Tag Archives: My Story

Sleeping Injury

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Carpet Burn

A few weeks ago I suffered a sleeping injury.  I was dreaming I was with a truck convoy heading south from Denver.  There were many identical white trucks.  I was one of the leaders.

South of Pueblo we passed some spectacular scenery looking like the red rock country in Utah.

We got into New Mexico and stopped for the night in a long tunnel.  I was asleep in the cab of my tractor-trailer rig when I woke up to see five entities coming toward me.  Four were translucent white, gliding along the tunnel.  The fifth was solid black.  They passed my truck than the black one turned and came directly toward me.  I screamed and bailed out of the truck.

The problem was I was not in a big truck, but in bed.  I must have been on my knees when I dove, because there was a loud crack when my head hit the floor and woke me up.  I sustained a carpet burn on my forehead and a concussion.  The carpet burn healed in a few days, no big deal.

The concussion was another matter.  I had some severe vertigo for a few days when I couldn’t stay upright.  I also had a steady headache and was sort of foggy.  The vertigo diminished, and the doctor gave me an exercise which eliminated it entirely.  The headache persisted for about three weeks.  The pain was about a four on a scale of one to ten.

The doctor told me to avoid bright light, including a computer screen, meaning I couldn’t write.  I don’t think I could have put something together anyway.  I rattled around the house and slept a lot.  I am mostly back to normal (whatever that is) now and back to my normal routine.

My scream woke my wife up and I dazedly crawled back into bed.  I have had intense dreams before, including some motion, but I never leaped out of bed.  In talking to other people, the events are relatively common.  One guy gets so violent in his dreams he has to sleep in a mummy sleeping bag to prevent damaging anything.

What does the dream mean?  I am told it probably means I have cleared some issues in my life up, but a big one remains.  I am slow to catch on to this stuff so it takes a whack on the head for me to get it.  I don’t like malevolent black ghosts scaring me out of bed.  Yes, I know what the issue is but I’m not telling.

Posted in Concussion, Current Activities, Dreams, Fear, Sleeping, Stories

Pride

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Pride has served me badly.  I put on a brave face all my life out of pride.  I wouldn’t acknowledge to anyone, including myself, how much I was hurting.  I was mourning my mother’s death, my rocky progress in school, my lack of athletic ability, and not understanding why I did impulsive things I instantly regretted.

I stood tall, lied, and ignored my feelings.  Fakery and bullshit were my default modes.  I’m smart, so I often got away with it unless I had to prove it.  “Admit nothing, deny everything, make counter accusations.”  I was great at counter accusations because of my well-tuned bullshit detector.   I operated this way for probably 60 years.

In more recent years I developed enough self-awareness to detect my own bullshit.  Mostly.  I knew about my ADD/ADHD and had years of therapy and various group activities to build a reservoir of mostly honest behavior.  Except for the addictions.  Pride kept them in the closet.  I drank and drugged without admitting my helplessness.

I like to accuse oil companies of lying, cheating, and stealing.  I saw it because I was doing the same thing.  About three years ago my therapist / Jungian Analyst/ Addiction Counselor looked me in the eye and said “You are an Alcoholic.” did I begin getting it.  Despite all my prideful front, I was a mess.  I quit drinking and got serious about wrestling with my non-substance related addictions.  I go to meetings, pray, and meditate.

For the first time in my life I may be getting past all the pride and deception.  I do have to say the wrestling with non-substance addiction is a win some, lose some proposition.  Maybe I have to be more honest, less secretive, and humble with my shortcomings.

Posted in ADD/ADHD, Addiction, Alcohol, Meditation, Pride, Stories

Drinking

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I don’t drink.  I am coming up on three years alcohol free.  I don’t know how many other times I have quit, starting when I was seventeen.  I started drinking when I was fifteen, if you count Coors 3.2 beer as alcohol.  It isn’t very strong, so I just drank more.  I started and stopped several times after the first time.

My mother was an alcoholic, my father drank quite a bit.  Their entire social circle revolved around drinking.  One of my mother’s best friends choked to death on her own vomit on the kitchen floor.  One of her kids found her.  Alcohol was the culture I grew up with.

