Stream of Subconsciousness

I can't sleep -- stunner. There is so much spinning in my head, it's really ridiculous. Dad's still in the hospital, Kristin is looking at houses as I sit here 1,200 miles away, and I feel like inspiration is being sucked out of me every second of the day while I sit in the hospital for really no damn good reason other than making sure they don't kill the big man. It's especially fun considering I was in the hospital exactly a year ago myself -- HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!

After going through all of this with Dad, I'm starting to have a hard time with the whole "wow, this puts everything into perspective" cliche that comes out of tragedy. I hope and pray that for other people who need it, a lesson comes out of this, but to me it is what it is. It doesn't put anything into perspective, besides teaching me to never have surgery at Lakeland Regional Medical Center.

Perspective has never been what I've needed through all of this. Loss, or the threat of loss, should never put things into perspective....because what does that even mean? If this kind of thing prompts you to want to change the way you do things, the way you appreciate people, or keep them in your life, then, you have the problem, and had it long before anyone stepped foot into a hospital.

Everybody knows that when you tear it all down it's about yourself. Deep down I believe everybody knows that, or feels that somewhere in their soul. Even when I was swept up into working all of the time, I carried with me the knowledge that it could all go away in a breath. I used to sit in the grass on sunny Saturday afternoons when I worked with the kids, and just see the un-filtered joy on their faces. On the same face, a minute later, the unimaginable struggle that kids with special needs go through shows up. That's real suffering, yet through it all, these kids smiled and laughed a lot more often than anyone else I spent time with any given week.

Anyways, I beat the shit out of myself about a lot of this. How could I have been so stupid to lose focus, etc...but I never really did. I don't want to have the depression and everything be a line of demarcation...like, on this side, the post-hospitalization side, is the good Kev, and before that I was total shit. It's not true. I got sick, just as someone who broke a limb and had part of their life altered for an extended period of time. My thoughts we altered...and not they're back, only with the appreciation for life, and how I truly revel in it most days.

The Kevin that existed before the spring of 2008 loved the hell out of life too though....I'm still trying to wrap my head around how I can be better with life and not let change overwhelm me - I think that's IT. I think I need a life coach or something, because I've always been a happy person, passionate, and good-natured....Change has always thrown me off the track. This isn't a massive crisis of faith, where I was miserable to people, and zombied my way through every day of my life. On the contrary, I tried hard, every day, to laugh and not take shit too seriously. Sometimes at inappropriate times. But I have passions, and they were the same passions I had pre-crisis. I love the same things I loved before, and the same people who I loved before.

I went off the rails and I still have fears and on bad days visulaize not being part of this world -- but I have the tools to flush that out of my head nearly immediately. None of my fears involve the fear of eventual regret though, and that's what I've been thinking a lot about with my Dad. Mortality is a mother fucker!

I think about how if the worst-case scenario happened, there's nothing I would regret in regards to my Dad...I don't feel like I have I have any unfinished business. When you live for the moment, and in the NOW, there isn't regret. It's just peaceful, and amazing. The funnest thing about it though? You get to let the judgment and negativity of others wash over you, and sometimes to view it as an observer is funny as hell. It's frustrating, but, we aren't here to correct other people and set them on the right path -- we can only be true to ourselves. "There but for the grace of God go I."

Life Tests

Life just tries people more than it does others. Fair or unfair, it does, and I feel like I've had my fair share since last May. Seriously when you hear a surgeon say your dad "is very sick -- he may not make it" exactly one year from when I was hospitalized -- not the greatest couple of days.

But it has done something amazing. It brought the family together....All five of my Dads kids (including me) were together today, and it's amazing. It's magic. I hadn't seen my sister, Debbie, in so long that we really were talking decades, couldn't remember if it was late 80's or early 90's.

At least in my head, and from my perspective, I didn't feel any unease. It was like a click from the start. We were all exhausted physically, and emotionally, but we all came together and it felt really, really good. I don't know the words to use to express how it felt, and it was a physical sensation, it was just right.

And that's a testament to my Dad. I think it's safe to say that my Dad is my hero -- my brother Russ' hero, and also my sisters Debbie and Wendy's best friend. It's been a long line of pain through my life. But through it all, good, bad, negative, screaming matches, great road trips, there has been Big Russ. If we needed something (I have too much foolish pride to ask), not even a split-second of doubt -- he'd be there, or take care of it as well as he could.

If we take nothing else from this experience, this hellish experience (especially Monday), it's that my Dad's wry sense of humor and over-the-top personality has seeped into every single one of us. It's just all about the importance of smiling and laughing. Through crisis, lessons abound. Through this I am experiencing some deeper self-realizations.

Spending all day in the hospital rules.

My Worry

Relapse.

It happens to a lot. Just over the majority of people who have had a depressive episode in their lives will have another. And while it's a lot like when someone gets a DWI or arrested for say, umm, throwing an ashtray, where they (I) behave(d) for a while, but eventually fell into their (my) normal routines again...That's where I am at. It has nothing to do with Buffalo. It has everything to do with me. I can work hard at it every day, but, it's absolutely beyond my control. That's a really weird place to be. I think of The Benjy Davis Project song "The Rain" here, when I think about how you can try to have all the control in the world, but in the end none of us really have any....

