Dyslexic Untie!

23 06 2016

dyslesicDyslexics not I am Untie! is their a Dog insomnia?

If you can decipher this message then we are a mind meld. I love shotgun wording, brian space sometimes just needs a flow. Cares if “english” grammar, etc are discarded. Yup. Free the brain. Communication is just an opportunity for souls to vibrate in proximity, exchanging info non verbal non physical.

I love just popping the cork and putting it out there especially when recovering from a long term deep dive, ahh. Yes, I know a high percentage of “normal” english speakers have now moved on which is good! I’ve never been a champion, worried about or communication king with the Chorus.

I’ve always been a fan of the people outside the circle who still have a sliver inside them to come back into light. It is my journey, it is the conscious bipolar journey, it is a journey we all take, some of us on a very large range/scale/extremes.

I heard recently at a new age retreat that we are finally realizing that everyone is crazy, I burst out laughing inside but kept a straight face on because they were laughing and saying this as if it was a newsflash and new concept.

Yeah! Us crazies are finally ahead of the pack. If life has given/born/created, who cares origin, insanity, dysfunction, or crazy, then we often know, from the beginning, life is crazy, we are all screwed up, it’s just that some of us are so raw, we can’t, don’t wish to, or have just completely ignored the normal train, and “normal” people are able to maintain a copying mechanism to cover cope with their neurosis in a non visual, or socially acceptable way, example, Bars, drinking, and everyday jerks, snobs or ___.

Welcome aboard or off the tracks to the “normal” people. I love it that the world is in chaos and a majority of the “normal” people in my life are losing their sh*t, ?.

no seriously what are you talking about George it’s horrible!

Really?

People are losing their sh*t. Sh*t being fertilizer, coping mechanism, separation, ignorance, avoidance.

My mom always said, “If you really want to get to know someone, take them on a crappy camping trip.”

It’s true, welcome to camping world.

Our convenient coping mechanisms are failing in masse. Our realness is showing, our connections, REAL, connections are growing, and we are finally, finally getting to see the people we thought we new, as more real.

I love this as a bipolar person, because the extremes in my life, have always shown me my insanity first hand, and opened my eyes to see what others have always hidden.

This, this my friends is the gift of being “crazy” outside the box or normality all or percentage of ones life.

Because here is the juice. Once I get past the b.s. with mutual coping mechanisms with someone, we get to decide whether we like each other, and if we do it’s awesome! Or if we don’t and have to deal with them anyway, then we get to grow, and sometimes, sometimes that leads to liking ourselves more, and sometimes even the other person.

This, is truly the gift of these “crazy”, opening, growing for all times.

peace
George,

ok how do I find my way off this soap box…





Two Cups

9 05 2015

two coffee cups

Sometimes it takes two cups of coffee to crank the brain in the morning, ok I’ll admit it, two cups with 1/2 1/2, that is. ? Ok FINE, I confess the eating method I’ve very successfully been on for about a year limits my carbs to 1 hr a day, and cream in my coffee is limited to only 1 a day which sucks when I need 2 and is cool when I want to break the rules which is often, and yet I’m still gradually letting go of poundage, thank God. But this rambling nonsense is not what I wanted to blog about.

I’m putting it off because I’m scared. Shitless that is. I haven’t felt like writing so I’ve been reading other bipolar blogs. Here is a BIG thank you to ALL bipolar blog writers. I have one comment for all, I RESEMBLE THIS!

Ok fine, said that. Bipolar and Relationships. That’s what I’m scared shitless to write about. It’s what I purposely avoided in my book.

Thank God for other bipolar writers, because, wow, I’m alone in life, but not in community with other bloggers about the topic.

Bipolar. Maybe I should start there. The more I read about other bipolars, the more it affirms basic truths. It matters not, what path, ethnicity, gender, preference, lifestyle, economics, age etc. Bipolar is what it is. It doesn’t seem to matter if we choose medication, organic, or hybrid methods of treatment. Bipolar is a very active roller coaster ride, yes it can be smooth and boring occasionally, but we never seem to know when a normal mood is gonna go sideways fast and hold on to see where we end up.

