Life: Forgiveness

"So then, the relationship of self to other is the complete realization that loving yourself is impossible without loving everything defined as other than yourself.

Other people teach us who we are. Their attitudes to us are the mirror in which we learn to see ourselves, but the mirror is distorted." - Alan Watts

Warning: 

This post contains disturbing content regarding suicide. The content may not be suitable for all readers. 

Part 4 of my personal mental health journey continues .... 

---

Sometimes in our lives

We all have pain

We all have sorrow

But if we are wise

We know that there's always tomorrow - Lean on Me - Bill Withers

My local church was, as it always is on weekday mornings, peaceful, quiet and calming. Churches (and airport chapels when I'm traveling) are some of my favorite places to go when I can't get out in nature.

In addition to the many things church builders wish their creations to be, I have always felt that churches embody the essence of humanity as generations of people have infused the energy of happiness and sadness within the structure itself.

I was sitting in the church, reflecting on my recent therapy session around forgiveness - forgiveness of others and forgiveness of myself.

An older gentleman knelt in the pew next to me saying his Rosary in earnest as he gazed upwards at Jesus on the cross behind the altar.

As I looked over at him, he concluded his Rosary, blessed himself and sat back in the pew. He looked over at me and our eyes met.

He slowly stood up, genuflected as he left his pew and came towards me, gesturing me to slide over to make room for him.

"Great", I thought, "I came here to be left alone."

Despite my reluctance, I moved over to accomodate his request and he slowly sat down beside me.

"For someone sitting here in the quiet peace of God, you sure have a large frown creased across your forehead", he observed with a heavy accent.

"German?" I thought.

I shrugged, hesitant to discuss my innermost thoughts with a complete stranger.

As if to read my mind, he continued, "It's ok if you don't want to talk about it."

"It's not that", I replied, a little defensively, "I don't like to burden people with my own stuff. People have their own Life to worry about. No offense."

"None taken", he replied.

And then without missing a beat, he asked, "So what's on your mind?"

"He's persistent", I thought.

"I was just reflecting on my recent therapy session", I replied, being cautious about revealing too much.

"I see", he replied, "It sounds like you were given a lot to think about."

There was silence between us.

Lean on me

When you're not strong

And I'll be your friend

I'll help you carry on.  - Lean on Me - Bill Withers

"You know", he said, "In my time, one of my specialties was in the area of relationships and how to help people live in harmony."

"You were a psychologist or psychiatrist?" I queried, curious why he had specifically identified relationships as his speciality.

"Not quite", he replied, chuckling, "We didn't have labels like that back then. I was famous for writing a paper on the three kinds of relationships: the useful, the pleasurable, and the authentic, the latter being based on unqualified goodness."

"Interesting", I said, frowning at my ignorance of his work, "Where can I find this paper?"

"I have a copy in my bag", he replied, "You can have it if you like. It's not in English, if that's ok."

"That's ok", I replied, "I'll find it on the Web."

"Suit yourself", he shrugged.

"I was thinking about a visit to the hospital some time ago when I had been admitted for a medical emergency", I heard myself say, "For some reason, as I lay upon the bed, I felt the presence of my former wife who died suddenly some years back."

"Interesting", he said, "And what was the significance of her appearing to you?"

"It sounds strange, "I replied, "But I sensed that she was apologizing for how we had lived our Life together and how she had departed this Life. She had lived a difficult Life as a young girl and her depature was sudden and unplanned."

"That sounds powerful", he replied, softly, "And how did you respond?"

"Well", I said, somewhat embarrassed, "I know this sounds weird, but I apologized to her in return for my role in our relationship."

I paused as my eyes misted.

"And then I forgave her and asked for her forgiveness", I said, my voice choking up.

"Sorry", I said, feeling embarrassed as I took my glasses off to wipe my eyes.

Please swallow your pride

If I have things you need to borrow

For no one can fill

Those of your needs that you won't let show - Lean on Me - Bill Withers

"There is no need to apologize", he said, softly, as he offered me a tissue to wipe my eyes which I accepted with thanks.

"What brought this to mind?" he asked.

I took a moment to compose myself before replying.

"In my therapy session today, we were exploring the concept of speaking to our younger self", I said, "And embracing and loving the young self. In its wounded state, it is so powerful, pervasive and persistent, that it has a huge impact on the quality of our adult lives."

"Ah yes", he replied, "The power of this type of therapy came along long after I had completed my work."

I nodded.

"What I didn't know", I replied, "Was that the younger self was having such an impact on the quality of my whole Life. I didn't realize it."

"Interesting", the man said, "Can you give me an example?"

"Well", I began, "I realized that my younger self, by not receiving affirmation of value as a child, was so desperate for it that I, as an adult, inadvertantly chose relationships with people who needed help. Oftentimes, they needed a lot of help."

"How did that turn out?" he asked.

"It rarely went well", I admitted, "In my subconscious, I was seeking to be affirmed by them for "saving them". In reality, they were unable or unwilling to give me the affirmation I needed, and the relationships often got complicated."

"Why do you think they couldn't give you what you needed?" he asked, with sincere interest.

"When my therapist and I explored what their own childhoods looked like", I said, "Their younger selves had become crippled with needs similar to and different from mine. So while I was subconsciously seeking to solve my younger self 's needs by helping other people, their younger selves had strong needs also. They were different from and not in synch with mine. For that reason, we each didn't satisfy the needs of the other even though most of it was hidden in plain sight at the time."

