“...There is nothing outside of yourself that can ever enable you to get better, stronger, richer, quicker, or smarter. Everything is within. Everything exists. Seek nothing outside of yourself.”
― Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings
Once you delve into the dark places of the mind and soul the only way to see the truth is if you bring your own light.
When I left Missoula, MT, at the end of September 2015 to drive to Seattle so I could catch a plane to Germany for the Bundestag NSA Investigation, I had thought that would be the last time I would see the place of my birth. I left in a flurry and in a fury, having been evicted from the relative safety of my mother's apartment because her neighbors had complained about my dog being too big. A strange thing happened as I was leaving the neighborhood is that the power went out and the darkness chased me away.
I drove all through the night only stopping to get petrol and letting my dog get some exercise to answer natures call. Both times we stopped he was scared back into the car by something hidden in the darkness. I didn't question him and sped away to Seattle proper to a hiding place at a friend's house. While I waited to drop off my beast at another friend's place three days later, she left me alone to go stay with her boyfriend. I had a lot of thinking to do and no distractions.
Before heading out to Germany, I visited a shaman that had previously guided me in journeys in understanding and healing my spirit, but this time, he helped me prepare to die. I had already dropped off my dog and dedicated three more days to meditation and journeying. I embraced the sorrow and fear that this would be my final act of defiance. I prayed and asked my ancestors to let me speak the truth fully from my heart. I thanked the dead that had followed me since my accident three years previous for letting me honor them and for giving me the strength to overcome what had seemed the impossible. Finally, I sought harmony with Gaia and the universe for giving me the opportunity to change my Fate.
As I meditated I let go of my past mistakes, one by one. I forgave those that hurt me, because I grew wiser and stronger from it, and I prayed that those that I had hurt would one day be able to see and forgive me. I thought about Project RED HAND, my failed brainchild to try and set up a foundation for those that seek to speak the truth and help the general populace understand the nature of what we, who have bloodied our hands, have done through our eyes and hearts. It had helped me hold on to the idea that I could make a solid change in the world. It gave me something to pour my heartache into and delve into the pain. It was my mantra, my meditation, my life's blood. And I let that go hoping that since the seeds didn't sprout for me, maybe they would sprout for somebody else. Blood doesn't make a good fertilizer.
I dwelled on my dreams. In my dream journeys I had met beings who claimed to be gods, demons, the Three Fates. I had seen the creation of universes, the dying of stars. I had traveled to the edge of the void and peered into the abyss and knew it looked back at me. I had met Death herself, she embraced me as a lover would and comforted my despair. With my Shaman I had stood in front of the entire Assembly of my Ancestors and relived my life, seen the pain that I had experienced and that I had given to others. I had felt their judgement, but never their scorn. They loved me, reminded me of that, and told me that the only person that needed to forgive me was myself. That I had judged myself harsher than anyone ever could, because I knew myself. By the time those three days were over, I was ready. I had sharpened my mind as a blade, with the knowledge that I had gathered. I was formidably armed, making my final stand. I was ready.
13 July 2017
Chasing Love and Revelation: A Reflection Part IV
"There is only one thing that I dread: not to be worthy of my sufferings."
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
I recently came across the above quote while reading Viktor E. Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. At the VA Hospital where I am currently, the head of the psychology department gave me her copy and asked me to read it. I got halfway through it before I gave it back to her and bought it on my kindle so I could keep the highlights for reference.
I'm amazed that this book hasn't come across my path before this. It's once again, if I had read this a year ago, two years ago, I'm sure my current situation wouldn't be in as dire straits. It seems that the universe has this tendency to give me the test first and the lesson afterwards. And maybe, just maybe, the experience is what makes the lessons stick.
I'm amazed that this book hasn't come across my path before this. It's once again, if I had read this a year ago, two years ago, I'm sure my current situation wouldn't be in as dire straits. It seems that the universe has this tendency to give me the test first and the lesson afterwards. And maybe, just maybe, the experience is what makes the lessons stick.
Most of my adult life has either been ran by desperation, guilt, or shame. Usually a mix of all three. In the USAF, my heart had been subject to ridicule, my desperation to fit in led to my shame, and the guilt of what I had done pressed as a mountain of weight upon my soul. However, through most of that I kept my faith in the Christian god and the silly mantra of "carrying my cross" got me through many things that would have otherwise been impossible. I should have remembered that sometimes silly things are true.
In Frankl's book, he talks about his experiences as a prisoner who experienced life in the Nazi concentration camps as a psychologist. He even mentions that many of the things he remembers is due to an strange clinical interest, and credits his survival not only to luck but his training as well. I find that the soldier's life and a prisoner's life are strangely similar. That if one truly gets down to it, both are trapped by ideology, have their humanity broken, and ultimately seek escape from reality in some form or another. Though I know many atheists that come from the military or that have served, if they were to continue their own search for something greater than themselves, I'm sure they'd have a better understanding of the spiritual path than most.
In Frankl's book, he talks about his experiences as a prisoner who experienced life in the Nazi concentration camps as a psychologist. He even mentions that many of the things he remembers is due to an strange clinical interest, and credits his survival not only to luck but his training as well. I find that the soldier's life and a prisoner's life are strangely similar. That if one truly gets down to it, both are trapped by ideology, have their humanity broken, and ultimately seek escape from reality in some form or another. Though I know many atheists that come from the military or that have served, if they were to continue their own search for something greater than themselves, I'm sure they'd have a better understanding of the spiritual path than most.
My escape from the drone program liberated me. I was no longer subject to the whims of those that have been disconnected from their humanity. Where those that sit behind the screen experience the life of war through a digital lens and forget the cost of living. When I got into the Reserves, I told them that I would only participate if they got me into the SERE program. I had met some of the Guardian Angel Weapon System's brood and I had felt that after my disappointment in the Drone program, I could rebuild my confidence in myself and my country by finally getting my hands dirty without having to place myself in a position to take another's life unless absolutely necessary.
When I got injured shortly after I started the official indoctrination, the head of the program gave me the opportunity to come back after I had gotten better. When I got back to my Reserves squadron, where I should have gotten medical help, they simply kicked me to the curb and told me to take care of myself, then placed me inactive instead of giving me my medical discharge. Since then I've had to fight for my medical care. And that has been humiliating in itself.
From the moment of my accident, time seemed to stop flowing normally. After my dead appeared to me, I was trapped in a continuous loop of memory. Whenever I'd closed my eyes everything would be in infrared and I could no longer tell you where I was. I'd re-experience my events as if they were new, though I would know the outcome. It was as if Nietzsche's Allegory of the Demon was a literal thing, though it wasn't a demon that held me prisoner of my thoughts, it was my trauma. A more real demon in itself.
From the moment of my accident, time seemed to stop flowing normally. After my dead appeared to me, I was trapped in a continuous loop of memory. Whenever I'd closed my eyes everything would be in infrared and I could no longer tell you where I was. I'd re-experience my events as if they were new, though I would know the outcome. It was as if Nietzsche's Allegory of the Demon was a literal thing, though it wasn't a demon that held me prisoner of my thoughts, it was my trauma. A more real demon in itself.
When I met Nicola Abe who wrote the Der Spiegel article concerning drones that appeared 14 December 2012, I was trapped in that loop and barely knew what I was truly experiencing. I was in multiple places and times at once. But when the article came out on the 17th in English, where I had envisioned that the American people would see and my compatriots would be heard, and we, as a people, would join in to stop the horrific processes that we were participating in.... all the world crashed into one bright moment of rage. Four days Later, I would start to Awaken.
I was over at my best friend's house getting ready to play some Dungeons & Dragons. I had spent the previous days fighting with the VA, having traveled 8 hours for them to fuck up my neuropsyche appointments, with no food or money, and having to travel back home empty handed. When I wasn't dealing with the VA, I was fighting with anonymous people online who claimed to have known me in the service and doing my best to defend myself against their stupidity. If I could get any angrier I would have turned large and green.
My buddy must have seen that I needed to calm down, so he made a marijuana joint and handed it to me. I had never smoked before. He told me to go outside and smoke the whole thing. When I came back in, the world was a better place and I had probably the most fun I could remember in a long time. While that night eased my transition into the waking world, I now had more to contend with than I had ever thought possible. I was now against the people and the government that I loved, and it was because I followed the training and belief system that they gave me.
