Slightly better than a functional alcoholic, I’m a stoner yogi. Turns out old hippies are thin because eating isn’t as important once you’re enlightened. Or at least lightened. There’s an IPA on tap here called Bodhizafa. Some guy told me that’s a word for monks who achieve enlightenment but then choose to come back and share their wisdom with the rest of us. My immediate response, “Lazy bastards.” Moderately surprised, the guy asks for an explanation. And I tell him the secret, “Achieving enlightenment isn’t the hard part. Staying there is the trick. I’ve experienced zen at least half a dozen times in my short life. Keeping your mind there is the hard part. Those guys are full of shit – they who cannot do, teach.”

The guy laughs and compliments my unique perspective. I smile through my sneer and feel confident he doesn’t believe me. Inside an old wound opens up again. I’ve gone through so many trials of faith in my life. The thought that I’m only a moment away from my next zen experience resonates like a crazy person muttering. The fact is, my mind is blown on a regular basis by discovering simple truths in a world I didn’t anticipate. I had no expectations for the future because I never expected to live this long. More than the simple myopia of youth, I often fantasized about when I’d be old enough to make my own decisions. At that point no one could stop me. Still can’t, honestly.

The natural urge to end my own life has been there since puberty. It’s something I just assumed normal until my early 20s when I shared the thoughts with a friend of mine. He felt the same way too sometimes! So overjoyed to find a human that understands how I feel I didn’t hear his cry for help. He shot himself 5 months later. That’s when I learned how unnatural my lack of self preservation is. They tried meds right away. It wasn’t a good fit at the time. I receded into myself until every emotion felt like hunger or anger. I went through the motions, doing the things prescribed to my socioeconomic class. I was lucky enough to find a partner with the same black wool and weathered the last 8 years with him. That refuge is where I found the courage to accept my faith.

I can feel more things than most people. Difficult to determine what’s over-stimulation versus actual distress, it’s led to a massive pain tolerance. I consistently feel the strong emotions of people around me. Involuntary empathy, if you will. I instinctively want to make the injured creature feel better, probably due to misplaced maternal instincts. Sometimes it works out and other times the snake bites me saying, “What did you expect?” I’m not alone in my affliction. I see other people engaging in the same behavior, cat ladies being the most notable example. We are the people acting because deep in our gut it’s the only right thing to do. Otherwise, we can’t sleep at night.

I got a little off track there but the point is, my faith is in my own feelings. I was contradicted by supposed authorities throughout my formative years. Don’t enjoy that, don’t look different, don’t say those things out loud. Shackled by rules I assumed universal, it took me far too long to break those chains. During brief windows of intoxication I exhibited moments of glory that could win over key allies. The medicine woman and tribal chief often vouch for my authenticity. My guard is always up but other uplifted folk can see right over it. Inside the fort I’m an adorable little dork that wiggles happily if you pet her. This is my only self defense. Once inside my walls, that person has the power to obliterate me.

Faith in yourself isn’t too popular in my hometown. Thanking a higher power is considered humble but I reserve gratitude for tangible beings. Every niceness toward me is altruistic because I have nothing to offer. Knowing how fully worthless I am is the source of my invincibility. Very few people can hurt me more than I do on my own. This self-flagellation keeps the demons at bay, in a way. I maintain my faith by keeping my ego in perspective. I’ve done nothing to further good in this world. Until I can change that, I’m nothing important. No one should listen to me. Everything I’m doing now hinges on my ability to deliver results. Otherwise I’ll fade into the milieu and be forgotten. As I should.