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FROM “POSITIVE PSYCHOLOGY PROGRAM”
Have you ever been feeling low, down in the dumps, stuck in a rut, or just plain stressed out? We all fall on hard times, and we all struggle to get back to our equilibrium. For some, getting back to equilibrium can involve seeing a therapist. For others, it could be starting a new job or moving to a new place. For some of the more literary-minded or creative folks, getting better can begin with art.
There are many ways to incorporate art into spiritual healing and emotional growth, including drawing, painting, listening to music, or interpretive dance. These methods can be great for artistic people, but there are also creative and expressive ways to dig yourself out of a rut that doesn’t require any special artistic talents. One such method is writing therapy. All you need is a piece of paper, a pen, and the motivation to write.
Writing for me, has been a lifesaver.
It’s been a helluva last half year for me, man. First in March, My boss of 27 years betrayed my trust by trying to diminish my role in our office, forcing me to make the decision to end our long standing relationship. Although I never had any illusions about us being friends, I did expect more reciprocal loyalty from her. In an instant, I was suddenly, as Twinklebear (my Twin Flame partner) likes to kid me about, “a man of leisure.” This was the first time in 47 years, that I found myself unemployed.
Even though leaving the job was completely voluntary, and even though I have enough pension income so I don’t have to worry from that angle, the change in status was jarring—and disorienting. I went from 160 mph of problem-solving on the job (which I was exceedingly good at), to sitting in the proverbial beach chair with a beer (but without the little umbrella stickin’ outta the can—ha!) in my hand. But the cascading of changes in my life was only just beginning
In June, I had a mishap which caused me to injure my right leg. Over the course of a few weeks, the swelling in the leg went down, but I then developed an infection. This necessitated a brief overnight stay at the hospital, with three rounds of a very strong intravenous antibiotic. Just great, man!
This led me to the heartbreaking decision to give up my beloved motorcycle. Understand that I had been a dedicated biker for a half a century, and to a biker, his Harley is almost life itself. But I took a good hard look at my physical limitations, and decided that it was time. I could no longer continue as a biker. Hey doanworrybowdit, we’re just gettin’ warmed up here, folks! There was more to come!
In early August, an unplanned visit to the emergency room started a sequence of events spanning the following five weeks, starting with the unwelcome news that I had somehow suffered a left hip fracture. The doctors surrounded me in admirable wonder, saying things like….
“Mr. Wong, how the hell have you been walking around on this? It looks like you’ve been walking around on a fractured hip for weeks. You must have a high tolerance for pain.”
Yes, I do have a high tolerance for pain, having learned this particular talent from decades of martial arts practice and training, a period of time when I suffered numerous broken bones, all healed on their own without medical treatment. Ha! Not this time, man!
This time, I could not dodge the doctors. I needed a total left hip replacement! Additionally, I required a pace maker, as my heart rate was as slow as 38 beats per minute, which is okay for Olympic athletes—but I’m not an Olympic athlete.
To make a long story only slightly shorter, this effectively rendered me house-bound for the last three and half months. I am recovering now, and am getting used to my new hip, a process that for most, takes six months or more.
Part of the trick is to get the new joint to feel natural, and for the gait to assume a normal motion. Workin’ on it, man. The other part of the trick is to regain one’s previous stength of not only the hip, but also one’s general conditioning which has suffered from sitting around on one’s ass while healing was taking place. Godaaaaaa!
So now you know why I feel frustrated.
This is where my writing comes in. It has been a true lifesaver, in this time of frustration and impatience to get back to full steam again. Writing for me has always been therapeutic, in all the stages of my life. However, with the diminution of things in my life that have become less important that I used to care about and passionately write about, writing has become especially important as coping mechanism.
I will state the obvious: at this time when I have been house-bound in my recovery, writing is still something I can do without restriction. The martial arts practice will have to wait until I’m better, although I can lift weights and work on my gait. Martial arts techniques when done correctly, produce such violent torquing motions, that deleterious effects on the prosthetic hip could ensue. You break it, you buy it man!
Motorcycles, I have concluded are history for me. That ship has sailed without me as I laid about, leisurely healing from my surgery. Bye bye, USS Harley!
But writing I can do.
So, what to write about? Writing about the martial arts has waned, ever since I closed my school in the mid 1990s. The impetus was just not there to write about it after I closed my school, because my teaching had stopped. Before I closed my school, I put my heart into “bringing up” my students 100%, and I also was all in on writing about teaching, and my martial arts philosophy.
How about writing about the biker subculture, something I’ve done for the past 28 years? I’m afraid not. I no longer felt that I was entitled to do so, since I no longer ride a Harley. It would feel phony to me to write about it because I no longer participate. I don’t feel comfortable writing about the biker culture because technically, I am no longer a biker. A biker must have a bike to be a “biker.”.
The only subject I want to write about, as it is done with great passion, is writing about my Twin Flame, “Twinklebear.” Writing about her and our Twin Flame journey suffuses my world with meaning, as it is reflective of “us.” Each word, every sentence is my way of saying “I love you” to her. When I prepare to wrote a memoir about us, my heart quickens, and my mind races. My soul gets poured into each memoir, my love and need for her a flowing golden stream of spiritual honey.
The last six months have been surreal for me. But the truth is that the last three years have been surreal. How could I have found a love so much more dynamic, so much more needed than any I have known before? How is it that Twinklebear and I fit together like a complicated jigsaw puzzle, so perfectly.
How is it that such perfection in compatibility, has turned our lives so thoroughly upside down, sideways and inside out? Godaaaa, what a woman Twinklebear is! Anything or anybody valued in life, is worthy fighting for. And I continue to fight for my Twinklebear, I am the Ultimate Alpha Male. Dig it!
So, is writing this memoir cathartic for me? Hey man, I feel better already! Hey, the Sierra Nevada Pale Ales don’t hurt. But seriously, writing this is therapy for me, as it is something I can do full bore, throttle all the way to the stop man, at 160 miles per hour. Ha! Hey Twinklebear, put that rolling pin down! “DONK” Owwwww!
I love you, Twinklebear
Forever and a day
Twin Flames, podmates always
Bear Pact Forever
12 12 12 in every way