
Yesterday, I had the most marvelous experience of getting together with Pharoah Envision, who was brave enough to show his deep, painfully-lived experience in Scenario 2, Hazing, Bullying and Discrimination. We hung out way too long and talked about way too many things. But it was so much fun, nobody wanted to leave. So we waited until the LPM, the Last Possible Moment. Such is the pleasure of good company.
Pharoah and I talked a lot about things that had happened around the situation he was in. We agreed on two things: that taking that final step was based on not having an out; and even if someone were stopped, they would still be returning to the same miserable conditions, with again, no way out. We laughed wickedly about Leavenworth. Because that’s what we do; that’s how, as Pharoah said, “we bring light.” But to and for ourselves, because sometimes contemplating the reality is too much to bear in its raw state. Our humor and edges are what keep us steady.
The Reverie
On the long drive home, in between high beams, theirs and mine; rain slicked roads, and mercurial white lines, I relived the previous five hours. I was interested in the cast, how they coped with the rehearsing, the reenacting, the portraying of behaviors that led to a bad outcome for someone.
And I say “bad outcome” because we talked about this, how nobody seems to notice when what some people – individuals, groups – are doing is hurting someone. I think the important part of this sentence is right up front: Nobody seems …
And here is where it exposes a myriad of ways that could happen and still be described by outsiders as “well, nobody [else] seems to [fill in the blank]. Seems to “see it that way.” Seems to “think that.” Seems to “feel that.” Then there is the silent treatment: It’s orders, I have no choice. I was/am just doing my job. Taken together as ways of speaking, the goal is to disappear the problem until either it goes away, the preferred result; or, it becomes huge and unmanageable. The pattern is common in movies, popular series, books, written word. So until someone says it. Until someone holds up a mirror and says, Hey, I see you doin’ that, nothing changes. And the key phrase here is “until someone … says.”
Until someone says…
A Flash of Love so Bright
It’s a long drive between the Pizza 9, with its strong support for the military and military causes and my home in tiny little San Miguel. It’s time to ponder in the silence, beneath the stars and among the mountains, beside the White Sands. And as sometimes happens I think for all of us, there happened a “flash of brilliance.” And I SAW it. I also saw what it meant.
What I saw was that moment when you realize someone loves you. I mean, really loves you. It’s a jolt, that moment when your body knows and your mind is irrelevant. It’s a moment of stundom, when the world as you knew it is not the same as the world now.
And it’s not “being loved” because when you say “being loved” you don’t see who is doing the loving. You really don’t even know when it’s happening. Someone could say, “it’s about being loved” and it could refer to having been loved before, now, or in the future. It doesn’t really mean a whole lot.
But no, it’s that moment when you realize in the now, in the moment, that someone close to you loves you. Loves You and is doing it right now. And your whole perspective changes. It’s moving from dark to light in that instant moment of understanding. Moving from a place of shadow and insecurity to one where you know one, solid thing: That wonderful person loves me and I care. And the myriad details and possibilities of that are worth exploring.
My dear friend Raul Dorn has graciously allowed me to build a song around two lines, slightly emended, from his new release, Tears. The original lines were
There was a flash of light so bright
I could not respond.
I changed it to
There was a flash of love so bright
I could not respond.
Because I know what that is. I know what that feels like. And when I write the song, the central question will be: Will or could or would or should this stop me? Would knowing deeply and truly that I am loved provide the one way out of the cage without doors?
I don’t have a song this serious, so I am going to use my silly Christmas song that I wrote just because everybody was writing Christmas songs and I didn’t have one. I am probably the least qualified of anybody to write a Christmas song —but — I did it anyway.
I wanted a song that didn’t hijack or smuggle in any of the old tropes. And being unqualified to write a Christmas song, this little treat is what emerged from my imagination. I want to say some of the images are a little cheesy [big smirk] but it just wouldn’t do to have Rembrandt with this little tune. Would it. I wish you silly fun.
#4Suicides
#ThePTSDLab