My faith, however, was dead. God had abandoned me to this hell but even a soldier has his duty when all seemed lost. I had my dreams taken from me, my hopes, my health. The MRSA infection that I had gotten at the San Antonio Military Medical Center nearly killed me twice, and because I was susceptible to it, I wasn't sure when it would finally end me. I had nothing else, so I decided to fight until the bitter end.
Six months after the Der Spiegel article, Edward Snowden made his appearance. Which probably saved my hide by redirecting a ton of angst his way. Though the attention that I was receiving was both good and bad (you'd be surprised at how many people have wanted to hook up with me, men and women), I ignored anything but the negative. I was scared to get into a Julian Assange situation so I abstained from sex for over two years. Since I had lost almost all of my friends and pretty much been excommunicated from my family, I had no other distractions. Though I eventually fell into the trap of excessive video gaming to distract me from the pain and depression of loneliness, I was constantly wondering when my time would be up.
I wasn't hiding from anyone. The threats I had been receiving were almost daily, mostly from fellow veterans and Christian conservatives. I was coaching wrestling at one of the local high schools, though that ended because one of the parents went to the school faculty and claimed that I was a "traitor to the country," and because I wasn't christian I was a danger to her children. Life just fell apart and kept falling apart.
Then I connected with a couple of veterans who claimed to be on my side and agree with me. They were bitter and angry as well, and I could preach from my heart and not have to worry about judgement or disagreement. It was then that I had my first experience with MDMA, and I mistook the feelings that generated for love. That experience ended in massive betrayal.
One of the veterans that I spent time with was a woman. And while we did connect, she had been involved with another woman, and I was busy fighting my own fight. We hung out with strippers and people that lived in the grey area of society. I mention the strippers because they told me that for them it was a form of empowerment, they were in absolute control in a safe setting. And I became friends with quiet a few of them, probably because I never made a move or tried anything. They felt safe with me because of my issues with intimacy and closeness, and I learned that they are human beings like myself, struggling with life every day in their own way.
In February 2014, I had gotten the idea to do a male amateur night veteran fund raiser at the local strip joint. Everyone thought it was a good idea, but I was the only one that actually went through with it. Since the VA was snubbing me I needed a way to make money to pay bills. I made $800 that night for shaking daddy's little money maker. Then they hired me to do bachelorette parties around the Pacific Northwest. For me, it wasn't about the sex, it was about taking control of my sexuality. In a way it was me combating the women who took my choice of giving myself away, the ones who abused my innocence. I never crossed the line with anyone, though I was solicited more than a few times, and once by the bride herself. I was in control, and I denied them any gratification in taking any from me. It cost me money a few times. But in a weird way it was my control that mattered. Now I can laugh at the absurdity of what I had to do before the VA finally came through.
***
I mention all of this because during this time I was traveling back and forth to Europe, I had spoken in front of the UN, and done a ton of other things, but my personal life was a mess. An absolute mess. The female veteran that I had fallen "in love" with under the influence of drugs destroyed me, but I still had my duty. And even then, fighting against those artificially developed processes had been an uphill battle. I was only able to get through it because of my ability to forgive, otherwise the madness of anger would have destroyed everything else about me. I had been foolish to let myself be vulnerable to that degree. My nightmares were also getting worse because I was speaking about my experiences all the time. But again, I had believed in my duty so much, that I had deserved that pain and sorrow, I could make it through. I had my reason why for the how.
In March 2015, I ended up with another girl, but this time was entirely selfish. I was being stalked by some people and I had felt the need to get out of Missoula, so I went to another State and city entirely. I met this girl on a dating site, stayed at her place for a few weeks, and ended up getting called by the FBI wondering where I was at. They had told me that I wasn't in trouble and that I shouldn't tell anyone that they called me. So I called my lawyer as soon as I got off the phone with them.
With that event the girl realized what she had gotten into and whatever we could have had fell apart. It didn't affect me, other than I felt guilty for using her, and so I was on my way back to Missoula shortly thereafter. This was April of 2015.
When I got back to Missoula, I had an warrant for my arrest. Back in December of 2014, I was walking my dog when he went up to greet a small chihuahua, and the small dog bit through his lip. The guy kicked my dog in the head, then proceeded to scream at me and try to pick a fight with me. He then reported me to the police for "beating my dog" got his neighbors to also give reports, and nearly got me thrown in prison for 6 months, according to the Judge. The only thing that saved me was the security video footage. My public defense attorney disappeared without a trace, gave me the wrong dates to show up to court, which got me the warrant. I ended up standing up for myself and somehow getting the prosecution to agree for a deferment (he was determined to put me behind bars because he "knew" i was guilty and the judge told me that being a Veteran with PTSD is just an excuse that weak men make), then left for Germany to testify to the German Bundestag. I was supposed to go earlier, but they had to delay it because I couldn't leave the county without handling this.
And I did it all on my own. Thirty minutes after we leave the courthouse, I take my dog to the dog park and he gets attacked again. I had to take him to the hospital because his front leg got tore up, and the dog/owner that did it disappeared immediately after it happened. It's almost like somebody was trying to fuck with me and delay my testimony.
I was over at my best friend's house getting ready to play some Dungeons & Dragons. I had spent the previous days fighting with the VA, having traveled 8 hours for them to fuck up my neuropsyche appointments, with no food or money, and having to travel back home empty handed. When I wasn't dealing with the VA, I was fighting with anonymous people online who claimed to have known me in the service and doing my best to defend myself against their stupidity. If I could get any angrier I would have turned large and green.
My buddy must have seen that I needed to calm down, so he made a marijuana joint and handed it to me. I had never smoked before. He told me to go outside and smoke the whole thing. When I came back in, the world was a better place and I had probably the most fun I could remember in a long time. While that night eased my transition into the waking world, I now had more to contend with than I had ever thought possible. I was now against the people and the government that I loved, and it was because I followed the training and belief system that they gave me.
My faith, however, was dead. God had abandoned me to this hell but even a soldier has his duty when all seemed lost. I had my dreams taken from me, my hopes, my health. The MRSA infection that I had gotten at the San Antonio Military Medical Center nearly killed me twice, and because I was susceptible to it, I wasn't sure when it would finally end me. I had nothing else, so I decided to fight until the bitter end.
Six months after the Der Spiegel article, Edward Snowden made his appearance. Which probably saved my hide by redirecting a ton of angst his way. Though the attention that I was receiving was both good and bad (you'd be surprised at how many people have wanted to hook up with me, men and women), I ignored anything but the negative. I was scared to get into a Julian Assange situation so I abstained from sex for over two years. Since I had lost almost all of my friends and pretty much been excommunicated from my family, I had no other distractions. Though I eventually fell into the trap of excessive video gaming to distract me from the pain and depression of loneliness, I was constantly wondering when my time would be up.
I wasn't hiding from anyone. The threats I had been receiving were almost daily, mostly from fellow veterans and Christian conservatives. I was coaching wrestling at one of the local high schools, though that ended because one of the parents went to the school faculty and claimed that I was a "traitor to the country," and because I wasn't christian I was a danger to her children. Life just fell apart and kept falling apart.
Then I connected with a couple of veterans who claimed to be on my side and agree with me. They were bitter and angry as well, and I could preach from my heart and not have to worry about judgement or disagreement. It was then that I had my first experience with MDMA, and I mistook the feelings that generated for love. That experience ended in massive betrayal.
One of the veterans that I spent time with was a woman. And while we did connect, she had been involved with another woman, and I was busy fighting my own fight. We hung out with strippers and people that lived in the grey area of society. I mention the strippers because they told me that for them it was a form of empowerment, they were in absolute control in a safe setting. And I became friends with quiet a few of them, probably because I never made a move or tried anything. They felt safe with me because of my issues with intimacy and closeness, and I learned that they are human beings like myself, struggling with life every day in their own way.
In February 2014, I had gotten the idea to do a male amateur night veteran fund raiser at the local strip joint. Everyone thought it was a good idea, but I was the only one that actually went through with it. Since the VA was snubbing me I needed a way to make money to pay bills. I made $800 that night for shaking daddy's little money maker. Then they hired me to do bachelorette parties around the Pacific Northwest. For me, it wasn't about the sex, it was about taking control of my sexuality. In a way it was me combating the women who took my choice of giving myself away, the ones who abused my innocence. I never crossed the line with anyone, though I was solicited more than a few times, and once by the bride herself. I was in control, and I denied them any gratification in taking any from me. It cost me money a few times. But in a weird way it was my control that mattered. Now I can laugh at the absurdity of what I had to do before the VA finally came through.
