MEETING CLARITY

In time comes clarity, jumbling, stumbling, bumbling through every sensory awakening soft bright and abrupt. Oh this thing called clarity, I foolishly thought I had met you, 10,000 clones before. Nothing could prepare me for this present interpretation and layered manipulation. You are almost to much for me to bear, yet I stand before you with weighted feet. It has been co-decided that I am ready to face you. Now I am awake, I have been prepared for what I am willing to face. Lets move forward, lets get on with this-

Like a child learning to crawl or gurgling words for the very first time, so is this fresh awkward revival of  perspective. The human mind is the kindest of all tools within this filtering machine, this contraption of flesh. With the passing of time and shedding of outer escapes the emergence of memories have brought my past to present on regular rotations. Details spared for the faint of heart-

The terror is quite real, although hallucinatory, some call it a flashback. I call them living theater of the dark and deadly. I am ready to finally face these memories, I thought I already had many times over and over again. They now appear upon my daily walks, I understand this is not unusual, they are far to real. My breathing halts, with hands restrained, sweat begins, sensory blood drips, and the choking is consistent, boom black out. Before I know it, books and phone drop to side-walk for 5 to 10 until I can escape. With jaw dropped open vacant empty screams hover over flaccid lips. I pull it together once more and enter the realm of the real, and continue my stroll. I remind myself that this is a temporary normal, this is what has finally come to the surface. Perhaps drugs where not such a bad thing, maybe denial and madness saves lives. But you can not move forward with a life of denial, my core self is a survivor, enough said

I have chosen to face this at all cost, I have chosen to ride this out. I have decided that I am ready to once and for all face the UGLY of it all. Even what I have yet to remember of that night in November 2011. I am not stopping until this is done. I will never be able to help myself or another human being if I do not take care of this. I grateful that this experience is coming to a head. For all of those who may be working through trauma, I know it is a tough challenge. I am also confident deep in my heart that it is worth it, truly these experiences allow us to enrich our personal human condition. This is our classroom for living, when the moment is right, when our personal light is re-lit we are able to understand and carry on for another. That’s what this journey is about…

Love and Light
The Empowered Runt

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On Monday, July 27th 2015, I experienced my first and last methamphetamine drug overdose. The result of a dinner date gone wrong, or right depending on your perspective. This reflective snippet flows outward following a month of vibrant spiritual experiences. I suppose it is true, you have to die to see the light. I came close enough and now all feels right.

On July 23rd I put out a request, or as they say an intention, to the Universe-my God-my Source. A request to deliver a speed round of events (no pun intended) of life lessons. A sort of “lets get the show on the road” kind of thing. To finally wrap up this dragging chapter of trauma and addiction. The time had come to move on with living, teaching and enjoying this awesome life.

I seem to cycle on the magic number of three, I don’t know why I just do. Three days later, on July 27th the Universe delivered in full force. With a dinner date, admittedly somewhere within my subconscious I had some questions marks floating around it. In all sober truth I knew there was a possibility of a “slam bam” time (using drugs).

I fooled myself, after all this was a date with a prominent psychiatrist. A man well known and successful, what could possibly go wrong? We both where attracted to each other for being decent guys. Supposedly neither of us where “game players.” Just two real men who found each other “trustworthy” “refreshing” and all of that. Well enough of the denial fantasy talk-lol

Instead of Pork Chops and romance I had been left for dead. Soon to reside at the Weiss Memorial ICU for the next four days. And so my spiritual catapult began, as always I never regret any moment of my journey!

Certainly I had to wrap my head around knowing my mom at the age of 82 had to see her son for the first and only time in the ICU. Wired to life saving contraptions, heart leaping from chest muscles and mind literally being eaten away by chemicals. I was beyond completely freaked the fucked out on drugs-insanity.

