Handy Hardware

Hi!  Been a while! Few weeks maybe? Not like I had any excuse not to write but well I suppose life pushed me another way.  I’ll be honest with you, I’m not a fan of breaking bones.  The feature photo is pretty much a testament to that.  No, no, no that was nine years ago.  However, recently I did take an unfortunate “intentional” spill while roller skating.  Intentional as in I had to “or else” type of a deal.  A little girl came literally out of nowhere!  I couldn’t even think, just drop, and as it had been about 30yrs since I last fell, I was not used to it and landed exactly how I shouldn’t have.  Brace my fall when I hit the ground and…ouch.  Small fracture on my right wrist with a cast for a few weeks to boot.  I remember in the moment thinking how bad it hurt but at the same time a sigh of relief that I didn’t ruin that little girl’s day.  I tried to act cool, shook it off, continued on, and on, and on until it really started throbbing.  Yes, I need to leave.  As I was unlacing, I knew right away that I had to go to the hospital.  Couldn’t move my hand.  I was like, Oh crap. So, a cast and a few weeks excusing myself from typing things.  I’ll be honest though; I was not happy about the cast.  I wanted to gnaw it off.  It even slightly depressed me. Me. ME?  I thought it was impossible, but it happened and after a week or so, I knew there was a lesson here for me. Take a step back, Ben, and then a few more steps back. Slow down.  I really did not have to be going as fast as I was when the little girl came out.  Not necessary.  I’m more about precision and finesse. I am ready to go back.

Nine years ago, I had to learn a lot of lessons.  The main thing I was learning was how to feel sorry for myself.  Lessons in pain management without prescription medication (not a fan). On the right-hand side of the photo above of my left, not so funny, humerus, is the first surgery.  A rod, two pins at the shoulder and elbow areas. I spent six months pretty much suffering in silence.  No clue that the double fracture was not even healing.  No union.  It wasn’t until my brigade surgeon asked me when my last x-ray was…I was like, oh man, ummm right after the surgery.  No follow-ups and I am generally too stubborn to go to the doctor as, “I got this”.  I didn’t.  A second surgery to install a plate with a bunch of screws, bone from my hip, and a heck of a scar.  I remember at the time that the doctor’s orders were to have the plate removed after 18 months.  By that time, I was stateside again, and when I went into orthopedics at Fort Sill, they were adamant that it was not coming out.  Period. I absolutely refused to believe that. No way.  It’s coming out.  I was having these infrequent but frequent enough for concern issues where my arm would feel like an electric shock for a split second and I my arm would just go numb.  I’m like, I need a second opinion, this is BS.  There is a screw or screws that’s rubbing against the wrong thing in my arm to make it go kablooey.  I managed to convince the doc for a second opinion where I traveled down south to Fort Sam Houston and saw a traumatologist. He was probably the most intelligent sounding doctor to this day that I have ever come across. He told me he could take it out, but he also very clearly articulated what was going on in my arm. Scar tissue. The scar tissue was rubbing the radial nerve at times. He said that with another surgery the scar tissue would more than likely be exacerbated annnnnnnnnnnd…I could potentially lose the use of my arm permanently.

As Stan Lee was fond of saying, “’nuff said”. I spent the rest of the day in kind of a numb daze. The rest of my life. Within six months after that second opinion, my Shift occurred. I began living intentionally. I had used my arm as a crutch, an excuse for so many things, and deep down inside I knew it was BS. This hardware was a part of me now.  I decided that if was a part of me then I am a part of it. It is Me. No more wallowing in self-pity. I’m a runner, a roller skater. My arms aid me in my momentum. My arms are my wings. In over six and a half years I have never had any more arm numbing experiences.

There is a profound sense of well-being when you Surrender. I am not giving up.  I Let Go and Let God.

Have a great week everyone!

I Am an INFJ

I had never heard of the Myers-Briggs personality test until I went to my “majors” school (CGSC) at Fort Leavenworth in the summer of 2015.  Apparently, they like to get a little psychological snapshot assessment of the students before the school year starts.  It turned out that I was the only INFJ in my small group (15 of us per classroom).  Not the only introvert to be sure but it interested me to dive a little deeper into what this extra label I took on meant to me.

Famous INFJ’s include Oprah, Nelson Mandela and……Adam Sandler?  Interesting.  Allegedly this particular group I fell into is a very small percentage of the world, 1-2%.  Wow.  Made sense why I felt so utterly different than the majority, however, it was only two short years before this test that I found I was on more the empathic side.  Funny how INFJ’s have been called, The Mystic, The Counselor, and………Empath.  So, I was like, Ohhhhhh ok, my labels have all kind of merged together in the same group, INFJ.

There was something else about this INFJ/Empath that helped me get through all my school years, Marines, Army, virtually everything.  The Chameleon.  I suppose it’s kind of like a natural defense mechanism where I was always able to blend in so well.  Except for the past few years.  I dropped the defense and just allowed Me to come through.  When I had my Shift in consciousness, I was able to finally stand in my own strength of Who I Am without fear of repercussion of trying to “fit in” anymore.

It was humorous though when someone in our small group at CGSC found something about the Star Wars character equivalence to the 16 Myers-Briggs personality traits.  Good ole Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Counselor.  Wait, not just Obi-Wan! From Star Wars: A New Hope, we first meet him as Ben Kenobi.  Hey!  I’m Ben too!  Perfect.

