Backyard and Leaves

It goes like this, off to
The snow and return.
On the table pomegranates and persimmons,

Remembering walking and kicking the fallen leaves.
The smell and the cold uplifting.
Speeding up I bang the fence with a branch,

On a walk today I look into backyards.
My wife sought out other living rooms
I liked the distance, the long view;
Into chairs, green lawns, and
Empty people views.

 I appreciate each filled lung of
Cold, crisp, clearing air.
Colors seen .

Ode To The Living

Ode To The Living

Auntie Cha Cha that's what
Her nieces called her.

Her eyes saw me. Dark
No longer blue.

Still forever.

That dam picture above my desk
We both tried to sell it.
It rings of antiquity.
Greek Charron, The Reaper.

Forever in his boat.
Gaunt, singular dead
To our suffering.

.

Told my fellow workers.
Charron's boat named Cha Cha.
The boats name Cha Cha, What the fuck.

Me looking nightly at Charon's boat;
Not forward but
Being pulled backwards.

Exodus of the living.

Perfected ignorance in a globe of wonder.

marching for stasis

Skill plus denial is a formula for stasis; stasis is a damming of Orgone. True energetic movement is channeled into work but it's unconscious. Skill allows one to only focus on the job. Brimming with confidence, success at the job allows denial to flourish. Stasis protects one from opening up to experiencing the flow of Orgone. Unknown this denial is a way of life that gives little pleasure.  

Each person's stoppage, in Orgone economy, happens at different abusive times. It is one's character that forms to protect the realization of perceived danger, the earlier the abuse is worse; abuse will freeze a unified experience; stasis is achieved. The no becomes a aridity of musculature, and becomes unconscious. Armor is a wall of stasis. The earlier the abuse the longer it take to experience the details of the armor.

 Humans produce Orgone that must be released otherwise living will be intolerable. Stasis can mutate into anxiety as the Orgone pushes against the armor, irritatingly, unrelenting and will not be understood or tolerated, and addiction can become a dangerous cure. 

Stasis is unconscious. Stasis is a form of isolation that unconsciously causes great anger. Failure cannot be tolerated for it a unconscious reminder of blocked, unresolved trauma. Denial is not experienced. Expressing, protecting stasis is familiar behavior. Ones character, armor has been formed to do this. 

Change that causes anxiety is not pleasant and not understood and the emotional  depth to express feelings that would unlock stasis is unfamiliar. Without Therapy Stasis cannot become conscious.

Human beings like all mammals depend on social interaction to provide fulfillment. The rise of addictive anti depressants deadens awareness of stasis. Addiction is a failed attempt to find satisfactory release of  blocked stasis. Armor is the wall that stops pleasurable Orgone. Stasis is stilled Orgone. Working compulsively insures that stasis will not find a satisfactory release.

Stasis relies on a character without much depth, locking the body causes distraction and misguided thinking and inappropriateness and often addiction. The  internal dialogue becomes overly thoughtful, or obsessive instead of empathetic.
Releasing the Orgone through loving heterosexual  intercourse, because its the deepest release of armor, will remove stasis and reduce obsessive chatter, addictions, and other neurotic behavior.

Working

Take your hands out of your pockets.
Pull in your ass, buddy,
And get to work.
This place is a toilet with stars.

pinball rings me up

Pinball rings continually, waiting for
The win that happens spontaneously.
Like the time in the middle of
The night, a bus
Stop cafeteria and won 56 games.
But the bus had to leave.

All the armor hooks get understood in a flourish, finally, the bell cascades,
The musical conclusion.
Like running a pool game.
Like the sudden alignment.
All the connections
Brighten, appear from nowhere,

Honesty begins the game.
The ball now is free.
Ringing
Whole, clear, understood,
All the balls in play.

Escaped

Escaped

I was in my kitchen

I heard a loud pop.

The blue light, it disappeared, 

Laying in

Bed an invisible

Hand touched my face.

Viewed

The twilight. 

Clouds of Blakean 

Men. Stars that stared.

The map is invisible.

Reclaim is pus filled.

Stuffed down.

The work is crooked;

Lit up from an

Ugly struggle.

Sour torture.

Yellow green,

Like a sucker punch, released the beast.

Becoming the immense tree,

Birds flying. Smiling at the

Red rose. 

Crippled

Blueberries, pies and lilac trees
In our secretive desperate meetings.
Blueberry pie at home and lilac torn and given.
It all went so fast, my rhythm.
I would lose everything ultimately,
White, soft, warm,


My wondering 
Of a previous time.
Much was missing then.
The wetness, that smell of flesh,
Of milk that was sweet.
Of mountainous flesh that was safe.
.