"Well", I continued, "It looks obvious in retrospect knowing what I know now."

I paused.

"And since neither of us understood the impact of loneliness, sadness, and the lack of affirmation hiding in the subconscious of our younger self, we each blamed the other for not understanding our respective needs", I continued.

"Wow", he said, "That's a powerful revelation."

"The biggest thing", I replied, "Is that I now understand what was driving each of us and in knowing this, much of the pain for events of the past has left me. I just wish I had known about these things a long time ago."

I hesitated, not wanting to share the remainder of the therapy session.

He sensed my hesitation and encouraged me to continue.

"Well", I said, "We spent the rest of the session sending the energy of forgiveness to every person whom I felt that I had ever wronged."

"And", I added, "Asking for theirs in return."

Tears rolled down my face but I didn't care at that point.

"To realize that our younger self, with its need to be loved, to be affirmed, to be heard, could have such an impact on our adult Life, was such a powerful concept to understand. The reality is that instead of fighting with others, we should be better equipped to help each other, to hear our younger selves and to help each other heal our younger selves."

I paused.

"And to forgive our younger selves", I said quietly, "It's not their fault. They are a product of genetics and Life experiences. If I had the genetics and Life experiences of someone who made me really angry, I would in fact be just like the person that angered me."

"A sobering thought", he said, gently, "That sounds like unconditional forgiveness to me."

"Maybe", I replied.

I hesitated before offering something else from my therapy session.

If there is a load you have to bear

That you can't carry

I'm right up the road

I'll share your load

If you just call me - Lean on Me - Bill Withers

"My therapist and I were wondering if reaching out to various people would be a good idea", I said, "Almost like the step in Alcoholics Anonymous where alcoholics reach out to others to apologize for the impact that their alcoholism had on others."

"I'm not sure that's the best approach", he replied, "Send the energy of forgiveness to the Universe and allow it to reach them that way. The ones who are ready to receive it will find their way back to you so that your respective healing can happen. Those who are not ready for this are better left alone for now,"

I nodded in agreement.

"I'm grateful that you shared this with me", he said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "Ofttenimes, the act of sharing with others is an important part of healing. Sharing it also sends a statement to the Universe about your intention for healing yourself and others."

"Thank you for listening", I replied, "I am very grateful for this."

I frowned as I thought about the best way to ask my next question.

"Do you think she actually visited me in the hospital?" I asked.

"I think she did", he replied, "It was important for her to express forgiveness and to receive it before moving on in her own journey. Our journey is not limited to what we experience on Earth."

"There is", he continued, "A theory that what we change in the present, including offering and receiving forgiveness, makes its way to our past, including to our younger self, and from there, rewrites part of our present."

"This sounds like multiverse theory or something", I said.

"I don't know the details of what you are referring to", he laughed, quietly, "A lot of knowledge came along long after my time. I was thinking more from a spiritual sense. But if science has a way of explaining it also, it sounds worthwhile to explore."

"My name is Albert, by the way", he said, offering his hand, "I'm grateful that we had an opportunity to chat today."

I shook his hand.

"Harry", I replied, "I'm grateful that we had an opportunity to chat also. Thank you for listening."

"My pleasure and honor", he said, "I will let you get on with your thinking."

"But", he said as he stood up, "Do yourself a favor. Don't think too much, I think your heart needs more exercise than your head today. As your therapist explored the importance of being gentle with others, so I ask you to be gentle with yourself."

"In other words", he said, "Your mind is better as an instrument of realization than one of rationalization."

He smiled.

"Auf wiedersehen", he said, smiling, and he began walking towards the back of the church.

I sat in silence for a while, reflecting on the conversation with my therapist and the gentleman who had kindly taken the time to listen to me.

"We all need to be heard", I thought, "both the younger and adult selves."

"And in fact", I thought, "We all need to do more listening and less talking."

I paused and sent a prayer of gratitude to the Universe for every person I had ever met and for every situation I had ever experienced in my Life. I also sent a thought of forgiveness to the same people and silently asked for theirs in return.

I stood up, genuflected by the pew and walked to the back of the church.

I paused in the church narthex, as I often do, to examine the announcements and such when my eyes fell on a pamphlet promoting the church and its namesake.

It wasn't so much the content that caught my eye but the picture on the top of the page.

"Wow", I thought, "That looks almost exactly like the guy I just spoke to. In fact, it looks exactly like him."

I smiled to myself.

I pushed through the door of St. Albert the Great Church, being careful to lock  the door behind me.

I paused.

"No. It can't be", I thought.

I shrugged as I turned my collar up against the cold to walk home.

To be continued.

With love,

Harry

---

St. Albert the Great, a Roman Catholic saint who lived in the 1200s, was a scientist, a theologian, a student of the humanities and someone who wrote a number of famous articles including some on the formation and healing of relationships.

There are many people who believe that they  are visited by saints and ancestors in times of struggle or discernment.

I believe it happens when we are open to the possibility.

What do you think? 

This post is part of a series describing my personal mental health journey after considering taking my own Life. It is my hope that something within these posts will help others find the courage they need to ask for help, to persevere with the help, love and support of others and at some point, to be the strength that someone else needs.

This is part 4.

The entire series can be found here:

• The Wrong Way to Catch a Bus
• Life: Choices and Possibilities
• Life: Self-Reliance and Courage
• Life: Forgiveness
• Life: Creating Space
• Life: A Question of Free Will
• Life: Who Will Bell the Cat?
• Life: The Significance of the Insignificant

My recent journey has given me much to think about in regards to the impact we have on others and the impact that they have on us. My exploration around the younger self has opened my eyes to what drives our behavior as adults.

