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dance of the walking dead

I want a vacation. I want to totally rest. I think it is a fools errand to take vacation to go do stuff. I want to do nothing. I want to expel no energy whatsoever.

Here is my plan for a restful vacation. I have saved up some money and I am going to admit myself to a hospital. I am going to demand tube feeding because it is a suckers game to spend all that time chewing and tasting. I would forego food all together but I think that dying would take more energy then just maintaining a caloric intake. Originally, I thought I would want to be on a ventilator so I didn’t have to breath on my own, but It looks rather uncomfortable. I decided on an iron lung. That way I don’t have to use muscles to expand or deflate my lungs. Again, I had an errant thought that perhaps I could retrofit one to also be a suntan booth, but I don’t even want my melanocytes to have to work that hard. There could be a TV in there playing movies that I didn’t have to think too hard, but all the energy of keeping my eyes open seems exhausting. There was one flaw to my plan, yep my heart. That silly thing just keeps pumping, it speeds up and slows down but it seems to be more reliable then any Timex I ever had. When I was an intern working in the ER, I was disimpacting a bowel (hmm another thought) when this horrific plunging noise came from the trauma area. IT repeated every 8 seconds or so and I had to see what was making the racket. “Hold everything,” I said to the constipated patron. In the other room was a huge machine with a plunger like apparatus. IT was shaped like a c-clamp and the plunger dove down the middle pinching to the gurney. Beneath the gurney was an enormous blue limp fellow. The only movement was the reflex movement or his arms and legs as “the thumper” performed CPR. The ER attending explained that the man was so big that no one could compress his chest well enough to perform CPR I asked how well it worked, and he replied, “only slightly better than not doing it at all.” My over active imagination immediately saw it as a garbage disposal for damaged hearts. I’m going to need “the thumper” please. I think 5 days will be refreshing and give me enough time to be ready to return to work, pale, thumped, and well rested.

I have lived a life on life support. The reality I am facing is that I spent time just surviving and not really living. I didn’t let my melanocytes work and it stopped the glow of joy. I feared life and it dulled my experience and my participation. I hid in the darkness, shutting myself off from the Sunlight. I refused to be inspired or to inspire. I longed to breath but held my breath wanting to keep what I had at the cost of not letting anything else in. I begged for the thumper, my heart is broken and damaged and instead of letting it heal, I covered it in layers of inert thought living it on like fatty tissue. I kept longing for the old familiar beat of every 8 seconds instead of letting the changes occur naturally and living into them instead o running away. I help on to the waste and garbage. I retained all the pain and despair .I was the walking dead.

There is a moment in time that all life began. Regardless of world view, at one point nothing, in the next everything. I have had 2 such moments. One I don’t remember except for some masked man spanking my cold butt. The other was nothing more than a whisper. It said, “Trudge.” For me the definition of trudge is “walk with purpose.” Slowly, I listened. The word echoes in my brain and in my heart (now beating on its own, thank you). I knew I was not completely sane if I was choosing death over life and I made a decision to follow that voice. I began by looking at and eliminating the waste I had accumulated. There would always be residual and more would appear, but I can deal with that when it happens. I asked the voice to remove the thumper and teach me to mend my broken and misguided heart. As that happened, I began to be inspired by others who have begun to dance the dance of the living rather than the walking dead. I joined in the mainstream of life. I took a deep breath, letting the wind dwell inside. The Ruah (wind or Holy Spirit) danced inside. It was gasping and choking breath at the start. It felt foreign and unnatural. It burned like when it is hot and humid outside. The Spirit inspired.

There are times that I still want a vacation. It isn’t always easy. I am still mending a broken heart and will breath short rapid breaths that do little to fully inspire. I long for easy. I long for love. I strive to Trudge.

 

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Posted by on July 8, 2017 in journey, life

 

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Zelda meets the boy

zelda and meZelda the Wonderbus is magical. I knew it as soon as they unloaded her from the trailer. There was something special about her. I imagined adventures rivaled only by Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I jumped in and wheeled around the block. I got a few honks and waved proudly. The horn didnt work or I would have tooted gleefully. It was a few days later that I found out my brake lights and turn signals didnt work and decided the honkers were not waving at me like I thought. I had that fixed and got to work. I put in a laminated wood floor. I stained the cabinets and got new hinges for her. I put in a sound system. I bought seat covers. I sewed a new screen on her tent. We bonded. I think she cherished our time together. She always starts and she garnishes grins everywhere we go. She is even playful, once popping out of gear as I wrestled with the netting. She just wanted to be close to me as I had to scramble to the front to apply the brakes. Zany Zelda.

I have been in a quandry as of late. I find my self romanticizing the past and dwelling on love lost. I have oscillated between feeling like I should live out an 80’s movie and hold up a boom box or some other grand gesture or dive into self remorse and flagellation. I have been doing counseling and trying to learn about myself and why I function like this. It hasnt been easy. What I have found is that I have been unable to really relate to people my whole life. I have not been good at forming attachments or relationships. I, immediately, go to the needy stage and live only as others see me. I had no true self.

My long term relationship worked because she was all too happy to feed me an identity. After I got sober and started to come alive, it disturbed her. She withdrew and I panicked. I did not know myself and I did not know how to be in a relationship. However, I was tired of being dead and couldnt go back again. It crumbled and neither of us knew how to deal with it as evidenced by how nasty it became.

