In a commercial for Volvo trucks, Jean-Claude Van Damme, long time martial arts and meditation practitioner, finds his center and keeps it in the midst of moving forces.
In a commercial for Volvo trucks, Jean-Claude Van Damme, long time martial arts and meditation practitioner, finds his center and keeps it in the midst of moving forces.
We are our experiences, and sometimes we find something that can help us to a different shore. Earlier this year, I went to a panel discussion given by poets. Two poets were of interest to me –in part because of their work, but also because of their backgrounds.
Both have well developed and prestigious careers. Dana Gioia’s career included a term as the head of the National Endowment for the Arts. During his term, he oversaw the effort known as Operation Homecoming: Writing the War Experience. Operation Homecoming took place at over 25 bases both CONUS and OCONUS. Writers and volunteers came to take families and troops through writers workshops. It was a huge project that culminated with an anthology, a documentary, and a website that still stands on the PBS. The workshops resulted in works that encompassed poetry, fiction, memoirs, letters, journals and essays. It is one of the best coordinated artistic efforts that involved big government, volunteers, and many others who made the machinery run. What did the troops and families get? A chance to find their voice and be heard. I can’t help but think that Dana Gioia had a personal reason for doing this: his sister is a soldier in the Army
The other poet grew up in the Navy, moving from base to base. I don’t want to make any assumptions how growing up military shaped his life, but his career has covered a lot of territory. He was the Director of the American Academy of American Poets, is a professor at a university, publishes books of poetry, and even writes for publications like The Atlantic. Anyway, Henri Cole is the reason I’m writing this. What he said during the talk was that “Writing isn’t healing.”
Over the years, I’ve heard, “Writing is therapeutic, it’s healing,” used to the point of senselessness. As if your PTSD will disappear, or your migraines are will stop. I asked him about it after. If writing is healing, why do so many people keep at it past the point when they’ve gotten their original story out? Healing isn’t a simple thing.
At every writing workshop at UCLA, there were people who were exorcising some part of their life onto the page. The childhood actor, the lawyer who wished she weren’t a lawyer, the bubbly writer with the funny family, the guy for whom alienation is his security. We tried to rectify something in our past, even if we were writing fiction. Writing is an obsession, a compulsive act. Some want to tell stories. Others want to make art. The good ones do both. Thus, the elusive peck for the perfect sentence, the perfect page, the perfect chapter, the perfect book. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Writing as healing might be a pretty high claim. It’s not magic. Crafting prose is takes every ounce or patience and humility you can find. It can be frustrating, and there’s always the inner and real-life critics to face. However, where I’ve found the most satisfaction (and where the discoveries lie) is in the process of editing.
Writing is like this: Stuff on the page, lots of it, and in no particular order. Editing is re-examining what you’ve written, and putting it in an order that makes sense to you (and hopefully to the reader too). You take things out, you put things in. You kick yourself, and sometimes you can’t see. But you dive into it again, because deep down, your story has to get out. So you chop sentences up, combine others, find new words altogether. But it’s less a fixation on one event, as it is taking it apart, rebuilding a scene, and finding a more logical way to make it work, make it understandable. Often you build a bit of distance between what happened, and where you are now.
What happened will still be painful. The violence and tragedy will not have gone away. The loss will still be felt. But by culling over the words, you begin to see things in a way that gives you a little distance. And sometimes, it’s that little glimmer that might give you the ability to cope a little differently. This is the part that makes you more self-assured. Maybe this in itself is healing.
Which brings me to the Veterans Play Project. I’m not sure we should get too hung up about whether this was healing or therapeutic. Rather, we should be very pleased these veterans are reaching out to an audience through art.
If you’re anywhere near Ft. Snelling MN, catch this production, and be proud of the men and women who went through the process of writing, rewriting, going through a critique, writing it again, and are now willing to share it with others. We shouldn’t just be proud, we should be enthusiastic about their drive, and for facing not only their memories, but that blank white screen to get their story just right. There’s courage in this, too.
Get your tickets. Go. And then come back here and tell us about it.
Tim was on my mind the other day, after I received an email from Father Patrick Deen of the Milton Margai School For The Blind in Freetown. This was the school that Tim loved and helped. He wanted to let me know that they have a Facebook page devoted to their new Scouting program. Later, I flipped through one of Tim’s books, and couldn’t help but make a comparison in composition. Here’s a photograph that Tim took in “Long Story Bit By Bit, Liberia Retold.” (Yes, that’s my hand. I was holding it up against the microwave).
