So out playing with Winston and reflecting on my writings from this morning I remembered another point of focus from the experiences I've decided to share I need to find the courage to let out there: Confessions of A Mask, Yukio Mishima. Shortly after I broke my ankle a young man on the beach offered me a trade of books. I'd just finished Jack Keruouac, On The Road Again, and he'd just finished his. When he handed me the book, I have an intense flash of a memory of my first look at its cover, and a more vivid and detailed memory of its story than almost any other book I read.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confessions_of_a_Mask
As I read that, it terrified me. It resonated with me to a depth I didn't understand at the time but felt. I didn't understand what that meant. I knew it had hit some weak point deep inside me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. I think that was a huge contributing factor of me approaching the edge of breaking through this pattern inside myself. I wonder, in retrospect, if he saw that in me.. sitting on the beach, eating mushrooms in my breakfast sandwich, watching the waves.. Lost, confused.
To understand completely what this means you need to read it. The reason it was hard to talk about is I couldn't talk about it before I figured it out, and I hit a point in trying to figure it out where I was too much of a coward to face it fully until recently. I realized at some level I was deeply identifying with him. The problem was I identified the wrong level. His creation of a projected self as an act of escapism to deny himself the actualization of the desires within himself was what connected to me. What I seized onto instead was the idea he was scared of being gay. I thought somehow the world had seen that in me even though I hadn't seen it in myself, and had given me that book to tell me that. "That darkness in you? Yup, fear of gayness." I think I tried to confront myself about that down there. I definitely remember getting pretty lusty after a lot of babes on the beach. I didn't process this part of what was going on consciously, it was more like the book dropped a seed in me. I eventually seized to that as one central facet of my fear of myself though I think. The problem was I hit a breaking point. I had one friend who I used to compare wiener size with when I got excessively drunk at a young age and who had a few life passions if I edited heavily enough my perceptions of them I could try and posit him as "the gay love of my life I was hiding from". That immediately seemed ridiculous for me, but the problem was I didn't have the courage to bring it out into the world and test it. I tried to tell myself imagining gay guys and being grossed out was a test, but I knew that wasn't actually a test because my imagination can do what I want it to. I still though was NOT up for just trying some gay sex. My instinctual physical response to imagining it was strong enough I was pretty sure I would be really, really, really not cool with even messing around with that a bit, especially while still all fucked in the head. The way I chose to confront it in myself, and actually a huge step in me confronting myself altogether, was actually just telling my friend about the character I'd projected of him and events my imagination was actively trying to edit into our friendship and I was resisting, and his response was honest and shocked/confused enough I could trust it both on choosing to trust his words and there being some objective evidence that this shit was NOT right. I mean the guy has had a girlfriend pretty much 24/7. One of the things we bonded over was our love of girls.
Funny side story at one of the pieces of evidence I looked into myself for to find the courage to actually bring this up with my friend. Even in the moment part of me believed in the world I'd created and was terrified he was going to tell me I was right. I wanted so bad to believe that dark part of me was wrong but until I saw the look on his face when I put it out into the world I couldn't really get all the way there. Anyways back to the side story. I told him this one too. This memory kept coming back to challenge me when I tried to posit this theory against myself. When I was about 15 I tried to give up makin' sweet love to myself. It turned out to be a bad choice. I was a little while in (hilariously short period of time... puberty, it is what it is), and I was at my Dad's house. He had middle age, overweight, philipino cleaning ladies coming in to clean the house. I was standing in a doorway watching them clean, and before I noticed what was happening to myself, I found myself humping the doorway. Nature/nurture? Some shit's nature.
There's deeper meaning to that too though. Once I found the courage to confront myself about it, I allowed myself to think about it openly. I have absolutely no problem with homosexuality. That's part of why I couldn't beat it too I think. So long as they are given the freedom and respect to live their lives to the fullest, it's beautiful that people are willing to give up the ability to biologically make children for the pursuit of love and the universal. If I step back to the big picture, if we allow it to blossom and flourish, homosexuality could be a great growth which helps us take our burden off the earth by letting us reduce our population without having to kill each other or starve to death or some other tragic ending. We need to nurture and let it bloom. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the religious opinions on it came from good intents back in the day. When we were only living to age 25 and struggling to survive as subdivided tribes in a harsh world, breeding was an essential facet of survival, and letting people chase the self-indulgence of lust in the pursuit of love was allowing them to put themselves before the good of the group, and we needed to at least encourage people to favour the interests of the whole. In the modern world though the relation has changed. Overpopulation is a huge growing problem. I am pretty sure unless we improve our efficiency DRASTICALLY even our current level is overtaxing the system we are in and putting it out of balance. People giving up reproduction for the pursuit of love aid us in abetting that growth, and even a lot of them, if we let them, may choose to adopt and aid the children of couples who were unable to nurture them as they need.
