concentrate, and there were a million places he'd have rather been than where he was -- pitching in the majors, every little kid's dream (and by the way he is engaged to an ex-Dallas Cowboys cheerleader). None of these surface things were enough though, there was something deeper. He had lost his passion, and his drive, and if in the end time away from baseball led him down a different path, then so be it, but, it led him to re-assess everything and change his thinking.
It brings up the brilliance and passion that lie in everyone with depression who I have ever met. It can be evidenced in Kurt Cobain, David Foster Wallace, Hemingway, Lincoln, and so many more. But for me, the same catalyst for our breakdowns is there in all of us, and it has nothing to do with intellect or anything like that -- it comes down to passion.
The people I have met in group, in the hospital, and along my path all have a special gift that is really hard to realize in the crazy swarm of everyday life. That gift is that it's fairly easy for us to find deeper meaning in things, or search for deeper meaning in things than it is for the "snap out of it" people out there. Sometimes it's a huge burden because the surface IS the surface sometimes, and a lot of times things need to be taken at face value. There isn't always deeper meaning.
But beyond that passion is the root word for compassion. In that, compassion is a total giving up of self, which can be extremely beautiful, and also can be extremely painful. I remember during my worst moments, that I want to be one of those non-feeling people who just treads water through life. I would have traded anything for that.
And now I see how incredibly fucked that way of thinking was, but, at the time, the pain was so unbelievably crippling, that I wanted to be that person who drinks away my worries, I didn't want to care about politics, or people in other countries and those less fortunate than me. I didn't want my palms to sweat when I watched a close Tigers/Royals game in April, or tear my Michigan jersey off and throw it down the hallway because they threw another interception. That was all part of caring too damed much, and I wanted it to stop...forever, FOR-EV-ER.
But that's me. The parts of me that I love, and it's what temporarily died in me last Spring. I didn't love the parts of me that became obsessed with "supposed to" living, but that began to rule me. Kristin (aka Tinny) and I used to travel like maniacs. We were going to Toronto one weekend a month for what seemed like four years. Our travel (my favorite thing in the world) was incredibly compromised because I was being driven by somebody, something else.
I'm trying to find my essential self, and I'm close. It's a lifelong process though. You work at it every day, you read, or journal, or come here and write, or talk it out with people. It takes work, but the rewards are so great in the end, and they just get better. There is no finish line in life, because it's not a race.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Is this cute or horrible?
I can't tell if this is endearingly cute, or horrible. Well, at the worst, you get to here a great song...
Delineation
I feel like I need to describe why I write...especially why I bare my soul for anyone on the planet to stumble upon.
I could make it all private, and I have, but it serves no purpose. Shit, more people know more about the swine flu in one day then they'll ever in their lives understand about mental health.
The point is to make it known what spins around in the head of a depressive. It's something you always are, and something you always have, and it's deadlier than what a lot of people think are deadly ailments. It touches and hurts more lives than any number could justifiably put a finger on.
I hope, foolishly probably, that this makes it a little bit clearer as to what exactly I go through. I'm not showing you my journal -- so this is all you're gettin'.
I haven't had a bad day in a really long time, and when I do, it's always prompted by thinking about last spring/summer, or when I see myself falling back into the similar patterns that swept me into everything in the first place. After I got out of the hospital for the second time, I really don't have a fucking clue who I was. It doesn't feel like any other part of my life when I look back at that phase -- from late May to the day I left, really, until around the holidays.
Before everything, I was a closed book to all but a few people on this planet. I went to work and never talked about life outside of work...if I did it was self-deprecating. I don't think anyone I worked with at Community Service even knew what town I lived in.
But I never talked to ANYBODY with real depth. There are a few people, and they know who they are. But even then, the days when I was in the mood to "talk" were few and far between, and many times prompted but what was minor depressive episodes -- I just had no idea that's what it was, because it washed away in a day or two.
Meanwhile, these grandiose thoughts and manias ran through me all of the time, and I was so detached, that I just let it rumble around and settle. I was a dickhead at times, I fought, and blamed everyone outside of myself for my problems. Then, I also knew myself on a deeper level than I think a lot of people did. I LOVE to travel, love writing and reading, I love being around people, and I just like smiling and laughing and having fun. Even when I didn't like myself (let's say 2006-2008), I always tried to be good to others -- sadly, the ones I was closest to are the ones I wasn't that great to.
I lost a huge part of that because of the "supposed to" living stuff. But the "supposed to" was like a ghost. I saw everyone else doing these things, and that's their path. I do see some of those people who are incredibly unhappy, and I pray that their path to happiness is realized eventually. People absolutely did articulate to me that I "should" get a job that's more like a career, with benefits. Or, "man, you and Kristin have been together forever, shouldn't you be buying a ring." But fuck me, it doesn't matter NOW what was said to me, but man did it take a mental toll, along with every thing else that was bouncing in my head. The collapse was inevitable now that I look back at it.
Other people is my huge concern heading into what's now July 1st. I know I am super prepared, but, if there is any chance of "it" happening again, I want to make sure that I am over, over, over prepared for everything that's waiting when I get home. The events of the past week have shown me that my expectations to come back to everybody being transformed is so silly. I know shitty days will come when I am home, but I know how to battle through them now.
