There are several links on this page to previous blog posts, which can be bypassed, or explored, if the reader has extra time or interest. The links point to other interconnected and powerful stories, yet the linked stories are unnecessary to read to capture the essence of this blog post.
I do not know what the reader truly needs to know, to really connect with this unusual stream of consciousness blog post.
- “Life is Good, if you are good to Life”.
- “Just another shitty day in Paradise”.
- “It is what it is, but beware, it is not what it initially seems”.
- “All that we now see, or speculate that we will ever see, unto eternity, is our Self. How we see our Self determines the quality of our Life experience”.
- “To heal your world, first heal your self”
- “I yam what I yam, and that is all that I yam”
- “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a Dream”.
Choose your favorite spiritual cliche, or weapon of war, for we all have our life to manage, and, perhaps,, to conquer!
Am I collaborating with Life, or am I competing with Life, and do I really know the difference between the two poles?
Today, I choose to speak my truth, with as much compassion for myself and all others as I can muster, yet this is often a difficult proposition. My intention is avoid the pitfalls of falling into our culture’s conspiracy of silence. To speak one’s Truth is to often place oneself in another person’s cross hairs. As always, the chips will fall where they must fall.
I can still run two miles on the treadmill, without injury. Since I stopped running outdoors several years ago, and I discontinued competitive road racing, and training 60-80 miles a week, I have not broken my femur or tibia once. I had many stress fractures as a competitive athlete, with the last one almost causing my death because of a relapse into pain killer dependency.
4th place finish in 2002 Newport Marathon, as a 46 year old runner.
Outstanding, eh?
I took every medication that I have, and have thrown them out, save my blood pressure medicine, and Advil. I had quite a few medications left over from my kidney stone experience earlier this year, and I felt concerned about them being around our house. I had quite an unhealthy stockpile of medications, including narcotics, anti-nausea, anti-anxiety, anti-seizure and several other medications, and, subconsciously, I think that I was keeping this medication as preparation for my end days.
Having just talked with my great friend Akiko yesterday about her preparations for her own “Death With Dignity” by stockpiling medicines (should deteriorating health force her into that decision) made me realize that I am not alone, yet I do not want that kind of support.
January 28, 1986 I already tried the medicinal end to life, but, miraculously, I failed.
I have already watched a best friend, Marty, use Oregon’s Death With Dignity option in 2017 for his malignant melanoma (of which I am a long term survivor, since 2005)., He died of brain cancer on September 11, 2017 in the same week of my father’s death.
I have already lost three male friends to brain cancer. I know my own end days are nearer than my birth year. There is a conscious difference between addressing my final days realistically, with compassion for myself and others, and the standard death terrors that plagues so many nearing the end.
Which reminds me, since not abusing Oxycontin, and using over 400MG a day, I have not nearly died once since 2009. I have faced my own version of “death terror”, however. I will try to let nature run its course with me, but THIS IS A TOUGH ONE, as I contemplate my own mortality and inevitable course into the grave!
Outstanding, eh?
On October 14, I almost contacted Rachel Andrews, my ex-sister-in-law, who I have not seen in nearly 40 years. I decided against contacting my ex-brother in laws (3 of them) in my search for any information on my first wife, as I was anxious about how each of them might respond to me. The last time I saw Rachel, she told my (first) wife Donelle that she would not be caring for Rachel’s two young children as previously planned over the 1979 Thanksgiving weekend, (Dustin and Krista), because Rachel did not trust Donelle enough with her children, though Donelle’s brother Keith did, as well as myself…
Donelle was heartbroken, and had a massive nervous breakdown within the next week, from which she never really recovered. We had just got married three months before, and she was eventually hospitalized at Dammasch State Hospital in Salem, Oregon for several heartbreaking months. She eventually became a homeless person, in 1984-1985. .
I am afraid that had I contacted Rachel, I might have told her the truth about my ex-wife, Donelle’s brother and Rachel’s ex-husband Keith, and the rest of the family’s traumatized life experience at the hands of their real mother Marlene and stepfather Bud Barr. The story under these circumstances may have needlessly damaged Rachel, who is now in her 60’s, as well. Yet, now I am a conflicted part of the family’s conspiracy of silence, even though I am no longer part of the family.
On the night of October 15, I had a series of dreams, one of which possessed a most unique nature. In the dream I am in a community of healers and ecologists, who all live together in the same neighborhood. The residents have a community forum, and each may step up to the podium and offer their own unique message.
I have somehow stumbled upon the large group where there are to be several speakers. I see Rachel Andrews, my ex sister in law, step up to deliver her message. Rachel sees that I have an intense interest in her and her topic, and asks
“Hello, I do not recognize you, what is your name?”
“My name is Bruce Paullin”, I answer,
Rachel gives me an intense, searching look, says nothing then walks off the podium, and disappears into the crowd.
In real life, I wanted to see if she had any information about my first wife, Donelle, who I lost contact with 25 years ago, after the death of her father in 1996. I felt apprehension at facing a person who shared part of my past through relationship with overlapping parts of the same immensely troubled family system.
The most relevant fact here is that, for the first time in my dream life, I have claimed my name and presence together in the dreamscape, and I engaged directly with my fear, while also being immersed in a crowd of strangers.
I was no longer hiding from who I am, as I have been so prone to do for most of my life..
I am that I am.
I am Bruce Paullin
Outstanding, eh?
My aunt Susie (my deceased father’s sister, who is 92 years old, and failing in health from a variety of issues, including MS) went with us to visit my Uncle Wayne today. Wayne, who is my deceased mother’s younger brother, is 84 years old, and has a few weeks left to live. Wayne’s son died last Christmas.
Wayne’s youngest daughter just does not have the heart to care for her father.
Screenshot of last exchange with Caryn before she unfriended me and refuses to now speak to me.
Wayne’s oldest daughte, Carla, has sacrificed much of her life to care for her father this last year (reminiscent of the five year sacrifice I made for my own father, ending four years ago). Carla needed a break, and traveled to Hawaii for two weeks, leaving her best friend Donna caring for my Uncle..
Susie was concerned enough about Wayne to want to visit with him. When it was time to go, Susie could not walk, her MS was so active, and we had to almost carry her to our car when it was time to leave.
Susie spent $60 while at our house to send flowers to her estranged daughter Cindy Enos, whose 60th birthday was today. Cindy also has left the care and love of her mother to my wife Sharon and myself, having rejected her own relationship with her mother. Susie now calls my wife her daughter.
Outstanding, eh?
Each day has a few wins, a few losses, and a few ties for me to contemplate..
Playing the role of yet another of the world’s “corrective heroes” does not suit me well now, nor, perhaps it never did. Yet, I will publish at least one book, just to affirm that what I have to say has value, at least to me. And, this book will be BOOK #8, my final book, unless my Spirit tells me otherwise.
I choose to live my life,. and my death, with dignity, while I continue to live my life, and prepare for my inevitable passing. If my wife should pass before me, I will manage the difficult path by myself, as I have no heirs, nor any living family left alive who cares about us, as we care for each other.
How did your day go?
Outstanding, eh?
