Whenever characters are triumphant, we are drawn into their celebrations, feeling the same relief and happiness that they do, as if we were observers within the stories rather than an audience reading narratives that were created specifically to hold those details. The same can be said about the emotions that we experience when the parts of those accounts leave the individuals feeling unsure of their abilities to go through and overwhelmed by the thought that they won’t make it, as well as when they lose one or more of their friends on the journeys where the pitch changes into what feels impossible. These are stories where a turn of the page or the next scene or a plot twist is merely a moment before courage will be found through something as simple as one of the characters having a calming smile that reminds the others to believe, but it is also an action that reaches out to nudge our own hearts with the unspoken and yet reassuring sense that we too can overcome even the scariest of dragons or hell in our lives. Grins like that are the type that feel like a giant hug in your heart that you can lean safely into the arms of or the sun that breaks through the clouds streaming warmth and light upon your face on a bitter cold day reminding you that change will eventually enfold you because after all, smiles are never ever just a facial expression or a word on a page. Those looks are a part of what makes a character authentic for us, but it’s the gift of the feeling that we get from them that can also be found in our lives at times from the very people who are in need of that heart touch themselves. In the tale of a smile, the story is about one such powerful and compassionate feature that was often found resting comfortably on the face of an individual named Brian. His smile was the open door to a sensitive person who always had the time and the desire to hear the needs of others. That particular aspect of his helped individuals to lean in and feel at home before he even said a word but when he did speak, his words held the encouragement that his grin had implied lived there. Even his passion for music, his artistic abilities and his love of cars and the repairing of them were things where his realness was able to show through as an invitation for others to join him and to freely express themselves as well. But as we know with all things, a part never equals a whole, there is always a different truth to be viewed, and a smile is never just a smile because within it is the ability to express joy from the inside to the outside or to be used to lift others up or it can be the tool used to hide the pain of the one wearing a grin that so easily puts others at ease. In some ways life is a “show” in which it is far easier to be an observer who cheers and reassures or judges from the side lines, as we do when watching movies, than it is to actually be the character in an epic tale where the details of things like finding strength, overcoming what appears to be a weakness and needing help cannot be located by turning a page or sitting on the edge of your seat until the next scene brings that wished for sigh of relief. It is also harder to perceive, when we are not the one in the midst of it, that a smile or words of encouragement from an individual are not an indication or proof that the person who can share those things with others isn’t also struggling to show up for his or herself. Perhaps it is the vulnerability and the fear of the view into all that we are, especially our messes, that makes it so hard to seek support or maybe it’s those things as well as the thought that to need help is the same as being a failure since we are not those authentic and beloved personas in a novel or the observers of a so very heavell life. Or just maybe it’s that the pitch has yet to throw us off the cliff into the darkness and we are scared we might never get out of that place if we fall. During Ryan’s three-week battle for his life, a nurse used the word stoic to describe me while speaking to others. During that time, I was able to smile and to say encouraging words, especially as I held Ryan’s hand and whispered what I thought he needed to hear into his ear, but there was also a conflict raging in my mind and heart that only I was really aware of. Everything I did at that time was intended to help Ryan and to keep him calm but once he left this world that loud, chaotic and angry wildfire sprang to life leaving me speechless for months as well as unable to seek some sort of support to get through. There were those during that time who periodically touched my heart with quiet and simple words or a text emoji or a smile but most of all it was their patience, as if they were sitting with me, as they waited for me to speak again that helped me to be all right with not being all right. There were also those who pressured me to move on quickly from what hurt, and those actions felt like the expectation that I should close the door on my pain when the real truth is that strength has never been found in the hiding or the denying of what we are experiencing especially since that suffering will always find a way to be heard regardless of what we may use to keep it quiet. In your tale of a smile, are you able to feel the hug of your reassuring grin that you are able to give to others? How does it feel when you sit with that door open to your messes? Sometimes we have to pass this way again and again and again to find the right person, tool, words or smile in order to get all right with not being all right. Be kind and be loud in your tale of a smile especially for yourself. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you and if you or anyone you know could use a reminder to believe along any kind of journey, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline number is 1-800-273-8255 or the NAMI Mental Health Help Line is 1-800-950-6264. Every dream matters whether here or not. Love Always, Heavell
To Amanda and Jason. Thank you for leaving room to be curious about yourself and others because “The Tale of a Smile” was the results of a conversation that began about tattoos. Your love of Brian and his grin continues on in your memories of him as you share what he will always mean to you and others as well as in the music that you listen to because of him and your love of cars, where being real was a place you all felt safe in. We are so very sorry for your loss.
