You Cannot Rise Above Pain Without First Feeling It

I created this blog last week. This is my third post in the five days that it has been up, and man, fair warning, by the way I am feeling right now, I have to tell you it is going to be a loo loo. I already know that it is going to be a little graphic at some point, but that will be a little later on. If you are sensitive, you might want to skip over that part quickly. Don't worry though, I have no intentions of using any excessive shock factor. Or sharing anything too terribly graphic. At least I hope I don't.

For context, I think I should share some background on myself before going any further. This isn't the first blog I've written, but it has been quite a long time since I actively wrote. My first posts were written back in 2007. That blog was based on painting techniques and my philosophy of art as a spiritual path. I also had another blog back in 2009. That one was for the non-profit association that I had created called Kaizen Inspired Life: Creative Training and Outreach Association. It was about sharing inspiration and many of the techniques that I will be sharing here, so this isn't an entirely new venture for me. But what is new is that never, not once, did I ever write a blog or anything else for that matter, during a time like this, feeling my life at the absolute lowest it has ever been, a time caused by the very recent death of my 25 year old son, and the subsequent, absolute inability to function "normally" or do the things that I had dreamed of, like finally running the retreat center/nordic spa that I had given my EVERYTHING to through its creation. In fact, never in my life did I EVER expect to be where I am right now, feeling like a ghost without substance, an entity smashed to bits by life while anything that I used to believe was solid has been scattered across the universe like a handful of dice. At this point of writing nothing is sure. There is no clear plan as to my next right step, beyond this blog and website that is. Talk about a game of Craps. That is exactly how I feel, like crap. But at least I am certain that I have this uncertainty.

Your might have read that I touched upon the loss of my son in an earlier post, but that was it, a brief touchdown and quick liftoff because I did not want to put my "heaviness" on you. My intention in writing this blog was to LIFT myself UP and out of the depths of sadness, loss, despair, overwhelm, anxiety, and yes... grief, among other things, through sharing things that I know have the power to change things for the better even in times of bountiful crap. No, I did NOT want to drag anyone down! I still don't. What I do want, however, is honesty, and transparency.

You see, I do have the tools, I have the techniques, I am no stranger to energy therapy, art therapy, neuroplasticity, spirituality, hundreds of philosophies, creative techniques, writing techniques, energy-work, and a myriad of other things, SO many things it would make your head spin like a top if I listed them all. When I really take time to think about that list, it certainly sets my head spinning too!

For over 25 years I have been learning this stuff, practicing this stuff, teaching this stuff, and then learning even more stuff! How does all this stuff translate? Well, let's see... A simple interest in psychology and philosophy lead to a PhD. An interest in art became incredibly successful art shows, the illustration of books and the creation of CD covers as well as a variety of other web-based creations. The desire that I had to share what I learned resulted in writing four books, two of which are for sale on Amazon, and the other two I wrote exclusively for my students. It also resulted in the creation of the non-profit that I mentioned above and so many classes both taken and taught. I can hardly count how many!

So why am I sharing this? Let me assure you, it is certainly not to brag, because it makes me taste the bitterness of vomit in my mouth when I think about self-promotion. No, it's not that. What this is, is a post for clarity's sake and context. It is a post to show you that I am not just some rando self-proclaimed guru spouting off a lot of stuff with nothing to back it up, and

1. I have put in decades of hard work to learn as much as I could about everything that I will ever share with you on this page, and

2. I'm not simply coming to you as a book-learned soapbox speaker. I have spent my own time knee-deep in the blood-soaked mud of trenches.

Truth?

I've been there, and I have the proverbial bumper stickers, T-shirts, water bottles, you name the merch and I've got it. I also have the battle scars from all the wars, both inner and outer.