EVERYONE has shitty days, and most of the time they are unprompted. The ego wants to attach blame to someone, or something else so that shield deflects and possibility that the problem is inward. My main culprit is usually the weather. It bares a lot of my burden -- but that's so easy. What about the clouds, or the cold temperature affects the way we think, the way he treat other people, and how we are in tune with ourselves? It absolutely doesn't.
But people let it because it's easier to say "fuck, the weather is so shitty here that I am miserable." Really? Is THAT why you're miserable, or are you miserable because you're miserable? You hear it all the time...even in Florida. NOBODY IS EVER HAPPY WITH THEIR WEATHER. It's been gorgeous here for weeks now, but, the news is about the drought, or the bugs, or the impending humidity, or that it's TOO hot.
I could make it all private, and I have, but it serves no purpose. Shit, more people know more about the swine flu in one day then they'll ever in their lives understand about mental health.
The point is to make it known what spins around in the head of a depressive. It's something you always are, and something you always have, and it's deadlier than what a lot of people think are deadly ailments. It touches and hurts more lives than any number could justifiably put a finger on.
I hope, foolishly probably, that this makes it a little bit clearer as to what exactly I go through. I'm not showing you my journal -- so this is all you're gettin'.
I haven't had a bad day in a really long time, and when I do, it's always prompted by thinking about last spring/summer, or when I see myself falling back into the similar patterns that swept me into everything in the first place. After I got out of the hospital for the second time, I really don't have a fucking clue who I was. It doesn't feel like any other part of my life when I look back at that phase -- from late May to the day I left, really, until around the holidays.
Before everything, I was a closed book to all but a few people on this planet. I went to work and never talked about life outside of work...if I did it was self-deprecating. I don't think anyone I worked with at Community Service even knew what town I lived in.
But I never talked to ANYBODY with real depth. There are a few people, and they know who they are. But even then, the days when I was in the mood to "talk" were few and far between, and many times prompted but what was minor depressive episodes -- I just had no idea that's what it was, because it washed away in a day or two.
Meanwhile, these grandiose thoughts and manias ran through me all of the time, and I was so detached, that I just let it rumble around and settle. I was a dickhead at times, I fought, and blamed everyone outside of myself for my problems. Then, I also knew myself on a deeper level than I think a lot of people did. I LOVE to travel, love writing and reading, I love being around people, and I just like smiling and laughing and having fun. Even when I didn't like myself (let's say 2006-2008), I always tried to be good to others -- sadly, the ones I was closest to are the ones I wasn't that great to.
I lost a huge part of that because of the "supposed to" living stuff. But the "supposed to" was like a ghost. I saw everyone else doing these things, and that's their path. I do see some of those people who are incredibly unhappy, and I pray that their path to happiness is realized eventually. People absolutely did articulate to me that I "should" get a job that's more like a career, with benefits. Or, "man, you and Kristin have been together forever, shouldn't you be buying a ring." But fuck me, it doesn't matter NOW what was said to me, but man did it take a mental toll, along with every thing else that was bouncing in my head. The collapse was inevitable now that I look back at it.
Other people is my huge concern heading into what's now July 1st. I know I am super prepared, but, if there is any chance of "it" happening again, I want to make sure that I am over, over, over prepared for everything that's waiting when I get home. The events of the past week have shown me that my expectations to come back to everybody being transformed is so silly. I know shitty days will come when I am home, but I know how to battle through them now.
EVERYONE has shitty days, and most of the time they are unprompted. The ego wants to attach blame to someone, or something else so that shield deflects and possibility that the problem is inward. My main culprit is usually the weather. It bares a lot of my burden -- but that's so easy. What about the clouds, or the cold temperature affects the way we think, the way he treat other people, and how we are in tune with ourselves? It absolutely doesn't.
But people let it because it's easier to say "fuck, the weather is so shitty here that I am miserable." Really? Is THAT why you're miserable, or are you miserable because you're miserable? You hear it all the time...even in Florida. NOBODY IS EVER HAPPY WITH THEIR WEATHER. It's been gorgeous here for weeks now, but, the news is about the drought, or the bugs, or the impending humidity, or that it's TOO hot.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Motivation
Doing so much better lately...SO much better. Along with the inner change and emotional maturing that I've been doing, I'm so incredibly inspired since February (when it all kind of started to come together) to do so much. I've read a ton, and understanding the importance of diet and exercise, I've started to lose mad weight...The Wellbutrin helps curb the appetite (but seriously, Hostess Cinnamon Rolls are still a huge problem), but there are still days, like today, where I don't feel motivated.
A fundamental change has set in there also. That "thing" that for months and months killed my drive...it's been sleeping for a while. I do appreciate, understand and fully take advantage of stillness and do-nothingness, and understand that it's not laziness. I am so relaxed in those moments, because I am present in those moments. Worry doesn't rule my head and hate doesn't stay in my heart. In turn, I can be at peace in stillness.
More of the problem is when I tell myself that I am doing such and such today, then end up not doing it because my self-esteem is bottomed out again, and my drive is gone -- it happens so infrequently now.