All epic tales and journeys are about a person or group who wants and is going through something while carrying the hope that their desire will be achieved. The paths in those stories pass through situations where the highs and the lows create emotionally charged responses authenticating our feelings that help to keep us on the edge of our seats with the intensity of a scene and by bringing a sigh of relief from the moments where being safe provides the opportunity to breathe before beginning again. Even the musical scores of those narratives raise and lower us through the notes and tempos that encourage a nervous response when they represent the fear and danger of a situation as well as when the sound is changed in order to take a triumph in a story and transport the feeling of it into our hearts where we are able to use our voices to express the realness and power of what had merely been a word in a novel. Our emotional responses to things like grand stories or music are authentic because what’s there also lives in all of our moments as we experience a variety of feelings with different levels of intensity based on what we are going through and the place that we happen to be at on the inside while experiencing it. In other words, the pitch that we are at as well as the situation can raise or lower us which can then make us, or the encounter feel like a defining “f” moment or just a part of a whole story. There are times when the memories of Ryan make my heart ache and bring tears of despair and then those same thoughts in another moment will have tears streaming down my face as I laugh until my stomach hurts. Both of those can be considered to be highs because of the intensity that I feel them although one is also a low because of the pain that takes ahold of my heart. Why is it possible for me to feel both ways about the same things and need boxes of tissues in either position? In part it is because of the pitch, or which place I am leaning towards. For instance, if my guilt and regret has decided to show up because it still needs to be heard or it’s been a challenging week in the weeds, then I am bent in one direction and when a different truth makes those tough lessons seem hysterical as the ridiculous pieces of our epic tale then I am sloped in the opposite way. In both positions my field of view is able to bring forth Ryan’s twinkling blue eyes and huge smile as if he had just flashed them at me a second ago and while it always feels like a bear hug in my heart, it can either make me smile or plummet me off a cliff into the darkness. What things can make you feel both ways? Have you noticed that your triggers feel more powerful at certain times than they do in other ones? Do you believe that it defines you as being impossible or are you able to view that your pitch and the one of the situations is what gives the appearance of that making going through or staying sober even more challenging? Or how about the fact and the opinion that flowers and the achievement of a goal can fade from the light when the intensity of the pitch is overwhelming? One of the things that I have learned from Ryan’s years of substance use and especially from his death is that it is always all right for me not to be all right but it’s what I do in whichever place I am in that determines how this is going to go as well as the time I am going to stay there. Being able to understand that about myself has helped me to perceive of how challenging and painful not only Ryan’s substance use was but his sobriety as well because this is life with the pitch that has all the authentic highs and lows that live in and outside the lines. Leave room within yourself to be curious about why you are feeling as you do because when you lean into the pitch, the power of it becomes yours to decide rather than the situations or even the intense emotions that are breathing there. There will always be moments where you “flip out” in your way, so hear and feel that. There will also be ones, even the very same ones, where you will be able to laugh until your stomach hurts from the entertaining scenarios in your kind of life. So, pardon the weeds because the pitch keeps us on the edge of our seats, makes things as well as us feel impossible but also allows us to breathe before beginning again. Have the best day POSSIBLE and be kind to the sometime warrior who is battling mystical creatures in an epic tale where it’s definitely not just about the flowers. Love Always, Heavell
When we have hope, we are imagining the possibility of change with our feelings and when we turn our hope into goals, we are visualizing what that transformation should be in order to turn our reality into what we believe will be just right. The same can be also said about the characters in grand stories whose authentic lives move from what is familiar to the desires and the objectives that are necessary along the journeys that they find themselves on. Whether a story is our own or one created by a writer, the challenges and experiences that are a part of our narratives are what encourages each of us to go outside the lines of the constraints that we are feeling from our realities in order to imagine changing what’s there. In a sense, our types of “flipping out” are a part of our resistance to those limitations but it’s the emotions and the pain that lives in the place that needs us most that prevents us from seeing the series of movements that we need to make as well as believing that we can do them. In other words, without weeds or darkness and the dreaded “f” moments being a part of our lives, the passion and the hope that we are always capable of would no longer be necessary in a location where yesterday, today and tomorrow are all the same although in a different truth that would eventually feel constraining too. Through the years of Ryan’s substance use, sobriety and health