addiction, Uncategorized

ONE YEAR RESTING

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It has now been a little over a year since my last drug use. I share no pride nor surprise about this news, it just is what it is. It came about in a dramatic ending in a masterful collaboration between the forces that be and me. I attracted the situation that led to an overdose and the rest is history. I have never had a serious desire to step back into the meth death pool to date.

Addiction, a word I have never cared to use, and respectfully encourage limited use of with others. “Addiction”not my issue, my theories surrounding addiction continue to be supported time and time again. Addiction is not the root of the “problem” it is the result of an inner issue, a deeper issue, not the cause. I’d like to take a moment at this time to encourage anyone who is working on “addiction” issues. If comfortable, to let go of terms such as disease, addiction, or defective along with a few others used in traditional 12 step program (not a dis). And for a few moments refocus on some positive concepts.

First I would like to state there are no defective human beings. Many of us have been exposed to some tough experiences in our younger years, have had learning issues, specifically on the autism spectrum or started using in our teens or twenties. In some cases we may have experienced or witnessed a trauma of some sort or experienced great loss.

The majority of heavy substance use or other acting out behavior. Is in fact based not so much on “addiction” rather as behavior patterns. An inside reaction to an outside occurrence, love yourself enough to care correctly for yourself. LISTEN TO YOUR GUT!

No one in my eyes can get healthy from any situation in life based on being told they are defective. Or told daily that they are an addict and always will be. This is like trying to go to school to get an education and being told you are stupid everyday.

This of course is only my opinion based on my amazing little journey in life. But I have seen a lot of shit, I have been to hell and back a few times. I believe we are all good people, we are simply learning, living, healing and being. I believe that love is what heals, there are many methods of support, there are many ways to heal and move forward. If you can’t find a way, make one up, it worked for me.  I have found that many people have very good intentions based on the intentions of those before them. But it does not mean that they have a clue to what you are going through.

Find your quiet space in your heart, let it guide you to the right place should you need outside guidance, help or even medical.

If  you are insanely over the edge as I once was, hang in there, remain open, trusting and honest. Meth is tricky, and it messes with your head, if you are still in the messy zone you have to trust another until you have clarity… enough said. I leave my words resting here.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

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guncontrol, orlando, Peace, Uncategorized

MOW-MY ONLY WISH

MOW
Music: The Journey
By: Elliot Goldenthal
From: Frida Soundtrack

PT 1: DEATH AND RESPECT
chicago vigil for the orlando massacre
PT 2: PASSAGES THROUGH DARKNESS
mourning & contemplation
PT3: FUTURE LIFE
rebirth, hope, love, light “one tribe”

A TEMPORRAY FEELING:
I am a simple man, pale in palettes of formal education and training, often I stumble for words and my technique can be on the primitive. At the time of this writing, my tone is overshadowed by casualties, bullets and hate.

The original direction of this piece was intended as a video offering only. Created to honor the victims of the Orlando massacre that had taken place on the evening of June 12, 2016. As words wrestled within my head for voice and release, I eventually concluded I had no other choice than to set them free. Allowing them to roam as they may as co-creators for peace in flux’s of love and rage.

Many of us feel wounded, as we attempt to make sense of this deeply dark fundamental wrong that has riveted near and through innocent young bodies. We may not know how to label, understand, or harness our own emotions during these times, this is only natural. Keep in mind many are sharing these same experience and we must gently strive to be sensitive, restorative, loving and aware of each others human condition. Take pride in your sensitivities, take pride in your awareness, take pride in your ability to be a peacekeeper. These are actions of love, actions we take for the living and in honor of those who have gone.

The effects of mass trauma and emotional unrest belong to no specific age, gender, race, or tribe. As creatures of this earth we are all connected, the energy that can flourish from an intense tragedy is often manifested in emotional or an energetic density. Although this energy is not visible to everyone, it is thick enough on a sensory level that most can feel it. Think “bad or heavy-vibes.” In times especially like these again I stress the importance of being patient, kind and loving in all of our actions. Be aware of misplaced feelings within yourself as well as your peers. Post tragedy or trauma is often a time when people “act out” in ways they normally may not.