Relationships. Honestly. I gave up years ago. A)I seem to be attracted to members of the opposite sex who end up taking advantage of me. B) I am a high maintenance freak show at times. C)I lose myself completely, and who wants to live with a subservient ghost? D) When I’m triggered off my rocker bat shit up or down crazy, 99 people out of 100 only make it worse. The one cure all I can rely on, is copious amounts of time, me, alone, nature. Preferably with access to sweating and creating. Period. That is my reset cure.

It doesn’t help that I do shift work. I’ve found remote industrial work, is a good routine for me, I’m gone for a couple weeks, and then I”m off. No matter how screwed up I get at home or work, the other is a sure fire routine for coming back on track.

So living my life alone with bipolar, sans medication, I’m quite successful. I have long term employment in a job I’ m highly suited for, I self -regulate my bipolar, and have many hobbies.

Now I feel like an embarrassed idiot, but I want truth to be shared. Yes I am living a bipolar life without meds, drugs, or alcohol. But I’m still batshit crazy at times, and just don’t seem to have relationships any where on the priority list. Every time I get involved, it ends in disaster. I concluded long ago, I am the common denominator, and yes I have dedicated decades, and thousands of dollars to therapy, workshops, ad nauseam etc.

Which leads me to the one relationship I have always relied upon. I’m not a member of any religion. But there is something unseen greater then me, I have always been able to access when I’m truly sincere, open and humble, which gives me peace, comfort, connection, and releases all fears and worries. When I truly open and ask the universe for help, I have always received whatever I truly needed in the moment. This is the connection I’ve rededicated my life to again and again, and this is what I feel like my life purpose is, to be connected, and to be available to help others who are temporarily lost, to feel connected again. This is the deepest peace I’ve discovered in my bipolar journey, I may not be connected in a traditional socially acceptable societal means with other humans, but I have plenty of time to reconnect as needed inside, with what appears to be, everything.

two coffee cups





Hope Evolution

22 04 2015

I dedicate this blog, to those living in hopelessness. I’m praying happy tears for you today. When I began my journey of hope. Hope that myself and all of life was not horrible, out of control, and a useless miserable failure, my hope, was from a kernel of faith, that somehow still existed inside of me, in spite of it all. Some part of me lived, kept breathing, waking, moving. My faith came from books, because all people had proven themselves to be idiots and untrustworthy to me. They also locked me up, because of my mental behavior.

This journey of hope, began locked, in severe psychological pain, after years of faith and bust. Words, read, uncovered, hoped were real, began my journey back to life. Out of words came healthy habits. Writing my thoughts in journals, all of it. The good the bad the ugly. Over and over again. Journals clean out crap in my head, and reveal gems from time to time, if I’m patient and persistent.

Over time, my faith and hope, led me to opportunities, experiences, which led to real life, real time, face to face healing. Along the way I discovered and interacted with healthy humans, and let go of many humans stuck in behaviors that were destructive for me.

My happy tears today for people in hopelessness, is gratitude for the potential. If we can survive the hopelessness, If we can be graced with discovery and opportunity of new healing then we can evolve.

Happy tears today, are for the discovery of erosion of psychological control temporarily embedded by humans in positions of power living in their own unresolved fears into innocents. Time, healthy daily methods, new healthy information, observation and experimentation of good ideas, have continued to erode those negative unhealthy psychological destructive beliefs, behaviors, identity, and unconscious reactions to stress, given to me, and a little bit each day ejected, and eventually let go of completely.

I continue to say good bye, to other peoples fears, and hello to life is good, and getting even a little better, each day.





Leaf Sway

1 02 2015

il_340x270.461955452_8xysLush white birch outside my dorm, crickly dried up maple in New England, continually green southern clime green leaf flow. I love leaves in gentle wind sway. They bend twirl flow and eventually let go, different kinds and cycles everywhere I go. Bipolar is cycles within cycles. Bipolar functionality is awareness, what cycle when where how prep, renew. We know we will be up and down. We know we will react, planned or not, yet how? How do we intercept our insanity long enough to choose the lesser paths of destruction, and the gentler path of letting go and renewal? Do we even have/want a choice, yet?