Another part that helped me was an amazing period of time hanging out in Alberta, with a very good friend of mine, even if I don't speak to him too much. Jim Cuthill taught me quite a few lessons. The one worth mentioning now though was he helped me see even more clearly this idea I was pushing onto myself wasn't gonna fit. He is a big part of an even bigger part of this story, and it's worth a few of its own posts, but I will say this now. I was in a dark, scared place thank to another one of my stupid mistakes, another one I haven't admitted openly enough. I'd actually fallen into my darkness in the place where I thought I'd found a cure. Tree planting had grown me more than anything before it in my life. My experiences turned and took a dark direction and I chose to take them in that direction without realizing though, and over time I built up that shit inside me to the point where I lost myself out there, and I actually ended up stashing trees. I was ridiculously bad at it, and in fact got caught because I was still wearing my planting bags and masturbated in the treeline after stashing. Perhaps I wanted to get caught? When I look back at myself honestly even from this state of mind, I'm pretty sure I ended up in a shitshow and just didn't have the balls to quit so I made the wrong choice of frustration and indulged it. The actual worst part though, is when I was caught, I still lied. I'd stashed, I'm pretty sure, two days prior, maybe 3? not more than 3 though. It wasn't some huge number either, few bundles here and there spread out, but it was me breaking and falling down into the darkness. Then, when I was caught, even when I knew I was fired, I didn't confess to my full actions. For some reason, I think I wanted to hold onto this dark act I'd done which no one knew about. I also definitely at some level tried to push blame off myself. I felt like I wasn't pushing blame, I just said it was because I was so frustrated, or so sore, or so what-the-fuck-ever, but the real truth is even if those were contributing parts, the choice lay in me, and to focus on the things pushing me towards it is the wrong part to look at. It felt shitty. I never got paid for any of it, and in fact never complained when I didn't get paid for a whole bunch of work I did there. I don't know how much I didn't get and I don't care, I didn't deserve it, I broke that company's honour and it was kind to me and strong and ethical in ways I wasn't even ready for. I still think of them to this day, particular the owner. This one is Next Generation Reforestation, and they are great. Particularly the family that runs it, and the one holding the dearest place in my heart is the owner Cathy Newhook. She opened herself to me as I faced challenges medically and in work and took me under the wing of her company. I tucked in there, fed off the generosity, and then tore it apart. I ended up in camp with a supervisor who was facing challenges and instead of stepping up to the plate like I needed to I just let this bullshit take me over, failed, got frustrated, and then broke. Inside myself I was unable to seize responsibility. I think part of what was happening was I was working with a different set of tools and hadn't adapted to it. That happened to me in my last contract planting, lost my job as management, and rejecting responsibility for that is what ended up with me at NGR. I saw inside myself the fact my memory had recovered, I was smarter, and I expected everyone to just believe me. Thing is, not only can you not believe subjective reads from people on their own health normally, but I'd probably deceived them before as I deceived myself, and lost at least a bit of their trust. I didn't recognize that I deserved that though, so I felt rejected, and tried to get a fresh start. I wasn't ready for it though. I wasn't mentally ready for crew boss, and I wasn't physically ready for planting. My shoulders were fucked, my back was fucked, I had a ton of shit to work out, and I wasn't admitting how out there I was, how hurtin' I was, and that while I'd been ready, willing, and able before, I needed to rebuild myself to face that challenge.