Many of these “heavy vibe” or “static emotion” energies you may sense around you have been sparked by the Orlando 49 tragedy. Along with the countless other “casualties” of gun violence who have met their fate without choice, without prayer and assuredly with little or no voice. These absurd situational moments of continual repeat seem anything but casual to me.

I made this video specifically to honor the lives lost during the “O/49” massacre on the day I ironically began my 53rd year of living. Intended as an energy transfer, less self more light. It only seemed to have backfired, pricking a temporary fury. Fractionally due to an outbreak of local violence. One day following the final video edit, here in this normally quite cluster of blocks where I reside. In what I often refer to as the Park of Oaks, a full on police shut down was enforced as yet more shootings echoed from corner to expressway. I asked the empty air and blue sky above, why and when will these reckless shootings end? In Chicago firearm violence continues to exceed expectations. I ask again asked the same questions of my God, Angels and Guides…TELL ME WHEN WILL IT END, this self dismemberment of society, when will it end?!?

Oh these middle ages of mine, toss me increasingly into fits of anger. My spiritual roots once more lapse into a dry black upheaval. My philosophies appear to be nothing more than smoke, mirrors and several hanks of question marks. Robe of light that cloaks my soul I toss you once more into my surrender fire. Drenched in the collective blood of my sisters and brothers. In hope of spiritual cure and lift. I/we must remain lustful for hope – I have begun to question this “hope” that has always saved me from depths of black. To question hope is a dangerous space for anyone to believe in, a frightful place, not made for the weak of spirit or mind. Those with a vacant conscious or the yearling of new souls. will find existing with questionable or no hope difficult to seed, flourish or be at peace in.

FROM WHERE I SIT:
Shredded tween vacant legs, and scattered head. I look down upon my trembling heart begging for attention, not rejection. I see a golden spear of light that spikes bright. Ignored by choice, I just can’t, I no longer can trust my heart speak. (I correct myself) I can, it is more that I fear trusting my heart in this moment earthly chaos. I have begun to cave, this global static is to much for sensitive digestion. My nerves have been numbed by my own routine life let alone the mounting bullets and gravestones.

I stare at my pulsing muscle of life as it gleams like gristle covered in fresh spit and one last tear. Burnt by front page news it murmurs in sorrowed tones while sucking dust off cool grass neath my feet. As I sit in my beloved Columbus Park. In a moment of quite earth solace and distorted “head space” meditation. My eyes are unable to blink, in poor posture, I wilt forward with my willow branched back. Heavy, with weight and query I continue to count the wasting hours, I loose track of minutes and light. Immobile, from where I sit, I wonder have I really given up on listening to my higher self. My higher self that dwells soft light and patient within, above, around and whithin all things. As my ignored heart continues to beg for ear and understanding. I insist that it only speaks a language of my lost “GODS” translation. You see, I have allowed my natural human experience of anger and doubt to temporarily clutter my interpretations of light and clarity. This to shall pass as they say, I sometimes dislike these slogans but … TTSP.

THE “H” WORD:
Hate is a feeling my source-self does not understand, not in any true sense of the word. Even with the acts of extreme violence used against and within my own flesh I have never come to a point of true gut “hate” towards those 11 men. Anger… YES, Rage… YES, Hate NO. Absolutely never a desire to act out in any criminal, spiritual, physical or humanly unjust way. I do not understand this craving to dismantle a human life. Or to disfigure the natural flow and progression of another persons experience with intent. I understand we all have an effect on each-other, this is part of the beautiful rhythm of our existence, this is why we are here. For us abruptly reroute or dismember a persons path is unthinkable either by weapon or word.

PAPER TEARS:
Tired eye’s flutter shut like pages from a book of required tween-age reading. After rest I pull up a photograph of a man crying on my phone. I, myself have exhausted almost all functions of ducts and flow. I now have become one of “them”… I have become emotionless. You know the type of man, he who shrugs his shoulders as evening news plays repeat of stories of death, wrecks, war or natural disasters. No! I refuse to be saturated with the essence of this particular breed of social disorder or personal conduct. I now liberate myself from my temporary diseased moment of void. A natural reaction to completely toxic situation induced by demon and man.

