Month: December 2022

What a night. 9.15 the first night of two was very dynamic. As I arrived I felt a bit of nervousness to be introducing myself to 22 people. The energy in the house was a bit frenetic, but I jumped in to help and my anxiety eased a bit. There are a number of incredibly beautiful and powerful people in this group. Hell, the whole group is fantastic.

After drinking the first cup I fell into a state tat had the potential to be like my first ceremony; reveling in sadness that the connection was missing. Instead, I breathed into the experience and it seemed to work to soften me up, showing me a beautiful example of me working in the community, going to school, and spreading a radiance of connection and love. I ended that cup with the knowledge of what could be and asked Aya to show me what it would take to reach that beautiful vision.

Time for the second cup came around and I was determined to follow through. I struggled for a while to hold down the second cup, the cacophony of purging around me made that challenging. As for exactly what came of the second cup it’s hard to say. Aya gave me a shockingly straightforward to-do list that would move me toward my goal of presence –

1. Get a j0b with a specific local large non-profit organization
2. Devote yourself to the work
3. Use health insurance to get oral surgery
4. Allow the passion to help people transform the role into something beautiful, that, in turn, feeds back into a joyous lifestyle.
5. Continue pursuing an education.

These pointers seemed to be a prescription of sorts to manifest meaning and create substance in my life via hard work.

After that, I fell into a dissection of my behaviors. There was a clear telegraphing of my judgemental nature, something that I thought wasn’t really an issue for me. My judgments are always beautifully designed ways for me to shift my focus away from myself and avoid my own work. This behavior was modeled for me ad nauseam. I was shown how I use projection and speculative narrative crafting to distract myself emotionally from the personal work that needs to be done.

I had several moments where it was clear to me that God/Love was present and would always be lighting the path forward. I felt deep gratitude and the need to prostrate myself before God/Love to acknowledge how various actions in the past were disgraceful, a penance of sorts. I found strength in the gratitude to be alive, to have been given the challenges I have, and to still be walking the earth and waking anew each morning. I also found myself with the desire to reach out and give love to a variety of people in my life. I experienced a number of visions related to how I let my ex down throughout our relationship and I was left just wanting to reconnect, hug her, and say, “I’m Sorry.”

Night Two [9.17.2022] –

I’m writing this after getting some rest. I still feel the effects of the medicine a bit. Where to start… I found the second night to be challenging, and beautiful. I went into the first round with the intention to allow Aya to drive the bus; to surrender to whatever the medicine needed to show me and I needed to learn.

At first, it was like a prolonged series of vignettes that were beautiful but lacked substance. At a point I became frustrated and pushed back against Aya saying, “You know, you don’t have to be gentle,” and it was as if she metaphorically raised her eyebrow in response, smirking slightly. We plunged into an extremely intense and uncomfortable processing of my faults and shortcomings. Namely, a lot of how I showed up in the relationship with my ex came to the surface. One thing, in particular, was my habit to make everything about myself. For example, if she was upset or having a hard time I would typically assume that I had done something wrong, which over time became an annoyance of hers…understandably so. I’ve done this in many other areas of my life. I realized while sitting with the behavior that it was a subtle and self-reinforcing vortex of sorts. It’s clear to me that this is connected to my past with the victim mentality. This habit is a sneaky one, in that, when confronted with that specific stimuli, I would shrink up and create a narrative based on a loose intuition that I was at fault. This would lead me to push and try to “fix” the situation that I had falsely accredited myself as having caused. This habit was a zero-sum bind, with outcomes that would lead to me feeling hurt and confused… and thus, the pattern of absorption would repeat. Seeing the reality of this behavioral issue, the impacts of it, and the nuance of the mechanism allowed me to accept it and look deeper into it in order to trace back the influences in my childhood that developed that coping mechanism. I was able to gently hold that part of myself and nurture the scared, desperate, sweet child within me.

I saw visions of my ex flourishing in a variety of ways; beginning to live again in her brilliant complicated way. This was beautiful. I also had to reckon with some shadow elements of how my influence in our relationship led to a breakdown of her spirit and purpose. The times when I was knowingly being an energy vacuum and holding her back from joy. These expressions were very vivid and powerful.

During the second round before we were called to drink, I was a little scared to take the second dose. I mustered up the courage to do it for the sake of healing. I took this dose with less of a clear intention and an openness to what needed to come up. The second dose came on strong and the urge to purge was present. There was a cascading effect of people purging that was punctuated by three people directly adjacent to me vomiting. The struggle was real but the nausea subsided and I was cast into an even deeper version of the “You don’t have to be gentle,” sentiment from the first dose. This section was so intense that I am still trying to piece together exactly what I experienced. There are a couple of core moments that I can share now that are clear.