Today was a hard one so far Or has been. Noon used to be the A.M for me, but, I am back to waking up at 9 or so. But yeah, I haven't felt like much so far today, HOWEVA, more vitriol, hate, and bitterness that I came across today has motivated the fuck out of me. I am still marinating on it, but, it's not consuming me. I had to sit and write this out before running to the gym, only because I am waiting for the dryer to stop. Writing does help, and I would be stewing a little bit right now, but this is venting. Y'all (yeah, y'all is in my vernacular now, and I fear it's there to stay) should write your shit out...it helps immensely.
It got me to think about motivation, and the gym, and just the randomness that ties all of this together. Negative energy and positive energy at times can be harnessed the same way. Horribly trite metaphor coming -- but it is fuel for me. A lot of times, when I am feeling good, I feel the drive to go to the gym because my Team Kev teammate has done so well to transform herself at the gym, or because I hear about some folks back home who are becoming better people, or because I am inspired by the thought of someone sitting up in a hospital, or someone who has passed too soon, who would love the chance to just get on an elliptical. Those are the days I listen to Dave on the elliptical, or Third Eye Blind.
Today when I get there...yeah, it's a Jay-Z day. To me though, that is enormous progress. I would have fed the fight, I would have fed the negativity, and then felt like today was another battle in the long shitty suffering that is life -- but I don't feel that way.
I'm letting it ignite a fire that had some spark in it still, but needed to be stirred up. Four days in a row, nothing wrong with that, take the fifth day off and just play PS3 all day...Not happening...Thank you to the person who doesn't even know they fueled me today.
It's called the "push back." There used to be nowhere to go when I pushed. Think about the term - push BACK. You're getting pushed, and when you push back, that force is just going to push you back after you're done. It's a never ending, sisyphean battle that does no good for anyone in the end. I'm not pushing anymore. If you swing, I'm going to duck, and harness the energy from that punch into my fuel to get better.
A fundamental change has set in there also. That "thing" that for months and months killed my drive...it's been sleeping for a while. I do appreciate, understand and fully take advantage of stillness and do-nothingness, and understand that it's not laziness. I am so relaxed in those moments, because I am present in those moments. Worry doesn't rule my head and hate doesn't stay in my heart. In turn, I can be at peace in stillness.
More of the problem is when I tell myself that I am doing such and such today, then end up not doing it because my self-esteem is bottomed out again, and my drive is gone -- it happens so infrequently now.
Today was a hard one so far Or has been. Noon used to be the A.M for me, but, I am back to waking up at 9 or so. But yeah, I haven't felt like much so far today, HOWEVA, more vitriol, hate, and bitterness that I came across today has motivated the fuck out of me. I am still marinating on it, but, it's not consuming me. I had to sit and write this out before running to the gym, only because I am waiting for the dryer to stop. Writing does help, and I would be stewing a little bit right now, but this is venting. Y'all (yeah, y'all is in my vernacular now, and I fear it's there to stay) should write your shit out...it helps immensely.
It got me to think about motivation, and the gym, and just the randomness that ties all of this together. Negative energy and positive energy at times can be harnessed the same way. Horribly trite metaphor coming -- but it is fuel for me. A lot of times, when I am feeling good, I feel the drive to go to the gym because my Team Kev teammate has done so well to transform herself at the gym, or because I hear about some folks back home who are becoming better people, or because I am inspired by the thought of someone sitting up in a hospital, or someone who has passed too soon, who would love the chance to just get on an elliptical. Those are the days I listen to Dave on the elliptical, or Third Eye Blind.
Today when I get there...yeah, it's a Jay-Z day. To me though, that is enormous progress. I would have fed the fight, I would have fed the negativity, and then felt like today was another battle in the long shitty suffering that is life -- but I don't feel that way.
I'm letting it ignite a fire that had some spark in it still, but needed to be stirred up. Four days in a row, nothing wrong with that, take the fifth day off and just play PS3 all day...Not happening...Thank you to the person who doesn't even know they fueled me today.
It's called the "push back." There used to be nowhere to go when I pushed. Think about the term - push BACK. You're getting pushed, and when you push back, that force is just going to push you back after you're done. It's a never ending, sisyphean battle that does no good for anyone in the end. I'm not pushing anymore. If you swing, I'm going to duck, and harness the energy from that punch into my fuel to get better.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Right There
It's funny in the whirlwind of life how sometimes what's always been there sticks it's leg out and makes you remember it's there.
Music IS art, so long as it's not country music. Following a formula is not art, sorry. Art is when the soul bleeds out, and there is depth and meaning to the lyrics. Pure art isn't over-sentimentality, it's truth. I will never subscribe art to any musicians who don't write their own lyrics. I can read a book aloud...does that mean I the book is mine?
Anyways...still my favorite band, despite their disappearance over the last six years or so has always been Third Eye Blind. I had a "holy shit" moment when their song "Another Life" came on shuffle on the iPod when I was at the beach.
Music IS art, so long as it's not country music. Following a formula is not art, sorry. Art is when the soul bleeds out, and there is depth and meaning to the lyrics. Pure art isn't over-sentimentality, it's truth. I will never subscribe art to any musicians who don't write their own lyrics. I can read a book aloud...does that mean I the book is mine?