During most of it, I can assure you, my life was certainly not perfect as I was a single mother of three, having just divorced my husband after 23 years of life together. I had just lost my Dad to cancer when I went out on my own, and 10 months before that, my mother-in-love had died of ALS. This was also after I had discovered a lump in my breast and to top it all off, I had just quit a 30 year smoking habit, cold turkey! Perfect timing, hey? Well... actually it was. Through all of the pain, loss and uncertainty, the latter was a choice that I had made on my own, for myself, and had stuck to even though my body, mind and emotions screamed bloody murder. Still, though hard as hell, it gave me some control over SOMETHING in my life in a positive way. So as you can see, I am not a stranger to pain, hardship, loss, or challenges.

Also, just to clarify, I want to assure you that I am not complaining either, because the learning, the creating, the writing, the teaching, the loss, the fears, and the judgements that were placed upon me through this time, helped me to break down enough to let go of my own judgments, open my heart, overcome the challenges that faced me, and also helped me to reinvent myself over and over again. In all of this, what I found amongst the rubble of the destruction of the life that I had dreamed of, was love, a deeply profound love and compassion for all life. I also found the way that I wanted to be of service in this lifetime, and with that, I found me.

Then, JUST. LIKE. THAT. It all stopped one day.

Trouble erupted in my family, the details of which I cannot share because of those who would be hurt in the process. There is one thing that I can share, however. My son, had started doing heavy drugs. I knew before this time that he had already been smoking pot and I had tried incessantly to get him to stop. I did not do drugs myself so I asked my husband, or ex-husband, I should say, an avid pot smoker who used the drug to help with ADD, which was then called ADHD, I had hoped with his experience he could help but he did not help. In fact, he did not believe me. Nobody believed me until things started taking a seriously dark turn. The darkness became so overwhelming that those who had been skeptical earlier were forced to remove their blinders and confront the truth. Again, this is not complaining... this is just experience, and in this experience I am not alone. There are many parents who right now are where I was, and I am deeply sorry when I say that there are many more to follow.

Everyone handles these challenging times differently. For myself, and my family, I knew that I needed to take a sabbatical from teaching and limited my coaching to very few. I knew that what I needed was not to continue spreading myself thinner and thinner. I needed to shake things up, create a new focus, and draw my energy into actively using the things that I had learned on a much deeper level than I ever had in the past. Even though I was always a teacher who practiced what I taught, I needed to take ALL of my skills and knowledge to the next level through intense practice.

Living with an addict is not an easy thing as I'm sure you can imagine. It tore the family to shreds and sent us in all directions. It sent the girls and me to the other side of the country while Liam chose to stay with his father. There is more to this story, but that is a post for another time. I stayed in contact with my son regularly and offered him unconditional love and support unwaveringly. I tried to share what I had learned with him and encouraged his creativity. This kept us close, even across the miles, but it did not keep him away from the drugs, no matter what I said or did.

Two years after moving to Nova Scotia, I returned to BC and met up with my son again. I was looking forward to seeing him, hugging him and being near him, but the person I saw in front of me was not my son. I knew right away that during the times when we had spoken and shared video calls, he had been on his "best behaviour" while growing more and more addicted to all of the worst drugs that you can think of. For two years he had hidden the truth of how bad things had gotten from me. My heart broke when he told me of his plans to move to Vancouver's downtown eastside. If you are imaging the worst part of any city, you're right. Even though I know that we cannot force our will on another and that we all have the right to make choices for ourselves no matter how shitty those choices are, in that moment when he talked about what a good deal he was getting and how close he would be to some of the special places we had shared while he was growing up,

I yelled out, "NO FREAKIN WAY!"

I told him to pack his bags because he was coming home with me to Nova Scotia! Then I caught myself and rephrased it into a question, "Liam, do you want to come home with me?"

Thank God, he said yes.

Once on the east coast Liam cleaned up. It was BRUTAL but he committed and he did it! He looked better, he sounded better and he was thinking more clearly. Within a year he decided to go back to school and enrolled in NS community college, and moved to Bridgewater. The only housing available for students at the time was in a hotel close to the campus, so that is where he took up residence. Little did we know at the time, this was step one on the road to the end for him.

