Release ~

 These words recently graced my little iPhone screen today:  “I feel like you’ve let something or some kind of negative feeling go over this last week and you seem legitimately lighter, happier and I’m just proud of how far you’ve come with everything.”  I had to read it twice, and then I needed to step away from my desk, go for a little stroll around the campus, and pull the ever-present bandana out of my pocket and wipe away the copious tears that rolled down my cheeks.  In the hours since I received that text, I’ve read it maybe a dozen times.  It wasn’t so much that someone else noticed so much as it was that the very feelings expressed have been radiating through me the last couple of weeks.  The last few years have been the most horrifying, trying, physically debilitating as well as emotionally devastating.  I’ve turned inward, again and again, looking at myself as opposed to outside influences, causes, or excuses, digging diligently to find what it is I needed to do to release the pain, burden, and weight of the travesty’s that have haunted me these last three years.  Unbeknownst to all but a select few, the trauma, damage, and ever-evolving struggle from countless TBI’s (Traumatic Brain Injury’s) is far worse than the repeated strokes I’ve suffered (four to be exact) since March of 2014.  The real battle lies within in a space far beyond the mind.  The simplest of tasks can seem insurmountable at the most frustrating of times.  From names to tying my shoes, to the very horrifying realization that I sometimes forget where I’m going.  The most frightening conversation I’ve had in that time was with my Neurologist.  The mention of CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy) stopped every sense within me with the exception of absolute horror.  For a few minutes, I sat quietly and alone listening to him over a speaker phone as I lay in the ER alone after my most recent stroke.  Yet I did not hear much past his first few sentences.  If you are unfamiliar with CTE just give it a google and you might begin to understand the absolute and sheer horror of hearing those words on the worst day of your life.

  My most recent stroke would prove to be the most horrifying and debilitating.  I spent approximately eleven hours alone in an ER.  I had a few friends and an ex-wife reach out but the one person I wanted so badly to be with me was not interested in being beside me.  That’s the hard and fast truth and I’ll leave the reasons, a timeline of events (yes this person knew I was in the ER) right there.  My fear was vastly different not only because of the words uttered by the Neurosurgeon but also because of the severity and quickness for which this one came on.  I was genuinely afraid like I had never been before.  I wasn’t angry at being alone, I was saddened that for once I simply wanted a hand in mine, a voice to speak for me when I couldn’t, and a companion to fill the void that was being excavated from the hope I had built since my first stroke three years prior.  Ironically it was that time alone in those moments that awakened me to the fact that the strength I needed, the companion, and most of all the kindness and affection I so desperately wanted in that very moment….lie within me.  I had it all along.  My solitude, my inability to articulate my words (fun stroke byproduct), and my absolute horror, allowed me to sit quietly alone in that room.  I sat as the Care Flight staff came in and out, trying to coordinate and decide should I be flown to a level one trauma center.  I’d be able to intermittently text a few people but I, of course, made it sound like everything was fine.  Inside I was anything but. 

  On that day I’d discover a strength for which I am still trying to understand.  I’d cry alone in a dark room.  I’d be unable to eat for days.  Was CTE a real possibility?  I knew what it was and I knew that it was/is a progressive degenerative disease found in people who have had severe a severe or repeated blows to the head.  I fit that bill alright!  As the days passed after that neurological incident…I began to hear Dr. Larson’s words reverberating in my consciousness.  Asleep, awake, in meetings… “This has all the symptoms of CTE Mr. Meyer”…so I dug in and began reading more.  I also turned inward once again and away from the things in my life that weren’t improving my quality of life.  The things for which brought me no joy suddenly became life draining.  I realized as I read, asked more questions, and spent more time alone and meditating, that CTE cannot be truly diagnosed while we are alive.  It is only through the study of brain tissue after death that they can determine whether or not you truly suffered from CTE.  It’s so vastly complex that it’s unlikely it will be truly understood in my lifetime.  And so I continued to look internally.  I began to shift my focus to what was “wrong” with me.  I stopped counting the things I hadn’t quite accomplished, the un-chased dreams, and I began to look at life through my own eyes.  The eyes of a man who’d endured these things in silence and alone.  You see no matter who stands beside you…the real battles of TBI’s, Strokes, or even CTE…are waged internally.  I slowly began to shift my focus to the things “wrong with me” and began to spend more time alone quietly falling in love with all that was right with me and all the amazing days I already had in this life.  My relationship would fall apart and it was truly refreshing to finally let go of something that was only bringing me further pain and suffering.  I began reaching out (and involved my daughter) to friends and family we hadn’t spoken to in some time and simply told as many people as I could how wonderful they were.  How much they meant to me.  How beautiful they were/are and how much I appreciated them.  It was, and still is, one of the most uplifting and healing things I have done and continue to do.