I would lose everything ultimately,
White, soft, warm,
White, soft, warm

Myron Sharaf

Myron included me, something an Orgonomist would never do: no rejection, no anger. Emotional connection is paramount within families and I became aware that I was not included. Being excluded elicits rage. Dr. Sharaf, author of Fury On Earth, biography of Dr. Wilhelm Reich, and part of the Rangeley, Maine group,  knew the importance of being left out, and though I was visible to Myron, and he could see the Orgone  in me, emoting the rage seemed absence in Myron. Did he access the early primary Orgone?  Perhaps his demeanor  fooled me but  my anger, and Orgonomy left me aware in an area that Myron didn't project.

For Wilhelm Reich, for Dr. Rinn it was Doctor, not for Dr. Sharaf, it was Myron and the friendship built on that first name basis was paramount. The difference was Dr. Reich recognized, understood the importance of his knowledge and insisted to be called Dr. Reich and not Willy. First names confuses the patient. Dr. Reich knew to be successful he had to have total cooperation, and first name basis is hidden competition. Dr. Sharaf never finished his understanding of his personal Orgone Therapy. Until the  Orgone patient stops misunderstanding the need for  Dr. Reich's forceful approach he cannot be objective in his critique of  Dr. Reich. Calling Dr. Reich belligerent  and using hearsay accounts is in bad taste. 

I was a tough case for Myron. I am a confirmed Dr. Wilhelm Reich advocate. Orgonomy saved my life. The Therapy continues to amaze me. It continues to open me up in so many unexpected ways. My addictive struggles became understood. Addiction is a substitute reality. It is unconscious action that hides a reality that has been buried by abuse. Finally the impotency can be transformed as an adult into freeing rage.

Myron, no doubt totally respected Dr. Reich but it got convoluted when Dr. Reich developed a relationship with Myron's wife. A hard transition followed though Myron absolutely loved Dr. Reich's work. I heard Myron give a talk and he was astoundingly clear in explaining Dr. Reich's history, his importance and his work. Yet when I spent some time with Myron in therapy, and Myron was truly perceptive, the therapy was different than Orgonomy. I had spent many hours with different therapists but this was Myron's synthesis and it would not have saved me. Oh no I needed a shovel, a jackhammer, and Myron was soft, loving, and wonderful. He was there for you. He knew suffering and he would hold your hand when you cried.  He became a friend to me and many others.  

I asked him why he changed Orgone Therapy to his therapy and he simply said Orgone Therapy didn't work for him. For me Myron's other anger releasing Bioenergetics' techniques became just techniques and were less empowering. Myron relied on the contact he learned from Orgonomy to heal. He knew for most of us the deep armor was unreachable. Abuse 
could only be mediated, and kindness, gentleness was his solution, and I miss him.

Richie

Mrs. Wilson was stooped when she walked, she wore grey clothes, she seemed pinched: a  grumpy old woman who walked with a cane. She was my fifth grade teacher and I and others who were considered troubled or trouble makers were sent to her class. We heard she would not allow acting out. And I entered Mrs. Wilsons class I looked around, it all seemed pretty similar. Slowly over the year no one got too rowdy. Once, I got caught running up and down the stairs. My mother was only called once to hear about me. It was all pretty quiet. Mrs. Wilson worked her fear. We were controlled but our silent acknowledgement led to being covert, and unified. We would pool our money and sneak out to buy candy that we would share. That sugar rush that added to my food addiction. Candy, food an important distraction: the boredom, controlled deadness could be perverted. A saving evil.

The good was that most of us were graduated to Mr. Becker's class. The first teacher that took a interest in us after school. Sports particularly helped us. That is when I first saw Richie Brown hit a baseball. I had seem Richie before in Mrs. Wilson's class and in different activities, though we did share winning the color war, a crayon drawing,   But his hitting was a revelation. I was struggling to be coordinated but Richie had no trouble being amazing. He could hit the ball to the deepest outfield, he could have ran the bases twice.

I was in the batters box. Waiting for my turn. Richie Brown was batting third. He could hit. I was so pumped to hit that ball. And then once again Richie  hit that ball to the deepest part of the schoolyard. I had never seem an adult hit it that far. He was eleven . I knew I  would hit the same except I dribbled the ball to the right. I swung as hard as Richie Brown. What made him so great and me so poor. And what effect did this have on me? I would continue to try  throughout my sports career to excel and ultimately I did well in basketball and track. And Richie Brown continued being the great natural athlete he was. But what was the difference between hitting well and not. I would think about this as an adult and knew finally it was hand eye connection. I swung late and didn't evaluate the balls speed and adjust for when the bat would hit the ball. Somehow RB knew this and I didn't. Was it simple as genetics or did someone coach him? I asked RB this question as an adult.

No Richie said, it was just something he was born with.  I believe my over zealousness had something to do with it. I was super anxious to do something. Later I realized it was to get noticed. Nothing except being invisible at home led me to over try and not be aware of timing. Richie Brown knew timing.