Jump forward to this one, taken during his last days in Libya.
Two people involved with the events, and people around them. There’s more depth, but for now, just the observation, and a reminder to keep going. (Follow us on Facebook).
“You are far from the end of your journey, The way is not in the sky, The way is in the heart, See how you love.” –The Buddha
Honoring the Path of the Warrior holds several outdoor-based retreats for veterans every year. Sometimes they go white river rafting, other times, it’s a retreat at zen monastery. Developed by veterans for veterans, each retreat offers the unique chance to reconnect with other vets, and regain the camaraderie while finding peace in natural surroundings. After days of being in nature, getting back into everyday life can be a challenge. How do you keep that feeling of security and calm with you?
Moving from community and retreat space and into our individual lives and concerns provides an opportunity to practice the tools and skills that we learned together.
Remember to be patient and kind with yourself – it’s called ‘practice’ because we’re always learning and growing. Mistakes are part of how we learn if we pay attention and reflect on what happened.
“The Army might screw you and your girlfriend might dump you and the enemy might kill you,but the shared commitment to safeguard one another’s lives is unnegotiable and only deepens with time.The willingness to die for another person is a form of love that even religions fail to inspire, and the experience of it changes a person profoundly.”
Yeah, I know. You’re circling the yoga studio in your car, not sure if you really want to go in. Everyone walking in seems so… bouncy, and they’re smiling, and what the heck are they happy about? Plus, you’ve seen the “7-Days of Gratitude” started on FB, and a few of your friends have even posted things they’re grateful for.
What a bunch of goody-two-shoes.
After all, you’re intense. You’ve seen the most extreme part of life. War, poverty, suffering, pain. Violence, tragedy and danger. You’re fierce in your beliefs, and so is everyone else you know. You walk on the earth. But those people who go around saying they’re grateful? You’re not so sure. Reality check?
You gun the engine, race ahead, trying to find a parking spot on the crowded street. Who the heck put this studio here, anyway? What fool thought to put it next to a Starbucks and a hot dog stand? You shake your head. Honestly, you like your intensity. And you don’t feel like “letting go.” Besides, what is that? Letting go. Do they think there’s a window in your brain to open, and your intensity will just go away? BIG LOUD AWFUL THINGS have shaped who you are now. And while there’s stuff you could do without –like the lack of sleep, or the reel that plays back and forth in your head …there were good things too. Like feeling you had a sense of direction, fighting for the person next to you, and knowing they’d do the same for you. Things were so certain ….and now? The only thing certain is everyone is talking about gratitude, and it kind of annoys you.
So now, you’re circling the block again, and you’re wondering…. yeah, you comprehend the meaning of gratitude. Life, liberty, pursuit of happiness means more than it did before you went to war. Some of your friends lost the chance at all three in a gritty battle or alone, at home, when hope had run out. Will they understand war ushered in the best friends of your life? That the brother and sisterhood is unquestioned? Yeah, sure, there was trauma, but there were funny things that still make you laugh. Will they get it? It was the best and worst time of your life, and you’d do it again (only this time you wouldn’t lose your best friend). Do they understand it was the intensity that kept you alive? Do they know how much it pisses you off to be tossed off as an ‘adrenaline junkie?’ It seemed that way, but you weren’t though it’d be a lie to say that war wasn’t exciting. You were fighting for the guy on your left and your right.
Finally, you find a spot. It’s three blocks away from the yoga studio, but it will do. You park, gather your stuff –the yoga mat with the wrapper still on it, and a towel. You follow the others with yoga mats strapped to their backs. Some look rushed and harried. One even walks into you and doesn’t say, “sorry.” So maybe some of these yoga people are assholes, which makes sense: in any given group, there’s always going to be one.
You reach the door, no time to hesitate, there are people behind you. But you remember one thing someone wrote here on WarRetreat:
We know you miss your war. It’s fine. We’re not asking you to become anyone else. If you’re already grateful, maybe you’ll find more. But no sane person is going to insist. And maybe you won’t like yoga. Maybe your thing is to climb a mountain, ride a bike, or write a poem.
You check in, find a spot. The music starts. You sit, and breathe. And then you do it again.