  I continued to release negativity and doubt allowing more positivity and light to enter those voids.  Living with a diagnosis that “could be many things and yet is surely not something minor” can stop you in your tracks or it can ignite a fire to change your perception.  Releasing that which brings you down is a simple act.  Acknowledge it, your part in it, feel it, and let it go.  Simply by feeling it and saying “I’m done with this” or via some ceremony.  For me, I sat alone in the backyard and burned the pages of a journal I had kept full of the pain….and cried as I watched the ashes float to heaven or fall peacefully into the snow.  No true blame.  Simply neutrality and acceptance.  It’s a practice I strive for each day.  Gratitude instead of hate.  Acceptance instead of pain.  Love where once lived anger.  I hurt less now…inside.  My headaches have begun to subside and the other “issues” seem to have slowly calmed down.  Is it over?  I have no clue but to paraphrase one of my favorite movies (The Shawshank Redemption); “Remember, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies”.  I know that if I can replace the negative things with some form of hope or kindness…then maybe…just maybe…I will live on!  I’m feeling more clear with each passing day and within each practice of gratitude, grace, FORGIVENESS, kindness, hope and the replacing of the life suckers in my own life…I’m feeling like “YES..as a matter of fact I am letting so very much go and I am lighter than I’ve ever been”.  My self-love is beautiful and so altruistic and kind.  Not arrogant or conceited…simply a matter of releasing that which does not serve the continuity of happiness for which I hope evolved into a life worth remembering.  Whether that’s another day or another 40 years….I’m free now….free!  My diagnosis is uncertain and ever evolving..and yet my path is clear….release the pain and fill the void with love!  Release!

Rise Again

 I recall with vivid and gory detail my first amateur Muay Thai fight.  I can still hear the crowd pulsating, moving, cheering, jeering and flowing to the walk out song of my fellow pugilists.  What was supposed to be a small “smoker” of local gyms showcasing their fighters turned into quite the ruckus and one hell of a bloodbath.  Unbeknownst to me, my very first (legal) fight ended up being the co-main event.  I’ll never forget the surreal feeling of sitting in the back of this huge gym in Fort Worth getting my hands wrapped and simply trying to melt into the façade of the room around me.  There were A & B locker rooms full of other fighters.  In the “A” room it was packed with fighters, coaches, cut men, and a few friends here and there.  I was alone, as I’d find myself many times in battles since then.  No family…no friends.  I didn’t want to tell anyone what I was doing.  It was a dream I’d step into with only my coaches and cut man.  The room smelled of adrenaline and sweat.  Pure anticipation radiated through that room.  I was more afraid than I had EVER been up to that point in my life.  I wasn’t afraid of pain, of being punched or even rendered unconscious.  I was 20 years old and I was petrified of failing.  I was afraid of getting knocked down and NOT getting back up.  The entirety of my life up to that point (and really all of it since) had been a battle.  An all-out war most of the time.  My path up to this point was a virtual battlefield of not listening to those close to me, making monumental mistakes, paying for said mistakes, and essentially doing whatever the hell I wanted to.  It seemed I’d eternally go against the grain of life.   I had learned to pick myself back up from the depths of hell but I was not in any way prepared for the fear I’d feel that night. 