***
I mention all of this because during this time I was traveling back and forth to Europe, I had spoken in front of the UN, and done a ton of other things, but my personal life was a mess. An absolute mess. The female veteran that I had fallen "in love" with under the influence of drugs destroyed me, but I still had my duty. And even then, fighting against those artificially developed processes had been an uphill battle. I was only able to get through it because of my ability to forgive, otherwise the madness of anger would have destroyed everything else about me. I had been foolish to let myself be vulnerable to that degree. My nightmares were also getting worse because I was speaking about my experiences all the time. But again, I had believed in my duty so much, that I had deserved that pain and sorrow, I could make it through. I had my reason why for the how.
In March 2015, I ended up with another girl, but this time was entirely selfish. I was being stalked by some people and I had felt the need to get out of Missoula, so I went to another State and city entirely. I met this girl on a dating site, stayed at her place for a few weeks, and ended up getting called by the FBI wondering where I was at. They had told me that I wasn't in trouble and that I shouldn't tell anyone that they called me. So I called my lawyer as soon as I got off the phone with them.
With that event the girl realized what she had gotten into and whatever we could have had fell apart. It didn't affect me, other than I felt guilty for using her, and so I was on my way back to Missoula shortly thereafter. This was April of 2015.
When I got back to Missoula, I had an warrant for my arrest. Back in December of 2014, I was walking my dog when he went up to greet a small chihuahua, and the small dog bit through his lip. The guy kicked my dog in the head, then proceeded to scream at me and try to pick a fight with me. He then reported me to the police for "beating my dog" got his neighbors to also give reports, and nearly got me thrown in prison for 6 months, according to the Judge. The only thing that saved me was the security video footage. My public defense attorney disappeared without a trace, gave me the wrong dates to show up to court, which got me the warrant. I ended up standing up for myself and somehow getting the prosecution to agree for a deferment (he was determined to put me behind bars because he "knew" i was guilty and the judge told me that being a Veteran with PTSD is just an excuse that weak men make), then left for Germany to testify to the German Bundestag. I was supposed to go earlier, but they had to delay it because I couldn't leave the county without handling this.
And I did it all on my own. Thirty minutes after we leave the courthouse, I take my dog to the dog park and he gets attacked again. I had to take him to the hospital because his front leg got tore up, and the dog/owner that did it disappeared immediately after it happened. It's almost like somebody was trying to fuck with me and delay my testimony.
***
As we get closer and closer to the end, should we ask ourselves: To what is this ending worth?
As we get closer and closer to the end, should we ask ourselves: To what is this ending worth?
11 July 2017
Chasing Love and Revelations: A Reflection Part III
"The Light shines in the Darkness and the Darkness cannot overcome it."
-John 1:5
If you go into a dark room with a candle, the darkness gets pushed away. The shadows come alive to dance. But you cannot enter a room filled with light and bring darkness with you. Not any way that is natural.
I've talked with people all over the world about my story. It is dark, lonely, demanding, disorientating. In those conditions I have thrived, not because I have lived in darkness, but because I had brought my own light. When the sun had set and the moon is new and the stars are lost behind the clouds, I have used my intuition and my upbringing to guide me forward. Towards what end, I don't know, it's not the destination that matters. Every road leads to home.
For me that Light has always been honor, integrity, and love. I want to share these ideas with you. I use a Biblical quote up top because it's true, no matter what the source, and my original source for my spirit was my Great Grandfather. He taught me not just through words but through actions, and while I've fought many a monster, inside and outside, I always rely on his teachings as a platform for how I want to conduct my own life.
The Buddha also says, “Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the single candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” I've been in a VA inpatient treatment facility for over a month now, dealing with my grief and the resurgence of my PTSD. I'm determined to conquer this, to show my superiority over myself and not let it control my life any longer. Though the problems that happened between the Mother of my child and I are shared, and I believe can be overcome, I am mastering my end. Not just because I have to, but because I want to.
I'm going to share what I've learned, but more than that, I'm going to share why I love this woman and why she holds that special place in my pantheon. We are opposites and equals. This is her story. This is my Light.
***
I'm not sure where to begin other than she is a Bosnian woman through and through. Dark humor and quick wit, stunning to the eyes and deadly to the heart. There is a reason I call her My Dark Lady with reverence and a wee bit of fear. There is a reason I love her with all my heart, mind, body, and soul.
Where I am an intuitive thinker, she is an intuitive feeler. And while we are both highly analytical, she is more mind oriented and I am more soul oriented. She is definitely the extrovert and I am the introvert. And where she is ordered I am chaotic.
She has this restless, creative energy inside her that wants to be brought out. Her inner colors and shapes are like a kaleidoscope, able to subtlety enchant everyone around her. And though on the surface she is upbeat and lighthearted, her inner darkness is deep and troubling due to past experiences and her chosen profession.
One thing I should have recognized is our intellectual styles and needs are very different. Though we are both unconventional and like to wander off the beaten path, we both also have similar interests, we should have been using our strengths to bring harmony and balance into our lives instead of competing. I think that because we're both highly intelligent that our stubbornness got into the way. I also don't think we've never been in a relationship with another person who was equally as strong. Which is a difficult thing to adjust to. And I was also wounded.
She is a natural leader, I could see it wherever we went. She wasn't used to taking orders from anyone. Her role in life is that of the Protector, always ready to jump into a fight to protect those she loves. Though sometimes overbearing, I know that she acted from her core whenever she saw me struggle. Where I am idealistic to the point of being naive, she grounded me from running off and wasting energy in trying to "save the world" as she would call it. The anchor to my heart that I desperately needed.
Our upbringing also causes us to view the world differently. Though my initiation into the terribleness of the real world only started in my adult life, she experienced it from a very young age. Her profession and dealing with the criminal and negligent aspects of Norwegian society contributed to her hard edge and judgmental eye, something that I didn't recognize about her until recently. The term that I learned is called the Tetris Effect. I believe that she had accrued some secondary trauma, and coupled with her primary trauma, jumped to conclusions of my behavior and thought processes. She would occasionally see harm and hurt where there were none. And I was too focused and distracted on insignificant matters to really understand. Plus, until recently I had very little education of psychology outside of my own personal issues.
Neither of us like to conform to rules or expectations of others, which is a trait that I absolutely love about her. However, we both have different tastes in styles and ideas that drive us forward in life. She likes to dress elegantly, and for her I would too, but I prefer to dress simply, and moderately. I think with all the differences that we have if we had focused on our hearts and gave one another unconditional love and respected one another for who we are and what we have overcome to be strong, we would be unstoppable.
Though my heart has been severely wounded, not in the least by her, I should have been more sensitive to her emotional needs. Where I need my alone and quiet time to reorient myself, I should have been more vocal and communicative with my own needs as well. Sometimes I'm too lighthearted in things, and it doesn't mean I'm dismissive or disinterested, it's that I never hide my intent and I always try to keep my intentions positive. If an issue is brought up and discussed then we come to a solution and that's it. I took for granted that she is more affected by matters of the heart than she let on. But here, again, I'm stupid, and because my own heart has been affected as drastically as it had been, I was too involved with trying to understand my own to recognize my mistakes.
Maybe that led to us to be competitive, unconsciously, instead of supportive. Or maybe it came across that way to one another in our stubbornness. Her saying things like, "I went through that when I was younger," sounded more condescending than encouraging. A mistake all too commonly made by the human tendency towards negativity bias. Where I should have recognized that Melissa relies on structure, discipline, and control of her own life to protect and care for those she loves, I rely on warmth, sacrifice, and forgiveness. In that way she takes on the more typical masculine role of disciplinary parent and I would be classified as the feminine "soft" parent. I think that my soft heartedness might have lead to her to lose respect for me.
While her love is no less powerful than my own, I continually tried to openly express it because that is what my Great Grandfather did. The people that hurt me, I actively tried to forgive and let them know that I did forgive them. And that my boundaries are drawn there. If you've left my life, very rarely do I let you back in, though I profess no hard feelings towards you. My Love, however, I'm not sure she could forgive. Her upbringing was harsh and her family life never gave her an opportunity to express or explore that avenue. I think that is one of the reasons that drives me is that I want her to know that I do love and forgive her. And she is the only person that I would unconditionally let back into my life, if she would allow it. That is how great my love for her is.