One of the issues I live with is ADD/ADHD.  Growing up, I knew something was wrong – always in trouble, unable do do schoolwork I wasn’t interested in, lots of other stuff.  I thought of it as the Fatal Flaw.  I have managed to lurch along with the ADD, but it affected all my life.  My college transcript is mostly A’s and F’s.  It helped ruin my first marriage.  The deal with it, I drank and did dope.

I used to buy pot by the quarter pound.  I never bought booze in less than 1&1/2 liter bottles, beer by the case.  A friend and I would go to the beer joint and drink seven pitchers in an evening.  I smoked three packs of cigarettes every day, more when drinking.

All the drugs and alcohol were self medicating.  I was heavily medicated for a long time.  I started therapy more than 30 years ago.  It seemed to help in a lot of areas, but the addictions remained. One day in a therapy session the therapist stopped and asked me if I had ever been evaluated for ADD.  Well, no.  That evening I did a checklist.  I was 48 out of 50 questions.

That is when my life began to change.  It all took a while, I didn’t stop drinking for about fifteen years, but I was doing better in lots of other areas.  I can now do tasks I was previously incapable of even starting.  It took a lot of cognitive therapy and the stimulant medication to get my prefrontal cortex working without stirring up a bunch of drama.

You are aware alcoholics go to lots of meetings.  I go to two meetings every week.  They are a tremendous help as other alcoholics share their experience, strength, and hope.  We humans need to associate with others  and the meetings are healthier than bars.

I am fairly sure I will never drink again.  That’s good, because it would kill me.  My stomach doesn’t like alcohol and kicks up a real fuss when I drink.  I like not having my stomach hurt.

I don’t agree with all the concepts of the program, but I can live with it.  Spending time with a bunch of sober alcoholics is a constant reinforcement for my sobriety.  As we say at the end of meetings, “Keep coming back, it works if you work it.”

Posted in ADD/ADHD, Addiction, Alcohol, Alcoholism, Craving, My Story, Stories

The Squirrel War

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We have a bird feeder in the back yard so we can watch birds from our sun room.  When we started there was trouble.  Squirrels.  They are fun to watch in their own right, but they are voracious little creatures.  In addition, they seem to do fine without being fed.  On the other hand, we have noticed an increase in the bird population when we feed them in winter.

I should say we feed finches and sparrows.  At first we inadvertently fed pigeons, but many modifications to our feeder we got them to stay away.  I tried shooting the pigeons with a pellet gun, but it is illegal in Denver.  As a kid I shot lots of pigeons in Fruita, but Fruita was not a city.  It is now. After several years and many squirrel proofing modifications the feeder finally wore out.

The new feeder is not squirrel proof, even though it was billed as such.  The little vandals leapt from the tree.  We moved the feeder.  They now shinny up the pole and jump over to the feeder.  I think our resident female squirrel also leaps up from the ground, but we have yet to see her in the act.  I can raise the feeder if she is jumping up.

To stop the pole shinnying I put a slick pvc pipe over the one inch steel pole. It didn’t work, it makes shinnying easier.  The old feeder had a woven wire cage around it the birds could pass through but kept squirrels out.  This one has the perches in the open air.  I have thought about electrifying the pole, but it seems extreme.

I have also considered some kind of barrier between the pole and feeder, but it would be ugly.  I could also install a motion activated noise cannon.  No, the neighbors would disapprove.  How about some kind of moat?  No, it would freeze in winter.  A dog or cat?  Yes, they would do the job when outside, but not all the time.  They would also be hard on the garden.  The rabbits are enough critters in the yard.

Some kind of trip wire apparatus would work, but is too complex.  Besides, what would they fall into?  I think my next try is a ½ inch spaces woven wire disk on the pole, suggested by a guest at Thanksgiving.   They would try to climb around the ends but if the disk is secured so it will tilt with weight on it, it might throw the squirrel off.  if you have any ideas, let me know.  Just remember our adversaries are clever, athletic, and persistent.

Is resistance futile?

Posted in Bird Feeder, Current Activities, Gardening, My Story, Squirrel War, Stories

Western Colorado Road Trip

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Recently I had a meeting in Gunnison, so I made a short trip of it.  From Denver I went up to Buena Vista and over Monarch Pass, but this time I went over the old Monarch Pass road, abandoned when the highway on upper reaches of the Pass was widened and straightened.  Modern mountain highways are expensive, moving mountainsides and filling low spots.  The older roads tended to follow the lay of the land more closely.  They were cheaper to build but slower and more dangerous.