  I had trained so hard to get to this point.  I was in the best shape of my life and completely immune to pain on so many levels.  Why was I so afraid?  It was/is simple.  I was afraid to let the few people close to me down.  I was afraid to fail in their eyes.  I never told my dad about this fight.  I am just understanding now that what I wanted to do that evening was prove to him that I was not a quitter and I’d never stay down no matter how low life got or how beat down I’d become.  I was nauseous as I got word that I was up next.  I remember my coaches firing me up..the slaps on the back..the last check of the gloves and the placing of the towel over my head to keep my eyes focused and the views of the crowd at bay.  I’ll never forget my coach looking me dead in the eyes and grabbing my face and pulling it close to him and those words… “I know you’ll never quit, take the war to him, Jim”.  It still brings tears to my eyes simply for the fact that this man truly believed in me.  He had seen me get my ass handed to me in so many ways over the prior three years.  He believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself.  Suddenly there were two men in my life for whom I was willing to go to war for…simply to prove I was worthy of their love and admiration. 

  I stepped through the curtain and I distinctly remember feeling as if I would vomit right there.  My walk out song blared and helped drown out the crowd.  My blood began to flow freely laced with adrenaline and fire.  My opponent walked out first and stood in the ring staring right at me.  I engaged in the stare down and suddenly I was overcome with relief.  This man was here to inflict pain and I was there to reciprocate.  We were going to have a war!!!! I don’t remember the announcer, his words, or him even speaking.  I don’t recall the referee standing between us and going over the rules of war.  All I recall is his eyes and my unrelenting gaze straight into his soul.  I do however remember the bell ringing for the first of three two-minute rounds.  To this day I’ve never experienced such a beautiful, and yet brutal, six minutes.  The times in between rounds are still a blur and yet I remember my coach’s face and the excitement.  I don’t know what all he said in those moments and yet the look in his eyes said it all.  He believed in me.   Words were unnecessary at that point. 

  It was the middle of the second round where I learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life.  I was beyond exhausted, my eyebrow was cut and my shins, ribs, face, head, and every other body part seemed to ache and burn.  He was in no better shape.  We came for war and neither of us would give up.  It is to this day one of the most poignant memories of my life.  In the middle of that round, I was struggling to see from the blood pouring from my brow.  I was struggling to breathe from the blood pouring down my throat.  The doctor cleared my eye, and my opponents busted nose, just prior to this round.  We were in the midst of a battle of attrition when suddenly I dropped my left (and this wouldn’t be the last time in the ensuing years) and suddenly there was a shin impacting my skull.  For a few seconds, I couldn’t see, feel, or hear.  All I remember is opening my eyes and the gray flooring of the ring is all I could see.  I had been knocked out.  What felt like minutes would end up being less than a few seconds.  I’d later learn that I was clearly “out” as I fell but I hit the mat and popped back up.  My recollection of those seconds was the feeling of being “done”.  I felt I had nothing left to give.  That moment has remained a metaphor for so much in my life.  I wish I had footage from that moment to remind myself that NOTHING will keep me down unless I let it.  I remember the complete exhaustion and the feeling of being completely out of my body for a moment.  Being knocked out isn’t as bad as most people think.  Your brain shuts down to protect itself and your body, the pain comes later.  My recollection is as clear today as it’s ever been.  I truly had nothing left….but I thought of those two men and all the shit I had endured in my teens.  All I had put my dad through.  I only needed a spark to ignite something fierce within and those thoughts ignited a raging inferno.  Somehow I quickly popped up and made it through the round.  Each of us would be checked again by the doctor with me having no recollection of that break in my corner.  Again…I remember coach’s eyes and this time I saw tears.  I’ll go to my deathbed with that moment forever burned in me.  It was a pure pride and later he’d tell me it was absolute admiration.  I didn’t quit…I didn’t stay down…and I rose again.

  Of the 4 amateur fights I’d partake, this is the one I’ll never forget and I can see, hear, smell, and feel those six minutes like it just happened.  We’d get 45 seconds into the last round and I’d return the favor to my opponent.  He’d not return to his feet.  I imagine I was supposed to be elated, triumphant, happy it was over, but I was worried about him and dropped immediately to my knees by his side.  We had gloves on so I couldn’t hold his hand…I couldn’t do anything but sit and watch him find his own way back to the light.  I was horrified at the sight of another young man lying there completely unconscious.  He’d be fine and rise again.  I don’t remember the cheers, I don’t remember my hand being lifted.  I remember these moments described above and I remember kneeling in the middle of the ring and wrapping my arms around him and saying “this is the best day of our lives” and seeing the smile on his face.  We thanked one another and hugged again.  I never saw him again and often wonder if he has so many vivid memories from those six minutes. 