To understand the needs of the younger self, to understand the impact that these needs have on our adult selves, and to understand how to comfort and heal the younger self, is an important exercise that everyone should explore. The quality of one's Life improves dramatically when the younger self's needs are heard and understood.

I strongly recommend the book The Child in You by Stefanie Stahl. While few things are as powerful as therapy, the insights in this book are startling and powerful. I hope it brings you the level of insight that it brought me. 

And lest I forget, here is the late, great Bill Withers with Lean on Me:

Life: Self-Reliance and Courage

"When a man no longer confuses himself with the definition of himself that others have given him, he is at once universal and unique. He is universal by virtue of the inseparability of his organism from the cosmos. He is unique in that he is just this organism and not any stereotype of role, class, or identity assumed for the convenience of social communication.

Problems that remain persistently insoluble should always be suspected as questions asked in the wrong way." - Alan Watts

Warning: 

This post contains disturbing content regarding suicide. The content may not be suitable for all readers. 

Part 3 of my personal mental health journey continues .... 

---

If I said what's on my mind

You'd turn and walk away

Disappearing way back in your dreams - A Man I'll Never Be - Boston

A difficult day had come to an end and I sighed heavily as I prepared for bed. My therapist had expressed happiness earlier in the day that we had had a productive session, although he had warned me that there might be residual thoughts that might come to mind. If they did, I was to write them in my journal for our next session.

I lay in bed for a while and stared at the ceiling as I tried to force myself to relax. Sometimes those relaxation exercises were much easier to do in the safety of a therapist's office than alone at night.

I finally drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, I gasped as I found myself swimming in warm water in near-total darkness.

I panicked and turned in all directions until I could see lights on the shore about half a mile or so away.

"Do you remember where you are?" a now familiar voice asked me to my left.

I tread water slowly as I looked to my left.

Gabriel was treading water close by, effortless in his ability to stay afloat.

I nodded.

"Back in 1994, I was caught in a riptide off the coast of the Jersey shore", I said, trying not swallow salt water as small ocean swells passed under me.

"I've heard the story a few times", Gabriel said, smiling.

"My Boss was really impressed with how calm you were that night", he added.

"Well", I replied, "It was that or drown I suppose. As for being calm, maybe I faked it really well."

"Although", I noted, "If I had drowned then, I wouldn't have tried to take my Life years later."

"We're not going to debate that right now", Gabriel replied sternly but gently.

He paused before continuing.

"There was the matter of a few hazards in the water at the time, if I recall correctly", he observed.

A power boat blew by at a distance of about 20 to 30 feet away. They couldn't see us in the darkness as their wake washed over us.

"Ah yes", Gabriel said, "There were the powerboats that couldn't see you and ... what was the other thing that crossed your mind that night?"

"Sharks", I replied, shuddering at the memory.

"Ah yes", Gabriel contemplated, "Sharks. Life is always filled with obstacles to overcome."

He paused.

"As I recall, you had a conversation with my Boss all the way back to shore", he continued.

I remembered the night clearly. I had to swim parallel to the shore for quite a distance before I felt the riptide release its grip on me so that I could safely return to shore.

"Well", Gabriel said, interrupting my thoughts, "The ending for this adventure in the water is the most important part of this memory. We can skip reliving your long swim to shore."

Suddenly we were standing on the boardwalk and my then wife was asking where I had been.

I explained that I had been pulled out to sea by the riptide and it had taken quite an effort for me to find a safe way back to shore.

"Well, that's fine", she said, "Now hurry and get dressed. We need to pick up Harry Jr. in an hour, and we can't keep the babysitter waiting."

She turned and walked down the boardwalk.

It's so hard to be unkind

So easy just to say

That everything is just the way it seems - A Man I'll Never Be - Boston

Gabriel was silent for a moment before turning towards me.

"That wasn't quite the response you had hoped for was it?" he asked gently.

"No", I replied.

"Why didn't you say something in response?" he asked.

"It wasn't worth the argument that would have followed", I replied.

"That's fair", Gabriel replied, "On an upnote, I thought you demonstrated some strong self-reliance and courage in escaping the riptide. Most people would not have survived the riptide and would likely have never been found again."

He paused and pursed his lips.

"However", he continued, "When it came to a little self-reliance during the exchange with your wife, you didn't stand up for yourself. Why didn't you?"

I shrugged but didn't reply.

"Self reliance and courage", Gabriel observed, "Are like any muscle in the body. They get stronger the more they are used. And sometimes, they are discovered from within us when Life thrusts things upon us that we think we can't survive. If we knew that that moment was created for the benefit of our souls's development, we might respond a little differently."

"That being said", he continued, "You had the courage to call for help when you were deciding whether or not you wanted to live. Most men don't ask for help. You should feel proud for standing up for yourself and your Life when it counted."

His eyes lit up.

"Remember when you were younger and you used to have dreams of being the front man in a rock band?", he asked with a smile.

"Who didn't at some point?" I replied.

"That's the spirit", Gabriel exclaimed as he put his arm around my shoulders.

And suddenly, we were backstage at what appeared to be a rock concert.

"Hmmm", said Gabriel, "I think this is a Boston concert!"

He looked out from behind the curtain.

