RON STUBBS 

Living Your Metaphor

Living Your Metaphor

by Fred Langford Cht.

“He said here take it. This is my lucky dime. I want you to have it.”

It is funny how some of life’s little things, small gestures of kindness have such a deep impact upon people’s lives. Here I was being “blown-away” not only by the swirling dust, but also by this small black-haired, brown-eyed nine-year-old boy, who I thought had the worst experience possible at a pristine YMCA summer camp. You know, I thought to myself, “It wasn’t like the brochure.”

Who we are is in constant metamorphous. Even if we like to think that we are not subject to change, there is a world around us ever spinning, ever changing. How I have developed my own personal philosophy of helping has been the aggregation of interacting experiences in the world(s) that I choose to live in and my response to them.

How we become the people we are may be as important as who we are. These pictures from where we come from provide our own life’s “collage.” These are the imprinters of the mind that filter and monitor how we see and react to our own illusion of reality. My illusion of reality began some forty or so years ago in a small agricultural supported town in North Central Washington called Cashmere.

It was named Cashmere because it reminded one of the founding fathers of a valley in India called Kashmir. Unlike today, the founding mothers were required to be found at home. My formative developmental stages were probably typical of small town life in America everywhere. Generally, life operated in a conservative; Republican and white nuclear family home where religious; patriotic, and moral values were anthems for living. My stepfather’s philosophy of “my way or the highway” and “when I ask you to jump, you say how high,” probably typified the paternal parenting philosophy of the time. At least that was my reality.

When hypocrisy is discovered rebellion may follow. I was linked to the children of the 60s. Sex, drugs, rock and roll, and the Vietnam War influenced me. Sociologists call these cohort groups. Though not operating on such a grandiose scale, I, in my own way rebelled against the establishment.

This was a time in my life for a lot of rationalization and ambiguous correlations. War (Vietnam) was bad. Peace was good. Being mellow was good. So be a peaceful mellow “dude” and “roll up a joint.” Unfortunately this evolved into my means of coping and dealing with intense emotional pain for many years to come. Alcohol, drugs, and music became my “fixes.” Going along with the theme “no hope without dope, substance abuse was an emotional amnesty.

A divorce and two drunken driving convictions later I find myself being assessed and judged by so-called experts whose first credential many times is that they too were substance abusers. I guess it’s all right if you want to hurt yourself. When you are way out of line and hurt others it is not at all right. It was time to release the pain and the shame. Enough was enough. Perhaps he didn’t realize my motivation. He just met me so how could he judge me? He certainly didn’t know the story of my stubborn German grandfather who after fifty years of serious drinking chose to stop for the last fifteen years of his life. But here he was, the chemical dependency counselor, labeling me an alcoholic and needing in-house treatment and counseling for at least six months. Not only was I going to start drinking again, he added that I was immediately going to get drunk and kill a mother and her baby.

I did learn that honesty is not always the best policy, especially when dealing with the system. Learning my lesson on honesty, I had another assessment done where I was assessed not to have an alcohol problem. I became a nonsmoker three months later. Alcohol ceased to be a issue in my life.

If you follow the “when one door closes another door opens” philosophy, an injury closed my career as a carpenter but opened up the opportunity to attain my four-year college degree. When a person is empowered; has the right information, and is motivated, things can happen. These were the components necessary to overcome the system in the form of a labor and industries vocational counselor. I made it happen for me.

I do not consider myself a highly religious person. I do consider myself a highly spiritual one and have my own growing relationship with God. As a boy growing up so many years ago I was fortunate to meet Rev. James A. Moore at the local Methodist Church. The church was place to play basketball and music. It served as a calm sanctuary, safe from a stepfather’s anger and rage. One evening I ran into Rev. Moore and feeling smug and cocky I said “What’s this God thing? You can’t prove he exists?” “Well” he replied, “You can’t prove you exist.” I said “I can too. I’m standing on this chair.” He said “you think you’re standing on the chair.” We went round-and-round, I making declarative statements about my senses and he replying, “you think you’re….” Besides “pulling the rug out from under me,” Rev. Moore gave me a little lesson in faith. Either that or I experienced my first mind fornication, my illusion of reality.

The clock moves forward and I’m in another crisis of faith. I am in intense personal crisis. Does God have a plan for me? I’m living in Mount Vernon, WA and the landlord is a crack head. I’m singing the blues in the windowless basement of the “Charley Manson Suite” in the “Hotel California. The woman who once was crazy about me is just crazy. The illusion of love has been shattered. I no longer mattered … to her anyway. At the time it seemed pretty important. I remember one of my mentors saying “If it doesn’t kill ya, you’ll be stronger.” How we frame things is so important. Adversity can serve as a teacher. God is carving character. I found that by helping others we in turn help ourselves. We learn from everybody. When we “tune-in instead of broadcast” we can learn a lot. I learn in my associations with the young and old; so-called developmentally disabled adults, and from people of all walks of life. Mentors shape us, as do our adversaries. I was blessed to encounter two of the best human beings in the field of hypnotherapy, Ron Stubbs and Kevin Hogan. They have helped me to help myself. In this way I can help others. The life force that creates healing comes from the heart. You start there. It has laid the foundation of a “client-centered” therapy approach that maintains the clients hold the key to their own healing and deep personal change.

“He said here take it. This is my lucky dime. I want you to have it.”

It is funny how wisdom may come to us. This small black-haired, brown-eyed nine-year-old boy, who I thought had the worst experience possible at a pristine YMCA summer camp, became the counselor. I don’t recall that being on the brochure either.

He also left me with this lesson: “If you care to know us … find out what we have been through … if you wish to talk to us … know what you are talking about …AND if you wish to help us. Please help yourselves first.”

Fred Langford can be contacted through this website or by email at bigfred534@hotmail.com

Join Free! My e-zine newsletter will keep you up-to-date on upcoming events, and special product offerings. Click Here to Join now!