“Breathing in, I calm body and mind. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment, I know this is the only moment” Thich Nhat Hahn

I feel like beginning with this past Wednesday (6/28), which is really me having this experience right now, actually then, if you  want to split hairs.You, however, have to wait until the rest of this tale is told, having no idea where it’s going, I swear.

I had just gotten back home, after a week away, visiting my son, daughter-in-law and darling grandson. The story I am going to be telling has everything to do with becoming unglued and coming back together again.

Yesterday was my first full day back on island. Instinctively, I knew I had to go fishing to find myself again. I stood on the pier, eyes closed, facing the warm setting sun. In those moments, it was a startling internal experience. I disappeared into what I saw and felt. My beautiful island was hugging me and welcoming me home. I felt the difference right then, like returning to myself after having been away.

Here’s where i really screw up any hope for order. I knew I had found a happy ending with which to begin, because of everything that brought me to sharing this story with you. I unconsciously felt my new found love of fishing would steady my emotional ship, hopelessly floundering in the Sea of Anxiety & Trepidation.

As I set up, down on the pier, my special music began singing out of my right, breast pocket, which is as close as I want it to get, when I am fishing. Yes, I am one with Neptune! For me, it is a wonderful background, filling in my all too many lapses in consciousness. I guess that is one of the reasons that music and I have been inseparable for so many, many years. It’s those damn lapses.

The first music out of my pocket was James Taylor’s You’ve Got A Friend. It felt so sweet and welcoming, as I got into my world-famous pose, ready to launch the first cast. Once you throw it out there, you just fiddle with the reel, as if you know what the fuck you’re doing. The exact second I cast, I suddenly became the poster child for all things peaceful and life embracing.

Listen, I’m no dime store Edith Piaf. Shamelessly,  I am about happy endings, including the massage parlor parlance. Who the fuck needs me to puke hopelessness on every page? The Buddha has told me too many times, my job is to help others cross to the other shore, a metaphor for the true happy ending,  the search for meaning and finding it. There are no rules for how you go about doing it, either. So, here we are.

Years ago, when I first started BPMeds, the initial prescription was a nut cracker. I was convinced that whatever i was taking was driving me out of my freakin’ mind. For the record, as many of you know, powerful meds can have collateral impacts of all kinds, with lists around the corner. I switched and have been fine ever since. Of course I have an extremely loose definition of fine.

Within the past few months, i finally checked in with my new Doc. Apparently, I am as good as I can be for where I am, which I’ll take any day. He made a very compelling case for switching my current BPMed, which we did. The damn stuff was doing its job and I was seriously relieved.

I can’t pin point exactly when I started thinking I needed an exorcism. I want to tell you what going crazy can feel like.You are obsessed with every little thing that happens. It is all you can think about and you can’t hear anyone else. You’re convinced no one gives a shit about how indescribably awful you feel. You have no patience, lying prostrate on a razor’s edge, terrified to move.

I was within inches of cancelling my trip. If you have any fucken idea how much I love my grandson, I’d would go in an urn if I had to. How’s that? I behaved the best I could, sharing something of this beginning with them. God Bless my grandson. He is at such a beautifully awkward time, in both body and mind. I felt my own kind of awkwardness. I don’t think we were a horrible match in that regard, just for this visit.

Finally, we are that time where we turn the corner in the narrative. Having shared my history with this kind of medication, I just stopped taking it about half way through my stay with the family. I didn’t care if there was any risk involved. To me, without mind, there is no life, or at least one I want.

When I started writing this story on Wednesday, I knew I had a doctor’s appointment on Saturday, which i figured would really bring some closure. I pretty much shared this entire story with him, right up to this moment. He’s a terrific guy. I have complete confidence in him.

He took out a magic marker and proceeded to write a lesson for me. He did it on the layer of tissue that protects the table. I should have taken a picture, but I was way more interested in listening. After crossing out varieties of these type of drugs and drawing arrows around others, we selected the replacement. The rationale for his process of elimination was fascinating. I am pretty sure we nailed the culprit, too. There is no question, I’ll be fine, the loose definition once again.

This whole idea and its progression, started when I was sitting on my cushion, my first morning back. Yes, it is that same damn Wednesday again. I started to feel familiar to myself. “Wait, I know this guy.” Seamlessly, I flowed into the rhythm of my breath. It is that pause between, when time stops and you are right there. With each pause, I felt as if I was reconnecting with myself. The idea of fishing later in the day was perfect, the affirmation I desperately needed to seal the deal for my return to myself. It is when I decided to tell this story from end to beginning.

I am so happy I got to share all of this with you. If any of this felt confusing, imagine living it? Life is perplexing for all of us. I love that split-second between breaths, a fraction of time, a companion forever.

I am fine.