I stand, facing forward with a tree behind my left shoulder. I cannot see in front of me, only behind me. I am on a hill top, but I cannot see beyond the hill. Next to the tree stands a boy and he is holding a branch from the tree. He wants to die. Not because he is in pain, but because he wants to go back to the source from which he was created. He is the son of Brahma and Brahma is the source of all life.
Brahma appears and when he does, his son turns into a mist and dissolves into the belly of Brahma, the source of all living things.
Brahma exhales and suddenly there is life all around me. I can see birds and mountains and green grass and leaves on the tree. I still cannot see in front of me. I can only see out of the left corner of my eye. I can hear the sound of a river, birds singing and the wind blowing. I can feel life all around and it is buoyant. I see blooms on the tree and colors fill the world. Fragrance of jasmine and magnolia fill my nostrils. Birds fly over to me and rest on my arms and shoulders.
Brahma sits and meditates under the tree. It is so big and full and safe. At first it was just small and dead branches. Now its trunk has grown and its branches provide protection. I am sad and happy at the same time. I lie down and close my eyes and listen to the wind, feel the breeze, hear the birds. I can feel the grass swaying in the wind. Water is rushing through a stream somewhere close. I turn and see the stream is right next to me.
I roll over on one side and rest my head on my hand and stare at Brahma who is in deep meditation. I crawl over to him and nuzzle up to him and he holds me. Ganesh arrives and sits with us. Then Shiva. I am surrounded on three sides, but there is a hole in the circle. I must fill it.
I crawl away from Brahma and sit in the fourth place and we are now under the tree in a circle. I begin to cry. I am sad. I look at their faces for answers, but they have none. They stare back at me blankly. And as I cry they begin to cry as well. I feel like they share my pain and can understand it. I crawl into the center and they close around me in a tight triangle. They lay their hands on me while I cry. I scream and ask for them to help me, but they tell me all they can do is give me compassion and show me my own strength. I look at Brahma and crawl into his belly and bring Ganesh and Shiva with me.
Suddenly I fly out of Brahma’s mouth as a pink bird. I am smiling and feel free. I fly around until I see the Jason on the raft that Ganesh and I built for him to be sent to the ocean. I land on it and begin pecking at him. He comes to life.
He is angry and I tell him it’s me. That we have options and like he chose death, I chose to be a pink bird. He tells me he made the wrong decision. He could never see what was in front of him and that is why he made so many mistakes. I become human and tell him that he is weak and he agrees. He says I made it all look so easy, but that he loved me the best way he knew how. I was the best thing that ever happened to him. But that nothing was enough.
I tell him that I love him and I hate him and he says that I should. He understands why I would feel that way. I tell him I want to hear that he loves me, for some reason I need that. He tells me he truly does and did in the only way he could. I ask him to hold me and he does. He tells me he has to go. He lies back down on the raft and is dead again.
I turn into a pink bird again and fly away, back to the tree where Brahma sits, waiting. I sit on his shoulder and cry because I feel lonely and then I am human again. Brahma never speaks. I am afraid to crawl back into his belly for some reason. And yet I want to at the same time. I resist. Everything seems lonely, but I do it anyway. I am there with Brahma Putra who tells me I am safe and I can stay with him as long as I like. I tell him I am lonely and restless. I don’t know what to do or where to go and he tells me to do nothing and go nowhere. To just rest and be. I nuzzle up to him and fall asleep. I am finally safe.
It Is Like Air
It is like air. The only way I seem to be able to describe it. Air. The death. The almost death. It is a very real thing that I can't seem to get a concrete connection to. It didn’t happen to me, but it did. No more, no less. The same, just different.
I don’t even know where the emotion began. First, there was recognition, not of it, but of something. Then there was a slow awareness. Then the note. Here comes full on recognition, the kind that is unbelievable. This is NOT happening. But you only allow yourself to suspend belief very temporarily because you realize you are the only one who can do anything to change the situation. So I question. What have you done? What did you take? How many? Can you stay awake?
It’s amazing how quickly instinct steps in and takes over. I have never made a 911 call yet' it was my next step. Very calmly, very steadily. I make the call. After two rings I hear a voice, the most calming, compassionate, and safe voice I have ever heard. I tell her what she needs to know, but all I want is to cry. All I want is for her to tell me everything will be OK. I suddenly want to tell her my life story. She asks to stay on the line with me until I hear sirens. I pace, she tells me they are on their way, very close, it won't be much longer. I believe her. I have to. I need to. And they arrive.
