Two day's ago, I played a Jimmy Buffett song with the lyric, if we couldn't laugh we'd die. To quote one of my earliest mentor's, a cat named Snagglepuss, "Ain't it the truth, ain't it the truth". The forth of July is clearly my least favorite of all holiday's. Yesterday, for me, was one of the worst, which in a Nietzsche world, means a generator of strength and resiliency.
RUN, don't walk, WALK, don't run. Don't just sit there, do something, don't just do something, sit there. Which are/is right? It clearly depends upon the relative situation. When seeing a lion, you slowly walk away, when hearing the sounds of gunfire in the distance, you run away. When observing yourself or nature, you do nothing, quietly meditating, reflecting, and consciously observing. Inaction is, at times, an enabler or contributor to far greater evils.
I continue to learn how to deal with a long developing complex PTSD. This one in twelve, estimated occurrences of PTSD in America, has a multitude of additional symptoms of both physical and neuro-chemical changes. I have very little written about this condition, and have mostly attended the school of hard knocks in my recovery, management and self care.
Hide, run fight, or run, hide, fight, are the codes for dealing with mass shooting's and I am instructed by my two primary's and officer Dylan from the local lockdown facilities, that whenever I become aware that something is triggering my CPTSD, I am always to Run away, seeking a better outcome, and a better tomorrow.
I am in transitional housing, that has me trying to hide always until I am able to move on. It is not easy, mind you, but when feel unsafe, I run away. I have done this four times or more in the past two weeks. Yesterday was a RUN AWAY day for me and my service animal Sky. It turned out more than OK. I ended up at the tiny local park from my 3 decades on SE 19th, very quiet, as everyone was event seeking or having house party's. Later, taking a different bus than usual, I came upon a fountain that had been lost to me in surrounding new building. It was the Lovejoy fountains, that had received national attention in the late 60's as Portland's Golden Gate Park. I have many a fond memory of being one the the fountain's most frequent wader's. This time, it was a haven for the homeless. Being off the beaten path, people were wading and water only, cleaning up from their homeless realities. The were immediately in my presence telling me that their community was drug free other than MJ, and then I was welcome. It was a "group W" Alice's Restaurant sort of flash back. While we self name ourselves with Keep Portland Weird slogan's, buttons and bumpersticker's this was a highly unusual consortium of people and a few friendly four-footer's. After a relatively second quiet time in a well shaded park and a dip myself into the fountain, Sky and I had an easy return home with all additional 9 guest's departed and a safe entry to hid in my room and small, but good outdoor chair and ashtray's.
Today on my live podcast, I salute the troubadour's of the 60's.
Usually for me, a Nietzsche moment of gain, does not typically occur with a few hours of easy jogging away with nice breaks, and pleasant company. Thoreau once quipped that he knew a man, who lived in a tree (nature), that would have been much better company, than the attendee's of an exclusive Concord party that very same night; "Oh such beautiful curtains, such wonderful china and silver, what a charming quartet", "how are the Blazer's doing, how's work, have you ready any good book's lately (ha, ha), SOSO. So today, I change from a thousand's year old funny proverb to a talk and some live music from the 60's troubadour's: Harry Chapin, and Jim Crochet.
Opmerkingen