Blossoming

"And then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom"

-- Anais Nin


"I'm still alive", Eddie Veder of Pearl Jam sings on a song I was listening to in my car one day after I had just come out of one of my deepest depressions. I happened to open up the book "Care of the Soul" by Thomas Moore around that time. I opened to a page in which he was addressing the importance of depression for the development of the Soul. He presented a picture of depression being a literal depression in the Soul. This depression allows us to go deeper into our soul in a conscious way. This culture has taught us to fear depression, (to fear any kind of intense discomfort in fact). When I was able to accept, and just be with my depressions, I had transforming experiences that brought about inner experiences, freeing me of many of my burdens of darkness, ignorance and fear. I made contact with a higher power, that I call God, primarily for simplicity's sake. I was shown aspects of myself and past experiences in a new light. I was released from the hold that much of my past had on me. I got out of bed and thanked God for that gift, got in my car and put in the Pearl Jam CD and sang joyfully along with Eddie, "Oh-ooooooo=ooooooh, I'm still alive". For you see, I had run out of rational reasons to continue to live. I thought about suicide, but have a tremendous aversion to physical pain. Besides, my worst fear was that I would fail, and end up, paralyzed, lying in bed, totally unable to do anything for myself.

One night, I was at my darkest and most hopeless. A light came on! I saw a way that I could kill myself and actually succeed, relatively painlessly. I won't go into details, but it involved heroin and a cabin in the beautiful Appalachias. That was a turning point. I spent the next few hours contemplating that course of action. I stopped by a meeting where I knew some people and saw a friend who I shared my discovery with. While sharing it with him, a weight began to lift. He showed me a tattoo on his arm, in memory of a friend who had died of a heroin overdose. I realized, it was approaching 2:00 A.M. and I didn't have to do anything at that moment, but could go home and go to bed. I prayed for God to show me a reason to live. Something happened in that sleep. I woke up, realizing the growth and many of the high points in my life since I had my last drink on January 3, 2004 and got into recovery. I saw progress. I saw hope. I realized that I could let go of any worry and any attachments to any results. Contrasted against the now real option of suicide, what did I have to lose. I could always execute (pardon the pun) that option if my recovery and spiritual growth failed.

Since that experience I have never considered suicide again. My friend that I talked to at the meeting that dark night, believes that his friend, of the heroin overdose tattoo, was there for me that night. There have been times when progress seemed to be halting, and I was becoming resentful and scared. But, I was always able to accept the shutdown, knowing that it would probably change. If it didn't I could always fall back on my idea. The fact is that my consciousness has been transformed. I am in conscious contact with God, my Higher Self, Great Spirit, or whatever you choose to call the divine. The contact fluctuates. Much of the time it is there, close, obviously guiding my life, leading me to people, places and things that I only need to accept and give what I can of me to. But, sometimes it withdraws, usually when I am wanting something to be different. I am learning that acceptance is the answer. "I'm so alive, oooh-ooooooooo-oh, I'm still alive."

I love you, whoever is reading this. I am grateful, that you have cared and had the desire to read this and begin to see me.

Peace, Alan