The instant intrusion and confusion is a bright light. So many strangers at once, all in one room. They are talking to him. They are asking him questions. He seems vaguely coherent, but what about me. Someone talk to me! I need interaction, I need solace, I need comfort, and I need HIM!!!! But he isn’t here. He’s there, with them and their questions and their tools. I need to stay moving. I quickly get his license and his health insurance card. This is all I can think to do. I keep calling home. I need my parents. Why don’t they answer? Why don’t they answer? Why don’t they answer? Where is everyone? I need them. I call and I call and I call and I call. No one.
Everyone leaves and one officer says that she will take me to the hospital, that I should not drive myself. I promise her that I will contact a friend and that they will take me. I am now holding two phones, both dialing different numbers simultaneously trying to find help. No one will answer. It is 2:00 a.m. It hits me, there is someone I can call to wake my parents. But I don’t know her number. He does, he has it in his phone, programmed. I go searching everywhere for his phone while still trying to wake anyone up. Finally, someone picks up. She says she will be there in 10 minutes. I still can't find his phone. My parents still don’t know. I call his phone to track it. It is ringing and I find it in a hidden pocket in a jacket. It is still ringing and I can't get to it, I can't find a way to open this pocket. There are so many fucking pockets! I am losing it now. I can't keep it together. I am ripping his jacket. I left my phone calling while I was trying to get the phone that his phone recorded everything I did. I was screaming. I was ripping at the jacket. I was crying. This would be something he would hear in the next days to come.
I call her and she answers. I tell her that he is in the hospital and my parents aren’t picking up their phone. She knows exactly what to do. She will take care of it. Then my friend arrives. We are in the car and moving fast. I call his doctor and tell him what he took. He says to not worry, it isn’t a lethal dose. This should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. The feeling is so new. I have experienced loss and death. This wasn’t like that. Was it terror? Fear? Denial? To this day I can't say. I am unable to give it a color or a name. What about a sound? All I come up with is fluttering wind. That doesn’t sound right, does it? That doesn’t seem very fitting with the heavy situation. Or is it that heavy? Yes. It is.
The hospital is comical. Ridiculous. I have to sneak my friend in with me because only one person is allowed at a time. He is lying there, not sure what is happening, not sure where he is. No one attends to him. I feel exhaustion setting in because I know that I will now have to run herd on the staff to get things taken care of. I will have to run herd on him to keep him awake, whether it is for my sake or his. My parents call. They know and they are on there way. They live 60 minutes away. My mother tells me she will be there 45. I believe her. I hear it in her voice.
They didn't pump his stomach. They used charcoal to absorb the drugs in the stomach. It is my job to make him drink the charcoal. Slowly, but surely, I get it down him. He keeps talking and makes no sense. Drifts from one thing to another. I have never seen him this way. It is the drugs, yes, but in this kind of state is frightening. No one talks about that part of suicide and overdoses. Why don’t they? To see a loved one in an altered state is, well, altering. Where are my parents? Ah, right there. Here they are. I will be OK. For now.
I don’t even know where the emotion began. First, there was recognition, not of it, but of something. Then there was a slow awareness. Then the note. Here comes full on recognition, the kind that is unbelievable. This is NOT happening. But you only allow yourself to suspend belief very temporarily because you realize you are the only one who can do anything to change the situation. So I question. What have you done? What did you take? How many? Can you stay awake?
It’s amazing how quickly instinct steps in and takes over. I have never made a 911 call yet' it was my next step. Very calmly, very steadily. I make the call. After two rings I hear a voice, the most calming, compassionate, and safe voice I have ever heard. I tell her what she needs to know, but all I want is to cry. All I want is for her to tell me everything will be OK. I suddenly want to tell her my life story. She asks to stay on the line with me until I hear sirens. I pace, she tells me they are on their way, very close, it won't be much longer. I believe her. I have to. I need to. And they arrive.
The instant intrusion and confusion is a bright light. So many strangers at once, all in one room. They are talking to him. They are asking him questions. He seems vaguely coherent, but what about me. Someone talk to me! I need interaction, I need solace, I need comfort, and I need HIM!!!! But he isn’t here. He’s there, with them and their questions and their tools. I need to stay moving. I quickly get his license and his health insurance card. This is all I can think to do. I keep calling home. I need my parents. Why don’t they answer? Why don’t they answer? Why don’t they answer? Where is everyone? I need them. I call and I call and I call and I call. No one.