Very quickly, however, it became clear that this place was NOT a healthy residence for students as it housed dozens of drug addicts and was effectively the government's dumping ground for the homeless, the "lucky ones" that is.

For well over a year, even while surrounded by his demons who tempted and teased and attacked, Liam stayed clean. And then one day the pressure became too intense when the news came that the kids' Dad was dying. This was just too much for him to take and stay clean. The struggle was too extreme, the opportunity was there. Adam was dying, the demons had won and Liam had lost his way again,

The news about Adam shook me too, it crushed my heart and terrified me. How were the kids going to handle this? My youngest was only a young teen at the time and my oldest no longer a recovering drug addict, was now back in active use. Once more, I tried everything that I could to help him get clean again, but to no avail. He did have moments when he would abstain briefly but then the demons would come crashing in again. I say demons, not only as a drug reference but also as a way to describe his experiences in the Hell where he lived, if you could call that living. During his time in the hotel, Liam had seen multiple overdoses and in one case it happened to a girl who he had briefly dated and still held as a close friend.

That night everyone was partying and when Liam left his room to join them he saw a group of people dragging this girl out of the building. They dropped her in the parking lot, face down in the mud with her head right beside a pile of dog excrement. Liam screamed for them to stop while he watched in horror as the people who claimed to be her friends were stealing her shoes and other belongings. This was it! This was the proverbial straw that broke his back and he lashed out at the demons, in this case the ones who like in a Christmas Carol held no compassion for the one who had died and focused only on what they could get, holding no regard for the life that was lost. Fists blazing, Liam lashed out, was arrested and released in the morning.

I got the call

No matter how old your kids are, they are still your babies and your heart is connected with theirs. When Liam called and recounted the story, I jumped in my car and went to rescue him from the shithole from hell. Then while driving I realized that I had no place to put him up long-term. As fear crept in I surrended and asked the Powers that BE for way to be shown, a way that would help my son, and almost immediately I received the inspiration to ask a neighbor if Liam could rent her beach shack. It was good arrangement for both of them for a number of months. Even though I knew that he was still self medicating with pot, I was grateful that it was not Fentanyl, or heroin. In the evening I would look across the cove and see the small like in the window and my heart felt peace knowing he was there and ok. Once the fall came, however, it was time for Liam to leave. He moved to another small beach house down the road. winter in the Maritimes can be a lonely place, but far more so when you are a recovering addict with no friends and only your mom and dog as company.

By this time Adam had died and the kids had received some of their inheritance. We all worried for the day that Liam would receive his money and just as we feared, as soon as he did, he started using heavily again. There is nothing that can teach you more about unconditional love than when your drug addict child threatens you. I knew that he had been using and I confronted him, not to condemn, but to help. Lying, deflecting, projecting, and threatening are all very typical reactions when an addict feels threatened, and he did not hold back. Still, in moments between binges, I could see his golden heart shining as brightly as ever, especially when he was with his little dog Sweetpea, a chubby little Pug, with a big dog attitude and an even bigger sense of loyalty to Liam. The two loved each other fiercely. He would have done anything for Sweetpea, he bought her toys and treats and a little cart that he attached to his e-bike so that he could take her on rides. He spoiled her continuously but the only thing he could not and would not do for her was to give up using drugs. Still, his heart was golden, and it shone so brightly, especially with her. Seeing this love I knew my boy was in there somewhere and I swore that I would not stop trying to bring that spark of light back from the depths of addiction! I swore that I would do anything and everything in my power to help him.

I swore that I would never give up, until I did.