I like the old roads, even more if they aren’t paved.  Old Monarch Pass follows the recipe.  It’s narrow, winds around and goes up and down.  It had about three inches of partially melted snow, making for some slick spots and lots of mud, but not the mud that likes to trap unsuspecting cars.  I was going slow, so I got to enjoy the scenery and a pretty day.  I rolled the windows down, opening up my steel cocoon a bit.  Good thing.

I stayed in Gunnison, and next morning I drove up to Crested Butte, one of my favorite ski towns, with some of the flavor of an old mining town remaining, in contrast to the modern European Chalet style of Vail.  No  McDonald’s, no chain restaurants, and lots of local businesses.  I had coffee in a place without WiFi.

Kebler Pass during the Aspen Color

Next was Kebler Pass, one of the best drives in the state.  It goes from Crested Butte to east of Paonia, and is mixed gravel and pavement.  If you want the best fall aspen viewing in Colorado, Kebler Pass is the place.  Huge stands of quakies with good mountain backdrops.  The leaves were gone on this trip, but the beauty remains.  To the south are the West Elk mountains and and a large, mostly untraveled wilderness area.  The Elk Mountains are North and east, some of the wildest peaks in the state.

I was in big, beautiful, rugged country mostly empty of human development.  Emptiness and solitude, part of why I love Western Colorado.  The road comes out outside of Somerset, a coal mining town between Paonia and McClure Pass above Carbondale.  Big coal mines there, mostly shut down.  That’s mining in Colorado.  Dig lots of stuff, then go broke and leave a big mess behind.

I like Paonia, fruit trees below mountains, no McDonalds, no Walmart, as it should be.  There is lots of pretty farm country from Paonia to the turnoff to Grand Mesa outside Delta.  The Grand Mesa road climbs to the top of the 10000 foot tall flat topped Mesa.  It’s wet country, catching the storms coming across the desert country to the west.  My main memories are going fishing there with my father.  Lots of lakes, mosquitoes, gnats, and

View From Lands End. Impossible to Photograph the Panorama

cold nights.  I did not become a fisherman.  The Land’s End road runs west from the highway to the rim of the Mesa.  The view is unsurpassed.  The San Juan’s to the south, the Uncompahgre Plateau across the Gunnison River valley to the west, and the Grand Valley of the Colorado under the Bookcliffs and the Roan Plateau.  You can see into Utah.  The road winds off the Mesa to Whitewater.  Steep and twisty gravel.  I’m saving that part for next time.

I went on over the mesa to Collbran, where I continued my search for the big landslide off the mesa that killed three men running a mile off the mountain.  I didn’t find it, but ran round some nice farm and ranch country while looking.  When I got home I printed out a map.  Duh.

Colorado River Below Kremmling

That night I stayed in Parachute off I-70 in oilfield country.  Enough about that.  Next day I followed the Colorado River from Dotsero to Highway 40 at Kremmling.   Again, I crossed a lot of wild country with a bit of development in spots.  The river runs in a succession of canyons and narrow valleys.  No spectacular mountains, just lots of good rugged country.

After Kremmling, Highway 40, Granby, Winter Park, and Berthoud Pass to eastern Colorado, and home.

Posted in Colorado River, Kebler Pass, Lands End, Old Monarch Pass, Road Trips, Stories, Western Colorado

Greed

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Gollum

Greed is the prime mover for most of the bad things happening on our world.  The bulk of criminal activity is motivated by greed-people taking what is not rightly theirs.  Wars are motivated by a quest for power.  Performers want recognition and fame.  Addictions arise from attempts to mask pain or discomfort.  They are a means to feel better, if only briefly.  The root cause of greed is an attempt to satisfy something missing in a person’s life. Their belief is acquiring something: wealth, adulation, power, health, or sexual gratification will fulfill their need.

The needs are based on believing acquisitions will lead to happiness and contentment.  This can be temporarily true, but discontent always lurks in the wings.  Our consumer culture is based on greed.  Buy the right car, drink the right beer, take the right medication and all will be well.  Not so, folks.

