Chapter 28: Knowing Your Place

December 14th, 2018

I think the doctors may have found a good match with this new med. Either that or I am in one of my low pain cycles. I’ll know in a couple of days. For the very most part the pain is barely noticeable and the noise is a very quiet hum. I can almost think but not quite. Wisps of story ideas are slipping from behind the wall. If I put any effort toward it pressure starts building so I’m not there yet.

One of our Oak members sent me some music recommendations to help with the anxiety issues. So far, I haven’t got past the first song “Weightless” by the Marconi Union. It was specifically designed by the composers in conjunction with sound therapists to reduce anxiety. It works superbly. It’s on youtube. I’m also using it to see if I can learn to meditate again. One of the reasons my anxiety is through the roof is my illness took my ability to do deep meditation which I have done since I was in my middle teens.

When I was younger I had the feeling that a lot of young people people do of being an outsider. I also had the unfortunate experience of having it reinforced a whole lot. Now, being an outsider does have a perk or three. One is you learn to watch behaviour objectively and see how contradictory humans are. Two is as an outsider you can move along the fringes of several different groups without loyalty issues or the politicking.

It is bothersome though because it is lonely and you begin to feel as if you belong nowhere. That’s just bad for a human being. We are by nature a social creature. We will take up with the worst sort of crowd if we think they are the only ones who will takes us in. I know. I’ve sat at millionaires tables and I’ve sat on a ragged couch in a dank garage where a druggie lived and a lot of time druggies and other low lifes are more compassionate. They know what it’s like to get kicked in the face by life forty or fifty times. I honestly didn’t know if I had a place in the world until I was in my early 20’s.

It was during my first vision quest. I was doing it in some swampy woods in the fall near a river. I was nude with just a blanket, my k-bar knife and a gallon of water. I was in the middle of a large bush so humans wouldn’t find me. It was a time of fasting and prayer. A time of closing in on oneself and shutting down the chattering monkey mind while becoming ever more aware of the world around you. If you were lucky you would slip into the land of the spirit and they would speak to you.

As I observed the world around me I noticed that certain birds marked their territory by flying to certain trees every morning and evening and singing. The bugs in the soil stayed at a certain depth unless hunting. They then quickly returned to that level once they made their kill. A realization came over me. Everything in the universe belongs here. Each and every thing has a place including me. Have you ever had a cascade of thoughts just fall through your mind? Thought after thought, implication after implication like a waterfall suffused me. I accepted that when It comes right down to it I am not an isolated little human in a ginormous universe that is alien to me. I am a part of that universe. Specifically, I am part of the Earth. It’s hard to explain much clearer but basically I have a place too and whoever don’t like it, well Up yours, buddy.

So where was all that when you were in straight up crisis mode with your illness Darian? That’s a fair question and here’s my answer: If you recall I still don’t sweat so any version of living off the land scenario in warm weather is a no go. I’m also on medications which I have to have which to my knowledge there is no plant substitute. So I’m stuck being close to people whether I wish to be or not. Also, when I shared my plan for if / when I suicide what location did I choose? The woods near a river. So there you go.

Yes, in a lot of ways I felt socially Isolated and afraid. It led me to start the Oak and I’m glad for it. We have been able to help each other and I plan to keep it going whether I get better or worse because we need each other. I can’t tell you how many times a simple email just made me smile when my entire week had been absolutely screwed. I’ve had people who are not facing illness tell me how The Oak is helping them build better lives for themselves. So we’ll keep gathering together my friends.

Cheers,