We had not spoken since December, I can’t imagine a reunion much more dramatic or painful. Than to receive a call that your 52 year old child is possibly going to die from an overdose, please come immediately. Fortunately she really does not understand what meth is all about. Denial and lack of knowledge can be marvelous copping tools. Along with the calming effects of my loving younger brother supporting her on the scene.

This would be the one moment I wish I could alter out of everything. To erase a my mothers grievous moment of pain, fear and sorrow. Although if not for this relatively short exchange of pain.Our relationship that has been in constant strain would not have mended as it has. Years of generational scars have evaporated within in weeks. Funny how tragedy heals suddenly you realize how silly so many things are in life. And love is love and the rest really doesn’t matter.

NOW ONTO THE POST OVERDOSE REFLECTION: I Am Safe

The door to who I am opened and I surrendered, I let go. It felt so right to finally let it all out. 
The door remains open, now I know all that I ever need is already here. Lastly I understand the undiluted meaning of trust. I am free, I have let go of fear and I have let go of all assumed debts to my spiritual self.

From childhood to now, all illusions of suffering, self forgiveness, guilt, and judgment have been dissolved. My extensive list of self critiques has been released. My mass collection of “whatever’s” from others, the list of ancient artifacts gathered over the years. Have not been forgotten, its as if they never existed. Boom back to birth, I am free no worries. I take comfort in knowing I am ok designed exactly as I am, with all the talents and attributes that I have been given. Every worry, all bullshit, all self editing has been lifted.

In pure God Speed style, I have liberated my need for acceptance and rejection. Never had I a thing to prove, never a thing to loose. On occasion I had been told this, but how could it be true? Not until reconciled could I let go, now I have no restrictions and no rules, life is so fucking cool. My core is my compass as it always has been.

At last peace, calm and serenity comfort me, I now know I am abundantly safe. That I am loved, I am perfect just as I am, just as we all are. I let go of all anger and doubt, along with everything I have ever been taught. Embracing everything I intuitively known, returning to original intelligence and instincts the same I have had since before I could crawl. Isn’t life funny, really it just cracks me up sometimes-peace.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

SAFE

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LIFE IS FUCKING COOL
With mornings sunrise edging up and over woodlands and neighboring rooftops. My spirt contemplates the most important decision to be made that day. Shall I rise to continue on this journey. Am I willing to fulfill my daily commitments to self and the world that surrounds. Will I venture deeper within to explore, accept and celebrate my personal truths? Soon my ever enduring vessel consisting of flesh, other matter and illusion responds with a resounding YES!

My morning head still foggy, rest cradled in a nest of down, cotton and twill. Tossing in a slow time-lapse motion. While twitches, of five a.m. lazy limbs wake my slowly emerging torso rolling from side to side. Legs, linger over mattress cliffs. As energy drifts guiding my feet safely towards destination floor.

I sigh, with calm excitement knowing morning rituals may now begin. As I kneel facing east, I gently kiss three times the lacquered slats of oak beneath my knees.

I bless the twenty-four before me with sincerity of heart. I am filled with deep appreciation for all gifts future, past and present. At peace, I visualize my truth du jour while reciting my rotating mantras. Prayers for the deceased are spoken and meditations begin. I fill myself unforcefully full with my creative and spiritual nutrients. Whatever the concoction may be that day. That is the fuel that will see me through.

Finally as my Bustello, my “holy water” blesses my inner tube-ways. I am focused, fresh, with a heart revitalized, gently jacked with empathy, compassion and my personal commitments at hand. I begin as I ended the evening prior. Plugged into my “Source” and understanding my truth. Having made the decisions to be empowered and embracing my freedom of voice. I exhale mindfully slow, embarking on a new untrodden day.

This all must seem like a lot of work to some, understandably so. “Why not a simple shower and a back door blast” you may ask.  Certain life events create a more complicated start. For some it is having a baby, or a heart attack others it is a bit more complex. The cool thing is you develop habits that are healthy. They linger as long as long as you decided they should last.