I am in shock, just as I had been as the twin towers crumbled down creating ash coated zombies. Dazed and mentally distorted as they shuffled empty eyed with pumps and wing tips in hand. One by one they passed my shop of employment as I and others much younger stood, stunned and vacant. I remember that September morning at the corner of Broadway and Houston as if it where this very second. It is the same echoed feeling that resonates when I shed denial once more entering into the throne room of remembrance of friends. Transcending in masses of static flashes from life to death. Zapping, up and out endless and fast. Some called it an epidemic, some called it a collective spiritual rise, I still do not don’t know what to call it.

That’s it! I now can excuse my moment of emotional vacancy, I am human that is all. Whatever it is, my need to fix thing’s once again begins to kick in and I cut a paper tear from one of my many journals. With a dab will do ‘ya of saliva, I place the paper tear beneath my right eye. Still numb, I bark out loud in self anger, “THIS IS ALL BULLSHIT!” and just as quickly pull the tear from my eye and release it to the elements. Looking back I laugh recalling the words “THIS SHIT IS ALL THEATER.” Speaking of my production of one. Maybe it is the essence of my emotions that are only worthy of reflection. Not the actions although I must admit enjoy the dark humor of it all.

I continued to sit in silence, self indulged almost void of self awareness. Between breaths, I vacillated between surrender, understanding, and feeling boggled by the madness of these senseless killings. I can’t release the reminders of 9/11, war, hate and long list of other tragedies dating far back as the early 60’s. The ash zombie faces of 9/11 and the O/49 are the ones I can’t shake from my mind. My rage ignites when I think of this need to constantly defend the use of guns and weapons. Oh my beautiful dutiful right, no thank you, your right is my wrong.

Stuck, I could not moderate the electric tremble of questions dodge balling my mind… Am I in a state of shock? Is this some sort of emotional overload? Am I in mourning? Is this a self pity? Am I exhausted? Over saturated by media, everything in my life/our lives? has the world gone insane? Or have I finally crossed “that” fine line, into emotional decline? Have I finally gone from being a sensitive to desensitized?

I suppose there is a global numbness that is effecting us all to some extent. Perhaps it has spliced my spirit between truth and fear, night and light. My Only Wish no matter what the case may be, as I move the “me” that is part of the universal “we” off to the side. Is LOVE, Love is all I wish for – love, we all posses it, we all desire it, we are all capable of giving and receiving it. There are no fees, no taxes, no requirements. My Only Wish – MAY THERE BE EQUAL AND ABUNDANT LOVE FOR ALL. 

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

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Images, Selfportraits

EXPERIENCE of LIGHT

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ROCKETS & NESTS 4J *soft/complicated, mixed media

Thursday mornings tend to be my standard errand day, also a day when my mind and eye are most engaged with the world around me. I am 100% in love all things at the same time inspired by everything, it is almost to much to handle and nearly impossible to get anything accomplished. Between photo snaps, note breaks and formal writing stops I am lucky if I hit the market, library or dry cleaners at all.

My mid week enthusiasm may be in part due to my minimal excursions from block number 11 where I reside. Back home in New York, I walked everywhere most days, never to tire always inspired. I breathed a carnival of sensory happiness, often coming home only to spin back out for a deeper emersion. Since my return to the mid-coast of Chicago in autumn of 2013 I have become somewhat of a recluse. Thursdays are my great adventure day, where backyard tree-houses and front yard detail strike a temporary fascination streak, at times it is enough to fire up enough artistic and spiritual fuel to feed my creative need for another week.

Now that I am in my middle years, I am fascinated with the organic curves, knots, and often wicked grace of trees. Cloud formations always impress, dressed and set with back drop skies of shifting seasonal shades mystify. All of mother earths creatures, plant life, water and air retain my interest unlike dismissal of younger years. For the time being my alter of appreciation falls upon suburban lawns rather than the magnificent parks and gritty squares of the island of Manhattan where I belong. A place where structures, graffiti, art, pedestrians, clatter, filth hold me strong.

MORNING THOUGHT:
I had a funny idea one Thursday morning, as I often do. Story board visions ran through my head as I saw myself “ghosting” in the after life. Not “trapped” and suffering as in a Learning Channel ghost hunter hype series. You know, all miserable… moan, moan thud. Just the opposite, very happy, and madly in love with this globe and it’s living occupants. I, dead without regret, refusing to leave this bubbled existence without assistance from an invisible supernatural ejector seat.