However, I did start to feel like I was walking on eggshells and having anxiety. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was she couldn't see me for who I am. I know she probably hasn't done some inner searching for understanding. She had developed a disdain for it when one of her exes left unannounced to India to soul search and didn't come back for months. I don't believe you need to go anywhere to find your soul, you just need to look inward.
We are like Heaven and Earth. I'm a dreamer, a bit philosophical, and full of unconventional ideas. Melissa is practical, grounded, and goal-oriented. She is what grounds me with her gravity and I am the one that pulls her up into the stars to see their majesty. She offers me security, from mostly myself, and I offer her exploration of the uncharted abstract. She gave me peace and comfort and stability when I was caught in the middle of a storm and being chased by pirates of the soul. And I offer her the chance to overcome and love like never before.
***
Okay, that's enough analysis for today. Maybe too much, but I do pay attention, sometimes it takes a while for me to produce the right words. In the case of love and the heart, well, if it's true then it's never too late.
This here is my Light in the Darkness. In my next piece, part IV, we're going as deep and dark as one can get.
Happy (early) Birthday, Duso Moja Mala. I'm here, I love you and I'm always here.
Brandon.
"To care about someone doesn't mean you need to understand their thoughts. It means you see them as they are; as they are have the potential to be. You see and acknowledge the good part of their character and when you see the negative parts of their character, you accept it is there and know that life and experience will make those slowly fade away. You are there to help them through life, just like they you. Any experience shared is an experience remembered. Even though your hand cannot help at that point, your presence there is enough."
-Richard Cypher to Kahlan Amnel
-John 1:5
If you go into a dark room with a candle, the darkness gets pushed away. The shadows come alive to dance. But you cannot enter a room filled with light and bring darkness with you. Not any way that is natural.
I've talked with people all over the world about my story. It is dark, lonely, demanding, disorientating. In those conditions I have thrived, not because I have lived in darkness, but because I had brought my own light. When the sun had set and the moon is new and the stars are lost behind the clouds, I have used my intuition and my upbringing to guide me forward. Towards what end, I don't know, it's not the destination that matters. Every road leads to home.
For me that Light has always been honor, integrity, and love. I want to share these ideas with you. I use a Biblical quote up top because it's true, no matter what the source, and my original source for my spirit was my Great Grandfather. He taught me not just through words but through actions, and while I've fought many a monster, inside and outside, I always rely on his teachings as a platform for how I want to conduct my own life.
The Buddha also says, “Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the single candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” I've been in a VA inpatient treatment facility for over a month now, dealing with my grief and the resurgence of my PTSD. I'm determined to conquer this, to show my superiority over myself and not let it control my life any longer. Though the problems that happened between the Mother of my child and I are shared, and I believe can be overcome, I am mastering my end. Not just because I have to, but because I want to.
I'm going to share what I've learned, but more than that, I'm going to share why I love this woman and why she holds that special place in my pantheon. We are opposites and equals. This is her story. This is my Light.
***
I'm not sure where to begin other than she is a Bosnian woman through and through. Dark humor and quick wit, stunning to the eyes and deadly to the heart. There is a reason I call her My Dark Lady with reverence and a wee bit of fear. There is a reason I love her with all my heart, mind, body, and soul.
Where I am an intuitive thinker, she is an intuitive feeler. And while we are both highly analytical, she is more mind oriented and I am more soul oriented. She is definitely the extrovert and I am the introvert. And where she is ordered I am chaotic.
She has this restless, creative energy inside her that wants to be brought out. Her inner colors and shapes are like a kaleidoscope, able to subtlety enchant everyone around her. And though on the surface she is upbeat and lighthearted, her inner darkness is deep and troubling due to past experiences and her chosen profession.
One thing I should have recognized is our intellectual styles and needs are very different. Though we are both unconventional and like to wander off the beaten path, we both also have similar interests, we should have been using our strengths to bring harmony and balance into our lives instead of competing. I think that because we're both highly intelligent that our stubbornness got into the way. I also don't think we've never been in a relationship with another person who was equally as strong. Which is a difficult thing to adjust to. And I was also wounded.
She is a natural leader, I could see it wherever we went. She wasn't used to taking orders from anyone. Her role in life is that of the Protector, always ready to jump into a fight to protect those she loves. Though sometimes overbearing, I know that she acted from her core whenever she saw me struggle. Where I am idealistic to the point of being naive, she grounded me from running off and wasting energy in trying to "save the world" as she would call it. The anchor to my heart that I desperately needed.
Our upbringing also causes us to view the world differently. Though my initiation into the terribleness of the real world only started in my adult life, she experienced it from a very young age. Her profession and dealing with the criminal and negligent aspects of Norwegian society contributed to her hard edge and judgmental eye, something that I didn't recognize about her until recently. The term that I learned is called the Tetris Effect. I believe that she had accrued some secondary trauma, and coupled with her primary trauma, jumped to conclusions of my behavior and thought processes. She would occasionally see harm and hurt where there were none. And I was too focused and distracted on insignificant matters to really understand. Plus, until recently I had very little education of psychology outside of my own personal issues.
Neither of us like to conform to rules or expectations of others, which is a trait that I absolutely love about her. However, we both have different tastes in styles and ideas that drive us forward in life. She likes to dress elegantly, and for her I would too, but I prefer to dress simply, and moderately. I think with all the differences that we have if we had focused on our hearts and gave one another unconditional love and respected one another for who we are and what we have overcome to be strong, we would be unstoppable.
Though my heart has been severely wounded, not in the least by her, I should have been more sensitive to her emotional needs. Where I need my alone and quiet time to reorient myself, I should have been more vocal and communicative with my own needs as well. Sometimes I'm too lighthearted in things, and it doesn't mean I'm dismissive or disinterested, it's that I never hide my intent and I always try to keep my intentions positive. If an issue is brought up and discussed then we come to a solution and that's it. I took for granted that she is more affected by matters of the heart than she let on. But here, again, I'm stupid, and because my own heart has been affected as drastically as it had been, I was too involved with trying to understand my own to recognize my mistakes.
Maybe that led to us to be competitive, unconsciously, instead of supportive. Or maybe it came across that way to one another in our stubbornness. Her saying things like, "I went through that when I was younger," sounded more condescending than encouraging. A mistake all too commonly made by the human tendency towards negativity bias. Where I should have recognized that Melissa relies on structure, discipline, and control of her own life to protect and care for those she loves, I rely on warmth, sacrifice, and forgiveness. In that way she takes on the more typical masculine role of disciplinary parent and I would be classified as the feminine "soft" parent. I think that my soft heartedness might have lead to her to lose respect for me.
While her love is no less powerful than my own, I continually tried to openly express it because that is what my Great Grandfather did. The people that hurt me, I actively tried to forgive and let them know that I did forgive them. And that my boundaries are drawn there. If you've left my life, very rarely do I let you back in, though I profess no hard feelings towards you. My Love, however, I'm not sure she could forgive. Her upbringing was harsh and her family life never gave her an opportunity to express or explore that avenue. I think that is one of the reasons that drives me is that I want her to know that I do love and forgive her. And she is the only person that I would unconditionally let back into my life, if she would allow it. That is how great my love for her is.
However, I did start to feel like I was walking on eggshells and having anxiety. Maybe it was hormones, maybe it was she couldn't see me for who I am. I know she probably hasn't done some inner searching for understanding. She had developed a disdain for it when one of her exes left unannounced to India to soul search and didn't come back for months. I don't believe you need to go anywhere to find your soul, you just need to look inward.
We are like Heaven and Earth. I'm a dreamer, a bit philosophical, and full of unconventional ideas. Melissa is practical, grounded, and goal-oriented. She is what grounds me with her gravity and I am the one that pulls her up into the stars to see their majesty. She offers me security, from mostly myself, and I offer her exploration of the uncharted abstract. She gave me peace and comfort and stability when I was caught in the middle of a storm and being chased by pirates of the soul. And I offer her the chance to overcome and love like never before.
***
Okay, that's enough analysis for today. Maybe too much, but I do pay attention, sometimes it takes a while for me to produce the right words. In the case of love and the heart, well, if it's true then it's never too late.
This here is my Light in the Darkness. In my next piece, part IV, we're going as deep and dark as one can get.
Happy (early) Birthday, Duso Moja Mala. I'm here, I love you and I'm always here.
Brandon.
