Suicide

imagine

Reading a lot about suicide lately I began to wonder, instead of Anthony Bourdain, what it would take for me to do the deed, because at one time in my youth I could have. When I was younger (in the late 60’s) I went through a time when I thought it would be a good idea to off myself, but then I ran away from my problem and got stoned for a couple of years instead.

When I got older I realized that the suicidal thoughts began because I had expected too much from this decidedly fractured society. I was too good for this place and I was drowning in a huge portion of self pity and self righteousness.

I had the strong belief in America and the people who ran it . . . false deduction #1.

I had a strong belief that my marriage was ordained by God and my ex and I were solidly behind one another . . . false deduction #2.

I believed that I was a tough guy who could handle anything . . . false deduction #3.

I wanted to kill myself and make a statement to everybody for taking me for granted. This act would teach them all a good lesson. . . false deduction #4

I wanted to kill myself because I thought I had reached the end of my rope and had nowhere else to turn .  . . wrong deduction #5

One day after a strong psychedelic experience, after a ‘coming to Jesus’ experience, after dropping all that religious stuff and having a ‘coming to Jim’ experience . . . I began to see our lives here on this dimension had never been created for our ease or our prosperity . . . we were here to learn and to experience as much as possible during our short stay upon these shores.

I learned that karma rules the affairs of men and as I give I will receive. No longer looking for love, I began to see how necessary it was to share to the best of my ability the love that I have within myself with others.

I learned that I was responsible for my actions and if I found myself behind the eightball, chances were I had placed myself there. I quit being a victim and worked towards being a warrior . . . not as I did earlier in my life, but in a spiritual sense. Not in over the top religion, but by quietly following the pathway called kindness. Not by making a spectacle of myself in any direction, but by being there for anyone who crossed my path. (regardless of race, color or creed).

Today as an old man I see nothing but chaos surrounding me in every direction and I seldom leave the confines of my front porch . . . but if anybody comes by I will sit and talk with them, give them a beer or a cup coffee and listen to their complaints without judgement or preachy direction. . . and that old lady who just smacked me in the ass with her grocery cart? I will spin around and give her a smile (though a bit disingenuous)

Today life is great and suicide is far from my mind because I know this life has never been meant to be a rose garden, . . . it’s a battlefield brother, not a recreation room. It’s a fight and not a game. When I fall down, I’m gonna get up because I didn’t start out to play . . . I think we need to learn that.

 

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