"Brad Delp has stepped away it seems", Gabriel mused, "This might be a great opportunity to make your dream come true."

If only I could find a way

I'd feel like I'm the man you believe I am

It's getting harder every day for me

To hide behind this dream you see

A man I'll never be - A Man I'll Never Be - Boston

"There is no way I'm going on that stage", I protested vehemently.

"Oh yes, you are", Gabriel replied, "I believe your sense of self-reliance and courage is stronger than your fear to go out there."

"And besides", he said, "There is only one song left in the set."

He grabbed me by the arm and escorted me to the piano, practically forcing me to plop down on the piano bench.

"Break a leg", he said as he winked playfully.

I looked at the sheet music.

"The title of the song is Self-Reliance and Courage?" I asked myself as I stared at the page.

I blinked and looked at the sheet music again.

"A Man I'll Never Be" was written clearly across the top.

"It's ok", Gabriel said, "This is an audience of people who care. The first step to healing is the courage required to put your hand up and tell people you need help."

He gave me a wave as he walked off the stage.

"We're waiting for you", he said over his shoulder as he disappeared behind the curtain.

I paused ... petrified.

Then I played to the best of my ability. We are always better in our dreams after all.

The crowd roared when we finished the song, and the band waved as they ran off the stage.

I sat there, awash in gratitude as I felt the adulation from the crowd.

Gabriel came out on stage and gave me a big hug.

"Self-reliance and courage are powerful forces", he said, smiling, "You were AMAZING!"

I was too numb to reply.

Suddenly we were back in my bedroom.

"Courage and self-reliance", Gabriel said, "Are things that most of us have in ample quantity but many times we summon it only when we're forced to. At other times, we don't believe we have enough and we hide in fear."

He paused.

"And sometimes we need to see it in someone else before we realize we have it also", he continued, "I need you to share this journey with others. There are people who need to hear this story to rediscover their own courage. This is especially important when it comes to hearing the story of someone whom no one thought could experience trouble in his Life."

I nodded but didn't say anything.

Gabriel looked over at my night table and saw a key laying beside the lamp.

He picked it up and placed it in my hand.

"I'm glad you still have this", he said.

"It was a gift from someone very important to me", I said quietly.

"It was a gift from an angel. We send angels in many forms", Gabriel said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I can't get any stronger

And I can't climb any higher

You'll never know just how hard I've tried

Cry a little longer

And hold a little tighter

Emotions can't be satisfied - A Man I'll Never Be - Boston

I could hear a faint tone in the background.

"I think that's your alarm", Gabriel said, smiling, "I guess I better let you start your day."

"Remember", he said, "You have more than enough courage and self-reliance. You just need to rediscover them and then help others find them within themselves."

He faded just as my wake-up alarm reached its full crescendo.

I woke with a start and rubbed my eyes.  

Opening my hand, I realized I was still holding the key.

I reached for my journal on the night table.

To be continued.

With love,

Harry

---

Brad Delp was a hero of mine when he was the lead vocalist for Boston back in their heyday. Sadly, he took his own Life in 2007.

This post is part of a series describing my personal mental health journey after considering taking my own Life. It is my hope that something within these posts will help others find the courage they need to ask for help, to persevere with the help, love and support of others and at some point, to be the strength that someone else needs.

This is part 3.

The entire series can be found here:

• The Wrong Way to Catch a Bus
• Life: Choices and Possibilities
• Life: Self-Reliance and Courage
• Life: Forgiveness
• Life: Creating Space
• Life: A Question of Free Will
• Life: Who Will Bell the Cat?
• Life: The Significance of the Insignificant

I believe that when others share their courage with us and we share ours with them, we are unstoppable. What do you think?

If you need help, the greatest courage you can show is to ask for help.

I did and I am ever grateful for it.

Life: Choices and Possibilities

"To act or grow creatively, we must begin from where we are, but we cannot begin at all if we are not "all here" without reservation or regret. Lacking self-acceptance, we are always at odds with our point of departure, always doubting the ground on which we stand, always so divided against ourselves that we cannot act with sincerity." - Alan Watts

Warning: 

This post contains disturbing content regarding suicide. The content may not be suitable for all readers. 

My personal mental health journey continues .... 

---

 

Love

Devotion

Feeling

Emotion - Return to Innocence - Enigma

I stood looking at the accident in front of me. People were running in all directions around the bus that was stopped in the middle of the road. Behind the bus, a tarp had been placed around who I assumed must be the victim.

The driver was sitting in the back of an ambulance, staring into the sky with tears in his eyes as EMS asked him questions.

Passengers mulled about, some on the phones, some just looking around.

"What happened?" a soft voice said next to me.

"I don't know", I replied without looking, "I think someone was hit by the bus but I'm not sure."

"You didn't see it happen?" the voice asked me gently.

"I'm not sure", I stammered, "It's confusing. I don't remember seeing it happen but I don't remember walking up to it either."

I looked upon the scene of confusion and sadness.

My eyes flitted over a number of things and then suddenly fell upon a very distinctive satchel lying on the ground.

"That's odd", I said quietly, recognizing the unique one-of-a-kind leather satchel, "That looks like my satchel on the street."

I started to walk towards it when the person next to me took me by the arm, gently but forcefully.

"Not yet", he said as we turned to face each other.

His gentle, pale blue eyes looked into mine and I felt that somehow, he was reading into my soul.

"We should talk first", he said, "Let's move away from the scene and let these people do their thing."