In and out of states of oblivion, I saw my child in the worst condition imaginable. Still, I also saw glimmers of hope. I heard his plans to create a better life for himself and celebrated his dreams of buying a house and going to rehab once he got to Saskatchewan. I also saw him slumped over face down on my couch, completely unmoving, I was certain that he had overdosed. In that moment sheer terror ran through every cell in my body. I could not even bring myself to shake him, so instead I screamed at him. Glazy eyes and anger flashed at me as he lifted himself. Threats of violence followed. Terrified, I texted my oldest daughter who called 911. After Liam was relocated to a place where he had shared a house with two older women, I fled to a hotel in Halifax for a few days until I felt that enough time had passed and he would have had a chance to calm down. I found out later, after he had already passed that he had actually OD'd in the same hotel where I had stayed less than a month earlier. This was just before leaving on his road trip to Saskatchewan. The ambulance bill told me so. Clearly, he was not alone at the time of this overdose as someone would have had to have called 911, and so having survived, he left the next day on the road trip of a lifetime, one that would result in the end of his lifetime. Of course, this was something no one knew. Still, in my heart I admit, I suspected.

Truthfully though, I breathed a sigh of relief when he left for the prairies. I remember throwing my arms in the air and pleading to the Powers that BE to take over! I begged the Universe, or God, or the All in All, whatever you want to call IT, to take over. "PLEASE TAKE OVER!" I begged. "I CANNOT KEEP DOING THIS!" And then I let go... I surrendered. I know that above I said I gave up, but now I know better. Even though they may look the same, giving up and surrendering are two completely different things. Giving up is an action of one existing in victim mode. Surrendering is a release of the need for control from one in a place of trust, even if it doesn't feel like trust at the time.

Liam died from an overdose of bad Fentanyl on what they are guessing was July 14th, 2024. They dont know for sure because he was not found until the 19th. I personally suspect it was the 13th though, as this was the last time I had heard from him. Face down on the floor, with his little dog Sweetpea with him, that's how he was found. The coroner told me that I could not view the body because he had already started to decompose. These are words that echo in my memory. No parent should EVER have to hear this. This is why I am here on the Great Plains with my family instead of being at home in the Maritimes running my business. And from this place, in this state, now that I have said this aloud to the world, this is where I begin...

Not many people would share such a thing as this, as addiction is most often kept hidden, fearing shame and judgment. There is fear that our children will be judged, and that we will be judged as well. But I say NO! Addiction is an epidemic and those who are addicted do not start out choosing addiction. It truly can happen to anyone. There are always reasons. My son? He was bullied early on in school, was painfully shy and suffered the most horrendous level of social anxiety. I am not ashamed to tell Liam's story as it serves multiple purposes:

First, to let people know that even though we may have all of the knowledge in the world and have helped many people in our lifetime, we cannot be our children's counselors, coaches or saviors. We offer all that we can, we give all that we have, and we trust life and our kids to take it in and do what is right. Often, however, this is not enough. It takes a village, as we have all heard and often even then, the proverbial village is not enough. In my son's case, it was not. Nothing would have been enough. Remember, I said earlier that each Soul has the right to choose their path and experiences and no one has the right to change this, no matter how much they want to, or how hard they try to. This is the truth. My son had to dive so deep into the pain of life, and feel it with every fiber of his being before he could rise above it, and once he did, he was ready to move on.

And second, since the day came that I had prayed would never arrive, it has taken an untold number of agonizing moments of Soul searching, and many more moments still, spent wishing that things would have turned out differently, then realizing, again and again, the absolute and utter absurdity of that wish, to finally crash and burn down the last kick at the can of what I had once felt was any form of "control", realizing on a deeper level that there is no such thing as control in any sense, which has allowed me to return to the act of surrender once again.

Finally, this post was for me as well. For after diving so deeply into the depths of the pain that I have been feeling and sharing some of it with you here, I feel ready to share the act of rising with you ... authentically.

My friends, in the deepest of sincerity I say to you...

Life is NOT always pretty, but it IS always beautiful.

And the moments that bring us the greatest pain, should never be swept under the rug, or wished away, for it is only in feeling these moments fully and looking straight into their tragic beauty, that we can finally rise again...