"To care about someone doesn't mean you need to understand their thoughts. It means you see them as they are; as they are have the potential to be. You see and acknowledge the good part of their character and when you see the negative parts of their character, you accept it is there and know that life and experience will make those slowly fade away. You are there to help them through life, just like they you. Any experience shared is an experience remembered. Even though your hand cannot help at that point, your presence there is enough."
-Richard Cypher to Kahlan Amnel
10 July 2017
Chasing Love and Revelations: A Reflection Part II
Everyone has problems in life. And everyone has problems in love. I'm not so sure those things are separate anymore. Life should be love and love should be life. Or more accurately, Love is the action that should drive life forward. It should transcend thought and feeling. Love is about being, and doing. All too often we forget that nowadays.
Now intimacy, that is a beast that I've struggled with for 11 years. Growing up as I did in a Christian household, I had always been told to save myself until marriage. I had no reason not to believe it with Great-grandparents who had been married almost 70 years, and Grandparents who have been married almost 60. I even had a great example of what love was NOT: my father leaving my mother to raise me on her own and the men who came into her life afterwards.
A situation that has repeated itself in my own life, but with the mother of my son forcing me away and keeping me from my son for reasons only known to her. I am not my father. For as long as I can remember all I've wanted was a family. To have a wife and children and be good to them both. I had thought that my dealings with the military and the Drone Whistleblowing had killed that dream until I met her. Now I'm struggling with this absurd situation that makes no sense to me and the answers are hiding in the shadows avoiding the light of truth.
Now intimacy, that is a beast that I've struggled with for 11 years. Growing up as I did in a Christian household, I had always been told to save myself until marriage. I had no reason not to believe it with Great-grandparents who had been married almost 70 years, and Grandparents who have been married almost 60. I even had a great example of what love was NOT: my father leaving my mother to raise me on her own and the men who came into her life afterwards.
A situation that has repeated itself in my own life, but with the mother of my son forcing me away and keeping me from my son for reasons only known to her. I am not my father. For as long as I can remember all I've wanted was a family. To have a wife and children and be good to them both. I had thought that my dealings with the military and the Drone Whistleblowing had killed that dream until I met her. Now I'm struggling with this absurd situation that makes no sense to me and the answers are hiding in the shadows avoiding the light of truth.
Since the answers are not forthcoming, and speculation will only lead to anger and hurt, I've decided to address this issue with a continuance from PART I, because if she were any other person and this was any other situation that didn't involve my child, I would have walked away and never looked back after how she treated me, manipulated and lied to me. If she were any other person...
In the end, however, I can do nothing but love and forgive her. In the end, we can only be who we are. No more. No less.
In my striving to find love, true love, I've made many mistakes. If you were to meet me two years ago, before my testifying to the German Bundestag, I could be seen carrying around a mountain of guilt. It was crushing the life out of me. I had loved my country, but it had betrayed my trust. I had loved my brothers and sisters in arms, but they had shown me to be cowards. I had loved my people, but they are blind and refuse to see. I threw my lot into the wind to see where it would carry me.
I've mentioned before the freedom of release once you believe that you're going to die. I knew my days were numbered. People have been punished for less. I've been punished for less. Through it all I never succumbed to the crushing weight. I had finished what I had believed would be impossible from the very beginning. I had struggled with my own demons, and ghosts, and shame, yet I still managed to cross the finish line.
The end is a strange place to be. I had no idea what to do with myself. Where death had seemed inevitable, with the mother of my child it became impossible. Where intimacy had hidden behind the closed doors of my heart brandishing a knife, the fear of life's consequences faded away, if only for a little bit.
I've only had a handful of other relationships, each ending mostly because I couldn't get past the intimacy roadblock. I know where it started. It started when two women decided to take my choice of who to share myself with away from me. It continued when I had told a woman in my squadron I was dating what happened and she belittled me, then accused me of rape to our superiors when I refused to shotgun marry her, then when I confronted her about it she told me she used me to get over her ex. It was four years before I had the courage to put myself out there again, the trauma was so bad my self esteem had been destroyed.
And in that case it was a woman I had been friends with that came on to me, which lifted the burden from my shoulders. We had a fun time. She opened me up to start exploring that part of me that had been secluded away like a cloistered monk. As it turns out, holiness isn't all that it's cracked out to be. In the end, I'm pretty sure that we both knew it wouldn't be forever. I couldn't be open with her emotionally. So we had our fun and parted ways as friends and I started to explore myself again. Here is where my true difficulties began.
I never really allowed myself to be open with the women that I dated, always keeping my heart superficially open. In a way that attracted them, and in a worse way it caused me to drive them away. In the year between me getting out of Active Duty Service while I awaited my fateful SERE moment, I connected with a strange and lovely crowd, many of them part of the LGBTQ community. Some of the women were crazy and manipulative, I was told that I was eye candy for gay men, and overall they got me comfortable talking and joking about unmentionable things that their military counterparts could only elegantly grunt and beat their dicks at.
But still, the issue of intimacy was a vital thing held close to my heart. I knew I was only attracted to women, so the gay men who flirted with me unabashedly only served to boost my ego. The women who took interest in me quickly fell away when I would hammer their intellect trying to find something more than just a pretty face. I learned quickly that the deeper questions in life are not ones that most pursue in their leisurely time. For me, because of my experiences, it was imperative.
Not to say that there is anything wrong with any other pursuit, it is just my needs were more than physical. Still are. And it's difficult to be attracted to somebody, even beautiful women, when they don't have much cultivated behind their pretty eyes. For me, that cultivation is essential. I only wanted somebody who pursues life with equal gusto. Who wants to find more than what is shown on the surface.
Before my SERE accident, I met somebody who pretended to be just that. She was brilliant, if not beautiful. And that was a downfall for me. For a month all I wanted to do was talk with her, dig into her brain. Two weeks before I left for SERE, she told me that if we were to pursue a relationship together, we were just friends then, then I had to tell her what I was holding back. I had known she was perceptive, and the shock on my face had to have been obvious. She told me that she could handle the darkness that I was hiding. She was the first person I ever told about my military experiences.
Once I started I couldn't stop. Once the first words started rolling off my tongue I saw her shrink away as she saw the monster that I had hidden away. I told her everything and by the end of it she had moved herself into the kitchen out of my sight while I continued to sit on the couch unable to stop the flow of words spewing forth from my mouth. I hadn't realized that I had been crying the whole time. I stared at my hands in silence once I had finished. She didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity. Then she told me to leave. And that was the last time I could pretend that the world was all right.
Two months later I have my accident. In my desperation to hold on to myself, to not give into the physical pain that held nothing compared to the internal agony that I had felt, I nearly killed myself. In many ways I would have preferred that ending. It would have been cleaner at least. And I wouldn't admit to have seen what lay behind the curtain of OZ, knowing that we have all been played the fools that we are.
In my final moments, resting in that hospital bed, I could only stare as I felt my will to live slowly fade to a dying ember. I had wanted to give up. I could see no redemption for me. No angels singing their heavenly songs and no demons wailing their horrid curses. Just the infrared ghosts of those that I had kill and helped kill waiting for me as Legion. My doctor was a beautiful Eastern European woman with dark hair and green eyes. She looked like the Angel of Death herself and the two nurses that accompanied her looked like they had been sculpted out of stone. I saw them as clear as day, and I silently cried out to the Universe, "if there was any way to redeem myself please give me the chance." My soul fled into the night and the dead waited for me in my dreams.
In the end, however, I can do nothing but love and forgive her. In the end, we can only be who we are. No more. No less.
In my striving to find love, true love, I've made many mistakes. If you were to meet me two years ago, before my testifying to the German Bundestag, I could be seen carrying around a mountain of guilt. It was crushing the life out of me. I had loved my country, but it had betrayed my trust. I had loved my brothers and sisters in arms, but they had shown me to be cowards. I had loved my people, but they are blind and refuse to see. I threw my lot into the wind to see where it would carry me.
I've mentioned before the freedom of release once you believe that you're going to die. I knew my days were numbered. People have been punished for less. I've been punished for less. Through it all I never succumbed to the crushing weight. I had finished what I had believed would be impossible from the very beginning. I had struggled with my own demons, and ghosts, and shame, yet I still managed to cross the finish line.
The end is a strange place to be. I had no idea what to do with myself. Where death had seemed inevitable, with the mother of my child it became impossible. Where intimacy had hidden behind the closed doors of my heart brandishing a knife, the fear of life's consequences faded away, if only for a little bit.
