The last 3 nights I have been unable to meditate. Sleep has been impossible because of the running thoughts in my head. Nothing specific, just a muddling of everything. Anxiety, stress, worry, anger, sadness, depression. All the negative things in life. When I meditate, really profound things come to me, and I will write them down. Realizations about my life, lie in general, the human condition, or the Universe as a whole. Recently I began to share these on facebook. I've been contacted by new friends saying they never thought I was so profound. I've been contacted by old friends saying "It's about fucking time you opened up and shared this with the rest of the world." I guess I always thought such thoughts were crazy and people didn't want to hear them. HUGS AN KISSES to my friends.
I'm starting this blog oddly enough because I came upon the blog of a person I considered a hateful C**T. In this blog I came to realize that his journey and struggles with life were similar to mine. After only reading the most recent post, it seemed to touch me in a way that made me want to open up about my life. This blog is a way for my to acknowledge and confront my baggage. It is also a way for me to be more aware of the amazing things in my life and the amazing things I've done and of which I am capable.
After several months of harassment and stalking last year I went into serious decline. The experience has really left me very paranoid about people. In essence I am scarred. I came to realize in the summer that I can add this is a piece of baggage to my U-Haul of life. I now find it hard to trust new people. In the back of my head I think "This may actually be the person who was harassing me (us ???) last year." I know, very paranoid and not rational, but this is the state of being currently. I'm sure this will change, but...
IN THE BEGINNING:
Strangely meditation has been a good outlet for me for the past 6-7 years. (I can not believe it has been that long!!!) Sometimes I fail, but when it works it is comforting. However it has been a part of my life since I was about 13 or 14. At an early age I became very connected to the natural world and plants in general. From mosses, to club mosses, to ferns, to any flowering plant, I was connected. I created a garden in the back yard in a corner where my grandfather had no interests (more on the grandfather later, I'm sure) and so I had my own space. The garden started as a patch of flat land, in a wet corner of the yard between the two adjoining properties, as a way to protect a colony of Onoclea sensibilis (Sensitive Fern). After several attempts to convince my grandfather not to mow them down (and failing), I simply placed a brick boarder around them and weeded the grass from around them. This was the beginning of a really beautiful thing.
Over the years the "Zen Wildflower Garden" has grown from a 6 square feet) to an area 250 feet by (probably) 750 feet. The garden consists of a short flat area at the back of the property which then ascends to a wooded hillside at about a 25 degree angle. The wooded setting has been amazing for me with my connection to the real world. Many plants native to the property have been cultivated and nurtured for over 30 years. Many additional plants have been added as well from collecting trips, trading plants with friends, or purchasing. Early on a large, smooth, flat, rounded rock became central. It was a good place to sit. Looking back I realize I was sitting on this rock and meditating. Crossed legged, I would sit and just drum out the world. Listening to the air, birds, leaves rustling. Smelling the leaf mold, floral fragrances, and earthiness about me.
I realize now that the cultivation and nurturing of this garden is the only thing that kept me from complete self destruction. The act of taking a digger and transplanting a fern or other plant was cathartic. It closed of my negative self and opened me to a positive self. Watching things grow and thrive was very cathartic. (Yes, I will probably use cathartic a lot.)
This was my first inkling that I was a part of the natural world. I watched plants grow. I watched plants be consumed by insects. I watched birds eat the insects. I watched bird dung dissolve on the ground. I watched plants grow, flourish, blossom, then die in the late fall. I watched fallen, moldy, brown leaves become the soil.
Orchids became a part of my life the March of my 13th year. Not realizing it at the time, but this was a way to bring my garden inside. This became my green haven for the dark, cold, gray winter. My garden and orchids became my haven through high school bullying and general nonacceptance of me by my grandfather and brother. Early on I realized I was attracted to boys and not girls. I think my own personal fears made me an easy target.
This is my first baggage. The repressed desires of a child wanting to be accepted by family and peers. (This never really happened until a few years ago.) Grade school and high school were marred by my increased supression of my wants, needs, and desires.
LATER FORMATIVE YEARS:
I survived high school and made it to college in 1988. I joined a fraternity thinking this is the way to go. After two years at Washington & Jefferson I transferred to Penn State. One year at the local campus and I was off to University Park. While there I re-affiliated with my fraternity.
After a year of drunken times and some studying, I became close enough to a few people to come out as "bi". Oddly enough my 2 closest friends at the time also came out to me. I felt amazing. I was validated. I became gay overnight and soon lost touch of my studying. I dropped out of school to major in being gay. I soon started going to the local gay bar (gay only on Sundays). This is where I met Garren. Garren is the source for my second installment of major baggage.
GARREN:
Garren was the first man with which I was intimate. I was 23. I had learned growing up that intimacy meant love and so I fell in love with him. After a short time I had him move in with me at the fraternity. He took me to visit his mother and father. He took me to a family picnic. I felt I had found my mate.
Short story long, Garren was not interested in being tied down. After a short time of him coming and going drunk and disappearing I asked him to leave. For over a year we ran into each other constantly at the gay clubs (there were now 3 I was aware of). I pined for the intimacy I had with him. Intimacy in this case being sex to him.
He resurfaced about a year after I met him. He called out of the blue (it was a Tuesday). He came over and we talked for hours. He opened up about some of his baggage from his past. Long story short after this I thought we were getting back together. I called him a few days later and he told me, "Oh no, I have a bf.", even though he told me this person broke up with him. Crushed, I did what I always did then, moped and sulked. A week to the day later he called me crying, depressed, desperate, and very drunk. I called a friend to get a ride to his place because I knew "this would not end well". I called him back and he was on the phone with his "bf". He called back and we talked. Actually I talked and he blubbered. The last thing I remember telling him was "I love you. Please Garren, I love you."
Then I heard the shot. It must have been only a minute, but it felt like a lifetime, but the phone went dead. I called back and his father picked up. I asked if I could speak to Garren and he said "Garren shot himself, we think he's dead". I died inside. I lost it. I cried like I never did before. Then my friend knocked at the door. I told here what happened and we headed to his house. As we drove up the paramedics were bringing out his body. I sat inside talking to his mother as the paramedics rushed around.
The next day two other female friends arrived to stay with me. They thought a good way to deal with this was to get drunk. I sat in a straight bar crying my eyes out with my tow friends. Looking back not one person in the bar stared at me or otherwise was freaked by this big, strong, good looking man blubbering like an idiot. We went back to my apartment. After some time, the full force of the experience hit me. I would never see Garren again. I took a butcher knife to my chest. One of my friends stopped me in time and I was off to the funny farm. Nuff about the chronology for now...
REALIZATIONS AND REVELATIONS:
I look back and realize that Garren was very disturbed. Sadly, if I met him now I probably wouldn't even talk to him because he was so drunk and so obviously on a path to destruction. This hurts me because, for years I thought I should have been able to say something to save him, because I loved him. However I realize now (how cold does this sound) that it was a learning experience. I learned that sex does not = love to everyone. I learned that joy must be cherished while it happens because it can turn into horror in a split second. I learned that baggage can kill if not dealt with properly. I learned that life is precious and once taken can never be replaced.
This was my second inkling that I was a part of the natural world. That life is a circle. Life is born, lives, endures, then dies. It is important to not take life for granted. Everyone is a part of the bigger whole. Everyone has an impact. Garren impacted my life in a tragic way. I impacted his by loving him, giving him compassion and empathy, and by easing his passage onto the next stage of existence. The last thing he heard was "I love you. Please Garren, I love you." With that I take great solace. His last words were of unconditional love.
GREAT! Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDelete