Day 12 of posting proposed chapters for book #8. I will be posting 22 chapters, total, and then selecting the top 15 for the book.
Remember that Minotaur, and Theseus needing a clew (clue) to find his way out of the labyrinth, once he finally defeated the monster? It is not enough to find our internal demons, and then slay them, if, in the process, we get lost to those we once knew and loved, or get lost in our own minds. Sometimes, there is a need to retrace some steps, to find those that our wayward intentions, desires, and actions may have negatively impacted on the pathway to our own release from hell. We must become willing to attempt to make things right for those who may have suffered with us as a result of mismanagement of our demons and trauma.
By June of 1987, I had delivered the fatal blow to my own personal Minotaur, though I still had not exited the trap of my mind. I stayed obsessively involved with AA and NA, attending 270 meetings in 90 days, and I continued my prayers and meditations. While I still had the memory of a loving vision of May 24th, I was not healed and whole, as my body was still wracked with pain. I was constantly shaking, and I still had that annoying chatter in my mind, something like a play by play announcer documenting my every move. I still occasionally felt those “divine horripilations” that reminded me that I had touched something extraordinary in nature.
I started reading several great spiritual works by M.Scott Peck, such as The Road Less Traveled, and People of the Lie: Hope For Healing Human Evil. Mr. Peck spoke to most of my issues, and problems that I had with Toxic Religion, and I felt like I had found a friend and another teacher of truth. I stopped reading and listening to Christian propaganda altogether, having finally recognized it as a distraction.
I still had some free time to explore around, and I would take overnight trips into the wilderness, to get closer to Nature, and to God. The feeling of love that I carried with me from the May 24th experience had started to fade by the middle of June, but I still felt blessed, and I was hopeful that continued recovery from my devastating mental illness and neurological damage might continue.
It was June 22, 1987, and I was hiking up to Larch Mountain, a beautiful peak that overlooks the Columbia River valley, and from its vantage point all of the major mountain peaks of the area can be readily observed. In the ancient times, I was to learn several years later from a local tribal member, this area was considered sacred ground by the indigenous peoples, who came to this area from miles around to honor their Great Spirit, and to hold their sacred ceremonies and prayer rituals. The local Indian leader claimed that the rocks were imbued with the energy of the Spirit, only awaiting a receptive person to arrive, and be in recognition of its miraculous presence.
I arrived at the top, and allowed myself to become as quiet as my mind would allow for. I slowly did a 360 degree rotation, observing for the many miles around me, in all directions, the incredible beauty of the area, the mountain peaks of Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, and the great winding river called the Columbia River. It felt as if I were on the top of a great observatory, and, today, I was the only person with this special view, and I was quite grateful just to be alive, and to have this privilege.
I bypassed a guard rail, and I then climbed around the rocky peak so as to be hidden from the view from anyone who should arrive after me. With the additional privacy that I had created for myself, I then felt comfortable enough to begin to pray and meditate for just a little while. I was pretty poor at this activity, as my mind refused to quiet itself. But, at least I made myself available to Spirit, in the way that felt appropriate to me.
My nervous system was still quite compromised from all of the poisoning caused by the methamphetamine that I had ingested and injected over the past 18 months, in addition to my continued abuse of alcohol during that same period. At this point, on June 22nd, I had been clean and sober for 3 months, but a total healing or recovery seemed out of the question. I had been a drug addict and alcoholic, more or less, since I was 15 years old, but the last 18 months had really taken a toll.
My health was improving a little, but I still was having physical tremors, almost identical to Parkinson’s disease, and I was also experiencing the psychological discomfort of “hearing voices”,an activity within my mind which consisted, at this point, of mentally generated internal thought based feedback about whatever I was observing, or doing at the time. I also could “hear” people’s thoughts about me, though at this point I was able to rationally overrule those voices, by stating to myself that unless I actually heard the words from the person’s mouth, they were not real, and I just ignored their suggestions.
The “voices” were nothing more than my own thoughts, yet, in my mind, they appeared to be coming from a center not quite of my self, but of something, or some nature, not quite me. I was literally “out of phase” with myself. It was like having a play by-play announcer operating in my mind, who mentally verbalized everything that was happening, as it happened, with no color commentary added to it. I had an uncomfortable relationship with this mental feedback, and I did not report this to medical professionals, fearing that I would be hospitalized, or placed on the same destructive medications that I had seen administered to my mentally ill ex-wife. I had resigned myself to a life of marginal mental health, at best.
A light, warm breeze carried the fragrance of the nearby pine trees to me, drawing me away from the problems of my body, and of my mind. I continued to be absorbed by the beauty of the area, and the majesty of the unobstructed views. The mountain peaks began to feel closer to me, for some as yet unknown reason. I felt as though I could reach out and touch each of them. The river far below me felt close, very close, and the whole panorama seemed to be drawing nearer to me, and I began experiencing everything differently. And, for the 2nd time in a month, I started feeling connected to a different vibration of experience.
A month ago I had experienced a vision, and, with its presence, all of my loneliness and depression had lifted. I attributed that temporary healing to the presence of the vision, and there had been a love that had flowed into me during its presence. The vision had disappeared, but it had left its memory of a beautiful, unconditional love, and with it, traces of hope, and the expectations that something was to follow, of some as yet unknown nature. Well, something was following now, and it was “closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet”.
A voice inside of my head then stated, with its typical matter of fact nature,
“HE IS HAVING AN EXPERIENCE WITH GOD”.
It was if Spirit’s gentle breezes were carrying away all of the mental debris accumulated over my lifetime. My mind was being immersed in peace and quiet, an almost totally unknown phenomenon to me. I was no longer separate from that which I was viewing. Everything revealed itself as an extension of myself, of my own true nature. For the first time in my existence, I could see that, as far as I can see, all that I will ever see, unto eternity, is my self. Then, with a sense of all of my thoughts now being my own, I asked myself
“HOW WILL I SEE MYSELF TODAY?”
I saw that all of humanity was my true family. I saw that everybody was either my brother, or my sister, in this new, true nature that was being revealed within me. I looked within myself, and for the first time in my life, I only saw peace, as well. The third person monologue had stopped!! I held my hands out before me, and my hands, which usually shook so bad that I could not even write my signature clearly, or use a spoon to eat from a bowl without making a mess, were steady!
Before 1987, there were “many people with their disfiguring concepts” roaming around in my mind, but now the committee of many was making its preparation to permanently adjourn, and the transitional energy was one of a peaceful presence, a new ordering principle for my consciousness.Peace had finally found me on a mountain peak, and I had finally found my true self. I had finally found that life, that TRUTH, I had been seeking since I know not when. And, a man who felt isolated for most of his life felt compelled to search for “my people”, which began a brand new journey of hope, connection, and healing with many others.
“WHERE ARE MY PEOPLE?”
became not only the question of that day, but now, also the question for my life, whenever I start to feel disconnected.
I found my new capacity for spiritual vision, a vision which catapulted me into a totally new life experience. I finally found what real recovery is. It is not just stopping drinking alcohol and using drugs. It is the decrease, and, ultimately, the elimination of all patterns of thought that keep me from caring for this world, and for all of the life upon it. I can’t be alive, and live life fully and holistically, without loving my fellow man, and all of the rest of the life upon our planet.
As i thought of the love that we have for our newborn baby, or for our favorite pet, we feel that love completely, with no reservations at all.
We spare none of our hearts or souls, do we?
Now think of that family member or acquaintance who is causing us so much distress, so much anger, even hatred. Can we give the same love that we would for our baby to that person who we are distressed with? If we can’t let go of those negative emotions, then that is an example of our separation from God, or Truth.
I then drove towards Portland, from Larch Mountain, and was guided to go to NE 73rd and Glisan, where the US Postal Service’s EAP program was based. I walked into the door, and I was greeted by both Larry and Mike (Mike visited me in the Care Unit 3 years before, and Larry was the director of the EAP since I could remember). I called out to them by name, yet neither man immediately recognized me. When I mentioned my name, they were both blown away. I was happy, or, more precisely, ebullient, and Mike said that I was simply “radiant”. They wanted to know what was going on with me, and I stated, with a matter of fact attitude, that I was having a “spiritual experience”, and they both gave me a huge hug and acknowledgement. Inspired by this reception, I returned to the Main Post Office, and checked in with the Personnel Department, where Eleanor Workman was the head of the department. She immediately recognized me, and then offered me an application to reapply for my “lost” position.
“No thank you, Eleanor, I just wanted to express my apologies for working for this company in such an unhappy manner for so many years”.