I've only had a handful of other relationships, each ending mostly because I couldn't get past the intimacy roadblock. I know where it started. It started when two women decided to take my choice of who to share myself with away from me. It continued when I had told a woman in my squadron I was dating what happened and she belittled me, then accused me of rape to our superiors when I refused to shotgun marry her, then when I confronted her about it she told me she used me to get over her ex. It was four years before I had the courage to put myself out there again, the trauma was so bad my self esteem had been destroyed.
And in that case it was a woman I had been friends with that came on to me, which lifted the burden from my shoulders. We had a fun time. She opened me up to start exploring that part of me that had been secluded away like a cloistered monk. As it turns out, holiness isn't all that it's cracked out to be. In the end, I'm pretty sure that we both knew it wouldn't be forever. I couldn't be open with her emotionally. So we had our fun and parted ways as friends and I started to explore myself again. Here is where my true difficulties began.
I never really allowed myself to be open with the women that I dated, always keeping my heart superficially open. In a way that attracted them, and in a worse way it caused me to drive them away. In the year between me getting out of Active Duty Service while I awaited my fateful SERE moment, I connected with a strange and lovely crowd, many of them part of the LGBTQ community. Some of the women were crazy and manipulative, I was told that I was eye candy for gay men, and overall they got me comfortable talking and joking about unmentionable things that their military counterparts could only elegantly grunt and beat their dicks at.
But still, the issue of intimacy was a vital thing held close to my heart. I knew I was only attracted to women, so the gay men who flirted with me unabashedly only served to boost my ego. The women who took interest in me quickly fell away when I would hammer their intellect trying to find something more than just a pretty face. I learned quickly that the deeper questions in life are not ones that most pursue in their leisurely time. For me, because of my experiences, it was imperative.
Not to say that there is anything wrong with any other pursuit, it is just my needs were more than physical. Still are. And it's difficult to be attracted to somebody, even beautiful women, when they don't have much cultivated behind their pretty eyes. For me, that cultivation is essential. I only wanted somebody who pursues life with equal gusto. Who wants to find more than what is shown on the surface.
Before my SERE accident, I met somebody who pretended to be just that. She was brilliant, if not beautiful. And that was a downfall for me. For a month all I wanted to do was talk with her, dig into her brain. Two weeks before I left for SERE, she told me that if we were to pursue a relationship together, we were just friends then, then I had to tell her what I was holding back. I had known she was perceptive, and the shock on my face had to have been obvious. She told me that she could handle the darkness that I was hiding. She was the first person I ever told about my military experiences.
Once I started I couldn't stop. Once the first words started rolling off my tongue I saw her shrink away as she saw the monster that I had hidden away. I told her everything and by the end of it she had moved herself into the kitchen out of my sight while I continued to sit on the couch unable to stop the flow of words spewing forth from my mouth. I hadn't realized that I had been crying the whole time. I stared at my hands in silence once I had finished. She didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity. Then she told me to leave. And that was the last time I could pretend that the world was all right.
Two months later I have my accident. In my desperation to hold on to myself, to not give into the physical pain that held nothing compared to the internal agony that I had felt, I nearly killed myself. In many ways I would have preferred that ending. It would have been cleaner at least. And I wouldn't admit to have seen what lay behind the curtain of OZ, knowing that we have all been played the fools that we are.
In my final moments, resting in that hospital bed, I could only stare as I felt my will to live slowly fade to a dying ember. I had wanted to give up. I could see no redemption for me. No angels singing their heavenly songs and no demons wailing their horrid curses. Just the infrared ghosts of those that I had kill and helped kill waiting for me as Legion. My doctor was a beautiful Eastern European woman with dark hair and green eyes. She looked like the Angel of Death herself and the two nurses that accompanied her looked like they had been sculpted out of stone. I saw them as clear as day, and I silently cried out to the Universe, "if there was any way to redeem myself please give me the chance." My soul fled into the night and the dead waited for me in my dreams.
06 July 2017
Chasing Love and Revelation: A Reflection Part I
Back in November the mother of my son gave me the advice that I should read a book by Roger Housden about a young man who is inspired by the Mystic Rumi to go searching for the thing that pulled upon his heart. The unknown mystery that pulls at every man to discover his own creation. That insistence which can not be ignored, lest they worse than die.
The man that we have come to know as Rumi, was a 13th-century Persian Sunni Muslim poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic. And a stark reminder today that it isn't the religion that makes the extremist, but the misunderstanding of those belief systems. For he was a man whose highest desire was Love.
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, one of the names he was known by, became a companion of a man who was searching for one who could "endure his company." I'm not going to speculate on the nature of their companionship, but it was one of heartfelt love, no matter its relation. After Rumi's companion was murdered, instead of giving into the sorrow and pain, he used his grief to understand the nature of his heart.
Inspired by both the book, Chasing Love and Revelation: A Fable about finding the Heart's True Desire, and Rumi's poetry, I had decided to delve into the nature of my own grief and longing to understand what it was that my Heart truly desired.
I know that had I read this book back in November, the relationship that I had would have probably been salvaged. But that's a very slim probably. I still hadn't understood the nature of my own grief. I was still in the process of digging into my wounded heart, to see what the hell was going on with me. And if I had read it then, I wouldn't have the conviction and understanding of my heart that I do now. And maybe, MAYBE, the self-doubt that I had back then would have overwhelmed anything that I could have learned.
It wasn't until I was back in Missoula, after I had once again lost everything my heart desired to my own pain and self-loathing, that I surrendered to my grief. I gained the gift of love from that grief.
I spent a lot of time on the living room floor crying out to the universe to end me. My shame crashed against me like thunder. I, still to this day, have no idea what really went on. Every question I asked was met with a challenge or an accusation. Every memory examined for the smallest of details, wondering what I missed, how I could have been so foolish, what I had done to deserve this. Most days I could hardly move, I lost 9kg, and because I lost so much muscle and strength the ache in my bones amplified. Never in my life have I been in so much pain. I cried for mercy, I cursed the gods, should they exist, threatened them and begged them. But no answer came.
Back in November, on Veteran's Day, I had a suicide attempt. My Lady had been up in a tussle, and I was getting sick. While I lay in bed she had written out in a blue notebook all the things that she hated about me then left it in the open for me to find. When she left, I had decided to get up and do all the chores that needed to be done before she came home so we could rest. When I came across the notebook I was devastated.
I couldn't understand why she believed these things about me. It was like she believed I was somebody else. Like she was poisoned by something. Past memories, events? I still don't know, nor would she tell me. But none of that matters now. Except that she never believed me to be me. Thought I was weak. Maybe I was, but not in the ways she thought.
I looked around the apartment and I cried. She had been the only thing I was holding on to. The only thing that I felt that I could trust was our love and then... I went into free fall. I was so numb I could barely write a note. I simply apologized and told her that I loved her. Asked her to tell my mother that I was sorry and to take care of my dog. I had failed her. I couldn't overcome the circumstances that I had found myself in. In the end, THEY had won.
I had told my truth in front of the world. And yet I couldn't keep my world together. I was being attacked and stalked by people hiding behind internet pseudonyms. I had no trust in governments or establishments. I felt like I had no one I could reach out to, and I kept everything hidden inside because she was dealing with too much as it was. A man who was dying heart, mind, body, and soul cannot be loved by anybody.
I had foolishly placed my faith in nothing. In a way, many of my attackers were right. I was just a pawn. Nothing more. Once I outlived my usefulness I would be discarded. And I had wasted so much energy and strength to do what I believed was necessary and right, I never gave thought that if I needed help it wouldn't be there.
That's too much to handle for anyone, much less a pregnant woman struggling with herself. Regardless of how strong she is, everyone breaks. If I learned anything from my time in the military it is that. Everyone breaks. I had broken more times than I should have.
So i went east, to the statue park and overlooked the fjord. My migraine was so bad that I could hardly see anything, the light sensitivity driving my eyes to the ground and deep into my hood. My body ached to the point where I was walking with my cane and the effort strenuous enough to drench me in sweat on a cold winter day. But I walked as far as I could.
I came to a small clearing away from any disturbances. In my pocket I had a large bottle of Mead and in my other the dagger that I had been issued by the 3rd SOS during my time in service. My plan had been to sharpen a stick, ram it into my gut, and slit my own throat, in a mockery of the Samurai's honorable suicide. I saw no better ending for myself. No amount of honor could be regained. I was damned.
