Today has felt better, as I suffered knots and discomfort in my stomach and general being for the last several days. Group meetings Monday and Tuesday nights, and this morning and afternoon, have helped me center and work through what has been causing me anxiety. Also yesterday, Steve and I deviated from usual chores, and played dice and cards almost all day long. This helped me feel in the moment and bonded with my significant other. I am increasingly able to be in the moment, and last night I felt the presence of God in a way that I had been missing and longing to find. There are many layers to what inner conflicts or issues are being resolved or navigated within myself.

In many ways, the blinders have been lifted about how I have approached life and treated myself in general throughout it. Having recently read the book “White Fragility”, starting the books “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”, and “My Grandmother’s Hands”, and picking up a couple more books from the library today that discuss racism, white priveledge, social justice, and interrelated subjects, while participating in a book discussion group on this subject, I am finding multiple doorways opening to self awareness. Not only am I able to examine my behaviors and conditioning, and how these have affected me negatively while learning to live with a disability, I feel connected to a greater purpose. While on the journey of entering a conversation that is so much bigger than me, I find it easier to “get out of the way”, and tap into greater purpose. While facing a great decision to take a deal to publish my second book, I found myself searching for that direct connection to God, in order to guide me toward a spiritual decision. I felt that I was very cerebral in trying to analyze if engaging with this project was loving myself, or if admitting my weakness inside of my debilitating disability was loving myself. As I put the decision in the background of my mind, and spent the rest of the week seeking a connection to the divine, the focus of my self-reflection changed.

Lost in reading about my whiteness, and the topic of racism and social justice, I began to leave the confinement of my ego and my mind, and was thrust into empathy and an awareness that our world goes far beyond my self. I needed this. I needed to get there to then be able to pray effectively, and connect to what God does want for me; to understand His will. In playing games with my partner, I also was able to let it all go, while staring into his eyes, and listening to his words. I then found myself letting go of competitiveness within the game, and was enjoying myself greatly. How often, when playing cribbage or dice, I remain focused on the goal, to get the best possible hand, and ultimately win the game. In a larger picture of life, I am guilty of living this way. This individual progression is very much fueled by my white priveledge, white identity, and my white dominant culture and society.

The purpose of my writing is selfish, in a way. First, I do it to help myself. I hope then that through sharing my process with the world, it may help others who are on a similar path. My greatest hope is that my reflections on living a life with schizoaffective disorder will reach others who live with mental illness. It is my responsibility, that I ask of myself, to give a fair and clear picture of my inner observations, in order to lesson stigma, elevate those who need hope, and educate those that are willing to hear. The mission of my work is valid. In producing a book full of essays, the mission is to do unselfish work that will benefit others. Still, I run into mechanisms in my behavior and living that I must overcome, to be certain that my choices are aligning with a greater spiritual path, and that I also keep doing what is truly best for my personal mental health. 

God is calling on me to educate myself on a topic that many others are uniting around… how do we fight the oppressive structure of racism in our white supremest society, and how can I personally engage with lifting the less advantaged, educating myself to not be a contributor to the problem, and to open my eyes and the eyes of others? In asking myself to do these things, I find myself returning to important spiritual work. I want to be with God. When I am with God, my selfless acts remain to be truly selfless, and I can find the subtle road that is hard to see that keeps me practicing healing. This subtle road is guided by the voice of God and good works, because I do not know what is best for myself. I am, and continue to be, my worst enemy. When I suffer, I spread suffering to others. I was born and bread this way by a world that was founded on fear and trauma. It is good for me to slow down, get distracted, and forget about what I am trying to do. I am not really supposed to be trying. It is the trying that is separating me from the soft illuminate voice of God that I so yearn to hear. Something is causing my stomach to be in knots. An Owl came to me the other night, and there have been strange moments where the Universe is undoubtably trying to voice something through its very own abstract language. As I let go a little more every day, return to my faith, have faith, and search out humility and gratitude, I find that I do not need to have the answers.