Metaphorically Speaking

 

The cliche', the parable, and the metaphorical figure of speech are effective means of communicating a point to another individual...

I don't know what I would do if these did not exist. Once I incorporate the use of a particular phrase I tend to practice its use until one that is more fitting enters my mental collection.

Of late, one of the more popular phrases that has become common is "When it Rains it Pours." This truth has been true of my own life as well as the lives of many of the patients I treat. The storms of life can at times become quite turbulent and a true test of ones faith. Many will question if they are being punished or if there will ever be sunlight again.

The unpredictability of a situation is what makes it an authentic and genuine life test. I have grown to believe that God and Nature cleanses us spiritually by sometimes allowing a cascade of negativity to occur in a manner that allows us to clear out all of the garbage and allow us a fresh start. The toxic people and circumstances are faced before falling to the wayside, the pain is felt followed by new opportunities and situations to deal with. Nietzsche writes "That which does Not Kill Us Makes Us Stronger." The Bible teaches us that God will never place more on us than we are capable of enduring.

I view life as a series of peaks and valleys. Always push forward when in a valley for the next peak surely lies ahead. You only lose if you quit trying. Suicide and addiction are the truest forms of surrender. There is no such thing as failure but only new experiences where things don't always turn out the way in which we planned or expected. Learn from your mistakes so not to repeat them.

Make the welfare of your children your top priority and you will be blessed. Placing other personal desires in this position of priority is one of the roots of misfortune. Go as far as you can with a problem then turn it over to your higher power. Learn your personal limits. Anger and fear are life saving mechanisms when used as intended but when misdirected and disproportionate to the circumstance take on a destructive effect. Suppression of emotion is equally as harmful as over-expression.

Tomorrow isn't promised so live each day as if it were your last. Because you feel bad doesn't necessarily mean you are doing badly. You may just be responding appropriately to unpleasant circumstances. The problem is not within so do not look for flaws in oneself but ask what can I do to alleviate the effect of that which stresses me. I can rationalize it or remove myself from it or ignore it or assert myself in an effective manner and take that action as far as my limits permit. Repeating the same behavior over and over and expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity. Not caring about the outcome is learned helplessness.

Be part of the solution not the problem. If you can't say something good don't say anything at all. If you love something let it go and if it comes back it is yours. If it doesn't come back it never was yours to begin with. If you want to enter the Kingdom, sell your worldly possessions, give the money to the poor and come follow the Master. It is easier for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven. Let he without sin cast the first stone.

spirituality and mental health

Clarence Thomas Was On My Mind

 

I woke up in a bad mood this morning.

I had a dream that I had finally lost my mind for good. I recall screaming and yelling and escorted from the building after talking to the bank on the phone and being told that the Attorney General had frozen my account. I then ran over a fire hydrant in a car I drove (badly) via remote control  and challenged the police and an angry mob featuring an extremely obese cop with a hypodermic needle for me. I didn't care if they killed me at first then I changed my mind and decided to run for it. I outran all of them but one or two. They finally forgot why they were chasing me. The colors were vivid reds, greens, browns, and the sun came out as the water stopped coming down. The next thing I remember was awakening with the thought in my mind of I hate Clarence Thomas. How is that for crazy?

I haven't been able to get that thought out of my mind. I actually began to start to like Justice Thomas for the first time after viewing some of his 60 Minutes interview last Sunday. He spoke about his new book My Grandfather's Son and how firm and proud his grandfather, a descendent of slaves, had raised him to be. He disappointed his grandfather by not following through with his initial endeavor to be a clergyman. He attended an Ivy League Law School later but found the degree to be of little use in helping him to prosper. He commented that the degree wasn't worth the 15 cents frame it was mounted in. He spoke of how racism affected his earlier life prior to becoming a part of the Reagan administration where he would eventually be selected by President GHW Bush to replace Thurgood Marshall on the US Supreme Court where he remains to this day.

Thomas is most despised in the Black community for his controversial and hypocritical stance on Affirmative Action for minorities, claiming that it is pacifying and harmful to recipients. The irony lay in the fact that his whole life and career are the epitome of Affirmative  Action. Yet he has the audacity to voice the belief that all other blacks should pick themselves up by their boot straps, regardless of background circumstances. He feeds into the erroneous belief Affirmative Action is always synonymous with quotas and giving something to unqualified or undeserving parties. He apparently buys the line that institutions will automatically end racist discriminatory practices out of the goodness of their heart. He also must accept the premise that no harm was done by the years of government supported Jim Crow. Was that not just Affirmative Action in reverse?

As far as I am concerned, Justice Thomas' vote to stop the  Florida ballot count in Gore v Bush in the 2000 Election was Affirmative Action in favor of our current President. Regardless of the spin, the fact remains that Republicans do not care about poor people, in general. Future discrimination is more likely to be based on class rather than race. In the day of Justice Thurgood Marshall racism was the core issue. Thomas has been quite successful in reversing much of the progress Marshall fought to accomplish in the arena of racial equality. The sad part is that he probably doesn't even care. I see why he rides incognito in his RV when traveling the country during vacation time.

