I remember a few turning points during my mental health recovery back in the year 2001. I had just told a new friend about some of the things that had happened to me in life. His eyes widened and he said like an awe-struck child, Why aren't you bitter. (please forgive the punctuation errors, Gentle Reader. Blame Microsoft and Windows 10) I cannot remember what I said. I think I was a bit gobsmacked because I had never seen myself in this light.
I didn`t see myself as a particularly forgiving individual. I had been seriously wounded and traumatized by people I trusted the most, family and friends. I had also survived couch surfing homelessness. I felt very vulnerable and frightened at that time, kept to myself a lot but for a few trusted friends, and was too unwell to work fulltime. I think I was also in shock. I did appreciate the need for forgiveness and reconciliation and also the importance of holding certain people`s feet to the fire till they were ready to apologize or make reparations. I had also learned that I have certain inalienable human rights.
Really I just wanted to be left in peace and get on with my life. Perhaps that`s why I unconsciously eschewed bitterness. It would only darken my life, shrink my soul and further incapacitate me. I spent my days doing what was best for me. I studied Spanish, painted, marketed my art, and went on long walks everywhere. It was when I found a white eagle feather in Stanley Park that I first felt visited by a sense of hope for my life and promise for the future. I was still further traumatized and was at times incapacitated for two months at a time. I soldiered on, knowing that only by moving forward would I get well.
In my way I was happy. Despite the wounds I carried I took care to not let them fester. I did my best to cultivate an attitude of love and forgiveness. For a period of time I wrote letters to heads of state and government ministers of human rights abusing nations for Amnesty International. Focussing on defending people facing torture or worse in horrible dictatorships helped put my own sufferings into context. I tried to maintain my focus on being a part of a much greater whole, of the absolute interconnectedness of all life and all nature and humanity. It was as though my sufferings had torn away a veil that had divided me from God and from other people.
More than anything, despite my extreme poverty, despite the horrible things that had happened to me, I chose to take responsibility for my own happiness. I knew it was futile to rely on anyone else, be it family (in my case nonexistent), friends (almost never available when I really needed them) and lovers and significant others (nonexistent to me for so many years, and being asexual anyway, I had to become emotionally self-sufficient).
I used to be an anti-poverty activist. Don`t get me wrong, I am still hugely anti-poverty and still try to raise awareness about homelessness and poverty in my part of the world. Where I got weary of the activism itself had to do with the chronically negative mindset of many of my cohorts. There appeared to be a culture of self-induced misery that could only be alleviated by getting more money from the government. This isn`t to say that they shouldn`t hike welfare and disability rates. In both cases they should be at least doubled. Likewise, restrictions need to be relaxed or eliminated in favour of introducing a basic minimum income for all Canadians. The culture of misery, however, has got to go but when that changes it could introduce new complications.
I am reminded of a conversation I had with a particularly hapless and miserable client of mine, an individual who has been through tremendous suffering. I told him, based on some past experiences that I shared with him in common that ultimately he is responsible for his own happiness. Later that day I mentioned the same to my counsellor. She replied, yes but, what about all the government cutbacks and policies against the poor that make life incredibly miserable for the poor. I succinctly replied that they can make our lives miserable but they cannot break us.
I say let us continue the fight for social justice, to continue to make noise for change and reform. But let`s make it a joyful noise. We don`t have to be miserable to be effective. In fact this makes us ineffective. They cannot destroy us and they cannot rob our happiness and when we allow the living waters of joy, love, peace and justice flow into our lives and out of our hearts then we will be transformed into a living force, a river of life that nothing can daunt or restrain.
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