"But my satchel ....", I began to protest.

"Will be fine right where it is", the stranger said, "You don't need it."

Numbly, I let him escort me a slight distance from the accident scene.

"It's been a complex day for you", the stranger said.

"I guess so", I shrugged, puzzled that I didn't seem to remember anything at all until I was looking at the accident.

I frowned and the stranger smiled.

"Your memory returns to you after a while", he said, "It just takes a little while for the transition to complete."

"Transition?" I asked.

The stranger nodded and then gestured towards an ambulance behind the bus. As they loaded the body into the ambulance, a small gust of wind caught everyone by surprise and the cover on the body lifted ever so slightly.

I gasped.

It was me.

"You wanted it to look like an accident", the stranger said.

I felt weak, unable to think and barely able to stand.

"Does it matter to others if it was an accident or on purpose?" he asked gently, "Does it change the outcome?"

Suddenly, it seemed later in the day and we were standing outside by my front door. A priest and a policeman had knocked at the door and my son was just opening it.

"You don't need to see what happens next", he said and suddenly we were sitting in a beautiful garden.

My head spun with disorientation.

"How did I get here?" I stammered.

"It's ok", he said gently, "You will understand everything soon enough."

I shook my head, totally confused.

"Patience", he said, "You will."

"You have reached a point of reckoning", the stranger said, "Not everyone gets to avail of such a gift. Most people I visit are at the end of their journey."

I nodded, observing a young boy who was walking towards us.

As he approached the bench next to me, I gasped.

It was me at about the age of 4 or 5.

"I think he wants you to go over to speak to him", the man said.

"Why?" I asked, standing up without realizing why I felt compelled to do so.

"You will see", he replied, smiling.

I walked over to the younger me's bench and sat down.  He looked up at me, smiled but didn't say anything.

Don't be afraid to be weak

Don't be too proud to be strong

Just look into your heart my friend

That will be the return to yourself

The return to innocence - Return to Innocence - Enigma

"My friend", I said, gesturing to the man on the bench, "said I needed to speak to you but I don't know why."

"Ok", young Harry replied, "I know who your friend is."

"How is your day?" I asked, awkwardly fumbling for an ice-breaker in the conversation.

"It's ok", he replied.

After a long pause, young Harry looked up at me quizzically.

"You were going to kill yourself, weren't you?" he asked, with a frown creasing his forehead.

"I thought about it", I replied, feeling the shame of the admission as it swept over me.

"That would have ruined everything I hoped for in my future", young Harry said, his voice carrying hurt and accusation in it.

"Well", I said, defensively, "You were a big part of the reason I thought about it. It's partially your fault."

Little Harry's eyebrows went up in surprise..

"Maybe it wasn't my fault", he said quietly.

We both paused and stared at the ground in silence.

A fog began moving in around us which I thought was odd. The temperature was comfortably warm and there was no visible water around us. Soon we were engulfed in it and my companion on the other bench faded from sight.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked innocently as he turned towards me.

"Where?" I replied.

"This way", he said, standing and walking slowly on the gravel path in front of the bench,

I got up and followed him, noticing that the curious fog parted slightly in front of me, giving me about 20 feet of horizon to see in front of me.

"I think I know you", he said quietly, "But I'm not sure from when."

"That could be", I said quietly in return. Then I paused.

He said he knew me from "somewhen" and not "somewhere".

"When would you like to go first?" he asked, turning and looking at me with eyes that danced a mix of curiosity and mischievousness.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused, "When?"

"For instance", he said, "Do you remember this?"

The fog cleared and I was standing in my kindergarten classroom.  It was my first day of school and I was crying as my mother waved to me as she left the classroom.

"What is this?" I said, confused, "How are you doing this?"

"We're on a journey of healing", my younger self replied, "We hurt each other through the journey of our Life. Now we are going to go back over that journey to begin healing each other. The world, including your past, is not as fixed as you think it is. In fact, it changes as you change your perception about it."

"How is that possible?" I asked.

And if you want, then start to laugh

If you must, then start to cry

Be yourself don't hide

Just believe in destiny - Return to Innocence - Enigma

"You'll see", he said, "We will meet many times over the next little while to explore this."

He walked out of the classroom and I followed him. The strange fog enveloped us again as we walked for a few minutes. As it cleared, I found myself standing in front of my original companion.

He was smiling as the fog cleared completely. 

"Harry blames me for his problems", little Harry said to my companion.

"Blame is a difficult thing, often not productive and often distorted based on our perceptions at the moment", my companion replied.

I hung my head in shame.

Young Harry began walking away slowly and I sang out to him.  He turned, smiled and waved, before turning to continue walking away from me.

"You will speak to him often in your journey", my companion said, "He doesn't hold grudges. I suspect he needs to be heard as much as you do."

"What is going on here?" I asked.

"Answers will come", my companion said, "But for now, it is time to listen."

"Your Life", he continued, "Is a series of cycles. What brought you to this very moment has much to do with how you completed these cycles and what you intend to do with the cycles that you have remaining. As I said before, not many people get such a gift, a pause that allows them to reassess their Life to adjust for how they will finish it."

I sat down on the bench, listening attentively.

"Each cycle", the stranger went on, "While seeming to be merely the Life that you have lived, has defined start and end points.  Each cycle has specific lessons in it for your soul to learn and the cycle length is determined by how quickly you learn the lessons.  Longer cycles or cycles that seemed to have more difficulty in them merely had more complex lessons or contained lessons where you stubbornly didn't get it and so you were fed the lesson in many forms until you finally passed the test for the cycle."

