This Afternoon In A Quiet Way
Today I found out that one of my friends from highschool took his own life. I was immediately hit with that poignant, suffocating emotion that always comes when learning of the death of someone I know personally. I am far away from my hometown, far away from people who know him too, so I was calling anyone I could think of from Florida. I was desperate to express my shock, my sadness, and my memories with someone who could identify personally with them too. I didn't (couldn't) cry, and I tried to be as comforting as possible when I was on the phone with my friends who were really upset. Then came the point where I wanted to be alone to feel my grief, and to do some kind of ritual, some kind of acknowledgement to my friend's life and to his journey onward.
This afternoon, in a quiet way, I told the wonderful women that live with me what happened, and they understood what I was going through. So I was free to fill a plastic bag with sweet, milky plumeria flowers I picked from the trees in the orchard, and I walked down to Vanessa's Beach. There were two dark-skinned, tattooed locals fishing in the shallows, and a very tan blonde woman ran by me with a big smile, but other than that the little beach was all mine. A storm squall was blowing in across the ocean from the southeast, and the wind picked up as I kneeled and placed the flowers before me.
I prayed for my friend that killed himself, I prayed for all of his friends and family, and I prayed for me as well. I prayed to God asking that any relief that could be, would be given to the grieving people still on earth. I thought about all of the memories I had with him, like when we would hangout in highschool. He had a stick shift car, and I had never seen anyone drive manual before, so at fifteen I was very impressed that he used his left hand to steer the wheel and shift gears so he could always hold my hand with his right. He took me on my first real date, picking me up from my house at 7 and paying for the movie and popcorn.
After I enjoyed all the wonderful summery memories, I gave the flowers, now prayers, to the ocean. I gave them to my God, releasing me from any regret.
As I was walking back to my house, the sun came out and shone in thick chunks on the soft green of the mountains. I was suddenly hit with a wave of gratitude and appreciation for my life, for the fact that I never have to go to the place where my friend was when he killed himself. That hopeless, faithless place, where it appears as if life will never get any better. I spent an entire year there, and entertained suicidal thoughts often. I would wake up in the mornings with a sigh of frustration and a pit of anxiety in my chest at the fact I hadn't died in my sleep and I was going to have to face another day. Living with that kind of depression is not really living- it is a half life, a shadow of what is intended for us as Divine Beings.
I have been feeling this incredible appreciation for my life all day, and now as I sit on my couch in the warm lamplight with the Hawaiian stars spread above me and my 'ohana around me, I wonder Why me? Why was I chosen to be plucked from the depths of atheism and depression and brought to this extraordinary level of existence? For some reason I was chosen to discover AA and the 12 Steps, and consequently to save my own life, with my Higher Power's help. I've heard people share in meetings before, voicing the same "Why?!" questions I am now. Why him? Why her? Why me?
I've alive and working the program of Alcoholics Anonymous for some reason, and I hope its to help other young people discover that drinking and using brings nothing but depression and chaos... a half life, really. What happened to my friend could have easily been me. I was so close to that place 8 1/2 months ago, where I believed that I could never change and there was no real Goodness in the world. But today, because of AA and the people I have met through the program, and because of the spiritual existence I live, I am truly happy. I know serenity and peace and faith, I know complete acceptance from other people, and I finally accept my own humanness as well, and I am beginning to know humility and forgiveness. Life is good, all is well, and I'm so grateful to be alive.
This afternoon, in a quiet way, I told the wonderful women that live with me what happened, and they understood what I was going through. So I was free to fill a plastic bag with sweet, milky plumeria flowers I picked from the trees in the orchard, and I walked down to Vanessa's Beach. There were two dark-skinned, tattooed locals fishing in the shallows, and a very tan blonde woman ran by me with a big smile, but other than that the little beach was all mine. A storm squall was blowing in across the ocean from the southeast, and the wind picked up as I kneeled and placed the flowers before me.
I prayed for my friend that killed himself, I prayed for all of his friends and family, and I prayed for me as well. I prayed to God asking that any relief that could be, would be given to the grieving people still on earth. I thought about all of the memories I had with him, like when we would hangout in highschool. He had a stick shift car, and I had never seen anyone drive manual before, so at fifteen I was very impressed that he used his left hand to steer the wheel and shift gears so he could always hold my hand with his right. He took me on my first real date, picking me up from my house at 7 and paying for the movie and popcorn.
After I enjoyed all the wonderful summery memories, I gave the flowers, now prayers, to the ocean. I gave them to my God, releasing me from any regret.
As I was walking back to my house, the sun came out and shone in thick chunks on the soft green of the mountains. I was suddenly hit with a wave of gratitude and appreciation for my life, for the fact that I never have to go to the place where my friend was when he killed himself. That hopeless, faithless place, where it appears as if life will never get any better. I spent an entire year there, and entertained suicidal thoughts often. I would wake up in the mornings with a sigh of frustration and a pit of anxiety in my chest at the fact I hadn't died in my sleep and I was going to have to face another day. Living with that kind of depression is not really living- it is a half life, a shadow of what is intended for us as Divine Beings.
I have been feeling this incredible appreciation for my life all day, and now as I sit on my couch in the warm lamplight with the Hawaiian stars spread above me and my 'ohana around me, I wonder Why me? Why was I chosen to be plucked from the depths of atheism and depression and brought to this extraordinary level of existence? For some reason I was chosen to discover AA and the 12 Steps, and consequently to save my own life, with my Higher Power's help. I've heard people share in meetings before, voicing the same "Why?!" questions I am now. Why him? Why her? Why me?
I've alive and working the program of Alcoholics Anonymous for some reason, and I hope its to help other young people discover that drinking and using brings nothing but depression and chaos... a half life, really. What happened to my friend could have easily been me. I was so close to that place 8 1/2 months ago, where I believed that I could never change and there was no real Goodness in the world. But today, because of AA and the people I have met through the program, and because of the spiritual existence I live, I am truly happy. I know serenity and peace and faith, I know complete acceptance from other people, and I finally accept my own humanness as well, and I am beginning to know humility and forgiveness. Life is good, all is well, and I'm so grateful to be alive.