Have a wonderful day, my friends, and if you are an INFJ reading this and are having problems in life then please feel free to drop me a line! Wait a minute, it doesn’t matter if you are an INFJ or not. ANYone having any problems dealing with anything and would like some outside, neutral guidance, then please feel free to drop a line 🙂

Dreaming Reality

I know what you’re thinking.  This is a blog post about our reality being a dream 😊.  Well…yes, of course!  No, not really, but sometimes I wonder about the nature of our reality / consciousness etc…Here though I am just looking at one particular instance / experience in my life that for some reason I could never forget.  Something from my very early childhood and virtually one of my earliest memories.

I never met my biological father.  My mom met / dated him in college, he got her pregnant, and left her.  She was on track to becoming a schoolteacher but dropped out for a while to have me and spend time for my first couple of years before she went back to college.  She brought me with her to Ashland College (now Ashland University) in Ohio for her last year or so.  We lived in a duplex house (of sorts), but we had to share the bathroom with the people living on the other side of the house.  Weird, but I guess when you’re a financially struggling college student you must make do.

We slept on a pull-out couch bed in the living room and one night something woke me up.  I sat up and there was a monstrous looking man standing at the end of the bed and holding what looked like a cinder block over his head.  He was angry.  He wanted to crush me with the block but for some reason he couldn’t and that was making him even more angry.  Before I could say or do anything, there was a comforting voice, “Lay back down…”. My mom was just laying there sleeping undisturbed.  I felt safe.  Not scared at all.  I laid back down and went back to sleep…

My entire life up until circa post-Shift 2013, I had always attributed this “memory” as a dream I had as a child.  What a vivid dream to keep with me all these years.  It wasn’t until 2013 that it hit me.  It was never a dream.  I saw “something”, some manifested apparition, or whatever.  My grandmother had told me a story about a significant event that happened back in that college time with just me and my mom but for some reason I never really made any correlations between the “dream” I had and this particular event.  So, it wasn’t until many many years later, and years after my mom had passed as well back in 2005 that I had a conversation with my great aunt about it.  Because she was there…

Every now and then my grandma and her youngest sister (by 20yrs!) would make the 3hr drive to Ashland to visit my mom and I.  One Saturday morning, as my aunt recalls, my grandma wakes up with this “feeling” that she needed to come visit us.  A bit impromptu for sure as my aunt and her always made plans well in advance.  She called my aunt and asked her if she wouldn’t mind going on a trip to see Jeannie and Ben (this is in 1973 and we didn’t have a phone in our duplex for grandma to call us).  Of course she would, as she had no plans that day.

They arrived a little while later in the morning and saw my mom’s little yellow Vega out front.  Knocked on the door, no answer.  Pounded on the door and nothing.  My aunt walked across the front porch and put her eyes to the glass to look inside and saw me and my mom sleeping on the pull-out couch and shortly after that she smelled it.  Gas.  They broke the front window to rescue us.  I don’t remember any of that.  Zilch.  Seems like such an impactful event that I would have to remember it, right? (or I was really “out of it” from the gas…) Anyway…there was literally a fire department right across the street from our duplex and my aunt ran over there for help.  We had a kitten.  She didn’t make it.  Strange but I do remember my mom and I burying her in the backyard.  It was the gas stove that was the culprit.  Hose came out or cracked…?

After the Shift in 2013, I began seeing and experiencing the world much differently.  That time in my life came back to me and finally made sense.  A negative spirit or entity wanted to end my life and found a way to do so, however, a protective entity (angel?) was there to watch over me and even…send Help.

Now the notion of spirits and angelic beings is not for everyone.  Got it.  For me, and from my Perspective since 2013, it is a part of my Reality. 

Bless!

Canyon Lake Retreat – The Deep Faith

And here I sit contemplating at Canyon Lake Resort (4 Apr 14), The Deep Faith.  I can Hear the Quiet watching.  Always Watching.  Non-interference.  Just always waiting for…the Next, and the Next, and the Next.  (There is a certain humor there that I am hesitant to discuss in the moment).  This Quiet Always Stillness Presence just IS.  No judgement.  Just THERE.  I know that it is the basis where the Voice manifests.  I had come to refer to It (me) as my Higher-Self.  And I know without question or doubt that this Awareness is Infinite.  It is God.  That aspect of God individualized in Me.  Take a microscopic molecule of water from the vast ocean.  The ocean is still there in that tiny spec, just individualized.  My Spirit, my Soul, the tiniest molecule removed from the Infinite Vastness of Source, of God. 

As Above, so below.

The same applies here as to the other two aspects (Body, Mind).  Laying the Foundation, continue to build, creating newer and even stronger foundations.  The daily reminder.  Prayer – Meditation.  You cannot fully live in the external 3-D world unless you live in, explore, and fully express The Great Within.

Canyon Lake Retreat – The Spirit (2014 writings continued)

The Stillness within.  The Serenity that is.  I finally found mySelf about a year ago.  Four months after The SHIFT.  I had been feeling this Presence more and more profoundly.  What is This?  When finally, the Voice spoke up.  This is Peace.  I “knew” this Feeling.  I remembered.  It had been so long.  Since I was a baby.  The continuous distractions thrown at us forces us to forget as we struggle to “keep up” with the reality presented to us.  Purifying my body, training my mind, allowed me to remember who I am.  So, one day after having come to terms with the Stillness that was always there, lying in bed, I asked the question.  THE QUESTION.  Who Am I?  The response came back with such profound depth and surety.   I Am Good.  The tears flowed immediately.  It was something else that I forgot.  I always knew I was good (as a little boy).  I grew up and battled “the distractions”, the negatives.  Amnesia followed.  We have forgotten so much.  Meditation is necessary.  You need to allow time for your Self.  Even if it is just allowing yourself to breathe.  A daily connection to You.  And Prayer.  I am not religious.  Spiritual.  So, after several months of prayer and meditation I began to Feel something else stirring.  When I asked about it the answer I received was…The Deep Faith.