  I’d hide that night from my parents for the duration of my life…until now.  I lived with three roommates, bartended, and was a student so I went home and locked myself away as best I could.  I shared with very few what happened that night.  I was bruised, bloodied, and had stitches for weeks.  I’d not go by my parents’ house for fear they’d see their son as beaten, a heathen, or a disastrous mess.  And yet today I hold that evening as one of the highest achievements of my life.  Not because I beat another man.  I wasn’t the first or the last and I’d be on the receiving end just as many times…but I got the hell back up when I had nothing left.  All it took was the will to fight, someone in my corner, a purpose, and someone to believe in me.  We all get knocked down..sometimes to a place we cannot fathom and we cannot imagine how we will get up.  I’ve continued to be knocked down in my journey through life but I keep getting up. I will bend but I will NEVER break.  23 years later I am still a lover of the way of war…and I hope you can see why.  We all get knocked out…the question is…will you get back up and fight one more round?!  To a father who never gave up on me….that night was for you dad!

  

Brevity

  I find it fitting that the approximate size of our heart is equal to the size of our fists.  Immeasurable is the actual depth yet I’m convinced there are limitless possibilities there.   Of more certainty is the brevity for which you can sustain certain emotions within said heart.  The metaphor isn’t lost on me when it comes to my heart being the size of my fist for my fists represent the fighting end of my spirit.  There’s a correlation there between that space.  At the end of our hearts, there’s the will to fight.  Buried within us there’s an indomitable spirit to fight to maintain what lies within that fist-sized muscle.  There is a truth and innocence in finding the spirit to remain open to the tsunami of emotions that our hearts can emit.  Like a new dawn melting away the frost, we can allow our emotions to flow freely and unencumbered.  We can dig deep and fight for what we feel inside, unapologetically and without fear.  We honor ourselves when we acknowledge and freely feel what others try and stuff down.  There’s poetry in reaching deep and letting what lies within flow freely as opposed to damning the rushing waves.  Giving yourself space and permission to feel those emotions can allow you to fight one more round for what you want, believe, or believe.

  We are, each of us, beautiful in so many ways and when you feel stifled, beaten down, unappreciated, or like you simply aren’t enough, you really only need to turn inward to find the light and passion that lies deep within.  Learning to tap into something beyond the basal level of emotions is a journey that can be wayward, scary, ridiculous, but ultimately it’s an awakening.  You have the right to feel whatever it is you are feeling.  You have the right to share it but you have an absolute duty to honor it.  While those you love can give you space and freedom to open up on such a level, only you can find the courage to do so before the brevity of the situation is lost in the next wave of emotion.  Travel lightly, speak your truth, and eventually, you will find a virtual tap has been opened allowing you to express, love, share, and feel in ways you likely didn’t think possible.  Ball up those fists (figuratively) and swing for the fences.  Face your fears and step into a cleansing synergy where love meets reality.  Be brave, love kindly, hope, and open yourself to the idea of accepting your own feelings. 

  It’s taken me 43 years and many hard fought battles, painful lessons, and tears beyond description to finally allow myself to feel THAT deeply.  I cannot imagine bottling up those deep and beautiful feelings that reside in the deepest recesses of my heart and soul ever again.  Therein lies a freedom that I will ever embrace.  While what lies there may not be received, it matters little as long as you honor, allow, feel and release those things and in turn receive the knowledge that comes with releasing something so terrifying (to some)…something so difficult to feel, much less share.  Do not stand by or stuff down what is in your heart.  Speak your truth and set yourself free!  You don’t “feel too much”…not for the right person/people.  Feel it, release it, love it, embrace it, and accept it and I promise you will feel a deeper sense of worth!

  So open the flood gates, roll with the punches, fight for love and honor, and when the reservoir has become empty…dance in the silence and embrace the emptiness for it is nothing more than a clean slate and a chance to start over.  Give yourself permission to refill that space with the beautiful feelings you already possess.  