The onset was a kind of mental kaleidoscope of anguish, negative behaviors, and self-judgments all flooding in at a pace I couldn’t comprehend fully. I would have a moment of salience when the obsession with myself would be really prevalent, I’d be given a window to accept that, and upon not accepting it I’d be flung into the kaleidoscope of anguish again. At a certain point, I was sitting with my self-absorption and noticed my body language. During the torrent, I’d be holding my fists closed over my chest, or I’d be in the fetal position, body contracted into itself. It clicked for me that not only are there countless behaviors linked to my self-absorption, but I have also (over time), developed physical body language that denies my being a sense of openness and receptivity to the world around me. The habit was so ingrained that I would have to pry my contorted arms to my side and forcefully open my hands to take on a receptive posture. As I become more aware of my shadows it has been a recent mission of mine to get more in touch with my body. This practice of assuming a posture of physical receptiveness will undoubtedly play a big part.

Toward the end of the onslaught, I remember looking up at the pine ceiling and saying, ” I just can’t do it anymore” to God/Love/Universe, and surrendering into the experience. This was incredibly beautiful and I felt held and nourished in my exhaustion. The scene changed to a moonlit beach, grayscale, third-person view of me laying in the tide among the wreckage of a ship. I was broken, exhausted, and on the verge of death… at that moment I smiled, and felt the deepest feeling of gratitude and contentment for the beautiful experience.

I’m not sure how many times I’ve started entries in my journals with a sentiment similar to – “Well, life is wild,” but this entry will capture that sentiment to the letter. On the 14th of July 2022, my partner of three years and I decided to stop dating. The conversation happened on a scenic overlook in the early hours of the morning and lasted about four hours. The depth of understanding and the general amicable nature of the conversation were both mature, deeply loving, and heartbreaking. She and I had reached a point in our relationship where we could either continue on in unhappiness with the hope that something would shift or go our separate ways and get back in touch with who we really are, respectively. With the decision finalized, I will be moving out in the next month to live with an old friend. As of the 18th I also tendered my resignation from the non-profit I’ve been working at for the last year. Life as I have known it is in the process of completely changing. Changing for what I feel will be the better. Things are in flux.

The deciding point for all of this transition was my bout with Suicidal Ideation three weeks ago. I had resolved to sell all of my possessions, buy a gun, move to Crestone, Colorado, and either find God again or embrace a bullet. I was very close to pursuing this route.

I fessed up and spent time vulnerably expressing my strife to my friend who is a licensed therapist. In turn, I received suggestions and feedback that altered my course of thinking. This friend uttered something incredibly prescient that influenced me deeply. It was something to the effect of “Oftentimes when people are contemplating suicide, it isn’t that they don’t want to live…it’s that their body, mind, and spirit can’t stand to go on living in the current situation.” This sunk in and I immediately knew my current situation had become untenable. Hence, the decision to separate from my partner so as to get some space and clarity and to begin living with fidelity, love, and joy again.

I should be clear, my ex wasn’t to blame… we both have our own issues and represent unique pieces of the puzzle. I don’t love myself, I’ve lost sight of the grace and beauty of life… and for me to show up authentically in relationships, platonic and intimate, I have no choice but to defragment, reassess, and get quiet.

My reflections on my experience in Utah are complicated. On one hand, I feel blessed to have been invited and to have experienced the beautiful environment the participants have created over the last 30 years. There are a couple of internal rubs that could have led to a potentially more impactful experience…not the most productive thinking, I know.

Firstly, I found myself immersed in a community of loving supportive people, but was unable to fully open to the beauty of the experience. Although I was forthcoming with details about myself – and showed vulnerability in that regard, I noticed that far too often I would retreat into a place of quietude and reservation, leading to ostensibly less connection and intimacy with other participants.

I also recognized a troubling competitiveness with my travel companion over the course of the week, a recurring vain attempt to curry favor with the influential figures a the camp, and the feeling of dismay when it was clear that he was accruing more social currency and favor. I suppose you could argue that the awareness of this internal ego grappling is a positive thing, but I am still left with a bad taste in my mouth.

So, even though I have been desperately craving the quality of deep connection available to me at the camp I still found it difficult to engage and exist in the environment comfortably. Perhaps continued exposure is my route to contentment, I’m not sure. I found the ceremonies to be incredibly uplifting and genuine. The sweat lodges and the vision quest yielded fruit, surely. Emotional release and nervous system soothing were very present. I wonder if this is another example of my over-dependence on external stimuli to act as catalysts to change my personal paradigm. There is a knot in my mind preventing a full embodiment/collaboration between Mind & Body. I keep looking towards seminal events like this to readjust my perspective and somehow make me better. I then get discouraged when the maladaptive behaviors/perspectives haven’t completely changed. I desperately want to be reborn in this life… but I fear there is a mess of karma to sort through before that know can begin to loosen.

Looks like the long road is the only viable option to reach the inner destination I wish to return to…

It occurs to me that with the upcoming VQ experience I ought to state my intentions in writing for future reflection and integration.