Anyways...still my favorite band, despite their disappearance over the last six years or so has always been Third Eye Blind. I had a "holy shit" moment when their song "Another Life" came on shuffle on the iPod when I was at the beach.
people's eyes say i'm no damn good
shut down and left lonely
only with the maybe we could
i stay inside cause i'm misunderstood
i can't get no release
i'm shell-shocked from some heavy blows
a stranger to the people i know
who used to say "he never had a down day"
now i'm holding on to can't let gos
and silence brings no peace
because another life
went through my window pane
and i don't know why
i've got a will to burn
in attic rooms i just shut my door (shut my door)
for seven weeks maybe seven more (seven more)
it's like i face a seven-headed whore
the fight's knocked out of me
No measure for grief and I can’t find it with the sound
Break down, to the great god of the hand me down
Holding the past around wound up at the lost and found
where the colors all run to grey
wait a minute and
i'm coming of a down day
colorized, the city plays a double feature today
and life is long, and something is wrong
but i want to know what's going on and on
in another life
cos it's good again
and it will never die
i've got a will to burn
to see you again
it's like another life
it's like I'll not get better
a will to burn
oh the time goes by and i realize, that i'm alright
you thought nothing would be the same
but life comes 'round again
quick wits and all curious
all caught up in what you say
and makes me grab the time
before it slips away
i can't stay and i cannot wait
and i'm grateful to whistle past the grave yard gate
the flicker fade is getting stronger
like when the days start getting longer
i got the rhythm down now in the places we warred
the golden gate is like my diving board
and life is pointless
but what's so wrong with that?
cos there's another life
and a sweeter pain
and it will never die
you got a will to burn
to see you again
it's like another life
i feel the whole thing happen
the will to burn
to see you again
it's like another life
i got another life
i got another life
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Death
I feel so blessed to be reading Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser. I am through the parenting things, and I know I will get there one day to have as a reference, in-between bullpen sessions with my 3-year old left hander.
I am proud that I can reflect on the events of a year ago now and almost smile. Being suicidal, I would appear to be ready for death. That's not the case though. Suicide, or suicidal thoughts in the way that I had them were to kill myself....but I didn't ever want to leave the world. It was a horrific way to live, for months and months I said I did want to leave this world -- it would ease the burden on everybody close to me. Outwardly those feelings and thoughts drove me into the hospital, thank God.
The death I wanted was the death to my life in Buffalo. That doesn't mean everything was bad, but, I think I've established what was bad in my life, how I had lost ME, and the sadness and self-hatred I had in myself. I wanted that killed, and I wanted it immediately.
The immediacy was a delusion, but obviously I was not in my right mind. The process turned slowly, and I am proud of the way I passed the time before leaving for Michigan in September. I re-discovered what I love about myself. I found that parts of me that I loved that had gone into the abyss as I worked 60 hours a week and fought the "supposed-tos."
I traveled a ton, I wrote, I read relentlessly, I played soccer, went to sporting events and great cities, and most importantly I surrounded myself with amazing people. I also found new people who I am so proud to have in my life now. You have made more of a difference in my life than you can imagine (one of you is related to Joey Liberta, and the other lives with mini-Janis Joplin). If we've grown closer in the past year, it's because I have been drawn to your soul. THAT in you that makes you human, and that in me that makes me human....soul.
I believe that we are all lost in one way or another. I am so proud of Danielle and Greg, two of my favorite people in the world, for having such an amazing baby, and Greg being such a great father. I joked about bringing the baby back down to Florida with me in January and Greg said "nooo, I would miss him too much!" and little D's reaction was exactly the same. To know Gnomey is to love him. The words "I don't like Gnome (or Griz)" have never, and will never be spoken. And the spirit of little D, I love that little kid. Best couple ever, and you don't have to look far past their parents to see why.
D&G seem the least lost, and most connected people I know. Connected to what? It's hard to quantify, but Elizabeth Lesser calls it "soul" and I think that's good.
At our core we all want to connect, we all want to love, and we all want those transcendent life experiences. The people I look up to, and strive to be, can make the mundane transcendent, and that lies in soul. We don't want to talk to someone on the subway, or in line at the bank and just say "hello, how are you" and have the conversation die two seconds after the words are said. In our core -- our soul -- we want to connect with our fellow person, our fellow soul well beyond the standard pleasantries.
You can prepare now for that scary death, the big D. Look at the way you deal with simple, less profound deaths in this world. A show you love finally runs out and it sucks, but, you get over it, you have the memories, and even sometimes the video (DVD) of that show and it's a celebration.
Profoundly a job loss can be seen as a death. Another in the line of many mini-deaths we all experience in life. You cope with it, and don't let it ruin you like it did me. Even if you have an incredibly hard time, don't forget the power of "this too shall pass."
These little death tests set us up to make us not have this horrifying relationship with ultimate death that many, many of us do.
