Awakenings? What am I hoping to achieve here? Do I actually believe that, anyone other than me, will be interested in what I think, what I feel, what I write and what I choose to share? My hope is “perhaps”. “Perhaps” someone else will be able to relate to what I am writing? “Perhaps” someone else, who is as disillusioned with their life as I am, as disillusioned with the world as me, as disillusioned with the human race as me, will gain something by understanding that they are not the only one who feels this way.
I have generally felt so “disconnected” from the human race, I have wondered for my sanity. I look at almost all of the people I meet and with whom I interact and I wonder “What do they know that I don’t?” And, I have felt this way since I was a child. As I look back upon my life, I feel as if I have been play acting – pretending to be something/someone that I am not just so that they think I am part of this game. And, to tell the truth, I do not want to be. Stop the world, I want to get off!
Surely, this is not how we are meant to live our lives? Sometimes I am so overwhelmingly grateful for the fact that I have a life, that I have had a life, for the amazingly good things that have happened to me, that I just want to lie there and bask in the glory of it whilst, at other times, I am so depressed about my lack of ability to enjoy it, to live it, to love it that I just want to end it all!
There has to be a better way and, whilst I have spent a lifetime looking for it, I simply cannot find it! I have tried sex, drugs, rock and roll, meditation, things [as in possessions]. I have found no way to consistently love myself, love my life, love my journey. And, when I look at or read about others who appear to, I am so envious!
I keep asking myself “Why?”
“Why me?”
“Why am I so useless?”
“What have I done to deserve this?”
“What haven’t I done to deserve this?”
“What can I change so that I get a different outcome?”
“How do I disassociate from my love of things so that I can live without them?”
The questions seem endless yet the answers are elusive! No answers for me, so far at least…..
Anyway, back to the question of “Where do I begin?”
“Where do I begin to tell you the story of my life?” And “Why?” “Why would anyone give a stuff about the story of my life?” Unless of course I was able to raise myself up from humble beginnings to a superstar ending! Books like that sell well. My story is not so grand, I’m afraid. It’s more about an ongoing series of failures. In fact, my life is more a story about how I have stuffed up pretty much everything that I have touched – more about how I took the blessings with which I was born and pissed them up against the wall! In my view, my existence appears to have almost totally a “waste of space” other than for the fact that I threw my genes into the mix – I have 3 beautiful children and 5 beautiful grandchildren. Perhaps, from that, something might come!
As I write this, I do not even know what that may mean. As if anything matters? Does anything matter? Does my existence matter other than to my 8 descendants? Of course, my existence matters to them because, without me, their DNA would have been different. But, even for them, this only matters if they love themselves and if their existence matters?
There have been so many millions of books, movies, songs, dissertations, wars, religions started and deaths as a result of our seemingly endless search for meaning, I wonder if there is even a place here for my feeble ramblings?
However, as I mentioned earlier, I am writing this blog largely for myself, allowing me to capture, from time to time, my thoughts and feelings, perhaps in the hope that, at some point, they may make sense to me – and, possibly to others.
I read prolifically and, at times, the writings of others make so much sense, it all seems perfectly natural and then “Wham!”, I am back in my depression wondering what happened to my recent “enlightenment”.
A friend of mine, Amir Zoghi, a speaker on the global enlightenment circuit, once said “Nothing has any meaning, other that that which we attach to it – man is a “meaning-making machine.” This struck a chord with me and seemed, at the time, to be one of the answers to my endless series of questions. Was it? Not sure? But, if it is correct, then our “search for meaning” in and of itself, is bound to be fruitless other than, perhaps, for how those elusive answers make us feel temporarily.
Did I mention that I write poetry? Let me explain my poetry story. When I was young, at school, I enjoyed reading poetry. In fact, I loved English – I loved the way writers could make me feel by the way that they described events, feelings and pictures. Poetry connected me to something – not sure what but I did enjoy reading it.
When I was about 40, I attempted suicide [for the third time] and a friend of mine paid for me to attend a drug and alcohol rehab centre – South Pacific Private Hospital affectionately known by attendees as “South Park” [one of the reasons I was depressed was because I was broke]. I was there for 6 weeks. Sometime during the last couple of weeks I wrote the following poem, the first that I had ever written:
“South Park”
Each day I prayed to God for peace, some help to ease my pain.