Leaves sway and say listen, gentle listen, for the cycles. We grow off flexible twigs, we bring nourishment, we dance in the breeze, and flow away, to nourish the earth, wherever we land.

Leaves, leaves of all kinds, interesting green bushes, or background for intricate delicate flowers no matter, leaves are an element of attention, indoors or out, whispering gentle reminders of flows, cycles, renewals…

Sway on





Bipolar Angst

7 10 2013

BPAngst“We can see how people dream and succeed in life; we can also completely sympathize   with people walking the dark and lonely roads of hopeless failure.”  pg 6, Living Out of Darkness.

I wrote this in the beginning of my book about the bipolar disorder journey.  It’s an alternative definition I’ve come up with to attempt describing the big picture experience of being consciously bipolar.

Training oneself with spirituality, positive metaphysics, etc, can help understand and work with managing the mania phase.

Deep sober, prayer and meditation, can lead to expanding comprehension of human experience while physically filled with dark emotion.

These two methods combined over time to deal with the mania and depression, can lead to the conscious bipolar experience.

Conscious bipolar individuals don’t just intellectually analyze the facts of anything. We can experience first hand direct physical emotional/soul/spirit/ connection with facts and humanity. The immensity of this experience without internal or external tutelage, leads to the blow outs in behavior.

On one hand, I can/could/have, blame my family for everything,

On the other hand, knowing what I know now, about their upbringing in challenging times, the nature of the individuals that they are, combined with the in depth experience a bipolar life has allowed me, I could never blame them or me for anything.

Experiencing the extreme highs/lows, depth of life, separately, mixed, and intimately within one’s body allows an opening for healing.

When I can truly feel another’s pain, and potential, in my own body, I can also nurture hope and potential.

This is tricky.  It is the gift and burden of bipolar angst.  Do we run from the highs and lows and act out?

Do we stick around long enough to experience both?

Do we embody what we feel, and still choose conscious positive potential actions?

g





Tears Heal

1 10 2013

Tears

When I gently guide myself thru a rough patch, tears can be a good sign.

?

Yesterday Rocky today tears?

Yup.

When I’ve been thru a stretch of high stress work or life, and my mind is on obsessive spin cycle, or sleeplessness, etc., tears can sometimes indicate, i’m getting ok again.

When I learned how to be crazy as a child, I learned a “survival identity”.

Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.

As an adult it is much easier to ignore mental pain, and just get on with reality, take care of work/life/family demands to provide food and shelter.

But what if the crisis ends, if real world demands drop off a bit, and I actually have a moment to breathe, or allow myself a moment to catch up internally?

I usually go thru phases, get thru the stress, spin down, sleep, have a really good day, and then anxiety hits.

This is a tricky slope in dealing with mental waves, bipolar disorder, and continuous sobriety.

The anxiety, after a really good day, after a series of really bad daze, needs to be dealt with carefully, inside out.

First I acknowledge it.  Yesterday, nothing was wrong in my world, but I felt squirrelly.  It would have been easy to make a lot of unhealthy choices.

It would have been easy to dismiss it and get busy with anything.

When I have the luxury of time, to breath in my anxiety, I do.

Why?!!!

Overtime, years in fact, of this practice, has lead to a deeper calm inside, less of a reaction to stressful situations while they happen, less need for poor choices in situations I want to run from etc.

Tears, are an indicator, I feel safe enough to feel, and safe enough to decompress, and catch up with unprocessed sensitivity, reactions, visceral response to human experience in a mechanically operated, automated, corporate environment, techo fast world.

How natural is it for us to be human in our fast paced society?

How natural is it to be human, bottle up stress, and stuff it with more busy-ness?

Tears can heal, if allowed a moment to breathe.

George





Sip a Little

15 03 2013

Stop.  Sit.  Breathe.