Grief is totally and utterly acceptable, and it's beautiful to run with it. Flow in the water of the grief, don't swim against it. Grieve together, tell stories, and remember the love that was passed back and forth between yourself and whoever passed while they were alive. Imagine someone who dies as Jane or John Doe, and then think about how blessed you were and how blessed the deceased was to have been so loved in their time on this planet.
Your personal death is a different story, but the same ideas can apply. It all comes down to Love. Love breeds acceptance, full and whole-hearted acceptance. Why not wait for death as if it's a the eve of a trip that you'll be making abroad. We're all going somewhere, the miracle of this life (just think about the miracle of your heart), has to mean there is a higher power out there somewhere.
When you can get to realize that the negative conceptions we have about death, in all facets of our life, can be worked on, accepted and changed.....think about how much better life, day-to-day and second-to-second is going to be.
I hate country music, or as a famous 12-year old once said, "I dislike it greatly." Tim McGraw's song "Live Like you Were Dying" is close, but trite.
I propose living like you've already died. Imagine that! Imagine how great your life could be when you think that it's all gone. Meditate on it if you can...Meditation, I don't want to get into, but is simpler than it sounds. Driving to work early one morning, roll the windows down and feel the cold air rush in and think about what would be if you died yesterday.
What would you miss? What open issues would have been left raw and unopen? Did you want that anger that's in your heart to always be there? Don't you wish you would have been proactive and brought more love into your heart? Do you wish that you were nicer to everyone? Whatever it is, it's such a beautiful and motivating thought. Picture your life energy, and again, soul, just gone and your body being a cold blue vessel with no life in it any longer.
How empowering is this?
I have begun in the last week to try to think of this when I get up, pouring my cereal in the morning. It's made a change in my life. I'm hitting the elliptical a lot, I'm going to the pool, I am reading my face off, I am reaching out to people I love and care about just to see what's going on. I try to make sure I let them know I love them or I appreciate them as much as possible. I have had a hard time staying busy, and now I am barely employed, but busy as shit.
The shift is new to me. A month ago I flaked out on going to see my Aunt and Uncle because I was having a shitty day. I've been flaking on J-Wags recently because my self-loathing has taken a stronger stance. The thought of "shit, what if I was dead....what if I died yesterday?" has motivated me a lot.
Sorry to sound preachy, but, I am trying to bring my fully loaded arsenal up to Buffalo with me in June so I can have the tools for whatever is thrown at me right away. I died. And now I am on this planet to be a loving, compassionate, and fun soul. There is not enough time post-death to go back and be un-mad at someone, so don't let it even get to that point while we're still here, we're all Bozos on the same fucked-up Bus.
I am proud that I can reflect on the events of a year ago now and almost smile. Being suicidal, I would appear to be ready for death. That's not the case though. Suicide, or suicidal thoughts in the way that I had them were to kill myself....but I didn't ever want to leave the world. It was a horrific way to live, for months and months I said I did want to leave this world -- it would ease the burden on everybody close to me. Outwardly those feelings and thoughts drove me into the hospital, thank God.
The death I wanted was the death to my life in Buffalo. That doesn't mean everything was bad, but, I think I've established what was bad in my life, how I had lost ME, and the sadness and self-hatred I had in myself. I wanted that killed, and I wanted it immediately.
The immediacy was a delusion, but obviously I was not in my right mind. The process turned slowly, and I am proud of the way I passed the time before leaving for Michigan in September. I re-discovered what I love about myself. I found that parts of me that I loved that had gone into the abyss as I worked 60 hours a week and fought the "supposed-tos."
I traveled a ton, I wrote, I read relentlessly, I played soccer, went to sporting events and great cities, and most importantly I surrounded myself with amazing people. I also found new people who I am so proud to have in my life now. You have made more of a difference in my life than you can imagine (one of you is related to Joey Liberta, and the other lives with mini-Janis Joplin). If we've grown closer in the past year, it's because I have been drawn to your soul. THAT in you that makes you human, and that in me that makes me human....soul.
I believe that we are all lost in one way or another. I am so proud of Danielle and Greg, two of my favorite people in the world, for having such an amazing baby, and Greg being such a great father. I joked about bringing the baby back down to Florida with me in January and Greg said "nooo, I would miss him too much!" and little D's reaction was exactly the same. To know Gnomey is to love him. The words "I don't like Gnome (or Griz)" have never, and will never be spoken. And the spirit of little D, I love that little kid. Best couple ever, and you don't have to look far past their parents to see why.
D&G seem the least lost, and most connected people I know. Connected to what? It's hard to quantify, but Elizabeth Lesser calls it "soul" and I think that's good.
At our core we all want to connect, we all want to love, and we all want those transcendent life experiences. The people I look up to, and strive to be, can make the mundane transcendent, and that lies in soul. We don't want to talk to someone on the subway, or in line at the bank and just say "hello, how are you" and have the conversation die two seconds after the words are said. In our core -- our soul -- we want to connect with our fellow person, our fellow soul well beyond the standard pleasantries.
You can prepare now for that scary death, the big D. Look at the way you deal with simple, less profound deaths in this world. A show you love finally runs out and it sucks, but, you get over it, you have the memories, and even sometimes the video (DVD) of that show and it's a celebration.