Everyone leaves and one officer says that she will take me to the hospital, that I should not drive myself. I promise her that I will contact a friend and that they will take me. I am now holding two phones, both dialing different numbers simultaneously trying to find help. No one will answer. It is 2:00 a.m. It hits me, there is someone I can call to wake my parents. But I don’t know her number. He does, he has it in his phone, programmed. I go searching everywhere for his phone while still trying to wake anyone up. Finally, someone picks up. She says she will be there in 10 minutes. I still can't find his phone. My parents still don’t know. I call his phone to track it. It is ringing and I find it in a hidden pocket in a jacket. It is still ringing and I can't get to it, I can't find a way to open this pocket. There are so many fucking pockets! I am losing it now. I can't keep it together. I am ripping his jacket. I left my phone calling while I was trying to get the phone that his phone recorded everything I did. I was screaming. I was ripping at the jacket. I was crying. This would be something he would hear in the next days to come.
I call her and she answers. I tell her that he is in the hospital and my parents aren’t picking up their phone. She knows exactly what to do. She will take care of it. Then my friend arrives. We are in the car and moving fast. I call his doctor and tell him what he took. He says to not worry, it isn’t a lethal dose. This should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. The feeling is so new. I have experienced loss and death. This wasn’t like that. Was it terror? Fear? Denial? To this day I can't say. I am unable to give it a color or a name. What about a sound? All I come up with is fluttering wind. That doesn’t sound right, does it? That doesn’t seem very fitting with the heavy situation. Or is it that heavy? Yes. It is.
The hospital is comical. Ridiculous. I have to sneak my friend in with me because only one person is allowed at a time. He is lying there, not sure what is happening, not sure where he is. No one attends to him. I feel exhaustion setting in because I know that I will now have to run herd on the staff to get things taken care of. I will have to run herd on him to keep him awake, whether it is for my sake or his. My parents call. They know and they are on there way. They live 60 minutes away. My mother tells me she will be there 45. I believe her. I hear it in her voice.
They didn't pump his stomach. They used charcoal to absorb the drugs in the stomach. It is my job to make him drink the charcoal. Slowly, but surely, I get it down him. He keeps talking and makes no sense. Drifts from one thing to another. I have never seen him this way. It is the drugs, yes, but in this kind of state is frightening. No one talks about that part of suicide and overdoses. Why don’t they? To see a loved one in an altered state is, well, altering. Where are my parents? Ah, right there. Here they are. I will be OK. For now.
Meditation of a Horse
You do not wait for me, or beckon me or even welcome me. If I choose, you allow me to ride you. Permission is granted without request. You read my mind if I want you to walk, canter, or gallop. You know intuitively what I need.
As we ride, you are not emotive. We are not connected emotionally. You are your own spirit, your own being. You are detached, but not cold. I connect with you through a shared feeling of freedom and safety.
You, like the sand, the ocean, the sky, the mountains or the birds, do not accept or reject me. These are not qualities that inhabit your realm. You live like any creature in nature. Without attachment. Without need. Without want. Only to exist.
The ocean permits me to swim in it. The sand permits me to walk in it. The mountains permit me to climb them. Birds permit me to hear their song. And just as a tree permits me to rest against its trunk and seek shelter in its shade, you permit me to ride you.
And when I ride you, I feel the freedom from emotion and experience the feeling of nothingness. As we ride, we come upon the Tree of Life and as I dismount to find refuge under its large branches, but you do not follow. You remain alone.
As I rest, a feeling of loneliness washes over me. I have suddently lost the feelings of safety and freedom and need to be near you. The need is desperate and so I beckon to you. And as you near me, the feeling disappears almost as quickly as it came.
I run my hands over your face. I am compelled to look into your eyes. I am searching for something and I do not know what. And then I understand why I wanted you near. Of all the things I see in your eyes, compassion, love, strength, courage, and wisdom, there is something else, something more, and something greater. I see God.
As we ride, you are not emotive. We are not connected emotionally. You are your own spirit, your own being. You are detached, but not cold. I connect with you through a shared feeling of freedom and safety.
You, like the sand, the ocean, the sky, the mountains or the birds, do not accept or reject me. These are not qualities that inhabit your realm. You live like any creature in nature. Without attachment. Without need. Without want. Only to exist.
The ocean permits me to swim in it. The sand permits me to walk in it. The mountains permit me to climb them. Birds permit me to hear their song. And just as a tree permits me to rest against its trunk and seek shelter in its shade, you permit me to ride you.
And when I ride you, I feel the freedom from emotion and experience the feeling of nothingness. As we ride, we come upon the Tree of Life and as I dismount to find refuge under its large branches, but you do not follow. You remain alone.
As I rest, a feeling of loneliness washes over me. I have suddently lost the feelings of safety and freedom and need to be near you. The need is desperate and so I beckon to you. And as you near me, the feeling disappears almost as quickly as it came.
I run my hands over your face. I am compelled to look into your eyes. I am searching for something and I do not know what. And then I understand why I wanted you near. Of all the things I see in your eyes, compassion, love, strength, courage, and wisdom, there is something else, something more, and something greater. I see God.
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