I Know This Pain

I know it all too well now - to the extent that I may finally grasp the necessary, magnificent burdens

Melvin Arthur Johnson (March 29, 1930 - June 10, 2012) - Happy Cosmic Birthday Mel - You deserve a much better memory than the feeble one I possess.

Today (at this writing), is my late Stepfather’s birthday. March 29, 1930. Mel was an important Father figure in my life for approximately 34 years – synchronistically and coincidentally, about the same amount of time my (late) biological Father, Donald Paul Fleming (1931 - 2000), was part of my life. One of my great regrets (thus far) is that I parted with Him (Mel) – during the days leading-up to His transition – in a way fraught with immense pain. Pain brought-about by my behavior – my incessant need at the time (and to a great degree even still) to be “right.” My arrogance.  And no matter my thought “noble intent” of this behavior, my “witnessing,” my words, I made Him extremely upset – on His death bed. And this was our last interaction, our last “meeting,” in this life. The pain of this cuts deep. Deeper than I have words to adequately describe. That I caused this man so much distress as He lay dying is something for which I am incredibly ashamed.

I was attempting to “reconcile” some deep, dark Shadow material of my family. Trying to appropriately illuminate and contextualize a painful history of abuse and trauma – in the original family unit – that of my Mother and biological Father and siblings – as it pertained to and centered around the sexual abuse of my sister. I was trying to persuade Him to “see” the error of a (His) decision to effectively “banish” my sister from His and my Mother’s home (and lives) – regardless of His perceptions of her. During this “family meeting” around His hospital (hospice) bed, set up in the living room of their home in Henderson, NV – I tried to “patch things up” between Him and my (absent) sister – purely (and selfishly) for my Mother’s benefit. I was trying to get Him to “see” that by banishing my sister – that He was banishing the only family who lived close to my Mother – the only person who could best help, support, and look after her – now that she was to be widowed. And my now late Mother needed looking after, as Her own health and quality of life was deteriorating. She lived-on 10 more years mostly alone and independent – but not without needing support.

I was told to leave and instructed never to return. And my Mother was told to disavow me as well - and she followed (honored) Her husband’s wishes and instructions for a time – even striking me from their Will (as the Executor) at her husband’s behest. It took me some time to reconcile with my Mother, but she knew deep down what I was trying to do in that fateful “family meeting,” and that Mel had acted rashly – even if His own purposes were to “protect” my Mother from what he perceived as unforgivable toxicity in my eldest brother, my sister - and now me. Just the same, the pain I created had a lasting effect and it “reverberated” throughout all our lives (the “family”) and particularly mine – even to this day. Being “written-out” of their Will (as the Executor) meant that I would be denied doing what I thought was best – what I thought my Mother (and Mel for that matter) would have wanted – their Highest Selves - when it came time for Her own passing. And while the “legalities” on paper were irrefutable - that my Mother had wished to change them, and only ran out of time, was yet more pain “served-up” in this long, sad story.

For months, and even just days before Her passing, She wanted to change the Will / Estate Executorship back to me – and I told Her not to worry about it – as I knew it was an upsetting situation for Her - having to “confront” my sister-in-law (and by association, my brother) who was the current Executor - since having been ratified Estate Executor upon Mel’s instructions back in 2012. I was the Estate Executor prior to this. And now someone who wasn’t even an immediate family member was going to handle the estate - a prospect that didn’t sit well with me at all. Regardless of the obvious association of her (my sister-in-law) and my brother. That was the problem! I simply wanted to spare Her any more upset, any more unnecessary pain, as she lay in such distress, in such suffering. And I didn’t think she was going to die! My denial of what should have been obvious was very strong. My Mother was a “procrastinator extraordinaire,” (and reflexively avoided conflict) and we simply ran out of time. And now, I am left with not only regret, but also another, painful aspect of my “forgiveness journey,” of the need to forgive even Her.

And now, the result of all this pain is that I am an “orphan.” That I have decided (for now?) to estrange my siblings - to “banish” them from my life. I was the only one present at the side of my Mother when She passed through the veils. And while that was My Great Honor, it was also my great burden. To not have any family - anyone else - present to witness Her passing - and to provide mutual support in the midst of such a thing - is something (indifference? cruelty? callousness?) with which I am still struggling. The “forgiveness journey” is ostensibly never ending.

Joy Lynn (Wiley-Fleming) Johnson, My Mother, RIP (October 28, 1935 - October 25, 2022)

All Gone Now: Donald Paul Fleming, Melvin Arthur Johnson, Joy Lynn Wiley-Fleming-Johnson

There is something about great grief and the immense, associated, unfathomable pain. It occurs to me that when a certain “chord” with pain is struck in our being – all the pain we carry inside – no matter how deep or long buried – sympathetically resonates. It doesn’t appear to be that way with joy – at least in my experience. I think it may be because the “resonant pain” is revealing itself as having yet been “healed.” That a “complex” of great pain, great grief is revealed as having yet been appropriately processed. Many these days speak of “integration,” and I suppose that could be a way to describe these phenomena – but that idea doesn’t completely land with me. I have more-so evolved into an experience, resulting belief, and an orientation whereby these “painful, resonant frequencies” must be endured – they must be carried – they must be “Held.” They are simply a part of who we are. They are our “magnificent burdens.” And I believe it is Our Great Honor to carry them.

“My Great Lord, please hear my petition: I Pray for Great Strength. Great Strength of body, mind, heart, emotions, energies, Soul, and Spirit. I Pray for Great Strength to protect, provide-for, and Serve my Beloveds. Great Strength to bear the magnificent burdens of my life. And Great Strength, for when it is time, to gratefully, graciously, and gracefully put my burdens down.” ~ B.F.

Temet Nosce. Amor Fati. Memento Mori.

Praise Be To Hanuman
The Breath, Great Servant, and Hammer of R-A-M-A and S-I-T-A

Lefty - My Great Hanuman-ji - RIP (July 17, 2005 - December 21, 2017)

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Striking that chord… (I Know This Pain)

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Let life humble you.

Leonard Cohen said his teacher once told him that, the older you get, the lonelier you become, and the deeper the love you need. This is because, as we go through life, we tend to over-identify with being the hero of our stories.

This hero isn’t exactly having fun: he’s getting kicked around, humiliated, and disgraced. But if we can let go of identifying with him, we can find our rightful place in the universe, and a love more satisfying than any we’ve ever known.

People constantly throw around the term “hero’s journey” without having any idea what it really means. Everyone from CEOs to wellness influencers thinks the hero’s journey means facing your fears, slaying a dragon, and gaining 25k followers on Instagram. But that’s not the real hero’s journey.

In the real hero’s journey, the dragon slays YOU. Much to your surprise, you couldn’t make that marriage work. Much to your surprise, you turned forty with no kids, no house, and no prospects. Much to your surprise, the world didn’t want the gifts you proudly offered it.

If you are foolish, this is where you will abort the journey and start another, and another, abusing your heart over and over for the brief illusion of winning. But if you are wise, you will let yourself be shattered, and return to the village, humbled, but with a newfound sense that you don’t have to identify with the part of you that needs to win, needs to be recognized, needs to know. This is where your transcendent life begins.

So embrace humility in everything. Life isn’t out to get you, nor are your struggles your fault. Every defeat is just an angel, tugging at your sleeve, telling you that you don’t have to keep banging your head against the wall. Leave that striver there, trapped in his lonely ambitions. Just walk away, and life in its vastness will embrace you.

~ Paul Weinfield