I spend some time trying to understand. I stood strong with my daughters and against some of the slings and arrows. I didnt crumble. I got knocked down a lot and always got back up. Things kept getting worse. I kept soberly moving forward. It started to brighten when I reconnected with an old friend of mine. We dated on and off for about a year. Looking back, I wasnt ready. I still had no idea how to be in a relationship. I had no idea how to love. What needed to start from the inside wasnt there. I quickly saw myself only as she saw me. I wanted to be that guy and was willing to try and be so. When I fell short, I would run away. It became too painful for either of us. However, I still cherish the time we spent together. I did better in that relationship than I had ever done before.zelda with seven

Zelda and I went camping this weekend. She is spruced up and full of style. We decided to stay close but go somewhere I hadnt been before. I have been really pondering who I am and how I fit into this crazy world and taking a break from that would be awesome. Zelda is magical. Not in the fortune telling way like the machine in, “Big”. Or in the fantasy way like in the video game way. She is magical as she just wanted to be with me. She trudged her way up the hill at 60-65 mph (impossible many VW owners say). We found an unoccupied free camping site right next to a stream. We parked and I set up the site. Really, I unfolded the bed and put my memory foam topper on it. I sat with her and read. I listen to her sounds. She listen to me breath. I will neither confirm nor deny that I spent some time talking with her. The magic part is that she allowed me to see what had happened to me and what was happening now. She opened my eyes to the fact that I had isolated all over again. I was afraid. I have ben afraid since I was a kid. I am afraid that someone will tease me. I am afraid that I wont be liked. I am afraid I will be called a coward. I am afraid that I am “less than.” When the bottom fell out of my life, I didnt have to be afraid anymore. I knew that I could survive and be ok with next to nothing. As friends, collegues, family turned their back on me, I saw the truth of who was left. As I scrambled financially, I saw the truth of wants versus needs. As I felt unforgiven and judged by the church universal, I say the loving and forgiving Grace of God. I felt the comfort of Abba. What Zelda showed me is that I am afraid again. I moved to an unfamiliar state, took a different job, left a love interest, set up house in a place 8 hours from anyone I knew. I went to meetings that have a different style and felt wrong. I agreed to restrictions I found silly and misdirected. I was over my head, alone, and without defenses. I was scared. I didnt think I was. I had fought hard to get here. I figured I would just keep fighting. The meetings got wierder, the job prospects unsteady. I wanted to go back to where I was before. I needed someone to tell me who I was and that I would be ok. I was addicted to avoiding my inner self, my true self. Zelda showed me. Under the fear, behind the locked door of my heart, hidden in the corner is that scared boy. He wants to relate. He wants to love. He wants to not be afraid. His arms are outstretched. I hugged that boy this weekend. I told him he was very brave for trying so hard. He was very smart for figuring out a way to get his needs met for so long. He is “just enough.”

Zelda started right up when I headed home.zelda front

 
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Posted by on August 30, 2015 in journey, life

 

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blind, blind, blind, BLIND

“Turn left”

“forward”

“less forward”

“arms out”

Blind Man’s bluff. Remember this game? Also used as a group building, communication exercise. One person is completely blindfolded. An obstacle course is set out with a myriad of traps and knee-busting barriers. At the end is some flag, or medal, or prize of some sort. Your partner stands aloft and yells instructions to you that, frankly, never make any sense. Everyone has a great laugh as you stumble through the course. They giggle as you pick up the items meant to disguise from the real treat. The caller begins to get frustrated at the communication gaps and yells more forcibly. Many times it dissolves into verbal altercation. On Survivor, I’ve seen it get physical.

Take the same people. Blindfold one and let the other walk beside him through the course. The voices remain calm. The giggling stops, the laughing ceases. The fake prizes are moot. The seeing friend alerts to the misdirection, shares the experience with their friend. They walk shoulder to shoulder or hand in hand to the goal together. They share in the journey. They partnered rather than ordered. There was companionship through the twists and turns of the course, rather than frustration and yelling.

I feel like I have been playing a cosmic version of Blind Man’s Bluff. thYM006QUTI have been lost for some time now. I am totally blinded to the course and the prize. I have stumbled around and did my best to hear the soft voice above the cacophony of jeering or cheering voices. I was frustrated, discouraged, and unsettled. I clung to one base, knowing it wasn’t the final prize. It was safe and comfortable. Walking away would be scary. I wouldn’t ever be able to cling to it again. I wouldn’t even be able to find it again. I would try. I was afraid. I would have a false bravado at resuming the course. I’d hear the whisper and begin to move again. I’d leave the security. I’d take a few steps and the voice would quiet.

I clamor for a partner. I felt it as a need. I felt like I couldn’t do this alone. I needed someone to help me. I needed someone to depend on. I found someone for a brief moment in time. My need suffocated them. I felt more alone after they left. I was lost, and now, lonely.

I drifted above the maze. I saw me bumping into different objects. I saw my knees and shins bleed. I saw the giggling, the condemnation, the judgment. I watched my pained smile. I saw the tears and the fears. I saw the loss. I ventured to the whisper. I got to glimpse the design of the game. The purpose. The real prize. Both people were blindfolded. The prize was not the prize, but sharing the journey. Helping each other towards the end, growing and changing, laughing and crying, is the point.

I know something is on the horizon for me. I have stumbled and listened. I have tried, failed, and succeeded. I have loved, lost, and lived. I have been knocked down and gotten up. I know it is there. I can feel it. I call it HOPE. hopeinfieldI call it LOVE. I call it JOURNEY. I am frustrated as it feels so distant. It seems as I travel to the horizon, it never gets closer.

“Trudge forward, my friend.”th3AJM7KLS

 
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Posted by on June 2, 2015 in faith, journey, life

 

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