I am approaching this experience as a rite of passage. Not having experienced a definitive or formal trial to indicate a ritualistic transition into adulthood earlier in life this seems like an excellent opportunity to embrace that…

I would like to get insights into who I truly am underneath all of the layers of conditioning and the fairly recent wellspring of insecurity and fear…

I want to move past the fear and live authentically so that I might radiate light and compassionate balanced confidence more effectively…

I have been struggling to show up in close/not-so-close relationships with the degree of presence and authenticity I’d like to.

There are plenty of past occurrences I could depend on to justify a life sentence in the prison of my mind’s making…

It’s time to leave the past in the past and step into the future; shackle-less ready to claim my power and use it to lift those around me up.

My intention is: To be shown my inherent strength and worth so I can move into the future in my power. Spreading light in the wake of my momentum.

The one is about that grumpy roommate, you know the guy, and the internal debate I find myself engaged I. I’ve been steaming without a release valve for some time now. The roommate’s behavior has impacted both my partner and me. A holdover from the Trauma he experienced living with an abusive Father…the abused becomes the abuser with no awareness that his projected anger is a perpetuation of the behavior he uses to justify his own victimhood. To the point here… my partner and I have grown sick of his lack of contributions in the house and his angry outbursts. So much so, that we’ve decided to talk to him and deliver an ultimatum – to either make strides to contribute and not take his rage out on the communal environment or to move out.

I find it comical that just as I’ve built up the gumption to have what will likely devolve into a hostile conversation he seems happier and is in a state of positive transition. I find myself second-guessing the necessity of having this conversation and can’t see whether or not my rationalizations are self-masturbatory – i.e “The avoidance is coming from a place of care and compassion” – and just an attempt to escape having a hard conversation. I think I would be happier not living with him, however, the underlying discomfort could just be my own shit and I wonder if I could make contributions that would change the dynamic. Both are probably true to some extent.

Post Script -[12.21.2022]

Having been out of that environment for nearly half a year it’s clear to me that a great deal if not all, of the mental suffering I experienced during that stint of cohabitation was directly a result of my own projections. Granted there were objective issues that would likely frustrate most people… however, I opted to allow the frustration, disgust, and anger to snowball into something that conveniently obscured my own projections. Which, as a result, led to the external stimuli becoming a grand distraction that kept me from seeing and taking accountability for my own shortcomings.

The more I contemplate my path and the prospect of pursuing the unlicensed route I realize that my best course of action is to probably get the undergrad degree in Psychology with maybe a Writing/English minor and then pursue a more specialized Master’s and potentially Doctoral Degree at a school like CIIS or Naropa. I can do self-study around spiritual traditions, consciousness, and therapy modalities. This path will be one of sacrifice, humility, and focus. Cosmology, Consciousness, and Spiritual growth are areas I could see myself really jiving into and pursuing academically with passion.

I’ve had the impulse to pursue this path since the age of 18 or 19. Exploring the links between perspective, belief, practice, and self-actualization/evolution would be a meaningful path to pursue. Searching for peace and joyous embodiment is what meaning means to me. If I can explore the multitude of disciplines and unearth a path inside of me – one unburdened by dogma and contrived allegiances to a given tribe – perhaps I could transcribe that path in such a way that illuminates the underlying route across all beliefs and traditions. This path is worth walking. Time to set off.

I find myself at an interesting crossroads of sorts. I’ve been contemplating what the next steps of my journey look like… I know that I want to provide some form of empathy-based “counseling” to other people. The vision of building a career out of helping people through conversation, empathy, and presence, to live better lives is one in which I find my soul satiated…

The Question then is:

As a 33-year-old without a bachelor’s degree do I proceed with the traditional Undergrad to Master’s degree track and start practicing conventionally at the age of 42… or do I form my own curriculum and focus on building knowledge, experience, specialized certifications, competencies, and an awareness of the pros/cons from industry leaders who have taken a similar path, and potentially begin practicing earlier?

There are potential pitfalls to each route. Unlicensed, you risk being shunned and not being taken seriously. The level of discipline and thoroughness I would require of myself to feel ok with providing an unlicensed service rooted in spirituality and therapy would be monumental. The ethical considerations alone are formidable. Do I possess the drive and devotion required to walk that path?

On the licensed side, I worry that the narrowness of conventional modalities and “wisdom” would crush the innovative spirit and seed I feel is gestating within me. The licensed route would be very expensive and would delay the study of specific specializations like Transpersonal Psychology and Spiritually oriented modalities unless I were to attend a school like CIIS or Naropa.

I also have to soberly look at whether or not my aversion to attending university is rooted in fear of failure and doubt about my capacity… and potentially whether or not laziness and fear of prolonged commitment play a role.

I’ve received encouragement from numerous people over time that I would make a great Therapist. I hope that in five to ten years I look back on this entry with fondness and compassion in a place that is, in retrospect, exactly where I was meant to arrive.