The above and a dash more if needed is worth it, I am worth it. Anyone who has experienced any trauma or addiction is worth it. For four years I could not walk down the street, get on the subway, go to work. Leave my home without my meth med injection to make life palatable that was the only way. I was completely afraid of being attacked. Old story-sorry for the repeat, but it was due to an intense gang rape.

Fortunately for me and inconvenient for some of those around me. I have moved through much of my rape crisis and the aftermath. Now I am working on setting that story aside, always with eyes open wide.

Not that long ago, November of twenty-fourteen my life began to re-evolve. I opened up to all that already exist within and around. With huge support from my dear friend and mentor Danielle (beautiful blessings). Slowly I have returned to my authentic “self”.

 These morning dedications have opened me to inner explorations and spiritual expansions. Some of these rituals I have been performing since the early 1980’s many more are new additions.

My heart had been begging for  a “truth-smack” up side my soul. A little wake up zap, to reboot my journey. I certainly had the choice to continue to live in fear. I had a choice to kill myself or to become a junkie hustler. All of those choices would be fine, I really doubt I would last long, I have a short fuse. So I listened to my core and yes it really sucked for a very long time and I am still recovering. But I fought and followed my inner voice and here I am. If on a daily basis I where not my own cheerleader, coach and best friend. By now would have literally reached my dead end.

Oh well, I learn the way I have chosen to learn. My view is I can only teach a lesson authentically, if I have lived the lesson I am teaching. I think that makes sense lol-have fun and thank you for reading.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

LIFE IS FUCKING COOL

MY INWOOD LOVE AUDIO/VISUAL FORMAT

In honor of Inwood, a neighborhood nestled at the northern tip of the Isle of Manhattan. It’s streets, sounds, rhythms, smells, and parks. Most of all to my humble shack, just four flights up and to the right. Number 4J at 204 Sherman Ave. This is where light, love, sex, trauma, addiction, joy, sorrow and so much more swirled delicate and thick. Turning this home into the hyper-spastic launch pad that allowed me to rip open my soul. Digging so deep into the gutter of my life it actually penetrated into past existences.

Finally brave enough to embrace, bash and dance with the muck and miracles of my past. All of them equally important to the development of my flesh, spirit and story in other words, this life of mine.

Eventually I finished that chapter of learning and now with my “damaged” self  on the mend. And a let’s get the show on the road attitude brewing. I finally had become ready to face the creation of this “visual therapy.” This is my final release, at last I am able to let go. Rather than breaking down, I lit up through this process. Now that is change, sweet ass mother clucking change.

I love every moment of every one of these experiences that flick through this “clip-o-tage”.  Dark or light, I never will insult my existence my wishing things had been different.  Perhaps I am fooling myself, but I still stand by my word I live with zero regrets. I am here, I share story, people respond this is living even when I fuck up I am growing-life rocks.

Yes, indeed every life matters, every minute, every word, every experience-they are who we are. Finally I can say I like who I am, better yet I like the people in the world around me because of who I have become. Again that is pretty fucking awesome!

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

WELCOME to THE LAND of WHAT IF’S

NOTE: Thank you for reading-this is the most gut fueled writing of mine to date. A gentle apology for the sporadic flow. I felt it was important to keep it this organic without edit from heart to hand.

The other morning I had awoken at four embedded in a frozen paralyzation. Once more I had found myself absorbed in a minefield full of “WHAT IF’s.” My return to this uncomfortable terrain came shortly after winning what may be the best career opportunity of my work history. Filled with bliss and positive energy, the moment had me shining with magnificence. Distracting all senses from the sub-current of possible failure hovering beneath the layers of my flesh. I am generally sensitive to these sneak attacks mapped out on old life storyboards. Delivered by saboteurs unknown to others yet intimate to me.