Profoundly a job loss can be seen as a death. Another in the line of many mini-deaths we all experience in life. You cope with it, and don't let it ruin you like it did me. Even if you have an incredibly hard time, don't forget the power of "this too shall pass."
These little death tests set us up to make us not have this horrifying relationship with ultimate death that many, many of us do.
Grief is totally and utterly acceptable, and it's beautiful to run with it. Flow in the water of the grief, don't swim against it. Grieve together, tell stories, and remember the love that was passed back and forth between yourself and whoever passed while they were alive. Imagine someone who dies as Jane or John Doe, and then think about how blessed you were and how blessed the deceased was to have been so loved in their time on this planet.
Your personal death is a different story, but the same ideas can apply. It all comes down to Love. Love breeds acceptance, full and whole-hearted acceptance. Why not wait for death as if it's a the eve of a trip that you'll be making abroad. We're all going somewhere, the miracle of this life (just think about the miracle of your heart), has to mean there is a higher power out there somewhere.
When you can get to realize that the negative conceptions we have about death, in all facets of our life, can be worked on, accepted and changed.....think about how much better life, day-to-day and second-to-second is going to be.
I hate country music, or as a famous 12-year old once said, "I dislike it greatly." Tim McGraw's song "Live Like you Were Dying" is close, but trite.
I propose living like you've already died. Imagine that! Imagine how great your life could be when you think that it's all gone. Meditate on it if you can...Meditation, I don't want to get into, but is simpler than it sounds. Driving to work early one morning, roll the windows down and feel the cold air rush in and think about what would be if you died yesterday.
What would you miss? What open issues would have been left raw and unopen? Did you want that anger that's in your heart to always be there? Don't you wish you would have been proactive and brought more love into your heart? Do you wish that you were nicer to everyone? Whatever it is, it's such a beautiful and motivating thought. Picture your life energy, and again, soul, just gone and your body being a cold blue vessel with no life in it any longer.
How empowering is this?
I have begun in the last week to try to think of this when I get up, pouring my cereal in the morning. It's made a change in my life. I'm hitting the elliptical a lot, I'm going to the pool, I am reading my face off, I am reaching out to people I love and care about just to see what's going on. I try to make sure I let them know I love them or I appreciate them as much as possible. I have had a hard time staying busy, and now I am barely employed, but busy as shit.
The shift is new to me. A month ago I flaked out on going to see my Aunt and Uncle because I was having a shitty day. I've been flaking on J-Wags recently because my self-loathing has taken a stronger stance. The thought of "shit, what if I was dead....what if I died yesterday?" has motivated me a lot.
Sorry to sound preachy, but, I am trying to bring my fully loaded arsenal up to Buffalo with me in June so I can have the tools for whatever is thrown at me right away. I died. And now I am on this planet to be a loving, compassionate, and fun soul. There is not enough time post-death to go back and be un-mad at someone, so don't let it even get to that point while we're still here, we're all Bozos on the same fucked-up Bus.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Inspired Late
I've stalled in my reading. Not that I'm not reading, but the subject matter in the book isn't exactly pertinent to me at this moment. It's getting into parenting with mindfulness. Ralph really doesn't have a brain, or free-will, so, I have nothing in the parenting department.
While I love the image and idea behind the Phoenix (the spirit gets burnt into the fire only to gather up ashes and begin anew, fresh, and hopefully more clear), it seems like a really long way to go to say, a lot of times shit falls apart for good reasons. Eventhough at the time, it hurts like hell, in the end - a month, a year, years, whatever, the whole beautifully put back together piece makes it so worth the hell. Believe me, there are too many stories of meaningful life changes coming from utter and horrendus tragedy and depression.
This gets me to relationships. YEAH. I spun out of control last year, more specifically, last summer. I took the pennant of selfishness, and the psycho-babble of "ya gotta be selfish" to mean, "fuck everybody else." Sadly that really, really hurt the person who is the most important part of my world (no, not Curtis Granderson).
I want to get this out, all before I get back home. There really isn't trepidation in me coming home for good in June, because it's on my terms, and OUR terms. That first day marks the last day before I went off on the deep end -- BUT, that's a dangerous way to look at it. If I view our first day together and settled in as that last day of happiness in February last year, I'm not going to wake up depressed, and if I do, I have so many tools and weapons ready and waiting to not let it devour me.
Please understand the importance of all I have gone through in the past year, and how it has shaped who you are going to know when I come home. If you judge me, we're done. If you want to take the time out and get to know what I am doing, and have a frank discussion with me about the past year -- awesome. There is NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING better for me then to talk it out with as many people as I can. It serves me so, so well, but it also, God forbid, provides a chance that if someone now hears what I dealt with, or how I dealt with it -- then maybe their suffering can be less because of it if they ever get that dark.
The WORST thing that can happen when I come home is to pretend it's day one and move on from there, June 1st. The past year cannot be ignored, but it can totally be embraced. Embrace it with me, because it's still going to be a work in progress.
I've had a lot of life experiences since leaving in September. I've grinded my way into a better understanding of myself, and what I value and who I want to be....but by no means is the game all done.