Some who read this may criticize me as just being petty and jealous of Justice Thomas. The truth is that I would not trade beliefs and places with him for any amount of money or popularity. It does bother me, however, that he is considered to be a premiere representative of a typical successful African American who can receive instant publicity of his book throughout all the media when other voices such as Tavis Smiley, Michael Eric Dyson, or Dr. Cornell West of Princeton University seem to be suppressed by major media outlets. Why is that? My own book is not a masterpiece but is professionally edited and I believe to be more in line with how most African Americans perceive reality than anything Thomas could ever write. Is it politics or money that gives his book preferential exposure to other authors who may address comparable topics?

I didn't really want to make this entry but I felt I needed to. I know there are people who agree with me. I am not attempting to spark debate or inflame any right wingers. Sometimes I just have to get things that may be bothering me out of my system so I can move on.

politics

Grief and Recovery

 Haven't touched the computer to write in about two weeks and my head is about to explode with thoughts and ideas.

My better entries seem to occur when it seems I initially have very little going on in my mind, just the opposite of what I'm feeling tonight. Oh well, I'll just hit the keys and see what happens. My father was buried two days ago. The whole illness death experience was one of the most difficult things I've experienced in my life. I am glad his suffering is over but it will be hard readjusting to life without his presence. It didn't really hit me hard until the actual funeral procession began. I've always had a phobia of funerals and unconsciously searched for ways to avoid them, whenever possible. One of the worst panic attacks of my life occurred at a funeral when I was a teen. I've learned much about grief since that time. Anxiety was not a problem with the loss of my father. I worry about my mother but sadness and a sense of loss has been what I have felt mostly. I take comfort in knowing my father lived a long life and meant a lot to many people. The symbolism provided by the Navy's contribution of playing Taps and the release of the white doves, and the Masonic presence and ritual I found to be comforting and represented a side of my father's life that I barely knew existed.

Death seems to become increasingly more intriguing to me in many ways. Mostly the spiritual aspect since this presents a challenge for most with a strong science related background. My nature has always been most consistent with that of a Doubting Thomas. I want to see the wounds. The more I work with grieving and dying patients and experience my own grief the more convinced I feel that God does truly exist and has loving concern for us. I never dismiss as coincidence the dreams, visions, and other signs people share with me when going through an experience. After the nurse called about worsening in my father's condition I drove to see him for what I knew would be the last time. He was not conscious and was having convulsions of his arms and upper body. All I could think to do was to pray silently, asking God to comfort him. When I opened my eyes, to my surprise, he calmed momentarily. I later learned that his dog Mack, 13 miles away, whined all that night. I can dismiss the insomnia felt by myself and others close to my father as logical and not too hard to explain but I find Mack's premonition and the power of prayer difficult to dismiss as simple coincidence. After receiving confirmation of his passing via phone from my mother early the next morning my cat Oreo snuggled tightly up against me as if she wanted to comfort me. Coincidence? Maybe? Maybe not.

I never wrote my piece mentioned in a previous posting about "Three Old Men" and how they chose to face their imminent deaths. Within the past 9 months 3 uncles, a close friend/cousin, and my father have passed. The least I can do is to pay tribute by mentioning their names. Last December, Uncle J.C. debilitated by a major stroke and in his late 80's was surprised by death while engaging in an activity most of us take for granted, chewing and swallowing his lunch. Later the following Spring, Cousin Raymond, in his mid 60's lost his battle with alcoholism and slipped into a coma never to awaken. No one really believed it would ever really happen. Several weeks later, Uncle Milt, in his mid to late 80's, refused any more chemo for his lung cancer. He went to his closet and picked out the suit and shoes he wished to be buried in. He retired to bed awaiting the death angel who met him a couple of weeks later. He went on to join Aunt Elouise in Glory. In June, Uncle Van, age 78, cursed at the doctors angrily refusing any treatment for his esophageal cancer. He remembered the slow and painful death Aunt Edna, his wife, experienced from breast cancer and chemotherapy. He soon died suddenly and surprisingly of non cancer related causes. I think he felt a sense of victory because it wasn't the cancer that killed him. My father was diagnosed with cancer over two years ago. He had some radiation to shrink the tumor some but his doctors didn't recommend aggressive treatment due to his advanced age. Anyone else would probably have lived a few months more and given up the ghost. Not my dad. He chose to fight that cancer with sheer stubbornness and defiance til the bitter end. And that he did. When I went to his last VA appointment with him, his arterial blood gases on room air were better than mine despite a softball sized tumor in one lung. His cancer even metastasized to his skin, causing a large growth on his forehead. I suspect he had those tumors all over his body. Over the last year of life I watched him go from a walking cane to a walker to a wheelchair to a hospital bed to a diaper and drop from 180 lbs to 80 lbs. Still he never quit fighting. His body just finally gave completely out. I'm glad he has some peace despite the fact he'll be missed. The slow dying process gave me a chance to verbally tell him I loved him for the first time. That represents growth for me and I am thankful.

I thought it would be interesting to review how my loved ones faced their deaths since we all must make the same choice sooner or later. Somehow, I seem to think Uncle Milt had it right. I don't know if I could find the serenity to accept death so gracefully. I'm hoping that there isn't a need to write about sad topics again for a while but I understand that what the future holds is out of my control. I also know that love and time heals all wounds.

spirituality and mental health