From birth, people strive to meet their basic needs.  Babies cry when they are hungry, cold, wet, Ill, or alone.  When they cry, needs are met.  When they smile and laugh, needs are met.  They learn strategies to meet their needs.  If discontent arises for some reason, they apply the strategies to assuage the discontent.

Problem is, fulfilling survival and acquisition needs does not satisfy all we humans need for a fulfilled life.  Love, friendship, helping others, creating, and learning are also needs all people share.  The difference is they are truly fulfilling because they are meaningful accomplishments, not mere acquisition.

We are animals with animal needs.  Twisting animal needs into greed is ultimately a dead end because the animal will inevitably die and all that stuff is meaningless.  As Americans, we are somewhat challenged.  Most have the basic needs met, but we are inundated with messages telling us how important it is to acquire to be happy.  Barring living in a cave or on the street, it is almost impossible to avoid the selling.

I am sitting here in the coffee shop with my high priced coffee and a pastry.  Coffee at home and my granola-muesli mix would be healthier and a lot less expensive.  I had a birthday yesterday and now I am wearing a cool wool vest I have desired for several years.  I think about cars, tools, fancy food, and gear.  Gear I will never use.  I buy books and keep them, some unread, when the library is just down the street.  I am always looking for the right hat to put on my bald head.

I drive to my spiritual group meetings.  I go on somewhat costly retreats when I can read and meditate at home.  My teacher says retreats are “upper middle” activities, but the messages imply they are important for reaching a spiritual goal.  What happened to meditating in a cave.  Well, drive to the cave and use a Jetboil stove from REI to cook rice and ramen.  Use a solar panel to recharge the smartphone.

Another word for greed is desire.  The fancy bicycle I don’t ride has a sticker saying “Trapped On the Wheel of Desire”.  Ice cream, chocolate, cheesecake, boots, the right blue jeans, wool socks, merino t-shirts, coffee, good movies, the right tires, Geology books, Dharma books, Harry Potter books and movies, my leather chair.  It seems I have a lot to let go of.

For me, an outgrowth of desire is obsession.  I don’t just want stuff, I obsess about it.  A large portion of my day goes to obsessing.  I guess I obsess to avoid feeling bad.  I don’t need to let go of obsessing, it’s feeling bad.  After all all the stuff I feel bad about is gone.  The only place it exists is in my mind.  I need a brain vacuum.

Greed and desire is not all of me.  I enjoy nature, I rejoice when the sun comes out after rainy days.  I love my life.  I have good friends and relatives, I like to learn, I like to write.  In fact, after 76 years, I think I am on the way.  It’s just a matter of more letting go. Breath in, breathe out.

 

Posted in Addiction, Craving, Depression, Greed, My Story, Obsession, Stories, Suffering

Stuck

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Stuck

Stuck is my current problem.  I have not been able to write a word for a couple of weeks.  That problem seems to be receding.  Writer’s block and my general lethargy stems from a deeper problem.

First, some of what I know of the Buddha’s thinking.  One of his core concepts is about what today we call the ego.  In our regular thinking we treat our egos as permanent things stemming from what we are as beings.  Not so, folks.  We have made it all up.  We draw from our genetic makeup and our interpretation of our experiences in living to form a sense of self.  This is necessary for our survival, both as individuals and a species.

In the tribe, boys learned how to hunt from the tribal hunters.  Girls learned how to have and raise children from other mothers.  Everyone’s experiences are somewhat unique, but have a lot of commonality with others around us.  If things go well, children grow up to be healthy, capable members of their group.

Often, however, things go wrong.  Trauma, disfigurement, disease, and deprivation can lead a person to develop a wounded ego.  This is true of all of us to some degree.  The wounded ego suffers.  Suffering prevents us from reaching our deepest innermost being, the condition often called emptiness.  It is pure being, free of suffering stemming from the decisions we have made about ourselves.  It is often called enlightenment.  A better word is peace.

Insight Meditation can lead to the state where we have let go of all the encumbrances of ego.  It doesn’t mean ceasing to act much like the suffering person we were once were.  It doesn’t eliminate the need to cope with the tasks of living in the world, (especially a world containing Republicans.)  it’s clarity, freedom free of suffering but not of pain, grief, infirmity, and death.