I nodded. It made sense. Sort of. Well. Maybe not.

He paused for a moment and then spoke again.

"Each cycle also contains one key person who, through their actions, thrust you into the start of your next cycle. Unbeknownst to them, they are also within their own soul learning cycles and part of their role is to guide or throw you into the next cycle of your Life. This person may stay with you for years, for months and for some people, your cycles will overlap for a day, hours, minutes or even seconds."

He reflected for a moment before continuing.

"In return, you taught each of them a necessary lesson in their own learning journey.  For one or both of you, the exchange could have been beautiful or jarring. However, both of you should realize at that moment that the exchange between you was designed specifically for the benefit of each of you, regardless of whether or not you continued your journey together."

Don't care what people say

Just follow your own way

Don't give up and use the chance

To return to innocence - Return to Innocence - Enigma

He smiled.

"For some of them, your journey with them ended at that moment.  For some the journey together paused but will resume when the purpose of resumption is revealed.  For some, the relationships continue for the foreseeable future but neither of you can predict how far into the future that relationship will continue."

He paused and allowed me to absorb what he was telling me before continuing.

"Humans put too much stock into saying things are "forever" when the reality is that they have no idea how long things will last because your understanding of the purpose of the relationship and the Universe's knowledge of that purpose are often vastly different. Lack of knowledge in this area is responsible for creating a lot of unrealistic expectations when relationships begin and a lot of unnecessary acrimony when relationships end."

"For now", he said, "I would like you to reflect on the cycles in your Life and who you think is the key person in each cycle. I'm curious to see if you can see their purpose in your Life and your purpose in theirs."

"I'm especially curious", he said, with his eyes twinkling, "If you know who that person is in your current cycle transition." 

I frowned as I started to think through this.

He laughed quietly.

"Not yet", he said, "I and others will come to you in your dream time and your waking time to help you understand this."

"But .....", I began to protest.

Suddenly, I could hear what I thought was counting.

A voice was counting down.

Ten.

Nine.

"I think someone is calling you", he said, smiling.

"I want to stay here", I replied, "I need to learn more."

"You've learned enough for now. It is important now that you share what you've learned. Many more things will be revealed to you."

Five.

Four.

"By the way", the stranger said, leaning in and smiling, "My name is Gabriel."

Two.

"You will hear from me again", he said, his voice fading out.

That's not the beginning of the end

That's the return to yourself

The return to innocence - Return to Innocence - Enigma

---

"You are back with me, Harry", a familiar voice said, "Can you hear me?"

I opened my eyes and saw my therapist's office.

"Relax", my therapist said, "That was quite the dream that you remembered."

"Dream?", I said, bewildered.

My phone sounded a chime, indicating that my lymphoma appointment was coming up in 24 hours.

To be continued.

With love,

Harry

---

This post is continued from my post The Wrong Way to Catch the Bus. 11 people had reached out to me by the time I wrote this to tell me that that post prevented them from taking their own Life. I am indebted to them for sharing their powerful journey with me.

This is part 2.

The entire series can be found here:

• The Wrong Way to Catch a Bus
• Life: Choices and Possibilities
• Life: Self-Reliance and Courage
• Life: Forgiveness
• Life: Creating Space
• Life: A Question of Free Will
• Life: Who Will Bell the Cat?
• Life: The Significance of the Insignificant

This is the power that comes from sharing difficult things.

We live, love, lift and learn together.

And for fun, I'm sharing the song Return to Innocence by Enigma (their powerful lyrics are sprinkled throughout this post).

The Wrong Way to Catch a Bus

What upsets people is not things themselves, but their judgements about these things. - Epictetus

We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more from imagination than from reality. -  Seneca

You have power over your mind not outside events, realize this and you will find strength. - Seneca

Warning: 

This post contains disturbing content regarding suicide. The content may not be suitable for all readers. 

My personal mental health journey begins .... 

---

I have lived a Blessed Life! A healthy family. A dream-career filled with accolades and awards. Amazing friends whom I would die for. Overcoming a terminal illness in March of 1996, walking away from airplane "incidents" that could have killed me and a number of other things that have caused many people to tell me how "lucky" or "God-blessed" I am.

My career has led me from a small town in Newfoundland to a Wall St. career, a company IPO plus other business successes, and hunting bad guys for various government entities in multiple countries.

I've been blessed to be able to entertain side gigs like paying for the court costs for battered women and supporting them in other ways.

Yes - I have it all.

Sure, there were some personal relationships that had run aground recently; surprisingly, abruptly and painfully. But this is Life, isn't it?

And yes, there were some concerns that my elevated white blood cell count was taking me down the same place where I was in March of 1996 when, at the time, I was told that I had three months to live.

But again, that's Life. We take the good and the bad in stride. We suck it up.

Especially if you're a man.

From the outside looking in, you would see a successful, confident, educated, businessman and community advocate.

Catching the Bus My Way

On Tuesday of this week, I was walking down the street in Calgary and I decided to catch a bus.

No - not the usual way at the bus stop like most of you. I wanted to step in front of it. 

But at least I had the wherewithal to pause and wonder how I could make it look like an accident. 

For some reason, that was really important to me.

I also had the wherewithal to wonder what the impact of this would have on the driver, scarring him for Life. I also took a moment to think about my family, my friends and colleagues. And after this "processing", which happened in seconds, I contemplated "catching" the bus anyway. 