While I love the image and idea behind the Phoenix (the spirit gets burnt into the fire only to gather up ashes and begin anew, fresh, and hopefully more clear), it seems like a really long way to go to say, a lot of times shit falls apart for good reasons. Eventhough at the time, it hurts like hell, in the end - a month, a year, years, whatever, the whole beautifully put back together piece makes it so worth the hell. Believe me, there are too many stories of meaningful life changes coming from utter and horrendus tragedy and depression.
This gets me to relationships. YEAH. I spun out of control last year, more specifically, last summer. I took the pennant of selfishness, and the psycho-babble of "ya gotta be selfish" to mean, "fuck everybody else." Sadly that really, really hurt the person who is the most important part of my world (no, not Curtis Granderson).
I want to get this out, all before I get back home. There really isn't trepidation in me coming home for good in June, because it's on my terms, and OUR terms. That first day marks the last day before I went off on the deep end -- BUT, that's a dangerous way to look at it. If I view our first day together and settled in as that last day of happiness in February last year, I'm not going to wake up depressed, and if I do, I have so many tools and weapons ready and waiting to not let it devour me.
Please understand the importance of all I have gone through in the past year, and how it has shaped who you are going to know when I come home. If you judge me, we're done. If you want to take the time out and get to know what I am doing, and have a frank discussion with me about the past year -- awesome. There is NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING better for me then to talk it out with as many people as I can. It serves me so, so well, but it also, God forbid, provides a chance that if someone now hears what I dealt with, or how I dealt with it -- then maybe their suffering can be less because of it if they ever get that dark.
The WORST thing that can happen when I come home is to pretend it's day one and move on from there, June 1st. The past year cannot be ignored, but it can totally be embraced. Embrace it with me, because it's still going to be a work in progress.
I've had a lot of life experiences since leaving in September. I've grinded my way into a better understanding of myself, and what I value and who I want to be....but by no means is the game all done.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Ever....
Did you ever think of a song that you haven't heard in forever, and then it's on the overhead speakers at Target the next day? For me it's always remembering an episode of "Fresh Prince" or "The Cosby Show" and a week later I'll see the episode on television.
Upon the heels of my last post, kind of talking about those moments of being, those transcendent moments in your life that stick with you long past the mundane moments in your life, I came across this in reading Broken Open: How Difficult Times Help Us Grow by Elizabeth Lesser. She discussed seeing a very old friend, and the feeling in her soul during that meeting. The important thing here is the feeling, not the specifics of the meeting.
The chapter (the whole book is great) ends with this:
Now, nobody on this planet can be fully present and ego-less at all times. It just isn't the case. Being ego-less requires being present at all times...present with a capital P. And unless you are meditating in the Himalayas all day, every day, day-to-day life wants your ego to flare up all day long.
There is a positive side to ego (it shapes your likes and dislikes), but it also can lead to taking everything so damn personally. Hurt is only going to hurt more if you let ego dominate or define you. That's where I was with the depression. It didn't come out of nowhere. My ego sat up at the buffet and just tore through my depression, feasting on all of the negative thoughts about myself or about life. It kept eating and getting bigger to where it was ALL I did, and all I thought about. The negative side of ego was all I was. I lost all appreciation for the good, and I took everything so personally.
Everything was a failure, even if it wasn't. Successful work, making good money and being
happy? Failure.
A job where I worked with kids, got paid to go to the movies and the park and the zoo, etc...? One of the kids told me he wanted to grow up to be just like me...My thought of course was "no you don't"...Apparently that was all somehow a failure too.....EGO.
The balance comes with self-awareness. Self-awareness comes from mindfulness. When the negative side kicks in, and it will, laugh at it...I had a counselor who told me to say "fuck you" to it.
Upon the heels of my last post, kind of talking about those moments of being, those transcendent moments in your life that stick with you long past the mundane moments in your life, I came across this in reading Broken Open: How Difficult Times Help Us Grow by Elizabeth Lesser. She discussed seeing a very old friend, and the feeling in her soul during that meeting. The important thing here is the feeling, not the specifics of the meeting.
What ensued will go down in the record of my heart as one of those rare times in life when you finally rest -- when you put down the burden of striving and a sense of well-being spreads like honey into every corner of your consciousness. There was nowhere else to go, no one to be -- just now, just this precious day, these shared breaths with a friend.It's incredible timing on two counts. The NOW is touched upon, and also, "the burden of striving." In a way, the author capsulizes what I tried to in my last post. Those are the moments where you completely let go of ego, and fully live with presence.
The chapter (the whole book is great) ends with this:
The ego. The ego. It's like this wheelchair. It's a beautiful wheelchair. Use it. Enjoy it! Just don't think it's you. Don't take yourself so, so personally."What you should enjoy about your ego is what your ego has developed in you. Ego is what makes you special and different, it's what separates you from anyone else in the world. Think of how that can be good, and concentrate on that. But realize that it's not you. YOU lies somewhere underneath all that. YOU lies where soul and grace lie.
Now, nobody on this planet can be fully present and ego-less at all times. It just isn't the case. Being ego-less requires being present at all times...present with a capital P. And unless you are meditating in the Himalayas all day, every day, day-to-day life wants your ego to flare up all day long.