Inside Out

 Love begins, ends, lives, and is perpetuated from within.  We spend our lives searching for approval, for love, and for affection that already lives within each of us.  I recently watched a video where it was pointed out that we enter into this life with no knowledge.  We don’t know good from bad.  

Someone has to teach us, therefore we are conditioned at a very young age to seek out acceptance, affirmation, and love.  Add social media to the mix and you instantly have a virtual boiling pot for acceptance seekers.  Don't get me wrong I've been there.  We can also find ourselves seeking out these things, and many more, when we were unfortunate enough to find these things neglected in our youth.  These two examples are troubling when you look at those around you and bear witness to their constant need for approval, likes, etc.  It’s far more common than I think we will admit. Walk into any coffee shop with Wi-Fi and it’s likely a land of social media zombies staring at any given device and yet there’re tangible souls sitting within arm’s reach.   We’ve forgotten the most important “connection” isn’t to the internet…but to one another and more so oneself.

  As a photographer I am conditioned to see the beauty all around me.  My eyes are drawn to what “I” feel is beautiful and yet to many what I see as beautiful is anything but.  I find joy beyond description in finding beauty where many see none.  I'm always saddened when I have a client who wants me to remove a blemish, cover a freckle, etc.  As I've gotten older I've learned to put the camera down, make the client FEEL beautiful (respectfully and appropriately so) before I pick up my camera in hopes of showing them just how beautiful they truly are.  It's an aspect of my craft that I'm extremely passionate about.  There's nothing that makes me happier than to see someone who lacks self-esteem fall in love with their own photograph and maybe fall a little more in love with themselves.  I have been privileged to photograph so many beautiful places, animals, sunsets, and so on, but my favorite still is capturing the beauty in people. I have a very good friend, we'll call her Jordan, who was a part of a photo shoot that still warms my soul years later.  We had known each other prior so we already had that dynamic going for us.  I already knew her to be a lover of her own being.  She's an amazing soul and I knew it wouldn't be hard to photograph her.  There were 4 other women at that evening’s session and all but Jordan were tense.  She was there early to help me set up and as the ladies trickled in the anxiety was palpable.  Jordan took control and welcomed each lady, made them comfortable and helped me turn the evening into one of my most memorable shoots of my career.  Photographing women can be tough.  They are constantly bombarded with what society, media, and retailers want us to think is beautiful.  With such grace Jordan assured each lady of her beauty.  I like to think I took part but this was different. Most people, men especially, would think that photographing four either scantly clad, or nude, woman as something simple and yet it’s very nerve wracking.  It's a part of my craft to maintain a professional level of confidence....and being the father of a little girl...a man who was married to a wonderful woman for 16 years....and what I hope is a decent man...it's my job to be respectful and assure these ladies are safe but the energy from Jordan was a game changer for me.

   So that evening I saw a side of my friend Jordan that I had never seen (no pun intended)...not only was she such an incredible lady to assist me in comforting the others but when she stepped in front of the  lights there was instantly a synergy between model and photographer.  Way beyond the often used "natural" adjective.  There was an energy between us.  Nothing inappropriate at all.  It was beautiful.  Knowing her prior and feeling comfortable with myself gave me a personal level of comfort and I felt a sense of love photographing her.  Her love for herself was stunning and it just flowed back and forth.  Of the thousands of images I have taken, they're still some of my favorite portraits. 

   You see in my opinion Jordan didn’t step in front of my lens for approval.  She already loved herself as completely as she could.  She cared little who “liked” her photos…she was there to bear her soul.  She'd be the first to tell you she's a work in progress, as we all are.  She took part in this shoot so she could give her husband a unique Christmas gift.  My point is that when we love ourselves first and fundamentally, we no longer have the need to find it externally.  The need is abolished and it's a beautiful thing to feel or even witness.  No longer do we have to spend our time and energy in vain pursuits.  All we have and need is right here. When we reach this place it’s rarely a onetime trip, it too is a work in progress.  It ebbs and flows like any relationship and yet it becomes easier as you relentlessly cultivate love for yourself.  Suddenly we can enter another relationship with a partner without our old tried and failed habits and expectations.  Sure you can still have boundaries and certain qualities such as honesty, devotion, etc...but when your partner loves themselves to the point of not searching for it externally, there's a synergy waiting to be explored!   The sum of two becomes greater than they would be on their own, and yet on their own either is still whole.  The challenges of relationships will still apply.  Boundaries will be established and without buy in, effort, constant communication, and the willingness to work back and forth, well even two souls fully in love with themselves cannot make things work without negotiation, understanding, etc.  It’s not magic and in fact it’s more work to maintain that love of oneself while still being attentive to your partner.