I went running off to his place for a place to make a plan and recover, we'd very briefly made friends prior to me heading off into the woods and he'd said I was welcome there, and I didn't know anyone else. Worst part is before leaving camp, for the first time in years, I actually bought a little bit of cocaine and did it a tiny bit a time as I thought about things. Ironically, the guy who sold it to me was a guy who showed up to our camp late, who'd been a bailer on my first contract ever. He looked like a coward then for walking out, but he looked more brave then me as I ran away after stashing. Anyways, I got to Jim's place
So I'm sitting on the deck, we're shooting the shit, I have a puff, he has some dip. Pretty much right away though something comes up. I'm sitting there on the deck with what I figure is a manly man, cowboy hat, goatee, big homestead/ranch, tractor, quads, rig supervisor, spittin dip, drinkin beer, owns a chainsaw and everything else.. Thinkin I'm in my safe zone, not just like me, like the projected ideal of myself I've created. Then: surprise! He tells me he's got to be honest with me, and that I shouldn't be concerned about it, but he's gay. He felt like I would be uncomfortable and feel deceived if he hid it from me, and it would spur distrust in me. He was more right than he knew at the time based on what was going on inside me, but that honorable mode of conduct impressed me, and I recognized I could trust him.
I spent longer there than I expected. I got to know him better than I expected. I got to relax, and know myself better than I expected. It was a big step in the right direction for me. When I first visited him I worked a decent amount. This time, I just hung out. He was kind to me, extremely kind, but had no expectation in return. He made it clear he found me attractive and stuff, in a respectful, non-discomforting fashion, just to let his honesty out, and that was okay. I actually found it okay, because I could tell he really, really didn't think I was gay. Part of me then was trying to teach me to trust other people, and what I was choosing to see was his gaydar was not tossin' any beeps at him. I think that was part of helping me relax and get more in touch with what I'd really wanted to do.
I wrote a letter to Cathy apologizing for what I did, I researched other jobs, I tried to focus on the good I'd taken out of my experience, the compliments, the uplifting moments I had. It helped that I'd never stashed once without being directly told to by a superior previously in my career. It worries me to say that because I feel like it could come off as an attempt to push responsibility off me or discredit PRT and blame them for my choice. While like everything else in the world it's probably not absolute black/white and there can be contributing factors, I made that choice myself and it's all my responsibility. I do think I took exceptional events coming out of exceptional circumstances and allowed myself to accept them as a precedent which established a new ethical line for me, but that's still all created by me and my choice...
What I found inside myself when I looked more deeply was that where I'd told myself I'd found a gray zone, I'd crept over a black line. The part that terrified me was when I realized the essential nature of what I'd done was breaking a contract. (Although technically I never signed a contract as a planter perhaps? maybe coincidence has given me a technical escape in retrospect? still, that'd DEF be a technicality.) Breaking a contract is a promise. A promise to another is a promise to yourself. I realized I'd lost my own trust doing that, and that was where my self destruction came from and everything else. That was the part I couldn't accept. That was when I began to really need to re-earn my own trust. That was when I began to feel the calling to that other coast. To The Island.
I was looking at forestry jobs in Canada, and I was dreaming of the Pacific Coast. As a planter it seemed above my dreams, it was only for the supervets, the high elite. Choosing staff role meant if I wanted to go coastal I had years more of earning experience to open that world to me if I wanted to hold to this new position of power I was so addicted to (both for the good and the bad reasons). Now, freed from planting, it became an open idea again. I looked all over the web, applied to a ton of places, and for a while didn't get any replies. Then I got a call from a mill, who had been advertising for dev tech but asked me about thinning. Right around the same time though, I asked my uhh ex-step-uncle-in-law? Jeff Mosher for help/advice. I knew he was a forester on Vancouver Island, and at least a bit family, and that I needed some help. I felt like I saw potential in myself to be a good worker, this discovery within me of my need to hold to honour, to prove myself, was going to drive me, and I just needed a chance to let it out. He told me about two places to contact. There was a small company he recommended, and was surprised when he didn't respond, and then Strategic (then SFMI now SNRC). I'd actually already applied to Strategic, but on John's recommendation I emailed Jon Lok. Now, Jon Lok is listed on their website as a, I believe, management consultant? So I didn't quite know what I was doing at that point. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I think I showed a picture of enough of the good parts of me, and how much I wanted to go work hard and prove myself out there, that he opened the doors of his company to me. Fuckin rights dude thank you so much that was a huge game changer. After I emailed him we had a phone call, and I don't remember the details I just remember feeling really excited. He said he was surprised I hadn't received a reply, and that he'd tell his HR head to contact me. Tracey, who also is awesome, emailed me not too long after. I did a Skype interview with her and the head of the Engineering department, and I was hired. It was time to get on the move.