She stated that I could get the job back with little problem, since the Post Office knew that they fired me even though I was still a practicing alcoholic. I then stated that what would make me the happiest is if she could schedule a meeting between me and the head of Plant Maintenance, John Zimpleman. Well, he was “in”, so I went right up, and I had a direct opportunity to make amends to him for my poor performance from 1980-1985. He greeted me warmly, listened to my story, was quite impressed, and then stated that he wished his son could discover what I just found, because John Jr. was rapidly descending to my former level. Wow, this day of amends went so well, I remained ecstatic about all future interpersonal possibilities.
One day that next week, while visiting our world famous Powell’s Book Store on Burnside in Portland, I saw my old psychiatrist, Dr. Dan Beavers. He was standing in the metaphysical section of the book store. I walked up to him, and he did not immediately recognize me. I stuck my hand out to him, and re-introduced myself to him.
“Bruce, this can’t be you, can it? Last time I saw you, I was wondering how much longer you could survive if the medication did not turn your life around.”
“Dan, the medication worked just fine. I never used it, at least not in the way that you would have intended for me to use it. I finally found a new way to live life without medication, drugs, or alcohol. I now accept full personal responsibility for my thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and activities”.
“Bruce, that is the desired outcome for all of my patients. Congratulations on your success!”
I gave Dr. Dan a hug, and apologized for using him like a tool in my effort to manipulate my former employer, the US Postal Service. He said that I did not need to make amends to him, and that he was there for me to serve all of my needs, whether I considered them dysfunctional or otherwise. But it still felt good to see Dr. Dan and show him my healthier sense of self. I was to never see Dr. Dan again. When I recently saw his obituary for his premature death in 2015, I felt great sorrow, and cried.
In the continued interest of “finding my people”, I attend the INTA Conference in Portland In August of 1987 (International New Thought Alliance). The person that I was most interested in seeing was Jack Boland, the recovering alcoholic who had started a SUPER CHURCH in Minnesota, with well over 5000 members. He also had a following of many hundreds of thousands of recovering people worldwide, as his approach to spirituality, sobriety, and healing was pretty universal. The integration into this new community was a fascinating immersion into a group energy that I had never experienced before. I WAS SO HIGH THERE!!!
I got to see firsthand a group of well over 1000 people warmly embrace the musical group Alliance, which starred Jerry Florence. They had some hits in the 1980’s, and they were a group of gay men who all had HIV’/AIDS. Having recently left that “evil” Hinson Baptist Church where gays were bashed regularly, this was like a breath of life to a drowning man, even though I had no homosexual tendencies. The tenderness that I felt towards Jerry Florence and the group of men that constituted Alliance still lives in me today, and I still have tears today for the suffering of all people who have been judged as unworthy or just plain ignored.
In lat August of 1987, I visited my first wife Donelle at her apartment near Camas Washington. We had been divorced since 1984, but I still kept in touch with her on occasion, because of my concern for her. I wanted to make amends to her. I explained to her what my intention was for visiting her. I apologized for my own inadequacy, and selfishness, and my failure to protect her from the ravages of her own disease. I had a crushing sense of guilt that somehow I might be partially responsible for her mental illness, even though my rational mind informed me that I was a witness, rather than a contributor, to her disease.
This time, she was in the middle of a complete MPD (multiple personality disorder) type of nervous breakdown. She had candles lit throughout her apartment, and the setting was quite eerie. I sat down with her to talk, and I noted that she looked so young and innocent, and I was struck by the change in her appearance and countenance. As she spoke to me, I felt like I was witnessing a 6 or 7 year old girl, with the new persona that was now speaking through her. For some reason, I was inspired to give her feedback about her “six year old self” that I was witnessing. I told her that she was not responsible for the sexual abuse that she experienced from her step-father Bud when she was six years old(and perhaps one or two unnamed others during her mother Marlene’s drunken soirees). I tried to be as forgiving and compassionate as my heart would allow to the naive, innocent child making its presentation before me. We both cried together, and my heart was broken, and I hurt like I had never before hurt as a human being. I can only imagine her own terror and fear around her own abuse at the hands of her elders. Later in this visit, another “personality” appeared. A calm, composed mature person then “incarnated” into Donelle. I asked who I was talking with. She told me that she was “God”, and proceeded to give me the wisest, most loving feedback that I had ever received as a human being up to that point in my life.
“You have reached the point of being able to accept beauty in your life. You have made peace with your past, but the peace will not last forever. You have much work to do, but your work will have love guiding it, and protecting you.”
As I was open to “God” at that point in my life, it was a miracle that “God” could use the vehicle of a damaged human being to talk with me. That is how “God” works sometimes.