I drank the bottle of mead from the horn I brought with me. I poured my heart and soul out to the universe, asking for the strength to finish the deed. I didn't want to die with a gut wound, those are painful and the ending isn't quick. I couldn't go with the stick method so I tried to stab myself in the heart. Every time I tried, my heart whispered, "wait!"
I argued with it. I asked, "how could she love a man like me? I told her things that I had never told anyone else and she saw me as a monster. She was disgusted. The last time I tried to be open with somebody they did the same thing and it caused me to crumble with the guilt of what I had done."
"So what?" It replied." Don't you love her? Don't you love your unborn child? The past is meant for us to overcome its terrible experiences. Wounds and damage heal, lessons are learned. Wisdom is only gained through pain. Growth only comes with struggle."
I cursed my heart and I passed out.
When I had come to it was dark and I didn't know how many hours had passed. On top of my migraine I was hungover and dehydrated. I could hardly move. I slowly made my way back west towards the city, stumbling over my clumsy feet. All I could think of was her. How I was going to make it up to her. How I would do better and gain strength again and overcome. I placed all my self hate in a cup, my holy grail, then made my way back to the apartment.
I don't exactly know how long I stood outside wondering what I would say. In the end all I could think of was hugging her and apologizing. I walked in the door, and she attacked me. I reacted out of instinct and hit her against the wall. And my cup spilled. I was damned. I could think of nothing other than my failures. My most recent failure to kill myself burned with rage inside of me. And I had done the one thing that I had promised myself I would never do. Harm the one that I love.
I'm not placing blame on her, on anyone but myself. She was terrified. My reaction gave her cause to be terrified. I was terrified myself. I broke, again. And this time I wasn't sure if all the kings horses and all the kings men could ever put me back together again.
Fast forwards through three of the most confusing months of my life. Pause at the birth of my son, the most important event of my life. I think Alan Watts said there are two important moments in your life: your birth and the moment you find out your reason why you were born. He became it. No, always was it.
Where I will always love his mother for giving me my reason to hold on, it wasn't until I held my son in my arms the first time that I understood what True Love really was. The reason that I exist in this world is for him. I have made mistakes in my life that people seem to constantly want to punish me for, but for my son I can overcome all things. That I can teach him the lessons I learned, pass on the wisdom that I have accumulated... I've come to the conclusion recently that there is no greater purpose for me. There is no greater love that I could give than that to my son. And I think that is why I still love his mother after all that she has done to me. Why I can thank her for the pain, and the grief. For destroying my inflated sense of self and reminding me of where my true heart lay.
I would give anything, have given everything, for truth and reconciliation. I would endure all pains for my son. I have found True Love in my heart, and it was with me all along. For discovering that, no greater gift have I been given. And my heart sings with Joy in the midst of all my pain.
I love you my son. Forever and Always.
The man that we have come to know as Rumi, was a 13th-century Persian Sunni Muslim poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic. And a stark reminder today that it isn't the religion that makes the extremist, but the misunderstanding of those belief systems. For he was a man whose highest desire was Love.
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, one of the names he was known by, became a companion of a man who was searching for one who could "endure his company." I'm not going to speculate on the nature of their companionship, but it was one of heartfelt love, no matter its relation. After Rumi's companion was murdered, instead of giving into the sorrow and pain, he used his grief to understand the nature of his heart.
Inspired by both the book, Chasing Love and Revelation: A Fable about finding the Heart's True Desire, and Rumi's poetry, I had decided to delve into the nature of my own grief and longing to understand what it was that my Heart truly desired.
I know that had I read this book back in November, the relationship that I had would have probably been salvaged. But that's a very slim probably. I still hadn't understood the nature of my own grief. I was still in the process of digging into my wounded heart, to see what the hell was going on with me. And if I had read it then, I wouldn't have the conviction and understanding of my heart that I do now. And maybe, MAYBE, the self-doubt that I had back then would have overwhelmed anything that I could have learned.
It wasn't until I was back in Missoula, after I had once again lost everything my heart desired to my own pain and self-loathing, that I surrendered to my grief. I gained the gift of love from that grief.
I spent a lot of time on the living room floor crying out to the universe to end me. My shame crashed against me like thunder. I, still to this day, have no idea what really went on. Every question I asked was met with a challenge or an accusation. Every memory examined for the smallest of details, wondering what I missed, how I could have been so foolish, what I had done to deserve this. Most days I could hardly move, I lost 9kg, and because I lost so much muscle and strength the ache in my bones amplified. Never in my life have I been in so much pain. I cried for mercy, I cursed the gods, should they exist, threatened them and begged them. But no answer came.
Back in November, on Veteran's Day, I had a suicide attempt. My Lady had been up in a tussle, and I was getting sick. While I lay in bed she had written out in a blue notebook all the things that she hated about me then left it in the open for me to find. When she left, I had decided to get up and do all the chores that needed to be done before she came home so we could rest. When I came across the notebook I was devastated.
I couldn't understand why she believed these things about me. It was like she believed I was somebody else. Like she was poisoned by something. Past memories, events? I still don't know, nor would she tell me. But none of that matters now. Except that she never believed me to be me. Thought I was weak. Maybe I was, but not in the ways she thought.
I looked around the apartment and I cried. She had been the only thing I was holding on to. The only thing that I felt that I could trust was our love and then... I went into free fall. I was so numb I could barely write a note. I simply apologized and told her that I loved her. Asked her to tell my mother that I was sorry and to take care of my dog. I had failed her. I couldn't overcome the circumstances that I had found myself in. In the end, THEY had won.
I had told my truth in front of the world. And yet I couldn't keep my world together. I was being attacked and stalked by people hiding behind internet pseudonyms. I had no trust in governments or establishments. I felt like I had no one I could reach out to, and I kept everything hidden inside because she was dealing with too much as it was. A man who was dying heart, mind, body, and soul cannot be loved by anybody.
I had foolishly placed my faith in nothing. In a way, many of my attackers were right. I was just a pawn. Nothing more. Once I outlived my usefulness I would be discarded. And I had wasted so much energy and strength to do what I believed was necessary and right, I never gave thought that if I needed help it wouldn't be there.
That's too much to handle for anyone, much less a pregnant woman struggling with herself. Regardless of how strong she is, everyone breaks. If I learned anything from my time in the military it is that. Everyone breaks. I had broken more times than I should have.
So i went east, to the statue park and overlooked the fjord. My migraine was so bad that I could hardly see anything, the light sensitivity driving my eyes to the ground and deep into my hood. My body ached to the point where I was walking with my cane and the effort strenuous enough to drench me in sweat on a cold winter day. But I walked as far as I could.
I came to a small clearing away from any disturbances. In my pocket I had a large bottle of Mead and in my other the dagger that I had been issued by the 3rd SOS during my time in service. My plan had been to sharpen a stick, ram it into my gut, and slit my own throat, in a mockery of the Samurai's honorable suicide. I saw no better ending for myself. No amount of honor could be regained. I was damned.
I drank the bottle of mead from the horn I brought with me. I poured my heart and soul out to the universe, asking for the strength to finish the deed. I didn't want to die with a gut wound, those are painful and the ending isn't quick. I couldn't go with the stick method so I tried to stab myself in the heart. Every time I tried, my heart whispered, "wait!"
I argued with it. I asked, "how could she love a man like me? I told her things that I had never told anyone else and she saw me as a monster. She was disgusted. The last time I tried to be open with somebody they did the same thing and it caused me to crumble with the guilt of what I had done."
"So what?" It replied." Don't you love her? Don't you love your unborn child? The past is meant for us to overcome its terrible experiences. Wounds and damage heal, lessons are learned. Wisdom is only gained through pain. Growth only comes with struggle."
I cursed my heart and I passed out.
When I had come to it was dark and I didn't know how many hours had passed. On top of my migraine I was hungover and dehydrated. I could hardly move. I slowly made my way back west towards the city, stumbling over my clumsy feet. All I could think of was her. How I was going to make it up to her. How I would do better and gain strength again and overcome. I placed all my self hate in a cup, my holy grail, then made my way back to the apartment.
I don't exactly know how long I stood outside wondering what I would say. In the end all I could think of was hugging her and apologizing. I walked in the door, and she attacked me. I reacted out of instinct and hit her against the wall. And my cup spilled. I was damned. I could think of nothing other than my failures. My most recent failure to kill myself burned with rage inside of me. And I had done the one thing that I had promised myself I would never do. Harm the one that I love.