Sometimes we get so wrapped in war and the aftermath, we forget that our purpose in life is to be the best person we are, and to find the joy in it whenever we can. Sometimes, someone comes along unexpectedly to remind us.
A young man died on May 20. He wasn’t a veteran, he’d never been to war. He was a young man who had spent the last four years battling Osteo Sarcoma. Zach Sobiech touched millions with an incredible song he wrote about his own eminent journey into the clouds. But his journey is one for all of us to remember… “You don’t have to find out you’re dying to start living.” You can also find a moving account produced by Soul Pancake (a project by Rainn Wilson) in a mini-documentary on My Last Days.
To Zach. We at WarRetreat will always be grateful to you. We are so glad that music and creativity filled your days. A great song from a generous heart.
There is an unmistakable bond created between people who go through war. Veterans can pick out other veterans in street clothes, “just by the way we move,” said one to me not long ago. It’s a well know fact that the bond may be the deepest relationship they will ever form. It surpasses that of girlfriends, and wives (but maybe not their mothers). In an institution where one life relies upon the other without question, crossing over into the outside world can be particularly vexing. Mainly because we live in a nation increasingly rooted in cynicism. The problem is cynicism -even when laced with humor, can quickly turn into a negative view of the world that colors one’s outlook, and their ability to get things done.
But cynicism will isolate and kill us. In the long run, chronic cynics are tiresome. Negativity as a way of life is a destroyer, erodes values, and attracts habits (and people) toxic to us. But we can learn to identify and refuse to let them drag us down. We’re not talking about feet off the ground kind of happiness: the type of person who overlooks and ignores the unpleasantries or challenges of life. I hasten to say, those people might be less reliable than cynics. But there’s a way to get through the thick bog of cynicism, emerge with our feet on the ground. Let go of the cynicism by holding onto the values taught: Honor, Courage, Commitment. Living those is a far better navigational compass that leads to better coping. For these things are inclusive, they uphold values, and deflect the negative. It takes a lot of will, and breath will help you get there.
As you know, I’ve just finished up work on a new documentary called HIGH GROUND. It’s a film that will appeal to a lot of our readers. Set in the lushness of the Khumbu valley, and the dramatic 20,000 ft peak of Mt Lobuche, 11 wounded warriors and 1 Gold star and Blue Star mother make their way to the top. Along with lessons learned, the share their stories of war with the back drop of the Himalayas. Stunning. Stream in online through netflix, amazon, or iTunes, or bring it to your town by writing to me here at WarRetreat.
I wanted to wrap things up, and found this apt poem by Donald Justice. It describes the coming home of veterans in relation to coming down off a mountain.
The crisis always seems to happen at 4 AM. The neighbors never ask directly, but talk about you and your family anyway. Of course, there is the usual mix of things that don’t obviously go together –football, your shrink, and ball room dancing. Many military families will recognize these scenarios, and so it is on this familiar ground that the story unfolds in the film, Silver Linings Playbook. The film by Director David O. Russell and based on a book by Matthew Quick offers a glimpse into the life of Patrizio Solitano, Jr. “Pat” is finding his way to a new path, after emerging from a mental institution after the eruption of his Bipolar Disorder.
This is a film of humanity and truth. Those in the military family often feel they tread alone as they cope with the challenges of TBI, PTSD, depression, anxiety, or post combat stress reactions. Silver Linings Playbook brings a moment of relief as we see confirmation that someone else knows our path too. We recognize the moments of truth in the harried looks of the parents; or a crescendo of emotion brings cops and nosey neighbors to the door. It’s easy to root for Patrizio and his family because we know what it’s like when carefully laid plans are swept away by an outburst of chaos. But the best truth the film brings out is that while life is not easy, it’s not all horrible either. Silver Linings Playbook has a hopeful, yet uncertain ending. But that’s life, and we in the military family understand this.
For the director, David O. Russell, the film was a highly personal one as his teen age son has a mood disorder. Similarly, both Cooper and DeNiro have close family members they’ve spent time with as well. Watch the Silver Linings Playbook Interview.
Jillian and I know there are people who think war is wrong, and that veterans are brain washed automatons. What they often think of military spouses can be just as bad. We shrug because that’s simply the state of their mind and we don’t let it get in our way. Once in awhile, we can spark a revelation, but by and large to try to do that 24/7 would be a colossal waste of time. We thrive in this teeter-totter-technicolor world.