Before I knew it, a full shut down of my emotional and mental systems where in place. The “WHAT IF” failure alerts had already begun pumping through my body, sending all sorts of mis-shaped messages. These warped old thought patterns seeped in slowly at first. Micro bits of wrinkled logic entered my being as soon as the call came presenting the news that the position was mine. Yes, the old meth addict/trauma thinking crept in. Like a dark seducer deep in the night, whispering hypnotically low. You don’t deserve this, you won’t maintain this life for long, fuck it-come on now really, whats the use? I paused attempting to acknowledge for a moment that this was only bullshit inner dialogue. Sure enough the garbage chatter took over and I temporaraly bought into my own tabloid trash headline news.

No matter how often I concluded that the above concepts have been outmoded. The “WHAT IF’s” still appear at times to hold a high-ranking office within my head. And it feels as though I am have am living in a democracy, with no right to vote.  Like a good rebel these feelings don’t last long. Eventually I become fed up with voices, I developed a spiritual spine. A mind packed with clarity and my higher self begins to rise. I love a good inner civil war, we all have them and with perseverance our best self always wins!

Life events from parental pre-insertion on formed who I am today. The events that erupted around me approximately four and half years ago had a heavily impacted my growth. Both consciously and sub, I have been conditioned through word, man and fuel. The meseeges I recived where-Robbie, you have never or will again be capable of courting good fortune or experiencing regular intervals of joy, love or success. I know this is rubbish talk, the “WHAT IF’s” and associated “FEAR” talks are not reality, they are artificial truths. They should not to be ignored or dismissed but looked at, loved, reveled and healed. Other words before they harm disarm.

While in the midst my recent self esteem dishevelment. The days and nights that followed, my fears had gained momentum. The truth is I have not been able to maintain a steady job until I released the last emotional hemorrhage of rape. I experienced rotating life freezes, which I now consider quite boring. My addiction savagely fed off my trauma. Intense trauma flashbacks also prevented me from career, romance and life advancements. My inner light dimmed, side-tracking me from illuminated thought. Even during a healthy adjustment period as I moved above and through addiction/trauma (done did done). It took time for my universal mind to gently flicker back to bright. During the dim moments I was filled with all sorts of illusional/delusional dialogue now nudged aside. I will ignore the list of endless self sabotage discussions and what if’s… you’re not good enough’s etc’s. Trust me the list can go on for weeks. For those in the know I’m sure you are all nodding with a great big chorus of OH YA’s.

SCREW THE CRUDDY THINKING:
Never will I go back to living in that hell ever again. Nope never again, never ever again-GOD NEVER AGAIN! Screw the old “WHAT IF’s” I simply do not have the room, time or interest for all that wasted energy. How about WHAT IF I DO HAVE all of those wonderful things like success, love, career, joy? WHAT IF I choose  to share all this AMAZING stuff? Now that is an epically great WHAT IF, stay on track and continue to change your story. This is living, this is life!

I have already moved mountains, harnessing the strength of a thousand lifetimes. I realize I am fiercely strong and most know I am eternally grateful for the lessons I continue to embrace as I experience a fully vital life. I am now void of old darkness that once bit ripped and destroyed. I have come so far, I have reached a higher level of living. Although as I sit here writing my gut rumbles with the need to roar and release. I have never fully let it-all out let the anger fly first I need to admit I had a right to be angry. I never just belted my real feelings out, never not even to myself or my demons and events. I need to finally SCREAM IT, I just need to get it out of my system once and for all. It is time to really RAGE out without hesitation. I’m sitting here and I can’t believe I have never done so. I have been so passive aggressive about the most brutally aggressive event in my life.

(a teeth rupturing blast of air from a clenched abdomen violently punches forward as I scream-at my group sexual assault, rapist’s and previous meth addiction)
I fucking hate you, I hate what you did to me. You thieving shady bastard, I Hate what you took from me. I despise the night I ever met you and allowed your demonic fuel into my life. Fuck Meth-Fuck Death-Fuck Rape I’ve come way to far to let some bullshit of a stupid drug, a gang rape by 11 men and surrounding events hold me back ever again.

