Tapestry

I came across this picture of a beautiful maiden, I knew long ago. She didn't have a clue. Really. She did not think she was beautiful. She did not even think she was smart, even though she was and still is one of the most brilliant minds I have ever known. Amongst us, there was another beautiful maiden, very talented, bright and edgy. A super-star-to-be, for sure and certain. She now moves millions with the touch of a button. She now kills rattlesnakes with a hoe. And me, puzzling over politics, collecting broken glass, dreaming of other worlds, footlights and curtain calls, now sitting with the unsettled, the insane, the murderous, without a second thought. Of late, I have thought of all I have achieved and what more I have received, of all I have given up, unknowingly and with full knowledge. I think about what I have built and what I might yet do and what I will always be beyond me. When I see that picture, I think about how our paths have gone where we never dreamed they would go and did not go where we hoped they would. I think about our children, who, after all we've been through, think we know nothing, when really we knew nothing much, but know quite a lot now. I suppose we deserve it. We thought the same thing of our parents, but not for quite as long and not so openly. Though I can't help thinking, once I knew a beauty who did not know she was... now I know a woman who is both wise and wonderful.

Too Bad So Sad

I went to a seminar on grief. I thought my job would pay for it because it kinda sorta related to the job- many of my clients have suffered tremendous losses. It's hard to find trainings that relate. So off I go. I didn't expect it to be uplifting. But this... First off, there is a reason this speaker knows a lot about grief. It's because he's had a lot of it. And he talks a lot about it. All these sad, sad, stories about sad, bad things that have happened to him. And he's been working as a grief counselor and hospice administrator so he knows even more sad, sad stories, --- sad sad sad. Then he had exercises for us to use with clients, but since we don't have clients present, we have to practice with our own experiences. This got us to think about all the saddest stuff in our lives, sad sad sad. Then he breaks us into small groups after having told us to think about a great loss, and think about what we needed. So we are sitting in our small group- me and 5 other therapists. Looking at each other. Not saying anything. So finally, I decide I will "share". So I talk about when my dad died. I'm fine talking about it. It's not a problem. Though I've never done it with 5 "therapy faces" looking at me. The rule was that the person who shares doesn't have to answer any questions. But they're therapists, they can't help themselves. So I have 5 of them trying to therapize me into having grief I no longer feel. Then this 1 little old lady therapist follows me around for the rest of the day asking me personal questions and generally trying to therapize me. Then she asks if I find her too intrusive and of course, being my mother's daughter, I didn't say "Yes, you stupid b*&#!, back off". Then we listened to more heart-rending stories, did some more upsetting exercises, then lo- without warning- back into the stupid small groups. This time, the exercise is: If you died, and your family was going to make a table display to represent you or your life, what objects would they put on it and why? What would be the glue that holds the objects together, makes it a unified whole?" So, here we are in the small groups, looking at each other and I just look. So one of the others starts, "My table would have a candle and some family pictures". And the next lady, "My table would have and candle and a Bible" The next lady, "My table would have a candle and some family pictures and a Bible and a smooth stone". Then it was my turn. I passed. They all looked at me with "therapy faces" and made sympathetic noises indicating that they understood that this exercise was just too much for me. Clearly, I have issues. I thought this was preferable to my telling them that I thought they are shallow, lying bitches and that I would commit suicide if all I could think of to represent the sum total of my life was a candle and a featureless rock. So then the next woman talked at length about the importance of candles in her life and I wondered if she might be masturbating with them and hoped I merely looked blank. Then we got yet another dose of insufferably sad examples from this man's life and I began to lose patience with his poor judgement and bad choices. Hoping to gain something from this nightmare, I asked a question, having to do with a dilemna I have faced in my work, the presenter responded with yet another sad story about himself which in no way answered my question. So I took my CEU's and did not leave an evaluation.

SNAP

The news is full of yet another tragedy. On Valentine's Day a young man entered a large lecture hall, and, in a spray of bullets, ended the lives of 5 young people. The news was full of repetitive reports, all asking 2 questions: "What can be done to prevent this from happening"? and "What caused this young man to snap"? Though I do not claim to be a genius, this is, to a large degree, my area of expertise. I truly believe I have the answer to both questions.

What can be done to stop this from happening?

Disarm the citizenry. I have several friends in my place of work, whom I respect greatly on many levels. They share 1 thing in common. They are all "outdoorsmen". For reasons that I do not comprehend, they have a need to run around outdoors shooting at animals, small and large. They kill them, skin them, cook them and eat them. And they like it. They share them with those who want a share. For some reason, their preference for this activity supercedes the need of the rest of society to be safe from everyone else who has a gun because they are so readily available in this country. I know, I've heard it. If you take guns away from citizens, only criminals will have guns. Think again. If you don't believe me, look at the statistics for school shootings in England or Japan. They are people just like us. They have as many disgruntles, angry and unhappy people. They just don't have guns.

What caused this young man to snap?

Nothing. Nothing caused him to snap because he did not snap. People do not snap. Today, finally, there was some indication that the shooter had a history of mental health problems. I'm sure they were severe. I'm absolutely certain that there has been a pattern of escalating problems, a series of symptoms and signs there for other people to read. I'm also certain that other people have seen these symptoms and signs. They may or may not have known how to interpret them. They may have attempted to intervene. If they did try to intervene, it was likely with little success. The laws governing mental health care today favor the least expensive intervention in the name of protecting individual rights. In reality it's a way to avoid responsibilty for those incapable of taking responsibility for themselves. The media assists by refusing to give full coverage to the story in the name of not inspiring others to imitate the offender, as though the incessant coverage would not do that in any case. Delusional people will pick and choose what they believe. Movies and video games, fiction or reality, it's all the same to them. If we were to really know what happened in this poor man's life, in the last shooter's or the one before, what we would see is a common pattern of repeated signals that there was a problem, growing more and more serious, readily visible to those who knew him. Why these things grew to mass murder in them is something I cannot say, but that they were headed for violence would be obvious.

I always reccomend The Gift of Fear by Gavin DeBecker. A book for young men and women that will keep them safe, teach them to understand violence in others and is just interesting. I buy it used just to have copies. It's not a happy thought, but it is true. Some things you need to be afraid of. Knowing when to be afraid is a gift. Knowing what to do is a blessing.