I was so excited, I couldn't wait to get to know the island. I knew though, I wanted to redeem myself, to prove myself, to re-earn my own trust. I'd been arrogant and self-deceptive about my preparedness for my previous job. This time I was going to get out there and do this shit right. I made sure to get there a couple weeks early. On my way up I stopped in Campbell River, and asked (in retrospect audaciously) to speak to the head of Engineering who I had had an interview with. He was unavailable, and I continued on my way up to Port McNeill where I was going to work. I was living in an Escape trailer at this point, their 19' model, and so I had picked out a trailer park/campground I was going to live in up there. I went up to town, got set up, and started to explore. My god it was beautiful. Mountains, the ocean, birds... the trees. It felt like a whole new world to me. It was amazing. I think it lit up two deep parts of me... That Murphy, the ocean explorer, the sailor, entering a new world, and then the natural vigor and intensity that grows in that province... I think there's another little part of me that connected to that very strongly.
One of the first things I did there though was walk up to Strategic's office, knock on the door, and ask to speak to Jon. Again, surprisingly in retrospect, I was welcomed into his office for a meeting. It was as I was getting into his office I realized I wasn't speaking with just a manager, but in fact was talking to an owner of the company. I think I managed to hold it together pretty well even after putting that math together. I opened myself up to that company, and it opened itself back. PRT, NGR, you guys are great, but Strategic was right for me on some next level shit. Immediately when I got there I felt like an important part of a big machine. I was learning so much, there were so many cool, interesting, relatable, honorable, fun people around. The feel was so good. I poured my heart and soul into my work out there. The work side was amazing... but getting out into that wilderness was a whole other part. As I went to the west, I had experiences which were just... amazing. I still look back on the alpha wolf that came out and stood there, the first day I stashed, looked me in the eye for a long time, and then ran away when Winston chased him. I am very confident that was a real event. I will ask my cousin who I remember as being there. Then, at Strategic.. as I poured myself into my work, rediscovered my honor when I learned that I was determined to accomplish as much as I could even when my pay was no longer directly related to it, and other people weren't depending on me, I just was addicted to the feeling of accomplishment, of contribution. It was after when I had a day where I found I knew enough to trust myself on the quality of my work so well I could let the energy out of me unabated and work as hard as I wanted to that the cougar walked past me so close, looking me in the eyes, calmly the whole way. I've tried to seize an explanation of that cougar that made sense with my scientific side. I told myself it was going to kill me. I didn't feel that in its eyes. I felt respect... and fear.
I learned a lot more at that company. A lot of different things from different people. I hesitate to give thanks or tell tales because I feel that everyone there deserves credit and more than I can explain, and if I tried to share that I wouldn't be able to. There are so many stories in that time it's incredible. If I had been ready to plant, and had been confident in the quality of the seed I had developed, I could and would have set my roots in there and flourished. But while that island taught me a huge amount, my body imposed its will upon me through seizures, took away my ability to work, and forced me to return to my home and deal more deeply with myself, the underlying cause, and unite me with a deeper feeling of purpose. It's opened me to a deeper hope. The level of hope I could find there was only that I could die there honourably. Returning home has let me return to the actual hope of life beyond this battle, this war, this challenge. I've found a deeper purpose, a deeper meaning, and a deeper connection. I don't know if I can want to give up my connection to that coast, that island, that working world, even that company, but I can choose to, for now, for the greater interest of the purpose I've discovered here. I'm Home. Wanderlust may return, the ocean runs through my blood, and the horizon calls me inside, I know, but for now it's time to look after the rest of me. It's time to grow my inner Acadian, to farm, to fish, to flourish. It's time to nurture that tiny seed of inner Native. To learn more about the history that has put that piece of me there, to understand myself more, to understand my world more. Time to hope the Irish luck keeps up, and count on the Welsh strength, determination, emotional intensity and musical connection to help me carry myelf through. There's so much more, and that might even be wrong, but it works, and it feels good, and I'm gonna go for it.
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