Looking at my history, I remained open to the revelations from the Mystery
Who can say with certainty what reality truly is? Those who cling too tightly to what they think that they know, can unintentionally exclude a “whisper from God” that might be experienced and revealed in the newness of each moment, no matter what or who the source may be.
Donelle’s reality was a most challenging one. I am distressed by the abuse that men over the course of her life heaped upon her. She was the most loving, kind person that I had every known, and she got bulldozed by our culture and community, and her diseased response to it. Nature, or nurture? Had Donelle been lovingly nurtured since birth through her adulthood, I would only hope that the disease would not have erupted. Traumatization of our most innocent of family members cannot lead to happy outcomes.
I have read about and heard from a few parents that their young children were so close to God, that when they first learned to talk, they would tell their parents about talking directly with God, or hearing God talk to them (or Jesus, or whatever their cultural background would predispose them to refer to). I did not have that experience as a youth, and, in fact, I was so far from that experience that I could not fathom the possibility of such a miracle. There was nothing heavenly about my birth or early childhood, and, in fact, I was on the opposite end of the peace spectrum from those other lucky, blessed children.
.
This new being, this upgraded Bruce 2.0, which appeared late in the summer of 1987, was like those miracle babies and children that I had always envied, and doubted. I spent over six hours a day in prayer and meditation, and I experienced blessed states on an almost continuous basis. I now heard and felt God, and I could hear and feel God in others. I was taught on the inner spiritual plane about aspects of life, and consciousness, that I had no way to learn or know about otherwise. This was not a Christian God, or a Jewish God, or the Buddha Mind, or Christ Consciousness, but those names certainly pointed to the new reality that I had somehow accessed, and been dramatically changed by. I was given a new blank slate to write my new self upon, a new possibility for living, and being, in this world. The world that I once wanted to depart from so badly, was now paradise on Earth, and I knew that Heaven was not a concept for the future, but a living reality only for the present moment. But, I could not carry the old me into that world, I had to leave my verbal and non-verbal memory possessions behind, so to speak, to stay in tune with the new Spiritual music.
I still had memories of my former life, yet they no longer informed my day-to-day thoughts, my decisions, or my overall outlook on life and love. I did not know who the new me was. I had no language to describe it to myself, or to others. I had a series of spiritual upheavals which defied my rational mind, and I did not have the words to describe or contain the experience for many years to follow. It was as if a new person had landed in my consciousness, the old me had died, and now I was informed, moment to moment, by a powerful force of peace or silence, or Love itself.
I did not have the language to communicate with others what I was experiencing, for many years after 1987. I would refer to my rebirth, and talk of the old me with those who were interested, especially in meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous. The people who met me after my rebirth could not believe that I was ever addicted or dysfunctional in self-destructive or other-destructive ways, and I learned to not wave that recovery flag at every new person I met, so that they could have an honest chance of knowing me for who I now was, rather than who I might have been long ago. It was my movement through all of these new relationships which helped to define for me the new me, who I was now, how I now related to and appreciated others, and how I now loved unconditionally most everyone that I met.
All of humanity became my brother or sister in this new reality, and my lifelong sense of dreadful separation from others had been lifted. I had set out to find “my people” and find out where I might fit into the new world order that was revealing itself within my mind and heart. In my naiveté, I assumed that most others naturally came by this understanding, and that I was finally catching up, spiritually, with the “normal folks”, the folks that never were so unhappy as to consider alcoholism, drug addiction, and/or suicide for themselves. Wow, I sure learned some tough lessons about the rest of humanity from this point forward!
My family still saw me in terms of the past, for the most part, as my history created great scars on the psyche of fellow family members, as well as the friends and acquaintances of my years prior to recovery. But, they could appreciate that the “new me” no longer required their extra concern or care, as I was now an independent, upright, fairly conscious human being. I made healthy choices in my relationships, and I chose a new, fulfilling career to replace all of the career wreckage from my past. I was but a boy again, though, while still learning the ropes, meeting new friends, discovering new possibilities for myself and others, and, occasionally, still sipping from the inner healing springs of the Miracle that can quench the spiritual thirst of all who seek it out.
The next chapter takes me through the spiritual channel where enlightenment becomes a real possibility, rather than a mysterious and unattainable phenomenon. The path of the Unknown, and its eternal revelation of love in the present moment, continues in earnest! Even now, when I forget who I am, and what my purpose is, I don’t have to travel back to the labyrinth of the underworld again to rediscover truth.