I have tried to reach this goal for a large part of my life.  I tried many paths, Christianity, Buddhism, raging atheism, and trying to ignore the whole mess.  An amalgam of the teachings and lives of Jesus and the Buddha is what I have settled on.  It works for me, and much of my suffering is gone, let go.

But not all.  As a young child I experienced some abuse that seems to have gone to the very core of my being.  I have had profound, life changing spiritual experiences.  I have had over thirty years of therapy, I take medication for depression and ADD/HD.  (not to mention prostate medication). My spiritual work has done the most good, but the other stuff is important.  I couldn’t meditate or write before I got effective ADD treatment at age 59.

Still, the deep reservoir of unease and discomfort remains.  Now, I am not the greatest practitioner of Insight Meditation or prayer, although I practice them every day, sometimes for much of the day.  I still go to therapy, go to meetings a couple of days every week, see my shrink, actively meditate and study the dharma.  They help tremendously.  Drugs, alcohol, and the motorcycle did not work.

That pool of existential isolation remains.  My teachers tell me to continue the process and I will, but I have times when I despair.  Is it karma, I am destined to suffer throughout this lifetime?  Or as my teachers say, I just need to persevere.  Well, I will persevere, continue the struggle.

I usually can chug along just fine, but a few weeks ago, one of my teachers said the continued practice of letting go will do it.  It hasn’t, not that deep pool of anguish.  His saying that just triggered more agony. This stuff sure is taking a long time, and I am not sure it will ever work.  Do you have any ideas?  Maybe I need to go to the mountains.

Posted in ADD/ADHD, Buddhism, Insight Meditation, Jesus, Meditation, Stories, Stuck, Suffering, Writing

Legs

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I am a limper.  I limp more than most people.  In my younger days I was always spraining an ankle.  High school football marked the start of my knee adventures when I partially tore my anterior cruciate ligament.  I was born with chondromalacia, meaning my kneecaps are somewhat askew, leading to arthritis at a relatively young age.  I had arthroscopic surgery on my right knee in my late 40s.    

In the meantime, I hiked, hunted, backpacked, played killer volleyball in the Army, and climbed over twenty fourteeners, mountains over 14,000 feet elevation.  I always experienced some pain during all that, but I just kept on truckin’.   

Sunshine and Redcloud Peaks

It all changed when I climbed Sunshine and Redcloud Peaks in the San Juan mountains.  It started as a fine day in country mostly new to me.  A great climb, with a lot of time sharing  the alpine tundra with the resident Pika.  It started clouding up as we dropped down from Sunshine on the way to Redcloud.  On the summit of Redcloud we were in a whiteout with horizontal snow.  We got scared when I took my hat off and my hair stood on end, what there was of it.

We headed down as fast as we could, having experienced lightning above timberline before.  People die that way.  We moved straight down, sort of loping down a scree field.  By the time we reached timberline I was hobbling, both knees screaming.  That was the end of my climbing and backpacking days.  I did climb Quandary Peak some years later, but I was climbing with people twenty years older than me and it is an easy climb for a fourteener.  

As a substitute I bought a motorcycle.  I had ridden in my younger years, but got away from motorcycles.  I have always sought out activities I have no business engaging in. I was repeating a risky activity beyond my ability.    

Posterior Cruciate Ligament

My first ride into the mountains was up Golden Gate Canyon, one of the many canyons carved down the face of the Colorado Front Range.  The canyons are all winding, scenic, and steep, making for great motorcycle rides.  There are hazards.  Wildlife, crazy drivers, bad weather, and debris on the road.  I went down sliding on some sand . My right knee hit the road, my tibia and fibula stopped, but my femur continued long enough to tear my posterior cruciate.  Ow, Ow, Ow.  After things healed a bit I kept riding and crashing without too much damage.  

One day at work I was walking along and SNAP, my ACL finally gave up.  The MCL was also gone so the only things holding my leg together was skin and muscle.  I now have a titanium knee. It works fine.  My left knee is not so good.  Most of the cartilage is gone and arthritis has set in.    

I get injections in my knee from time to time, and they help.  Some.  Mostly I live with some pain, cycling from mild to hobbling.  I will get another knee replacement some day.  I fall down.  I always have have to some degree, lacking much coordination.  Now it is worse as my balance is increasingly rocky.  I fall off ladders, down stairs, and even on level ground.    