There is a positive side to ego (it shapes your likes and dislikes), but it also can lead to taking everything so damn personally. Hurt is only going to hurt more if you let ego dominate or define you. That's where I was with the depression. It didn't come out of nowhere. My ego sat up at the buffet and just tore through my depression, feasting on all of the negative thoughts about myself or about life. It kept eating and getting bigger to where it was ALL I did, and all I thought about. The negative side of ego was all I was. I lost all appreciation for the good, and I took everything so personally.
Everything was a failure, even if it wasn't. Successful work, making good money and being
happy? Failure.
A job where I worked with kids, got paid to go to the movies and the park and the zoo, etc...? One of the kids told me he wanted to grow up to be just like me...My thought of course was "no you don't"...Apparently that was all somehow a failure too.....EGO.
The balance comes with self-awareness. Self-awareness comes from mindfulness. When the negative side kicks in, and it will, laugh at it...I had a counselor who told me to say "fuck you" to it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Nick Adenhart
The tragedy of Angels pitcher Nick Adnehart's death is known by now (or you are clueless)....but the most chilling part of this is that the 22-year old felon who drunkenly drove through the red light and ended up killing Adenhart, along with two others, had his license suspended for a previous DUI conviction in California.
Adenhart could have been rookie of the year, Cy Young, All-Star, Hall of Famer...who knows? He had everything to live for and it was taken from him.
And I'm suicidal...or at least was? For what?
I think about how shattered everyone touched by this is and can see now, with clearer vision, what I would have done if I made the decision to go through with, ya know....I hate that I personalize a tragedy like this, but that's human nature.
Thoughts and prayers go out to SoCal, and Maryland, where Adenhart was from. Baseball people are the best people on the planet, and the Angels organization is one of the most well-run franchises in all of sports.
It makes me think of "supposed to" living though also...
You know what makes me happiest? Remembering what it felt like to come up the stairs of the London Underground and see what Harrod's and the west end of London looked like for the first time.
Driving into New York in July while the sun set in the rear view, leaving a purple sky as the back drop to the Manhattan skyline. There is that bend in the New Jersey turnpike when you come around and finally see it, and it's an amazing feeling. And then on top of it "New York State of Mind" by Billy Joel was on the radio. It was one of the best moments of my life.
The ferry back from Alcatraz after the sun had set. Seeing San Francisco at night, from the water, from the island.....Riding bikes across the Golden Gate bridge (seriously!). And knowing first-hand how amazing Sausalito is, let alone knowing what it is.
Sunday morning drives to Toronto to see random Blue Jays games with 107.1 (maybe 102.1?) psychedelic Sundays on the radio, or maybe a Teddy Pendergrass CD on in the car.
Dave Matthews Band at The Greek.
Magglio.
Rod Allen at Fenway, and the game when Pudge played second base at Fenway.
Our Lady Peace on the radio in the middle-nowhere, Missouri.
Getting kicked out of KU basketball practice at the Phog.
There's so much more.......I did all of this when I was "supposed to" be settling down and having kids, getting the career, etc....Not for a single fucking second would I even consider trading any one of those things in for the sedentary life....and when I did, briefly, it got me nowhere fast.
Adenhart could have been rookie of the year, Cy Young, All-Star, Hall of Famer...who knows? He had everything to live for and it was taken from him.
And I'm suicidal...or at least was? For what?
I think about how shattered everyone touched by this is and can see now, with clearer vision, what I would have done if I made the decision to go through with, ya know....I hate that I personalize a tragedy like this, but that's human nature.
Thoughts and prayers go out to SoCal, and Maryland, where Adenhart was from. Baseball people are the best people on the planet, and the Angels organization is one of the most well-run franchises in all of sports.
It makes me think of "supposed to" living though also...
You know what makes me happiest? Remembering what it felt like to come up the stairs of the London Underground and see what Harrod's and the west end of London looked like for the first time.
Driving into New York in July while the sun set in the rear view, leaving a purple sky as the back drop to the Manhattan skyline. There is that bend in the New Jersey turnpike when you come around and finally see it, and it's an amazing feeling. And then on top of it "New York State of Mind" by Billy Joel was on the radio. It was one of the best moments of my life.
The ferry back from Alcatraz after the sun had set. Seeing San Francisco at night, from the water, from the island.....Riding bikes across the Golden Gate bridge (seriously!). And knowing first-hand how amazing Sausalito is, let alone knowing what it is.
Sunday morning drives to Toronto to see random Blue Jays games with 107.1 (maybe 102.1?) psychedelic Sundays on the radio, or maybe a Teddy Pendergrass CD on in the car.
Dave Matthews Band at The Greek.
Magglio.
Rod Allen at Fenway, and the game when Pudge played second base at Fenway.
Our Lady Peace on the radio in the middle-nowhere, Missouri.
Getting kicked out of KU basketball practice at the Phog.
There's so much more.......I did all of this when I was "supposed to" be settling down and having kids, getting the career, etc....Not for a single fucking second would I even consider trading any one of those things in for the sedentary life....and when I did, briefly, it got me nowhere fast.
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