challenges, my failure to leave room to be curious in order to discover the unexpected beauty that lives there too, kept me in the position of repeating the knowledge that was familiar to me over and over again which of course was just like Ryan who was doing the same thing even though our details were different. That understanding that we each held served the purpose of protecting ourselves, but we had moved to a new journey in an unknown hell that required us to use our fear and vulnerability in order to create new desires and objectives as well as to find the ways to make them happen. Imagination, then, isn’t just a tool that writers need to in order to create authentic characters who battle mystical creatures while keeping us on the edge of our seats. It is a word that encourages all of us to discover our possibilities, to go outside the lines and leave our logic behind, especially when we are in the midst of chaos or feeling constrained where the requirements of the challenges are to do this in a different manner than we have been with that comfortable knowledge of yesterday. Can you imagine a persona in a novel defeating a dragon by using the same skills that are necessary, for instance, when planting a field? Of course not, because the overcoming of any type of mystical creature, even one such as addiction, requires imagination in order to take what we have and change it into what we need so that we can reach our goals rather than just hope that we will. If you are able to see the failures, then you are also capable of finding the out of the blue wins that transform the strength of those dreaded “f” moments into what they should now be through the powerful word known as imagination or you can continue to limit yourself to a scene or a chapter or perhaps just a few notes in a song. A better story is an authentic one, but it is also a narrative that imagines that outside the lines is a place where transformation really is possible. This is my epic tale of love and loss as well as battles with tricky substances and monstrous pain where the reality of just right has been far more painful than the fear and the vulnerability of letting go of the cliff or going outside the lines has proven to be. It’s a story that over a journey has changed from I can’t imagine that because I don’t want to into, I can imagine that and also visualize how it feels in the place that needs us most. What is preventing you from leaving room to be curious about you? Is it because you think or imagine you are safe enough in the reality of where you are? What will you do, now, with the knowledge of your grand story? Whatever you do, be kind and be loud while having the best day IMAGINABLE for you outside the lines because it is definitely not just about the flowers. Love Always, Heavell
The experience of suffering is the most common theme in epic tales as well as music because whether a story is fictional or not or has mystical creatures or involves details that we have never encountered, it is still an authentic and painful emotion that we all feel with depth on the inside. It’s that honesty and truthfulness in characters, along with their missteps and vulnerability as they discover and grow through their journeys, that connects us not only to the narratives but also to ourselves. In some ways, characters in a novel and the accounts of songs as well as art help to lead us to find our feeling of hope and to see that our possibilities are only limited by what we tell ourselves when we are suffering rather than by what we are actually capable of. In other words, when we stay curious about ourselves or on the edge of our seats just like we are as we watch epic tales, we are open to seeing what could be or is possible and then the solutions to what we are suffering can be found in unexpected ways and places. When Ryan was 18, he overdosed on heroin and fentanyl and as his lungs shut down, he was placed on a ventilator. I still remember the range of emotions and how that pain felt just as deeply in my heart today as I did when it happened almost 16 years ago although the power of it has changed, and it doesn’t take my breath away anymore. On the 15th night of that desperate situation, the doctors informed me that Ryan would not be able to come off of the ventilator and I needed to make arrangements for him. So, the next morning as I stood outside of his ICU room, I planned to have him moved to a long care facility while the thought of having to eventually let him go played over and over in my mind. Afterwards I walked into his room where both the doctor and my dad looked at me with smiles on their faces and as I turned wondering what there could possibly be to smile about, I noticed that Ryan was no longer on the ventilator and smiling as well. The goal and hope had been to save Ryan and that doctor had believed in Ryan’s possibility, so he tried one more time to wean him off. When I talk about that particular part of our trail, I can still visualize the look on each person’s face and feel the happiness, the kind that makes your heart smile and you laugh until your stomach hurts because of it, as well as the relief from the ending of the suffering. The confidence that came from that big win stayed with both of us and as life continued on, we easily faded into it until a traumatic event occurred almost a year later in Ryan’s life and he went right back to using substances to cope, his objective, while I returned to the target of getting him to just stop. That was a cycle that lasted for years on our journey with all of the highs and lows as well as the feelings of pain and doubt that come with substance use, sobriety and relapses. As we all know, when we are in the midst of any kind of hell, not only is it hard to believe that it is possible to take the power away from our personal dragons while hanging on to a cliff of hope, but it is also hard