I'm not placing blame on her, on anyone but myself. She was terrified. My reaction gave her cause to be terrified. I was terrified myself. I broke, again. And this time I wasn't sure if all the kings horses and all the kings men could ever put me back together again.
Fast forwards through three of the most confusing months of my life. Pause at the birth of my son, the most important event of my life. I think Alan Watts said there are two important moments in your life: your birth and the moment you find out your reason why you were born. He became it. No, always was it.
Where I will always love his mother for giving me my reason to hold on, it wasn't until I held my son in my arms the first time that I understood what True Love really was. The reason that I exist in this world is for him. I have made mistakes in my life that people seem to constantly want to punish me for, but for my son I can overcome all things. That I can teach him the lessons I learned, pass on the wisdom that I have accumulated... I've come to the conclusion recently that there is no greater purpose for me. There is no greater love that I could give than that to my son. And I think that is why I still love his mother after all that she has done to me. Why I can thank her for the pain, and the grief. For destroying my inflated sense of self and reminding me of where my true heart lay.
I would give anything, have given everything, for truth and reconciliation. I would endure all pains for my son. I have found True Love in my heart, and it was with me all along. For discovering that, no greater gift have I been given. And my heart sings with Joy in the midst of all my pain.
I love you my son. Forever and Always.
01 July 2017
The Smutty Buccaneer
The moon had risen in the sky
As we came into port
I had put on me Sunday best
To go hunt'n for some sport
The Capt'n led us down the plank
His confidence profound
He gave us all our share o' gold
The booty we had found
Our pockets full o' treasured things
We headed down the street
In threes and fours we roamed about
No trouble we would meet
We came upon the Blooming Rose
All dressed in our attire
To drink, n' sing, n' wench away
The plunder we'd acquired
She looked up and she met me eyes
I charmed her with me smile
The serving wench had come to me
Her beauty broke me guile
The sweat had glistened in her raven hair
As she serve me sweet rum.
I was hypnotized by her dance
The rhythm of her bum.
Those sage green eyes, they took me heart
Their radiance did speak
Of all the things that I could have
If treasure I won't seek
Her heaving chest, her snowy breast
I felt me loins go hard,
I knew 'though I gave her me wile
She'd never play me card.
She knew me for the lout I was
and took it with a grin
She always seen me kind in there
Me face, it reeked with sin
I had toiled to no avail
to get her to me bed
Her gentle laugh, it spoke to me
"If you try it you'll be dead."
We dueled the night with sharpened wit
And as we left I knew
My evening plans had slipped away.
She'd given me my doux.
Me mates had drug me to the ship
Mind up in a daze
I could not get her out o' me head
She cast me heart ablaze.
Me dreams are filled with swaying hips
And lips so red and sweet
She'd be a happy lass, I know
If I could nip a teat.
Alas, a lonely wench she'll be
And I a lonely man,
For on the morrow I set sail
To far off Troppican'.
As we came into port
I had put on me Sunday best
To go hunt'n for some sport
The Capt'n led us down the plank
His confidence profound
He gave us all our share o' gold
The booty we had found
Our pockets full o' treasured things
We headed down the street
In threes and fours we roamed about
No trouble we would meet
We came upon the Blooming Rose
All dressed in our attire
To drink, n' sing, n' wench away
The plunder we'd acquired
She looked up and she met me eyes
I charmed her with me smile
The serving wench had come to me
Her beauty broke me guile
The sweat had glistened in her raven hair
As she serve me sweet rum.
I was hypnotized by her dance
The rhythm of her bum.
Those sage green eyes, they took me heart
Their radiance did speak
Of all the things that I could have
If treasure I won't seek
Her heaving chest, her snowy breast
I felt me loins go hard,
I knew 'though I gave her me wile
She'd never play me card.
She knew me for the lout I was
and took it with a grin
She always seen me kind in there
Me face, it reeked with sin
I had toiled to no avail
to get her to me bed
Her gentle laugh, it spoke to me
"If you try it you'll be dead."
We dueled the night with sharpened wit
And as we left I knew
My evening plans had slipped away.
She'd given me my doux.
Me mates had drug me to the ship
Mind up in a daze
I could not get her out o' me head
She cast me heart ablaze.
Me dreams are filled with swaying hips
And lips so red and sweet
She'd be a happy lass, I know
If I could nip a teat.
Alas, a lonely wench she'll be
And I a lonely man,
For on the morrow I set sail
To far off Troppican'.
Rules from the Sword of Truth (and their explanations)
Every book is a piece of wisdom passed from the storyteller to the people. I should have remembered that. I read this series twice through as a child, and when the last book was finished, I met the author himself. I can say that I've fallen prey to these quite a bit, because I had forgotten, but they have stuck with me since the first time that I read them. I should have remembered them.
But now I DO remember. And now I have to ask my self: What would a Seeker of Truth do?
But now I DO remember. And now I have to ask my self: What would a Seeker of Truth do?
1. People will believe a lie because they want it to be true; or they're afraid it's true.
Given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe its true, or because they're afraid it might be true. Peoples' heads are full of knowledge, facts and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true. People are stupid; they can only rarely tell the difference between a lie and the truth, and yet they are confident they can, and so are all the easier to fool.
Wizard's First Rule: Chapter 36, page 397
2. The greatest harm can result from the best intentions.
Kindness and good intentions can be an insidious path to destruction. Sometimes doing what seems right is wrong, and can cause harm. The only counter to it is knowledge, wisdom, forethought, and understanding the First Rule. Even then, that is not always enough.
Stone of Tears: Chapter 63, page 634
3. Passion rules reason, For better or for worse.
Letting your emotions control your reason may cause trouble for yourself and those around you.
Blood of the Fold: Chapter 43, page 360
4. There is magic in sincere forgiveness; in the forgiveness you give, but more so in the forgiveness you receive.
Temple of the Winds: Chapter 41, page 318
5. Mind what people do, not only what they say, for deeds will betray a lie.
Soul of the Fire: Chapter 28, page 205
6. The only sovereign you can allow to rule you is reason.
The first law of reason is this: what exists, exists; what is, is; and from this irreducible bedrock principle, all knowledge is built. It is the foundation from which life is embraced.Thinking is a choice. Wishes and whims are not facts nor are they a means to discover them. Reason is our only way of grasping reality; it is our basic tool of survival. We are free to evade the effort of thinking, to reject reason, but we are not free to avoid the penalty of the abyss that we refuse to see. Faith and feelings are the darkness to reason's light. In rejecting reason, refusing to think, one embraces death.
Faith of the Fallen: Chapter 41, page 318
7. Life is the future, not the past.
The past can teach us, through experience, how to accomplish things in the future, comfort us with cherished memories, and provide the foundation of what has already been accomplished. But only the future holds life. To live in the past is to embrace what is dead. To live life to its fullest, each day must be created anew. As rational, thinking beings, we must use our intellect, not a blind devotion to what has come before, to make rational choices.
Pillars of Creation: Chapter 60, page 549
8. Talga Vassternich, Translation: Deserve Victory.
Be justified in your convictions. Be completely committed. Earn what you want and need rather than waiting for others to give you what you desire.
Naked Empire: Chapter 61, page 626
9. A contradiction can not exist in reality. Not in part, nor in whole.
To believe in a contradiction is to abdicate your belief in the existence of the world around you and the nature of the things in it, to instead embrace any random impulse that strikes your fancy - to imagine something is real simply because you wish it were. A thing is what it is, it is itself. There can be no contradictions.Faith is a device of self-delusion, a sleight of hand done with words and emotions founded on any irrational notion that can be dreamed up. Faith is the attempt to coerce truth to surrender to whim. In simple terms, it is trying to breathe life into a lie by trying to outshine reality with the beauty of wishes. Faith is the refuge of fools, the ignorant, and the deluded, not of thinking, rational men.In reality, contradictions cannot exist. To believe in them you must abandon the most important thing you possess: your rational mind. The wager for such a bargain is your life. In such an exchange, you always lose what you have at stake.
Chainfire: Chapter 48, page 489
10. Willfully turning aside from the truth is treason to one's self.
Phantom: Chapter 12, page 127
11. The "Rule Unspoken", the "Rule Unwritten", "The rule from the beginning of time."
You are going to have to read the books to find out for yourself...
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