From the great unknown my almighty light keepers where summoning me, like a collective of spiritual mothers with a toddler at meal time, gentle and prodding. Coaxing with sensitive yet firm vibrational ease, the messages that pulsed may be impossible to describe here. The general transmission delivered was the usual. “The time has arrived for you to ascend to new dimensions, unimagined in any book, meditation or vision within your understandings, a greater purpose is part of your spiritual evolution now, your earth journey has been completed. The time has come to leave…” None of this was spoken in global tongues, all by sensation, heat and other understanding, many of you know what I am talking about. Stubborn, as I often can be, I am prone to get in my own human way. Naturally I insisted on staying right where I was, in some strange suburban yard up a tree translucent to most determined to haunt on my own terms.

My morning, inspiration hit as my feet stepped and my mind wandered back. I remembered how I have always been fascinated by cultures, sociology, interactions between groups of all people, individual behavior, the human experience. As I passed each home between the hours of 10a.m. and noon I envisioned the expansion of life within these cabinets of brick, wood, and stone. Each home called out with it’s own language. The exterior structure and grounds sang descriptive tales of it’s cultures, families, individuals, lifestyles and critters. I became intrigued by the care and lack of that each dwelling reflected.

That is when it struck me, I want to shadow and haunt when I exit the realm of the living. Not an individual home, rather entire neighborhoods. Fluttering about while watching in silent bliss, hovering while people garden and built those humble tree-houses, perform mundane task like cleaning garages, taking out the trash or repainting shutters on luxury 3 day weekends. Oversee grounds like a mystical landscape architect with a quarter of a mile view, as trees bow in winter and spring forth in mid months of warmth.

As I stood under a great Oak Tree on the corners of Lombard and Madison Streets, with eyes shut, feet planted on cool cement and lungs filled with fresh damp air. I felt with every vessel in my heart that I wanted to experience a little bit of every life. To me this is not haunting at all, this is loving in a different dimension and nothing could be more life affirming. This is loving in the ultimate parental form, the greatest honor, not to die for ones country but to live for ones world.

To experience without the confines of human timelines, health or worry. To watch as each bud burst forth in spring from plant and tree. To bare witness to the birth of new borns, be present with birds eye view as drops of rain cascade down blades of grass during an August sun-shower. Offer comfort during moments of human duress and celebration, to whole heartedly be apart of these experiences, to learn love and wrap one in light. I don’t understand why these feelings struck me so strong or lingered as they do. Perhaps I should nurture them while I am  among the living, maybe that is all this experience of thought has been about. Funny how the mind works as we click keys and write, hammering out the spiritual subconscious through key strokes is another form of the language of light..

Ah! It just hit me wrapped up this page, should you believe as I do, this to some degree is what our Angels and Protectors experience. How wonderfully awesome this is not a story about ghosting at all, it is a story about living.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

 

 

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Images, Peace, Selfportraits

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Wishing everyone SAFE-TRUST-LOVE layered with an abundance of good fortune. My seasonal wish is for all to continue to embrace their own personal understanding of truth and limitless possibilities of life discovery.

May all of us love uncontrollably, as we fuse the seams of 2015 with 2016. Casting away the salvage scraps of 12 months past. Always a new horizon, always a new frontier-Sweet Luscious Cheers!

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt

Fuseing the Seams

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Uncategorized
Not What You Think

Not What You Think

Fall to fall, this has been a year of slow growing life progressions. Actually that is rather dismissive, the growth has been abundant and I am grateful for that. A year ago I was very much locked into a place of dark isolation. This mornings shower caught me of guard reflecting on a wonderful job I began last October. I had been unable to maintain it for many of the crippling situations named in the article below. It took a hell of a lot of work, love, and spirit human and other to move me to where I am today. The artwork above as always is original the following has been borrowed from the American Academy of Experts in Traumatic Stress. Definitely much more work to do, this has been a tricky ride. Knowledge is power.

This is part of my revisitation and recommitment to my original mission. To help another now that I find myself walking upright with a mind body and soul once more capable.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt – lil Big R

Dealing with the after effects of rape is a nightmare. The physical hurts can often soon be mended, but it’s the inner pain that people can’t see that takes longest. It’s also the hardest to deal with because it’s not like healing after surgery, there is no set time limit. The emotional scars can stay with us a lifetime.

What is PTSD?