to breathe in courage when fear speaks louder than any flowers we may have. Our better stories hold that honesty and openness and despite the different details, those things are exactly what connects us to the characters in epic tales and the songs that say what we feel but can’t communicate as easily. The differences, though, are that we don’t leave room to be curious about ourselves so that growth is possible for us, but we will for others or for the tales that we love, nor do we recognize that our own narratives express far more than just facts just like epic stories do and that while living our stories without everything being just right is scary and painful, that’s what makes them our unique, real-life, meaningful experiences rather than the results of an imaginative writer who could place us on another painful journey that we might hate as well. After Ryan was released from the hospital, we went to see one of the doctors who had cared for him. That doctor smiled as he told Ryan that he was happy that he was going to live, another one of those memorable heaven or flower moments, but as he continued to speak his face changed when he added that there was a plot twist as a result of the overdose and damage to Ryan’s lungs. If Ryan didn’t stop using substances, he would only have 10 years left to live. As you can imagine that was a fall off a cliff type hell moment that should have stayed with both of us but because the goal had been to save Ryan and he had been, that opinion and fact had appeared to be as impossible as Ryan becoming an addict had once seemed as well. In the last year and a half of his life our field of vision began to expand and we realized that when we leave room to be curious about each other and ourselves, what has been done fades from the light and transforms into what is really going on and what is possible. Ryan became the coach who taught me about his life, and I became the teacher who shared my perspective of mine with him and while it wasn’t perfect, because it’s not just about the flowers, our narratives together and separately became the authentic stories that we had always been capable of becoming the better writers of. You see the hope and the goal had been to save Ryan but along each of our ways the out of the blue wins and unexpected beauty, not just the sobriety, helped us to sit with the suffering that lives in all kinds of dreaded “f” moments and to know that they are only as strong as we tell ourselves they are, and that the feeling of vulnerability that breathes within them is something that we are powerful enough to change or even defeat. After all we may have lost Ryan during his substance use times as well as in the end, but we also discovered so much more of him on that journey that if his trail had only been an easy one or just in a field of flowers, we would have missed finding and feeling through those moments that made our hearts smile and the laughter that made our stomachs hurt as well as the tears that required tissues. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you and if you leave room to be curious about you, you will see that not knowing all the answers and the suffering are exactly what makes epic tales and sometime warriors so real just like you. Love Always, Heavell
One of the best feelings that epic tales, music and our lives invoke in us is the happiness that we experience when we achieve a goal and then celebrate that success. Having moments like that helps to strengthen our beliefs in ourselves while also providing the encouragement that we need along our journeys’ and of course it always feels good to reward ourselves for overcoming or achieving something. Even trees, forests and fields salute life by blooming after the period of time where a part of their trails occurs during a difficult season that prevents their growth. What, though, makes the acknowledgment and the honoring of each joyous moment worthwhile? Imagine if epic tales were to become a shortened version where a single scene or a chapter conveyed that an objective had been achieved without using the incredible details of the characters and their challenges, feelings, missteps and battles with mystical creatures that make those narratives grand. Would you still read or watch movies about those lackluster stories where every outcome would be predictable with a goal being reached? Or what if everything in nature just continued to bloom without the time that is set aside for rest, would we even notice the beauty of it or be in awe of its possibilities anymore or would it all seem mundane because of the lack of change? Or what if every song were to only express the highs, would we even need a variety of artists to say the exact same thing that we have already heard? In other words, if everything we desired were to happen as we want without the difficulties, would we still be celebrating our successes, or would we now find ourselves wishing for a rollercoaster ride in hell or even throwing ourselves off of cliffs so that our journeys would become epic ones that involve all kinds of things that can be the representation of mystical beasts? Maybe it’s our belief that if everything were to be just right or have the appearance of that then our lives would be perfect too even though we don’t actually know that for a fact, although our opinion has us hoping that it is the truth. When I turn around and pass this way again, there are moments where grief speaks loud within me because of thoughts like “if only this had been just right or that had been” Ryan would still be here. The real truth is that I don’t know for sure that he would be even if everything had gone the way that I wanted and certainly there still would have been challenges, just different ones, and who knows, maybe I would have hated that trail as well. What has been done cannot be undone and it stands as it is but the power of