It all happened over fifty years ago and yet the closeness I felt during my early years stays important. It gave us all the knowledge that instinctively it felt good to be connected. Sports did more. It gave us an outlet to express our frustration with our culture. No  we would not reach the top of the pyramid but we would  enjoy each others company and form bonds that would last a lifetime. Friendship was instinctive movement of the Orgone. Understanding  is waiting within.

 

Opening Up

Looking back, I'm eleven, I see myself lying in bed, it is the afternoon and I am bored and that is all. So ultimately I decide to go to the schoolyard, anything is better. I am not hoping just going on. I see now that I am retarded, undeveloped. No one is modeling connection, showing me how to express myself. My brother is somewhere probably eating the last piece of chocolate cake, my sister has never been in contact. My mother waits for me at the door but she is so fat and so hard that I want nothing to do with her. My father the only one making contact is at work. No one.

So how is it that I found writing, how is it that I am alive. Yes there are some hints, some bones: as  a child, of course there is food and some weird puberty. Then some thin red line, some genetic karmic wisdom, in my life brought me to Orgone Therapy.

Even though it is confusing and frustrating not being understood, I desperately need to engage with others, need the interaction that opens up channels that are invisible, that only become conscious when shared.


Depression means compressed Orgone. No longer being spontaneous. Abused one is too thoughtful, memorized "secondary" (see Dr. Reich) consciousness develops and one believes this is what life  is. Addictions becomes a unconscious wish for loss of control; seeking the background pulse that is Orgone, that has been buried by abuse.
Orgone, still the enigma, yet who cares when it is such a wonder.

Work, Love, and Knowledge need focus, need activity  and without there continual insights comes frustration. This in everyday parlance is stress. The cultures simply is ruthless and has little time for these three and in therapeutic terms sublimation develops to deal with anxiety, and desire. Addiction is an extreme form of sublimation and is a dangerous temporary pleasure.

The addicted, the armored, will always reject you. Once there needs are satisfied your useless to them. True connection only exists when the Orgone flows, and the person is able to make loving connection. Till then what one learned in Orgone Therapy is to voice your anger, your bodily movement with affect, appropriately.

THE KEY

A thousand  keys, I found
In my dead wife's draw.
She was a classic, like her antiques
Preserved, confident, polished.
Each little box would have fifty old fashioned keys.
They were hid in plain sight like the thousand passing days,
Memories of family, old
Lovers. We wonder what are
We preying to find?
What is that we searched for?

Then I wish your dam lucky. Me, I walked right into my
Wise path.
Then I worked like hell and thought of
My wife, her keys, 
The straight jacket, my love

Her lock

Unconscious

Humans will shrink when nature, parents, siblings become unresponsive to ones needs. If one pays attention one becomes conscious that something is wrong. When humans find no connection, no pleasure, and no satisfaction then one relieves the stagnation  through addiction. The buildup up of Orgone is ongoing, like a stiff hose that has the water turned way up, the addiction, the release, becomes  necessary when not living Orgonomically. 

The connection between you and the Therapist is essential. The movement of Orgone can reveal disturbing memories. The therapist during uncomfortable times helps comfort, and reminds that all is not lost by supplying a pleasurable connection. That uncomfortable feeling later can be understood but initially one needs help. Orgonomically the flow of energy initially can be haphazard, and definitely spontaneous. Being with a Therapist will help balance the Orgone movement. 

When humans find no connection, no pleasure, and no satisfaction then one relieves the stagnation  through addiction. The buildup up of Orgone is ongoing, like a stiff hose that has the water turned way up, the addiction, the release, becomes necessary when not living Orgonomically. 

Orgone Therapy has the knowledge, the understanding to stop perversion, and realign a deeper, releasing connection.

Then amazingly the insight happens and there it is, always there but I had blocked out my true experience. When  I spoke with affect I would be rejected: expanding reminds others that  their character was formed as a defense to control the pain of abuse. Every time I seriously emoted there would be a rejection: being near me was frightening. The movement of Orgone will seem alien to those who have not been in Therapy, a reminder of what is missing, and there response will be defensive, distancing, and denial.

Self examination, even with the help of my great therapist, Dr. Rinn is an ever on going riddle. I have protected myself from seeing my life successfully. I didn't let in the abuse that my family so well provided me with. I was not only invisible but inconsequential. They were busy getting there needs met and my needs were them and I for sure would get none met. 

I never felt, it was like eating without taste. In fact I had eliminated feelings. In that way I could carry on, on a very low level, similar to a  amoeba, just reflexively without conscious meaning, like living in a fugue; easy to be taken advantage of and abused.

Reich quote
… we are biological energy systems, absorbing and producing energy from the environment in the form of air and food. This energy fuels our life process and its movement and expression is experienced as sensation - love, anger, desire fear, longing. Surplus energy is discharged in work, play, thought and particularly sexually. If there are no permanent blocks to discharge we remain healthy, our vital life functions maintain themselves without disturbance. If our primary needs as children have not been satisfied, we form armoring to cut off the awareness of the pain and distress caused by this frustration.