I stepped to the side of the street, paused and then waved to the driver as he drove by and he waved back.

And then I reached out to the Calgary Mental Health Help Line, saving both myself and the driver from a more complicated ending that would have tied us together for the rest of his Life.

I realized at that moment that I didn't remember any of my day nor could I remember anything I was supposed to be working on. I had run to the end of my journey, a journey that was not a marathon or two but rather, thousands of 100-meter dashes and I was too tired to continue. 

I never slowed down until the day I decided those sprints would stop by my hand.

I was afraid. I had never thought anything like this in my Life and here I was in tears, shamefully admitting that I couldn't go forward. While chatting with Luke, the person on the other end of the help line, I notified some family and close friends that I was safe but was on the phone with someone who was saving my Life.

Luke was amazing. He was calm and guided me through a conversation that I never thought I would have with anybody. I have saved a number of people from suicide and yet here I was using "that shameful word to describe me". We talked about my career, especially in recent years with lots of photos of mutilated bodies, and he expressed empathy and concern for someone who could endure such punishment for so long. I felt love from Luke, a stranger, which is what I needed at that moment. 

Meanwhile, my friends and family whom I scared the bejesus out of were all reaching out like crazy.

Luke gave me a lot of resources to explore, assured himself that I was ok and that I would be with other people and then made a promise to reconnect with me this week.

And so the moment passed ..... or so I thought.

I've Done All the Right Things

My Life has always been high-pressured. To compensate, I released the energy through service to others. I am an avid Stoic philosophy fan. I study Buddhism and the Tao and practice breathing and meditation techniques. I try to exercise regularly although I haven't been behaving in recent weeks. I have my faith in a Higher Authority and pray regularly.

So I'm doing everything properly.

Right?

Not really.

My clever mind had found ways to hide a growing problem in my psyche from all of these helpful tools and techniques. It was like a computer virus that was designed to hide itself from various anti-virus technology.

I discovered that I was an imposter to myself and had been for decades despite my success in the outside world.

I realized that the persona (or facade) that I had projected to others for decades was in fact not the way I saw myself at all and every time I executed something towards another success, the schism in my brain that fought to see myself as successful grew wider.

On Tuesday of this week, my brain tore itself in half under the strain.

Thinking Through my History

As I explored the resources that I had been provided with by Luke and continued my own personal Tao exploration (including the excellent and Life-changing book, The Tao of Inner Peace, by Diane Dreher), something else horrific came up.

Where to start ... My father was (and still is) a loving and hard-working man who raised 4 kids who themselves went on to meaningful careers. He was magic. Everything he touched was always the highest quality and every problem he solved seemed to be amazing to everyone. He also solved problems on his own, never needing the help of anyone. He didn't push his level of perfectionism on us kids but we absorbed it through observation. 

The lesson: We solve our own problems and persevere as long as it takes to get things done. No matter what.

My mother was (and still is) a loving and nurturing woman who, in her younger years, had an occasional outburst of anger that could pierce the heart of a young child. I don't blame her at all. How she and my father kept things moving for all of us on the small salary he earned in the 1970s still escapes me.

My childhood was complicated. I was bullied from Grade 1 right up through my Senior Year in High School. 

In elementary school, it was Cliff, someone who finally some years ago got his Life together but was killed in a tragic highway accident. Barry replaced him in Junior High, hunting me ruthlessly and relentlessly before and after school and during recess and lunch. In High School, I had an ever-capable group of damaged young men who would hold me on the floor and mock rape me every week in the locker room before gym class. 

I have spoken to a number of them over the years since High School but none of them have ever brought it up or apologized for it. Paul, Randy, Stewart, Steve, Tony and others likely forgot or never cared to know the impact on me. While I thought I had moved past it, the fact that it came up so strongly this week told me that I hadn't moved passed it. The upside was that I often hid from them in the library, greatly expanding my reading repertoire.

I never told anyone back then. As the smallest kid in the class, I was terrified of my bullies and I was ashamed of what they were doing to me. 

Speaking to some of my friends in the years since, I have discovered that I wasn't the only victim of these miscreants.

And not to leave anyone out, Jeff M. who, while asking me to deliver newspapers with him when I was 7, took me a LONG way from the paper route and offered me a nickel if I would let him show me what a "screw" was. He was insistent. I fled.

And then there was the stranger who thought it was a clever idea to share his stiff penis with me on the day of my First Holy Communion while inviting me to touch and kiss it. I fled again, much to his disappointment. So much for God.

The Stage Was Set

So, as I left High School, the stage had been set. My sense of self had been pummeled to zero as I set off to launch a career.

In my early Computer Science years, I was blessed. I had a natural gift for technology and mathematics in the 1980s and I had a strong memory that was later tested and identified to be near-hyperthymesiac.  This means that I have a VERY strong autobiographical recall of events including the senses associated with the memories, a gift that continues to this day. It is a mixed blessing.

These blessings gave me a fast track to success. I architected the first PC-based insurance system in Canada in the early 80s at the age of 17. Success in the technology industry came quickly and easily and soon my career took me from Newfoundland to New York City via Toronto, Montreal and Ottawa.

But I had a problem. I had a ticking time bomb inside me.

I had been convinced through my early years that I wasn't worthy of anything and that anything I did did not measure up to anyone's standards.