it does not have to stay in the same form if we pardon or forgive the weeds, our own in particular, and then use what’s there to be stronger as well as to do this better today and tomorrow. It is, however, always all right to not be all right in every moment as long as we don’t stay in that place for too long preventing our growth or limiting ourselves to a single scene or chapter when we are so much more than that. Change is difficult when our field of view focuses on the “if only things had been just right” or “I am not possible if my life isn’t just right” especially since that is not what we are going through with in our so very heavell or authentic lives. After all, it’s not just about the flowers because without the difficulties, the wins would be uninspiring and unimaginative but then it’s hard to perceive of that when we are in the midst of anything, or our thoughts and feelings have us passing this way again and again while hoping for a different outcome. A better story will always be the one where the details hold not only what went right but also what was wrong as well as what has or can still be learned in our series of movements just like in those grand narratives that we connect to. This is your epic tale so be kind and be loud but also be curious because it’s not just about the flowers, they fade when always in the light, but rather about what can be found in the unexpected beauty or the out of the blue wins and the shading effect that comes from the difficulties along your way that make celebrating any kind of success worthwhile. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you because it’s most definitely not just about the flowers. Love Always, Heavell
If we value and love controversary as well as the messes in any kind of epic story, why don’t we feel the same way about them in our own narratives? Is it because it’s others who are traversing in the weeds rather than us or is it that they hold the belief of finding courage as well as hope in places where fear and impossibilities breathe just as we need in our own lives or is it the presence of those mystical creatures that turns what are really ordinary tales into the grand accounts that we sit on our seats for? Or perhaps its’ that it has always been easier for us to locate the value of the weeds as an observer versus finding their worth when we are in the midst especially when we think that being in that darkness and feeling lost is the same as being a failure? Ralph Waldo Emmerson said “What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered” and when we look at the beneficial accounts of weeds in the story of a field or a forest, they are a part of balancing and nourishing the soil, help to prevent erosion as well as provide a home and food for all sorts of creatures regardless of our dislike for them. If we then take the word weed and exchange it for terms that connect to us, like pain or dreaded “f” moments or fear or substance use, the good or useful quality of those experiences are harder to discover and believe in, but their purpose is also meant to help us find strength and courage in the moments when we and things become unbalanced. In other words, the difference between weeds and flowers is in how we judge them just as the distinction between failure and success is really in what we feel the virtues or lack of are for each. Sometime ago I wrote about an addict whose substance hell involved alcohol. Over his matter of time, he took what seemed impossible and changed it into “I’m possible” The short narrative is that he now refers to his substance use as his having been a professional drinker who no longer does so rather than using the phrase that he is an alcoholic/addict. The understanding about that darkness is still there in his words but the power of it has become his strength as well as providing him the ability to laugh until his stomach hurts about what has been. His story is about overcoming something while having to fight mystical creatures, also known as the pain within himself, along the way and while there hasn’t been crowds of people on the edge of their seats observing his journey, the value of it is still grand because he has been able to pardon the weeds in order to use them to nourish himself and find his way home to the place that needs him most. What person, place, thing or fictional character would you choose to be you in your epic tale? How would your choice handle the controversary and the messes that can be found on your trail? Would that option be strong and courageous in every moment with a predictable outcome, or would your particular storyline be authentic and grand through emotions and terms that at times reflect the fear and the doubt that live in the weeds and within us even though we hate what they say and how we feel when in the midst of all of that? Words matter not just because they hold the details of what has been but as an expression of our belief or value of those things and when they remain in a limited view, they prevent us from being able to pardon the weeds or transform by using them to feed our strength and courage along what are really so very heavell lives not predictable ones. After all, foreseeable storylines wouldn’t be worth noticing, don’t hold feelings of hope nor have they ever been what makes a tale epic, but weeds in all sorts of forms have always had an important presence in those narratives as well as the stories of fields, forests and our lives. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you and when you pass this way again, pardon the weeds this time because their unseen virtues are meant to be the out of the blue wins that nourish the place that needs you most just in unexpected ways that you didn’t imagine were POSSIBLE. Oh, hell sometime warriors love epic tales and so do we. Love Always, Heavell
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