The cognition that it could happen despite my best work does oddly help a lot though. Like recalling the scenes of the depression, I will do whatever it takes, anything that is within my control, to reign things in so what happened never happens again. It's like, again, my experience getting arrested. It scared the crap out of me. Wake up in a jail cell...not fun. Since then, 2003, I can count on one hand how many times I have been drunk at a bar, because in the end, the risk of having what happened happen again, waking up at the Erie County Holding Center, isn't worth it.

That's what makes the sacrifice down here worth it all in the end. It's the hardest thing imaginable to say good-bye repeatedly, for months on end, to people I love. I know to most people on the outside looking in, working on me seems like this convenient excuse to be lazy and have a six month vacation. Yeah, it's not. It's lonely down here for me, but the loneliness has afforded me such a phenomenal chance to get things right from afar. It feels like a really, really long (and sunny and hot) study hall for me, and as long as I keep in mind the work, the "study" part of it, then I'll be fine.

A lot of the fun things I have done, like the ridiculous past week of two Amos Lee concerts, the Magic/Celtics game, Cocoa Beach, etc...it's incredible, but, it is work, and a huge signifier of progress made for me. One of the first criteria they look for in diagnosing depression is loss of joy in things that usually bring you joy. If that lasts longer than two weeks, than you've taken a huge step in figuring out what's wrong with you....congratulations I guess?

Anyways, that was me. I sat at a Bisons game on a Thursday afternoon (and if you know anything about me, I love baseball, and Bisons games, more than anything). I was with my Dad and Kristin, and I cried the entire game. I sat in my seat with my arms crossed and my hat down over my eyes, speechless, with tears running down my face all nine innings. I could have been anywhere in the world right then and there, and it would not have mattered.

So, at the Magic game, and at the beach, and at the concerts, I was me again, only moreso. I had a phenomenal time, but also, I used a lot of what I have taken in through this process to further my experiences. Mindfulness goes a long way into bringing you back down, and calming you when things do get heavy. It's also an amazingly beautiful thing that, if you can practice and do well in, can make everything good in life just that much more enjoyable. Mindfulness really does escalate the joyful moments in your life.

You all do it too, and just don't know it. There are moments in every single one of you out there's days when mindfulness is fully engaged. Rolling to (or more likely, from) work just totally engaged in a song, rocking out on your steering wheel at 8:15 AM...you are there at that very moment. Let me not judge the music here -- if you're going hard to Toby Keith on your way into work, or fully lost in watching the Mets blow another lead....that's IT.

Where we need to get (yeah, I am taking on all of the world's ills right now) is to a point where most people on this planet can realize and appreciate those moments...and live in them a lot more frequently. When you have a person-to-person interaction during the day with someone who you genuinely like -- bang -- there's mindfulness again. I think a lot about great weekends, and great memories, and how truly in the moment I was at those times. It can be that simple.

Look at kids and you'll find it all. My little niece (no offense if you have a funny niece) is flat out the funniest seven year old on the entire planet...If they had "Last Comic Standing" for second graders, they'd stop the show once she auditioned and just hand her the gig. For me, it's amazing now to go home and put myself in a place where I can watch her at her best, and even at her worst. No matter what (but she is a lot more awesome in the good moments), she is in the now, in the current moment.

When she is jumping rope, do you know what she's thinking about at that moment? JUMPING ROPE. When she's doing her homework, guess what; she's only thinking about doing her homework (or, goofing around with me while doing her homework). Regardless, she is as in the moment as anybody could ever want to be.

Where and when do we lose that? I understand practical matters are relevant, but, they are only as relevant as our egos let them be. Your ego feeds off of judgment, pressure and negativity from others in the form of that ambiguous label of "cultural norms." Simply said, fuck "cultural norms." Do what makes you happy, be present in each moment, and you're there. It sounds so simple, and I know it is truth, so why is it so damn hard?

I Need Africa More Than Africa Needs Me...

From Mochaclub.org

When I think of Africa, the following images immediately come to mind: Starvation. AIDS. Child soldiers. Genocide. Sex slaves. Orphans. From there, my thoughts naturally turn to how I can help, how I can make a difference. "I am needed here," I think. "They have so little, and I have so much." It's true, there are great tragedies playing out in Africa everyday. There is often a level of suffering here that is unimaginable until you have seen it, and even then it is difficult to believe. But what is even harder is reconciling the challenges that many Africans face with the joy I see in those same people. It's a joy that comes from somewhere I cannot fathom, not within the framework that has been my life to this day.

The images spilling out of my television showed circumstances that could seemingly only equal misery, and I was fooled. I bought into the lie that circumstance defines happiness. The truth is, in Africa I find hearts full of victory, indomitable spirits. In places where despair should thrive, instead I find adults dancing and singing, and children playing soccer with a ball crafted of tied up trash. Instead of payback, I find grace. Here, weekend getaways are not options to provide relief from the pains of daily life. Relationships and faith provide joy. Love is sovereign.