   Making the conscious effort to dig deep and love ourselves is tricky.  It’s a foreign concept in this day and age and especially in this country.  We care more, and spend more time and money, cultivating the “image” we want and perceive as “good”.  It’s a conundrum when you are photographer.  You are supposed to show beauty and yet my personal journey (especially over the last few years) has been exactly what I speak of…learning to accept and love myself first, and at all costs.  I’m far from perfect and I too am a work in progress but I see my path and no matter how many times I fall down, I rise again and keep moving forward.  So when we spend all that time and money on an image, how is it surprising that we become such a superficial bunch?  As my journey has unfolded I have blundered, fallen off the wagon so to speak, and failed in my own ways but my hope is that by sharing my thoughts maybe it will touch one person and help them to see that what I see through my lens (as many photographers will tell you) is merely a reflection of what’s inside.  Don’t be afraid to face the brutalities (if they exist) of your past.  They will haunt you until you banish them, accept them, move around them, or understand them, eventually paving the way for a deeper sense of love for oneself.  You may think you are fully capable of loving another but if you allow the pain(s) of the past to remain…they will continue to remain just that..roadblocks.  You allow the past to hold and harness your energy and no matter what you may think, it’s affecting your ability to love yourself fully and therefore your ability to love another fully.  All the time spent refining your exterior will do nothing to refine what is deeper and more important, what lies within.  As a society we pour all that money into gym memberships, the right makeup, so on and so forth, but we seem to be unwilling or afraid to invest in the inside.  Sometimes that requires help.  Our fear to seek help from the outside (in the way of therapy, counseling, or whatever you want to call it) is a complete contradiction to our desire and willingness when we seek acceptance from the outside!  It’s a shame and my journey over the last few years has in fact involved outside “help” and I’m so proud and unashamed to admit it.  It’s random, all over the place, and at differing times, but sitting with someone and actually “working” through the process is exactly what it took for me to be where I am today and I have zero regrets.  My hope and goal is to be the best version of myself that I can be not only for me but for my children.  No excuses.  Less judgmental, more aware and resilient in my boundaries in ALL relationships, more kind, and most of all more loving to myself and in turn those around me. 

  I’m grateful to all who have helped me along the way, including those who were a part of the tougher aspects of the journey, the painful aspects.  The one’s I see in the rearview and yet I can smile deeply and know I did my best and will continue to do so, and hoping I helped them along on their own journey.  Knowing I’ve faced the demons of my past, worked tirelessly to understand, accept and embrace all that I am, I can look in the mirror and know that being in love means loving who and what I am first and foremost, and loving what is indeed in the mirror right before me.  No arrogance, no cockiness, just a love of who I am.  I am confident that continuing to do so will someday find me in a place where a partner of the same ilk stands before me fully in love with herself, complete, whole, and willing to do the work!  There’s nothing sexier than confidence and that starts with self-love through and through.  An often used cliché, that consequently makes me uncomfortable, is “you complete me”.  In my eyes that statement should read “you compliment me”.  Seek out those like Jordan, who exude and reciprocate the energy that lies within you.  Find and cultivate the possibilities for synergistic, equal, and divine love! Do the work internally and watch the beauty flow from within.  Be willing to accept yourself fully and meet others right in the middle.  Do not look, or expect, for something within another that you do not possess within yourself, or are not willing to cultivate and share.  It’s not about “change”….it’s about “growth”.  So go out, find yourself, discover the untapped possibilities, harness what’s inside, meditate, cooperate, collaborate, compromise when it’s reciprocated, refine where necessary but above all…look within and you shall never find yourself without!  Live with your heart wide open....love from the inside out!  Everything you “need” lies within you!

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