He heard me not, or so I thought, my prayers had been in vain.
I wish I’d listened harder then, for what he had to say
“My son, I love you, yes I do: Here’s some light to guide you on your way.”
It’s off to South Pacific, John – the answers are all there.
“Look deep inside yourself,” He said, “in answer to your prayer.”
I arrived at South Pacific only five short weeks ago,
My life so full of dread and fear, of things I did not know.
To find the truth, begin the search, to pacify my fears
To find the lonely “Inner Child”, I had not seen in years.
With lots of trepidation I settled in my bed,
To begin the fearful journey, which was only in my head.
To lectures Monday morning I went, with only thoughts of gain
I learned of co-dependence – the source of all my pain.
“Perhaps there’s more to it than this?” I really had to know.
My life was such a misery, although it didn’t show.
My job, my wife, my family: and all the toys I needed.
My life was really empty, I felt I had been cheated.
Inside I felt an emptiness that chilled me to the bone,
A deep, deep well of loneliness – I’d lived my life alone.
So off to group I trudged, with the crew from green
To investigate those issues which had lain so long unseen.
“As you tell your story, let your feelings flow.
Breath into them,” Brad said, “just let those feelings go.”
“Tell where in your body that your anger lies
And I’ll bring it to the surface before your very eyes.”
Memories from my past, so long forbidden
Stirring deep in my soul, the pain long hidden.
To find the answers that God had sent
If only I had known what he had meant.
“Survivors” was a special week – 0 to 17 explored,
Those childhood feelings that had lain so long ignored.
Helen opened up my heart to those fears long unseen
So I could see how injured my little child had been.
My anger, my guilt, my pain, my shame
Are there to teach me, that is their aim.
Total love and joy is the natural state
To feel it, I need to remove my fear and hate.
The road less traveled is the one for me
The path to explore my spirituality.
With the 12 steps of AA to guide my way
To hear my higher power, every time I pray.
What did I learn during my five-week stay?
That I’m nearer to God each and every day.
That, to love myself, I need to love my brother.
That the purpose of our lives is to love one another.
That my feelings are the guideposts along the way
To total love and joy and the peace for which I pray.
That I am part of God and he is part of me
And if I listen to my feelings, He will set me free.
So, there it is – my first poem. Written in 2000. I did not write again until about 2013 – I was a attending a retreat in the Hunter Valley [NSW Australia] with Amir Zoghi – it was meditation, ponderings, sharing etc. At the retreat I wrote my second poem, below:
“The Retreat”
I came with a touch of trepidation
To explore my heart and soul
To understand my essence
To make me complete and whole.
I need to know my purpose
The reason that I am.
To dig below the surface
and to be a better man
To see the One in each of us
To understand their pain
To thank them for the lessons
That allow my soul to gain
The lesson on the path of life
Is that there is only one
I am he, he is she and she is me
We really are all ONE
The sense of separation
Is a false belief, for sure
The question is, if this true
Then where to look for more?
Outside myself? Inside of you?
The answer isn’t clear
It’s hidden in the strangest place
Where you’d never think to peer
The answer isn’t here or there
Or hidden in a prayer
The answer to your every wish
Is right inside of you
The question then
Is how to find
This hidden gem of peace?
The answer may surprise you ’cause
It’s really simple so…
Just breathe in here
And breathe in now
And learn the how
of releasing from the torment
The answer is so simple – true
Stay in the present moment!
How can that be?
You may well ask
The answer is so clear…
The Universe itself is hidden
deep inside of you, my dear!
JH – 26 August 2013
After the retreat poems started to flow – I wrote almost every day. When I was writing, it was almost like I was “channeling” – I wasn’t writing them myself, there was almost no effort required, no need for corrections or seeking to improve what was said – it was almost surreal. And, after I had written a poem, I did not even remember what had been written. When I read them later, it was almost like they were written by someone else.
So, there it is – my first blog post. The plan is to return regularly and update it – I hope to add poems, thoughts, meanderings on life and the meaning thereof.
Awakenings 