PTSD is a reaction to being exposed to an event which is outside the range of normal human experience. Sometimes it is referred to as post traumatic rape syndrome too. It is a normal human emotional reaction to an abnormal situation. Everyone reacts differently to different situations and it doesn’t have to be a life threatening experience for someone to respond in this way. It just has to be perceived by the victim as a traumatic event. It is a psychological phenomenon. It is an emotional condition, from which it is possible to make a full and complete recovery.

PTSD affects hundreds of thousands of people who have been exposed to violent events such as rape, domestic violence, child abuse, war, accidents, natural disasters and political torture. It is normal to be affected by trauma. There is help, and it is ok to ask for help. PTSD is not rare. It is not unusual. It is not weak to have PTSD.

Traumatic experiences bring to the fore survival skills which are valuable and useful at the time of the trauma, but which usually become less valuable, less useful and less effective with time. Sometimes survivors become stuck in problem behaviors when their pain is not acknowledged, heard, respected, or understood. Denial plays a great part here (it didn’t happen, or it shouldn’t affect you). Put-downs, dismissal of the pain, mis-diagnosis and other forms of secondary wounding keep survivors stuck.

Symptoms may come on soon after the trauma or fifty years later. That is what is meant by the post in PTSD. It is normal too for symptoms to come up again when faced by further trauma and in very stressful times. It is normal to be affected by trauma.

Society has it’s own way of dealing with trauma which can both be belittling or denying. For a survivor to be told that what happened to them wasn’t that bad, or was no big deal or continually being told it was time that they were over it, or just try and forget it ever happened cause secondary wounding in trauma survivors. It reinforces the mistrust of everyone and everything that trauma evokes in all survivors who no longer can believe that the universe is fair or just.

This ability to do whatever it takes to survive is instinctive. We all have it, and in traumatic enough situations, it will come out or we die. Extreme situations which trigger this reaction again and again may cause survivors to do things in order to survive which can be hard to look back on later.

Similarly shutting down feelings in order to do whatever it takes to survive, or do your job and help others survive, is a reality based survival skill. Numbness is the answer. It is effective. It will help you live.

Unfortunately when survivors numb their fear, despair and anger, all their feelings, even good ones, are numbed. Numbness is comfortable. Thinking about what they have been through is so painful survivors wind up avoiding thinking about, feeling, or doing anything that reminds them of the trauma. For example, if they feel the trauma was their fault they may spend the rest of their life having to be right so they won’t ever be at fault again. If they were happy when the trauma hit, they may avoid happiness forever.

Criteria for diagnosis of PTSD Continue reading

REVISITING THE MISSION

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Uncategorized
SAFE TRUST LOVE

SAFE TRUST LOVE

At the end of the day this is all that matters to me. Do I feel safe, do I have trust in my source, myself and those around me. Am I a trustworthy and reliable person and is love the frequency I am operating on. Do I love myself, am I willing to love myself enough that I allow genuine love into my life. And just as importantly am I allowing genuine love to flow from me to others.

SAFE-TRUST-LOVE is not some static uptight higher principle way of living for me. It is loaded with all sorts of swings, kinks, good times and twisted low down humor.

Somedays, like today I have my freak-outs over the direction/non-direction of my life. I stop and realize that everything is ok and I once again I have jumped into a cesspool of doubts. This is when fear and sabotage begin to dance around me, until I put situations back into perspective. I ask myself how do I feel, how do I want to feel and do I trust my feelings. I know all of the answers, I sit with them and before I know it, the rattling loose ends of my jittering worries are mended. It’s a universal “dude chill the f@#k out” kind of thing that takes place. I have a sort of pow-wow with my Guides, Angels and God yes – I GAG. And I move forward with the mind and spirit of a rational person once more. No longer fueled by anxiety, I am focused on the reality of positive truths that are actually happening.

I tend to forget that I only need to be focused on two things. Taking action and the end result. I know I will be guided with all things between. Resulting in the best and swiftest outcome based on all my intentions. This has been proven to me over and over again. I often misplace this concept from that time is time. When all is said and done and I reflect back I always think out loud the same words. Why did you blow that stress-ball again? Everything worked out fine, what a corrupted blast of energy that was. Trust is a must, love above all else and I know the results will find me safe.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt – lil Big R

SAFE – TRUST – LOVE

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