My new reality… I know now that my joy should have no regard for my circumstances. I'm ashamed by my lack of faith, but at the very same moment I am excited by my new pursuit. I'm forced to redefine the meaning of having much or having little. I'm uneasy with the prospect of change and of letting go, but just the thought of freedom is liberating. I want what I have learned to trickle down from my head into my heart - I no longer want to need the "next thing" to have joy.

I'm not saying that Africa does not need our efforts. It absolutely does need our partnership. But for me, I've come to understand that I NEED AFRICA MORE THAN AFRICA NEEDS ME. Why? Because it is Africa that has taught me that possessions in my hands will never be as valuable as peace in my heart. I've learned that I don't need what I have and that I have what I need. These are just a few of this continent's many lessons. I came here to serve and yet I've found that I have so much to learn, and Africa, with all its need, has much to teach me.

Kindergarten Philosophy

That word -- PHILOSOPHY -- has such odd, and varied connotations. You think of Aristotle and Socrates, to Freud's philosophies, down to good old baseball, and different pitching coaches having different pitching "philosophies." I think I have a sneaker "philosophy" -- green and gold track shoes look really cool, but they serve no functional purpose, unless you are in fact on the track team at a school whose colors are green and gold. NOT PRACTICAL OTHERWISE.

<---- yep, worn 'em once

To a lot of folks, philosophy is a heady word, tied to arrogance, or the literati. To many, philosophy is an ancient study of "what's the secret of life?" and is archaic, pointless thinking. It can be very profound and heady, getting into scientific philosophy, string theory, alternate universes, the concept that there has always been someTHING...

It can also be so simple, and fun, and easily applied to your life if you just practice -- yeah, that's right "we're talking about practice." For me it's simple lines that I have up around my living space. "Be a light unto yourself," "You can't control the waves, but you can learn to surf," or "Affecting the quality of the day is the highest of the arts." Non-philosophically, if I find myself judging, or just in a shitty mood, having a shitty day, I sit and focus on my breathing for a little bit. It works, and it's easy. It's like a chance to sit alone for three minutes, close your eyes, breathe and wake up to a day that is nothing like the one you were having before you closed your eyes.

I read something today in Martha Beck's Finding Your Own North Star, that, like an old professor always told me that I did in my papers, brought it all back down to earth (as Dr. Harrington pointed her palms towards the ground and brought them down together...ya know, the old, alright, slow it down, bring it down a little sign). My papers never got t0o scholarly, I always tried to apply Proust or Flaubert to modern situations...the hard part was finding scholarly material when my papers always ran along something like "Madame Bovery in 20th Century America." ANYWAYS, yeah, Martha Beck (channeling Dr. Harrington) "brings it down to here."

The hang-up with me coming home (the 716) and getting through this all in general (suicidal depression and self-hatred -- good times) has remained "other people." It just is my Waterloo, as much as I don't want it to be...and I kind of found such a simple answer to that in Mrs. Beck's words (the book needs to be read by any literate person on the planet btw) she says:

You never hear about truly self-actualized people, like Buddha or Christ, telling other people they're stupid losers. It goes against the nature of enlightenment. On the contrary, people who exemplify truth are always turning up in the lives of "stupid losers" and telling them that they're priceless and beloved, that their essential nature is literally divine and that they are destined to joy and fulfillment.

It's so true, and even without the book, I have grown into loving people who I feel incredibly at ease with, and flushed out people who are so attached to their negative pain bodies...but this shines it in such a common sense light. I have had so many people who I love, probably anyone who is reading this, step up and say such amazing things to me in the past year, and my inner response is ("yeah, OK...if you only knew what a piece of shit I am" or the lovely "you don't even mean that.")

I am the "stupid loser" (as Beck uses it, I don't think I am a stupid loser -- anymore), and you guys have been the exemplifiers of truth and love, popping up and telling me I am loved...but through the fog of depression, I never saw or appreciated it. Well, I am slowly rubbing my eyes and seeing it so much clearer now. I love you all for saying any of those things to me, they do mean so much, though I am terrible at accepting your love and belief in me -- but I'll get there....soon I hope.

It's great too, because I love writing in books, and highlighting (so does Jennifer Love Hewitt by the way -- just in case you were wondering) -- so how good is a book that actually questions you and makes you take quizzes and self-inventories? It's like Mr. Riccardi asking us to take out our workbooks in seventh grade.

The lists are amazing little tools to kind of circle around your core, and make you look in at yourself doing an "aha!" moment when you say "ohhhhhhh, I see what you're doing here lady!" It's put a lot of what has happened in the past into a much more understanding context, and helped me re-think some things and judgments I have made about some people who are very, very close to me. And -- I get to use my pen on the inside of a book -- soooo naughty.

I don't love everybody, even if other people want me to. I'll end with this from her:

That feeling of choked hostility, or numb depression, or nauseated helplessness is a sure sign you're steering away from your North Star, toward a life you were not meant to live. When you feel it, you must change course. You must say to the people around you what your essential self is saying inside: "Nope. Not going there. Not doing that. Sorry, but the answer is no."Or I guess

I could just continue to say yes, and let them beat me down so I can ebb and flow through depression for the rest of my life.......HMMMMM, that's a really tough decision....