We focus on helping others, though we can’t ignore how much baggage is delivered at the yoga doorstep by well meaning yoga-doers. Recently a call was put out by It’s All Yoga Baby to boycott Hyatt Hotels, which is in a contractual disagreement over union matters, work conditions, as well as the firing of housekeepers to subcontract them at a lesser rate. The reason for this ire is that Yoga Journal has contracted to have their annual conference at the San Francisco Hyatt.
Regardless of what has happened internally at Hyatt, Yoga Journal has decided not to back out of their contractual agreement and go ahead. Does this make Yoga Journal anti-union? Should we assume yoga-doers will be pro-union? Does this make either side good or bad? Should everyone quit hunting for cheap rooms at 4-star hotels online pitting one website against another? Should they pay full price instead so higher wages may be paid? Does this mean they shouldn’t stay at that cute non-union trendy boutique hotel because it might pay lower wages and have equally difficult conditions?
To us, the bigger question is: Do we really want to lay that baggage on the yoga doorstep? WarRetreat is here to help people with bags staggeringly weighted with traumatic experiences. We think it’s unfair to ask them to haul anything more than a request to stretch and breathe. And even with that –one has to go softly.
We choose to let two big corporations work that shit out. This doesn’t mean we don’t care: rather, we accept there are more sides to every story, that our actions lead to imbalance in ways seen and unseen, and not everything will be to our liking. If it were, we probably wouldn’t like it anyway. Traction is only gained when we are uncomfortable.
But what we like is the response of former Army Infantry Officer, now founder of Operation Bootstrap. He’s also a yoga teacher and studio owner in Phoenix. Walrabenstein (who was once called a great XO by one of his men) wrote this in rebuttal to the boycott Hyatt post on the yoga blog, “It’s All Yoga Baby.”
We’ve gone ahead and lifted it, which was shortly posted on his Facebook page. Walrabenstein shoots with clean barrel, and his intellectual gun is smokin’ hot. (Though we did smirk when he felt compelled to confirm his compassion for the disenfranchised for the It’s All Yoga Baby readers. At WarRetreat, we don’t check for passports).
Dear Yoga Friends,
Let me start out by saying that I do in fact care about the disenfranchised. I do work to see a more just and compassionate world. And if I were in charge of the Yoga Journal conference, I would very likely change venues in support of those who are seeking a fair shake from the global giant Hyatt.
And thus, I stand shoulder to shoulder with those who are voicing their disappointment in Yoga Journal for deciding to hold their conference at the San Francisco Hyatt.
But I do so in the name of this opinionated and imperfect character Eric Walrabenstein—not in the name of yoga. Certainly not.
To voice our outrage about Yoga Journal’s decision to on the basis of yoga—or their affiliation with it—is to, frankly, not understand the purpose, or practice, of yoga. And quite colossally so.
Here’s the thing:
-Yoga is not about standing up for what’s right, while going to war with what’s wrong.
It’s about transcending right and wrong all together.
-Yoga is not about aligning ourselves with those who do good and against those who do not.
It’s about being liberated from the self all together.
-Yoga is not about standing up and fixing the problems of the world.
It’s about sitting down and seeing the innate perfection that has always already been.
This war against reality is the ego’s game, not yoga’s—and certainly not your truest self’s.
So, by all means stand up for the causes that you believe in: Rail against injustice, fight for the disenfranchised, champion the good and assault the bad. It is your right, and some would argue your responsibility, to make this world a better place in which to live.
But please don’t drag yoga into your war against God’s perfection.
Yoga is about creating unconditional stillness; yoga is about accessing the perfection of what is; yoga is about recognizing who you truly are—beyond the one filled with outrage and self-righteousness.
If you wish to truly do something in the name of yoga, sit, breathe, and smile.
Love & blessings…
P.S. I have no doubt that this idea will ruffle a great many feathers; particularly those of the spiritualized, feel-good crowd who confuse temporarily satiated egos for some sort of spiritual progress. I understand. I get pissed at things too, whilst trying to remind myself that this too is part of the inherent perfection of what is.
Kanani’s note: Consider Operation Bootstrap, a thoughtful, well designed and proven effective program that was many years in the making. Operation Bootstrap helps veterans find stress reduction through yoga. Support it for the price of a cup of coffee.