In the Spring of 2017, post-abandonment, I began working as a youth counselor in Napa, California for the Mosaic Project on the campgrounds of the Lighthouse for the Blind. Hours were intense. I woke at 6am to meditate and exercise before my shift began by 8am. The work day typically ended at 12am. Staff were required to act, sing, dance as well as facilitate self-esteem workshops to young grade school children After the children were put to bed, staff would attend a meeting from 9pm to midnight in which plenty of food was available. Staff would routinely eat throughout the day to refuel to meet the demands of work. I sought alone time during breaks by lifting 30 pound free weights, reading my texts -Shakti Gawan's Creative Visualization, Frost's Tantric Yoga, Lama Yeshe's An Introduction to Tantra, and SSOTBME's An Essay on Magic - while doing yoga poses or meditating on the sounds of nature while basking in the sun. There was a moderately steep hill that I was required to go up and down multiple times a day and night. It was a mile long. I carried a Chrome Industries backpack throughout the day and night weighed down with two water bottles, food, supplies and other sundries to add to the climb. One of my duties was being in charge of the lost and found. It would require me to additionally carry a large tub filled with wet clothes weighing twenty or more pounds down a steep short cut into the main campgrounds. It was hot - a typical northern California dry heat - adding to the sweaty often physically demanding nature of the job. After the first week, I brought a single-speed bicycle to ride up and down the hill during the mornings before my shift began. Soon as tensions between staff and campground employees became tense, I returned the bike home and brought my jogging shoes. I would run roughly two miles up and down a couple hundred feet of hills to start my morning after doing yoga poses with stretchbands and/or hand grips. Later I found a balancing rope that I included into my various fitness routines. On the 36hr military like weekends (half Friday, Saturday and half Sunday), I would find time to ride my bicycle up to 60 miles at most. When my contract ended, I was fit and pleased with my body. My shoulders became more broad, abs re-developed, my neck's thickness shrank and I was reinvigorated with a new found energy Soon after I began working in San Francisco as a bike tour guide. My job required me to take tourists from Fishermans Wharf, the Marina, the Presidio and over the Golden Gate Bridge and back. Since it was the height of tourist season I would often have back to back tours. When I would return home to Oakland, it would not be uncommon to clock in 60 plus miles. During tourist season I would on average ride 150 miles a week. After a tour, I was often required to work on bicycles lifting heavy 50 pound Cannondale Hybrid Adventures onto a bike repair stand. Such repetitive work helped define muscle mass in my upper arms. When I would commute home, I would execute yoga poses while riding the ferry to Oakland. I would receive a lot of glares; however, fitness was the utmost importance to me. On my time off I still found time to Go Go dance at the Cat Club in San Francisco or the Uptown in Oakland. Within dance I located the divine - the equilibrium between masculine and feminine with the help of Tantra. My outfits became more risky and I showed more skin as I became comfortable with my newly sculpted body; however, I began to dance more with my eyes closed or with my Tibetan blue polka dot scarf covering my head. To my elation, I would discover photographs of me taken by photographers capturing my aura - often blue - the color of love. Despite being separated, alone, and without a "sex-life" compounded by a sexless marriage I am at ease with what is. I am. I am divine. It is not uncommon for people living with (C)PTSD to constantly relive their traumas through retelling their narratives to others - like a broken record - or replaying events in the mind often to the point of paralysis. Movement - be it dance, cycling, yoga, weight and/or resistance training - all help me ground and live in the present moment. I temporarily let go of the past and experience sensations of the body - new sensations discovered through exercise as the body morphs into a product of my own creation - not impacted by others (unless of course there is an accident or assault). The newly found sensations inhibits a sense of wonder that I thought was long lost and ultimately serves as the highest form of entertainment. I am no longer entertained by watching the fictitious lives of others on the bigscreen, TV or in books. It doesn't interest me at all (however, I had to see Blade Runner 2049). My own body has become a positive narrative after years of self-harm through drinking, over-eating, smoking, etc. This coupled with acupuncture and reading a variety of spiritual, "self-help," therapeutic and/or medicinal texts have proven to be a potent mix for my recovery. The journey, post-abandonment, has been filled with illuminating experiences for my mind and spirit. Since spring, I have attended East Bay Meditation Center religiously - often up to four times a week in-between jobs. I attended workshops on cord-cutting to let go of my marriage, intention, completed a Bodhisattva course and took my Buddhist vows and precepts. Within this, I have come to the realization that we are indeed interconnected. Through the sharing of stories with fellow members of the Sangha (community) - I have found that some of us have a collective trauma and many seek the path to recovery. It is not about Western preoccupations of minimalism, nebulous enlightenment, Asian derived fashion, and/or mysticism in some convoluted Asiaphile-like inspired fetish. It is about healing. It is about humanity. It is about liberation. Within my journey thus far, I have encountered Bodhisattvas - Kwan Yin (the Goddess of Compassion), Amitabha (the peacock is his vehicle), Manjushri (the one who slices through B.S.) and Tara (liberation). I have fostered a relationship with a nun in my neighborhood of the Quan Am Tu (Kwan Yin Shrine) of the East Lake neighborhood of East Oakland. Whenever we share stories, she says all-knowingly, "I know" despite things often being lost in translation. Kwan Yin in particular hears the cries of the world and appears in times of need. I liken my tears to hers. The tears that sometimes flow uncontrollably when I awake or am triggered unknowingly. I let them flow. I am not ashamed. Boddhisattvas and boddhicitta (compassion for all beings) has given me insight into my own suffering as a gift that has allowed me to develop and recognize my life as an empath and has also provided a great lesson. The lesson is discernment between compassion and empathy. One can have compassion for all; however, empathy requires discernment. It is unwise to have empathy for all. To do so is to have no boundaries. This is where self-care is crucial. For those of us living with (C)PTSD this is an integral lesson one must come to realize. Otherwise we will be helping others with a half empty cup and die from thirst. Lastly, it is important to understand this: "you cannot control what created you, but you can control your creation." Be it through the arts, cooking, gardening, dance, exercise, building - what have you - what you create is a gift. We may not be able to control the external forces of our environment or what has happened to us, but we can control one thing with practice and that is our minds. Through meditation - be it through movement, creation, breathing, repetitive work, one may be able to temporarily take the needle off the skipping record, take the record off the platter and put it back in its sleeve and onto the shelf. Open a new record. Your life. By living in present. It sounds easy. It is. And it isn't. In closing I share with you Shantideva's Bodhicarayavatara as inspiration for your journey on the road to recovery. It always brings me to tears: May I be a protector to those without protection A leader for those who journey And a boat, a bridge, a passage For those desiring the further shore. May the pain of every living creature Be completely cleared away. May I be the doctor and the medicine And may I be the nurse For all sick beings in the world Until everyone is healed. Just like space And the great elements such as earth, May I always support the life Of all the boundless creatures. And until they pass away from pain May I also be the source of life For all the realms of varied beings That reach unto the ends of space. "Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha!"
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AuthorDarren Brown, PhD. ArchivesCategories |