Life is what happens
What a long, strange life it’s been.
Childhood and adolescence were close to normal,
I never felt quite right,
Never fit my image of a normal kid
Dealing with internal demons for so many years.
Adolescence was hell,
The fucking dybbuks took control
Internally screaming, “your not good enough”, “your shit”,
Externally, manifesting as cystic acne, ugly, festering sores
Then long hair, drugs and rock n roll
Feelings of compassion, and forgiveness,i
For awhile the voices got quieter,
Infrequent periods of contentment,
First love, and then the Voices were back
Alcohol, anger, self-hatred
Move away! Leave L.A.!
Transplant to Sonoma County
Twenty-three years old, alone, frightened.
A period of relief, enjoyment, discovery,
The search had begun!
A time of growth, feelings of great love, for life, for spirit, for myself
Politics grabs hold,
Open to new friends,
Seeing myself as worthy to be loved.
Christine, daughter of the Motor City,
Nancy Marie, the wild one,
And then she picked me up hitchhiking.
How do you measure a life?
Marriage, children, many good years.
But the demons reappear,
This time as a progressive, degenerative disease
I watch the life I thought I knew, disintegrate little by little
until I’m stripped close to the bone
And I watch
Three decades spent creating a structure,
A way of being, a persona, a box,
In which to place all our pre-conceptions
About love, family, commitment, hopes and dreams.
Like Schopenhauer’s “Will to Live”, life moves on,
Refusing to address the petty personal dreams, wishes, and prayers
Focusing instead on the perpetuation of a far less then perfect species