On one of my trips down the stairs I bruised my left hip.  I figured it would heal, not being broken but no luck.  It’s sore, a lot, but aspirin and BenGay are helping.  The orthopedist I have gotten to know pretty well says there is arthritis and not much cartilage there.  She looked at me and suggested a hip and knee replacement.  Well, maybe someday.  

I look at these health issues as teachers.  Stuff doesn’t work well, it gets plugged up, it doesn’t want to flow, and it hurts. It is all likely to get worse.  My job is to adapt.  Life involves change.  It involves pain.  It is endlessly rewarding.  The pain may be limiting, but it does not necessarily lead to suffering.  After all, I can still look at car crashes in Russia on You Tube and make up lies for you to read.

Posted in Aging, Change, Current Activities, Falls, Health Issues, Knee and Hip Injuries, Motorcycle Crashes, My Story, Pain, Stories

Stuck

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Stuck

Stuck is my current problem.  I have not been able to write a word for a couple of weeks.  That problem seems to be receding.  Writer’s block and my general lethargy stems from a deeper problem.

First, some of what I know of the Buddha’s thinking.  One of his core concepts is about what today we call the ego.  In our regular thinking we treat our egos as permanent things stemming from what we are as beings.  Not so, folks.  We have made it all up.  We draw from our genetic makeup and our interpretation of our experiences in living to form a sense of self.  This is necessary for our survival, both as individuals and a species.

In the tribe, boys learned how to hunt from the tribal hunters.  Girls learned how to have and raise children from other mothers.  Everyone’s experiences are somewhat unique, but have a lot of commonality with others around us.  If things go well, children grow up to be healthy, capable members of their group.

Often, however, things go wrong.  Trauma, disfigurement, disease, and deprivation can lead a person to develop a wounded ego.  This is true of all of us to some degree.  The wounded ego suffers.  Suffering prevents us from reaching our deepest innermost being, the condition often called emptiness.  It is pure being, free of suffering stemming from the decisions we have made about ourselves.  It is often called enlightenment.  A better word is peace.

Insight Meditation can lead to the state where we have let go of all the encumbrances of ego.  It doesn’t mean ceasing to act much like the suffering person we were once were.  It doesn’t eliminate the need to cope with the tasks of living in the world, (especially a world containing Republicans.)  it’s clarity, freedom free of suffering but not of pain, grief, infirmity, and death.

Letting Go

I have tried to reach this goal for a large part of my life.  I tried many paths, Christianity, Buddhism, raging atheism, and trying to ignore the whole mess.  An amalgam of the teachings and lives of Jesus and the Buddha is what I have settled on.  It works for me, and much of my suffering is gone, let go.

But not all.  As a young child I experienced some abuse that seems to have gone to the very core of my being.  I have had profound, life changing spiritual experiences.  I have had over thirty years of therapy, I take medication for depression and ADD/HD.  ( not to mention prostate medication). My spiritual work has done the most good, but the other stuff is important.  I couldn’t meditate or write before I got effective ADD treatment at age 59.

Still, the deep reservoir of unease and discomfort remains.  Now, I am not the greatest practitioner of Insight Meditation or prayer, although I practice them every day, sometimes for much of the day.  I still go to therapy, go to meetings a couple of days every week, see my shrink, actively meditate and study the dharma.  They help tremendously.  Drugs, alcohol, and the motorcycle did not work.

That pool of existential isolation remains.  My teachers tell me to continue the process and I will, but I have times when I despair.  Is it karma, I am destined to suffer throughout this lifetime?  Or as my teachers say, I just need to persevere.  Well, I will persevere, continue the struggle.

I usually can chug along just fine, but a few weeks ago, one of my teachers said the continued practice of letting go will do it.  It hasn’t, not that deep pool of anguish.  His saying that just triggered more agony. This stuff sure is taking a long time, and I am not sure it will ever work.  Do you have any ideas?  Maybe I need to go to the mountains.

Posted in Addiction, Depression, Family History, Insight Meditation, Letting Go, Stories

Ego

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Seeker

As I have mentioned before, I am a seeker.  I have always wondered about the hard stuff.  Is there really a god?  Does that teacher really know what he is talking about?  How many subatomic particles are there?  Why is the human brain so complex?  Why is the universe expanding in defiance of gravity?  Why do Republicans exist?  What is the difference between eukaryotic and prokaryotes and how can prokaryotes have flagella?