You took everything from me nearly my sanity nearly my life-fuck you. I hate every moment of this experience with you. Although I love what I learned along the way. I still would never trade a second of it and I fucking thank you for the lessons and growth. I absolutely would not be who I am today without you. But I hate the power you held over me the men I met and what I lost and what I sacrificed along the way. I Hate you for taking my apartment, I Hate you for putting me in the hospital and I Hate you for the nightmares that lasted for these years. I Hate you for ripping me open, I Hated being in the hospital for a week, I Hated serving me a life of denial, and moments of psychosis. I Hated becoming nearly spiritually naked, I Hate you for making me live in fear, I Hate you for making me fearful of men, I Hate you for making it impossible to wear short sleeve shirts, I Hate you for my poor decisions, I Hate you for taking my money, I Hate you for taking my mind for that period of time I fucking hate you for taking my career. I absolutely Hate you for taking my confidence, I Hate you for the lies, I Hate you for dehydration,  I Hate you for taking me from my beloved NY I don’t know when I’ll fully heal from that perhaps when I have a home again. I Hate you for taking me from my dear Teddy I really hate you for that. I Hate you taking my intimacy, I Hate you for taking my Humor, I Hate you for taking spirt, and I Hate you for taking my sexuality. I miss my things my home-my home-my I hate you for making me sob till this day for the loss of my home. You took me from my New York, I miss my life… yes I also miss the good “WHAT IF’s” also. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can say I am grateful for what I learned. The list could go on but this is enough now. For every “I HATE” there is a “I LOVE” Believe it or not there is but the anger needed to be released at this time.

I never got angry about this, I never ever got this angry before I never screamed. I never ever blamed another, for my addiction, I never blamed the person who started me. I never ever said it was anyone else’s fault, even the rape. I never screamed about the evil 11, I was in shock for 6 months and numb for years after. I cried in silence but I never raged over it I never just belted out in rage. Now I really understand that not all wars are fought against man. Sometimes the battle is within man not against.

I now live a life of choices, one of my choices is to write, to create to live through art beauty word vision and healing of self and others. I choose to release this clutter from my life. To remain focused on the light and the beauty of the world around me I always have I simply had a detour as part of my life experience. I have done more living and loving in the last 6 months than I have in the past 52 years on this amazing planet. Now that is living a life expanding, everything is possible. This has been my new truth, my new story.

A REFLECTIVE WRAP UP:
Getting sober off meth is only part of my story. Recovery from trauma is another, then the real work is the continuous love labor of my inner worth. 95% of the time I am an absolutely a gangbuster goodwill ambassador of my own personal optimized and growing potential. I survived years crazy stories one after another from the womb to in and out of the “rooms” of recovery and more. It took me a long time to write my sober story and what is acceptable to me. Drinking is part of my sober story maybe not another’s own your story. It is just that but be honest loving and forgiving always. There are no wrong turns if you know your truth.

The destruction addiction and trauma alone or together can play on a persons inner wiring is lethal. It is all about perspective, you go through years of living a life slowly becoming comfortable with being less than. It is like joining a cult, you don’t even know what is happening, the same is true with trauma. You are being chipped away at from the inside out, scrambling about believing the lies. And when you arrive on the other side it takes a long time for some of us to believe that we have any value at all. Some of us can’t even bathe, brush our teeth, eat, take a compliment. A few months ago I couldn’t even get on a subway. Six months ago I couldn’t look in the mirror. Several years ago I couldn’t look at a man over 40 without an injection of meth. I had been so manipulate, beaten down and I no longer knew what the word aspiration meant.

It takes a lot of love to flip our stories. The change is simply a return to your truth we all have a core self that never changes. It is simply remembering who we really are. Loving ourselves, discovering possibly for the first time who we are. BTW hell yes we all have value, EVERYONE has VALUE and EVERYBODY is IMPORTANT. We all have our journeys and we all have our stories and they are all equal in value. No life one is superior no story more tragic than another. Own your journey and love the fuck out of yourself and those around you!

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R