I just this week watched on TV the film, “Don Quixote”. I remembered in strange reverie that this was one story I could relate to in my struggle to stay alive in the early 70’s – the height of my suicidality. I would sing along with the movie’s song lyrics desperately in search of my own destiny, something faithful and worthy to follow. “I am I, Don Quixote, the Lord of La Mancha, my destiny calls and I go”. I longed for the knowledge that something besides death would call to me.
I felt like Quixote did, alone on a quest that had no real discernible future. That music gave me something to focus on though, some knowledge that out there was a story punctuated by compelling melody written by someone who knew a deeper truth, a deeper yearning in the human soul. I was drawn because somehow I knew I could find solace there. I have found many of my patients find certain songs express the pain inside better than they could ever verbalize it. They listen to a particular song repeatedly, memorizing every word and inflection. I did exactly the same thing. And I felt a tremendous comfort in knowing someone had found a way to express my torment – that there might be someone else out there who felt my same way. Suicidality is so isolating. It seemed maudlin to any unsuspecting eavesdroppers but music and story always played a part in my slow path towards my healing and my destiny to heal others.
I realized that the reason I spent 24 years in agonizing suicidality was to be able to discover the means to help others through my research and my own personal experience. Why it has taken so many decades for me to get here pains me because I feel the urgency of Quixote. I feel the loss of every spent moment and am compelled to jealously garner every second in retribution for that lost time.
I’m going on vacation next week and I know how badly I need it. I’m going to a local quarry for 5 days to learn how to sculpt. I want to go and I need to go. I’ve always wanted to work with stone. It is a powerful healing metaphor. I’m looking forward to it. Yet, I feel precious moments ticking away. There are more things I could be doing to save lives perhaps in a more demonstrative immediate way. I wrote the book (Just Because You’re Suicidal Doesn’t Mean You’re Crazy, 2012) and I add to and am revamping my website (https://www.jsp3.org), but I am perpetually thinking, “What more, what more…”.
In my meditation this morning the Lord spoke to me and told me my continued mission of preventing suicide in the world is at the quarry. “GO and wait on me”, was the clear and poignant message.
So, you see, in watching Don Quixote this last time through new and enlightened eyes, I realized fully that my ministry is not necessarily in what I do, the deeds I accomplish. It is in who I am as a person – the essence of benevolent intent. The blessed entity that is who any of us are in the world surpasses all we could ever do.
Today I am renewed.
UPDATE: An unfortunate misunderstanding prevented me from continuing my sculpting plans. I spent only one day at the quarry, felt totally extraneous, unwanted and in the way… and left. I was overwhelmed with loss of expectation for most of the remaining week. I found myself in deep reverie and meditation, wondering what that experience was all about. I can only think of rare occasions when I have felt so disrespected and disparaged. Expecting the opposite, the reality hit me twice as hard.
But life is filled with little disappointments and griefs like this. The best thing to do is put your big person pants on and move on. It took a while and I’ve moved on. I’m not worrying about deeper meaning or lessons learned – just movin’ on. Only thing that drives me crazy is that one of my most unfavorite sayings fits perfectly here: “It is what it is.”