Vegetarian animals have their eyes more to the side of their heads in order to see predators, who have their eyes in front to see prey.  Therefore, should humans always be carnivorous?  What about biblical prophesy?  Are these the last days?  Is existential despair the true human condition?  Is there enough time left to reverse global warming?

Do you see what I mean?  I have lots of questions and not many answers.  In my college days an art major and I were scrubbing wax off the baseboards in the student center during semester break.  I asked him about the meaning of life as artists always have a different vision about the nature of things.  His reply?  “ Everything is what it is.”  We’ll, yes, but not very satisfying.   Artists look and render what they see.  I look and wonder why?

The Meaning of Life

This defect of my character has led me to seek out those people and traditions who purport to know the answers.  I was raised a nominal Methodist.  I found only felt figures on a felt board.  I did like the doxology, but hated the jello salads in the basement.

I had a profound period of existential despair after my mother’s death my junior year of high school.  Camus, the Blues, and Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony.   Being afraid of girls was no help at all.

The winter of my senior year I was the wrestling team manager.  I wasn’t much of an athlete (another reason for existential despair) so the wrestling team was great fun.  I was able to help and even make a difference.  The scourge of wrestlers is boils.  Sliding on those mats means abrasion, and bacteria find their way into the skin.  Evil, those boils.  As  team manager,  I insured there were no  boils because I kept the mats disinfected.  No pus and blood on my watch.

There it is, the answer to despair.  Stay engaged.  I prevented boils, Camus enjoyed success with the ladies.  There is almost always a way.  Still, I sought.  On a wrestling trip to Salt Lake I bumped up against the Mormons.  I read, studied, listened, even dated a Mormon girl.  One night during an attack of angst I realized I didn’t believe in that stuff.

I then embarked on a career as an agnostic, annoying all the believers I knew by challenging their beliefs.  I continued my search with little success for quite a few years.  I think I substituted addictions for having any meaning.  If you are getting off, the need to keep it up takes over, even while knowing addiction is fruitless.  I had read Kerouac.

Saved

Then, during a dark night of the soul after a divorce, I was living in a basement apartment in Lasalle Colorado with my black dog.  I was working in the Greeley sewage disposal plant and the Maintenance Foreman was a deacon in an Assemblies Of God Church.  I went to his bible study, prayed, and got saved.  I asked Jesus in and felt this overwhelming feeling of being wrapped in love.  I got involved, had many experiences of the Holy Spirit, the addictions went away for a year, and I thought I had found the Meaning.

But, life interfered, as well as knowing all that Fundamentalist stuff made no sense.  I couldn’t stay with the holy rollers and ended up an Episcopalian.  For me, my higher power manifests as Jesus.  I couldn’t, however stay with the organized church.  Churches are instruments of power and control, contrary to what Jesus taught.  I did learn how to pray, and prayer is what grounds me.  No answers to the Big Question, however.

In fact, I think I have given up on finding the Meaning.  It’s a mystery.  These days I practice Insight Meditation with all its Buddhist trappings.  The good thing about Buddhism is that it does not purport to answer those questions.  I fact, the Buddha mostly ignored all that stuff, saying the sole goal is to end suffering.  With our big brains, we look for reasons.  We think up explanations or buy into someone else’s explanation and create a world.  Almost always the core of that world is desire.  We want stuff, pleasure, a sense of belonging.

No way, dude.  It is all illusion.  Let it go and find emptiness.  That emptiness harbors the true meaning, a sense of being one with the Universe.  Well, I think so, anyway.  I haven’t even come close.  Maybe I need a Bodhi tree to meditate under.

My meditating has borne fruit.  I am finding equanimity.  I am less frustrated.  I am less angry.  I don’t feel as much despair.  I have periods of true happiness.  My addictions are losing their grip, especially if I do my part in my daily practice.  Can’t tell you about the meaning of the cosmos, but my cosmos is more peaceful.

 

 

 

Posted in Buddhism, Existential Despair, Insight Meditation, Jesus, Meaning, Meditation, My Story, Stories
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