Sip a little bit of what is deeply already you.  Today is here, and is happening; already finding it’s way with and without our help and permission.  We still have some influence on it, but what and how are we going to participate?  Are we going to fluff the day with ignorance of routine and reading the script of boredom set before the imaginary teleprompter of acquiescence?  Are we going to boldly be stupid no matter what and make a mess, or gamble and win?

Stop.

Sit a little, just a moment, breath again.

Who are we, really?

Sip a little, of who we really are.

Do the being that you are.





Soul Surrender

6 11 2010

At what point is the urge of soul, bigger than the surge of ego?

Having been a “functional” person for many years of my life, and a contributing member of society, of which I’m extremely grateful having wandered for many years before I arrived at a functional mesh with society, I’m now sitting at a still point in my life with my soul and body, and negotiating what’s next.  Having studied positive metaphysics, meditation, etc, for many years, I now sit and mesh it with current body opportunities.  So I sit and refresh my emptiness, with moments of clarity, white puffy cloud thoughts interrupted by blue sky.

Forcing a seizure of function and reality in my life has never worked for long once my soul has left a situation be it job, relationship or living situation.  Forcing understanding or awakening from a mind meandering hasn’t worked either.

Yet, lately I feel a soul surrender, a re commitment to my soul.  At this point in my life I can cross off many little boxes in my mind, did this did that, fulfilled that tried this etc.  And, I can experience a level of frustration, angst, and emptiness.  Next to that I have another checklist of things I can do immediately to begin moving out of that space.

Being the internal daring adventurist that I am, I’ve continued my journey of temporarily suspending convictions and been willing to re-ask the once sought after questions.  It’s refreshing, scary, and messy.

The gentle voice inside has popped up two words today;

Soul Surrender.

When I nod my head inside with agreement to seeing/being in my soul even for yet just another moment longer of dwelling in the deep smell of eye peace, I get it.

IT, doesn’t really matter.  What really matters, from time to time, is manifesting these moments of boldly throwing everything I THINK about myself and life in the fire of my current discontentment, until my soul stares back at me through the flames of ego ash and knows, it’s ok.

What ever IT currently is that my ego loves to fester with, my soul continues, with or without my ego agreement and function.  Despite the airtime in my head, my soul knows, and is always in here with me, gently seeing allowing whispering, and loving; all of me.

Eyes with souls,

George





Woo Woo Kindergarten

16 10 2010

Love.  Now.

If I only had two words I could take with me for the rest of my life to a deserted island in the sea.  These are the only two words I would ever need.

Love. Now.

Before I accepted the modern western science word and definition of bipolar disorder, manic depression, I came across writings about shamanism in literature and anthropology classes in college.

My internal experience was extremely dysfunctional, dark, and angry at the time.  I was less than a year out of the mental institute, daily user of marijuana, and binge drinking whenever I could afford it or b.s. my way into a party.

I was scared enough about being locked up again that I was somehow able to overcome the monsters inside me enough not to get fired at my job to support school and attend classes, but the inside of my head would have scared the psych ward.

Being hospitalized highlighted and traumatized the mental state I was in, yes it kept me physically safe from hurting myself, and gave my family a rest from dealing with me, but it really only gave me a hard “right turn here Clyde whack” (80’s Clint Eastwood movie reference) into desperately searching for a healing in my life.(which is all good now and I am extremely grateful for)(yes it took many years to see the good and come to the mental/physical healing conclusion in my being).

Where was I?  Oh yes, bipolar and shamanism.  I related to shamanism first, before I accepted the term and definition of bipolar.

The physical descriptions of weird behavior, muttering, isolation, non function in society, and leading ceremonies and strange combinations of physical objects or attire.

I actually laughed out loud and sprayed my coffee in the middle of a college class when I came across the description the first time in the book.

Why?

Cut and paste the previous paragraph of the physical description of shamans, attach my face to it and put it up as a poster boy for.

I never heard of the word shamanism, (I grew up in remote Alaska in the 70’s)(Parents didn’t “do” the sixties”)(translation-our American culture has evolved a lot, thank God)(I promise to cut down on parenthesis if they drive you nuts)(ok just one more I obviously have a lot to say today, I must be making up for my silent journey as of late.)