And yet, here I am, generating success easily and without effort, oftentimes generating many multiples of quality over my peers because it seemed the right thing to do. Meanwhile, half of my brain kept yelling, "It is impossible to be creating this success."

But I was running 100-meter dashes and not marathons and so I never took the time to slow down to listen to the argument going on inside my brain.

This was my modus operandi through my years of building companies, helping other people build companies and serving others.

The schism in my brain from imposter syndrome, what I was producing vs. what I thought I should have been capable of producing (extraordinarily little), grew. 

But my resilience, taught to me by my parents and strengthened (I thought) by surviving the events of my childhood, never allowed me to feel that anything was wrong and I continued to be productive for decades.

But We Have Limits

Fast forward to this week.

I had noticed that my performance had started to lag in recent weeks. 

My concentration for solving problems wasn't as sharp. 

I'm an avid reader and suddenly I couldn't read at all. 

I was experiencing some chronic fatigue but just assumed it was the workload. 

I was having trouble getting through my routine of the day but I blamed it on the fatigue. 

Everything had a good reason as far as I was concerned and I somehow knew it would pass.

And then came the concern over my white blood cell count and I was nervous about it, reflecting on my last dance with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I played it down with people I knew but I was afraid. 

I'm a man - I can deal with it if I need to.

I moved closer to the edge but didn't know it.

The hematuria didn't help (blood in the urine).

Coughing up blood was also a little problematic but I was sure it had an explanation.

And then came a few personal relationship explosions.

And I teetered on the edge of a precipice but didn't realize how close I was.

Again, I'm a man. Pre-GPS, we men rarely asked for driving directions until we were forced to. 

When I was sick in March of 1996, I had had symptoms for over a year before finally going to a doctor and being scolded, "if only you had come in earlier". I only went in because my lymph nodes were so swollen that I couldn't walk properly.

The powder keg sat, primed for ignition. I had some routine stuff to take care of for my family. Small, innocuous things. Routine things that were so passé that they didn't even appear on my calendar. 

Suddenly, the fuse of the powder keg was lit. I don't even know what the specific trigger was that lit it.

When it detonated, my brain, long the gift that I thanked God for, shredded. And minutes later, I was speaking to Luke. 

The man I was, who had carried or served thousands of people over the years and who had always put everyone else first had unplugged and I couldn't have jump started my brain if I had run 10 million volts through my head.

And equally alarming to me, I didn't care.

And Now the Real Journey Begins

As a man, I thought I was doing all the right things:

• Leading stoically.
• Pushing through adversity because that's what men do.
• Absorbing difficulty in silence because only weak men signal that they are in trouble.
• Solving my own problems since real men believe that if you want it done right, you do it yourself.
• Never checking in with myself because I didn't have time.
• Serving others before taking care of myself, forgetting that there is NEVER an end to the list of people who need help or who will use me for their own needs.
• Ignoring warning signs since they can always be addressed later.
• Defining Life success using my career and results as the gauge, in defiance of what I should have been learning from the copious texts that I was reading.
• Never asking for help because real men don't do that anyway.

In fact, I wasn't doing anything properly and not only did I suffer, I inadvertently created suffering in others around me. Some would be kind and say that's not the case. Some wouldn't be so kind. My only ask is to be gentle with me. Even we big, tough, successful (by someone's definition) guys who have it all together may not have it all together.

According to my great friend, Leonard (an amazing therapist and author - I mention one of his books further down), I had accumulated a lot of difficult thoughts (especially from work) without processing them. With the right trigger, my brain reacted as if a dam had burst (hence the term 'emotional flooding') and my brain was overloaded trying to process years of difficult things all at once, mentally and emotionally paralyzing me.

Sure, I've got some physical health issues to deal with and I will deal with them but the mental health issues to me seem more insidious, being invisible as they are and often seemingly not dangerous until it's too late.

If you're a father, reach out to your kids and ask them how they are doing.

If you're a brother, call your siblings and ask them if they need help.

If your parents or grandparents are still with you, reach out to them more often to see if they need anything. 

Sometimes your time is enough.

Reach out to a friend to say hi. They might be desperately waiting to hear from anyone.

And while depression and other things can overrun men and women, I can only speak from the context of a man.

If you're a man and you haven't gotten over your manliness, your so-called strength, your sense of self that doesn't need help and all of that bullshit that we as men have been told defines us, I would beg you to pause and reflect. I know I have a lot of work to do and while I've told people for years to "put their mask on first", I forgot to put mine on at all. That changes moving forward.

Find resources that help you, like Diane's book that I mentioned earlier. 

Read great books like Leonard Szymczak's book Power Tools for Men: A Blueprint for Healthy Masculinity. Join a men's support group.

Find someone to talk to.  Someone who will listen without judging. Call me if you have to.

Call anyone.

Otherwise, you might be catching a bus and you will be denying the world of the great man that you are and the great value that you bring to the world.

And if you are already on the journey to healing, please reach out to those who might be struggling.

We are all on this journey together.

With love,

Harry

---

This is part 1 of a series where I share my journey towards stronger mental health after deciding that I didn't want to live any more.

The entire series can be found here:

• The Wrong Way to Catch a Bus
• Life: Choices and Possibilities
• Life: Self-Reliance and Courage
• Life: Forgiveness
• Life: Creating Space
• Life: A Question of Free Will
• Life: Who Will Bell the Cat?
• Life: The Significance of the Insignificant

There is a power that comes from sharing difficult things.

We live, love, lift and learn together.