It wasn’t long after the seeds of shamanism were planted in my soul, that I sobered up by attending 12 step programs, and discovered positive metaphysics courses and teachers, which I have been devouring ever, sense.

Like any rambunctious puppy smelling out new adventures, I tried everything:  hence the words I use, woo woo, new age, tarot, psychic, channeling, angels, medicine cards, etc. etc. etc.

Sometimes I attended, sometimes I did it.  Startling enough I was actually really good at it, and could easily have pursued a career in it because people paid me and asked me to do it more. (huge side track I’ll write about some other time, quick answer: Bipolar/shamans, have inside track to the unseen/nonverbal world)

I quickly observed something though.

This might piss a few people off, but here goes;

It’s all about love; it’s all about now.

Every shamanic, voo doo, woo woo, psychic, you name experience I ever had, ALWAYS, always, always, led me back to the present moment life issues, and always the same way to heal the trauma revealed or energy to pursue the dream revealed was love.

So does that mean you don’t recommend following anything George?  Does that mean you should do nothing and just meditate in a room? Nope.  I tried that too.  In fact I even went to China to the ancient caves that the people before the Taoists meditated in and meditated there.

If I were to add a third word to my deserted island vocabulary it would be YES.

Explore everything, taste, feel, channel, listen, sing, play, express, receive.  It’s why we are here.  It’s why we created all these flavors on the buffet.

And if it becomes overwhelming, ungrounded, or scary in anyway,

Just re-member, the word, LOVE, and NOW.

Here is how:

Put your hands on your chest.  Breathe.  Keeping taking deep slow breaths until you feel calm, and ready to explore, yell, play, scream, dance, cry, feel, work, or what ever appears next in your dance of life.

Luv yas,

George

 





Honoring Stillness

13 09 2010

I love being bipolar.  24/7, maybe not, but are there parts of the cycle that I feel deeper and deeper in love with?  Yes.  This is why I always encourage people to go after their dreams.  How cliché George.  Go after your dreams, doesn’t matter, big step, little step, no matter, think obsess, dedicate energy every chance you can in your dream.  WHY?

My low lows, have been replaced with a buoyancy.   When I contemplate and trace it back, when I question my quietness and my stillness, I realize it’s because irregardless, of all that I am/am not/do/don’t do, I’ve accomplished dreams that matter to me.  This has given me a quiet inner strength, which even my own dark withdrawn moodiness at times can no longer seem to penetrate.  Does anyone with bipolar reading this know the power of this?  What a relief it is to know, the dark empty times I used to fear, have transformed into a quiet stillness.  I don’t feel the need to force myself to do anything.  What is also amazing is when I really allow myself to be inside this quiet, and I begin to question the depth of it, a part of me opens up to insights about life which I’m not always able to capture, but I know it is what allows me to drop into a deep nurturing space when I chose to be around others.  It also allows me to sort out times when I’m the complete opposite.  Some coworkers actually expected me to go to work bearing gifts for putting up with me over the summer(not a bad idea from time to time, I’ll bring some bribes next time up).

What I love about my continuing journey with bipolar, having survived the darkest of years, is the quiet stillness which can exist in the same trails inside of me that used to be treacherous.  I can now look at the realities, my dreams and yearnings created through shear stubbornness, and know that what I wanted most for myself and others with this gift, was a trail hacked through the wilderness, bread crumbs of a way, captured in a book.  Is what I wrote the final word on bipolar, not by a long shot, it’s barely a ruff draft on a napkin, what matters, is that I took my best shot, at creating another method for transforming the gift of bipolar disorder, into an opportunity.  And the biggest reward I receive is affirmation.  From time to time someone sends an email, posts on facebook, amazon or itunes a review or comment and my stillness deepens.  I’ve completed a sacred cycle.  I’ve honored what appeared to be dark in me, until I heard and shared the gifts, by sharing the gifts others have received the benefit, some agree, some discard, some are grateful.  Each revolution has emptied a void of darkness in me, and filled it with a stillness.

Thank God for stillness, thank God for the ability to dream,

George








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