Yeah, Put Out That Fire In Your Head-With Patti Griffin’s Words
From “You Are Not Alone” In Mind
By Fritz Taylor
Sam Lowell was a queer duck, an odd-ball kind of guy who
couldn’t stop keeping his head from exploding with about seventeen ideas at
once and the determination to do all seventeen come hell or high water. And not
seventeen things like mowing the lawn or taking out the rubbish but what he
called “projects” which in Sam’s case meant political projects and writings and
other things along that line. Yeah, couldn’t put out “the fire in his head” the
way he told it to his long-time companion, Laura Perkins, one night at supper
after she had confronted him with the fact, and not for the first time, that he
was getting more irritable, was more often short with her of late, had seemed
distant, had seemed to be drifting into some bad place, a place where he was
not at peace with himself. That not “at peace” with himself an expression that
Laura had coined that night to express the way that she saw his current
demeanor. That would be the expression he would use in his group therapy group
to describe his condition when it met later that week.
He would almost shout out
the words in despair when the moderator-psychologist asked him pointedly
whether he felt at peace with himself at that moment and he pointed responded
immediately that he was not. Maybe it was at that point, more probably though
that night when Laura confronted him with his own mirror-self that told Sam his
was one troubled man.
Yea, it was that seventeen things in order and full steam
ahead that got him in trouble on more than on occasion. The need to do so the
real villain of the piece. See Sam had just turned seventy and so he should
have been trying to slow down, slow down enough to not try to keep doing those
seventeen things like he had when he was twenty or thirty but no he was not
organically capable of doing so , at least until the other shoe dropped.
Dropped hard.
It was that “other shoe” dropping that made him take stock
of his situation, although it had been too little too late. One afternoon a few
days after that stormy group therapy session he laid down on his bed to just
think through what was driving him to distraction, driving that fury inside him
that would not let him be, as he tried to put out the fire in his head. That
laying down itself might have been its own breakthrough since he had expected,
had fiercely desired to finish up an article that he was writing on behalf a
peace walk that was to take place shortly up in Maine, a walk that was
dedicated to stopping the wars, mostly of the military-type but also of the environmental
degradation against Mother Nature.
Sam, not normally introspective about his past, about the
events growing up that had formed him, events that had as he had told Laura on
more than one occasion almost destroyed him. So that was where he started,
started to try to find out why he could not relax, had to be “doing and making”
as Laura called it under happier circumstances, had to be fueling that fire in
his head. Realized that afternoon that as kid in order to survive he had
learned at a very young age that in order to placate (and avoid) his
overweening mother he had to keep his own counsel, had to go deep inside his
head to find solace from the storms around his house. For years he had thought
the driving force was because he was a middle child and thus had to fend for
himself while his parents (and grandparents) doted respectively his younger and
older brothers. But no it had been deeper than that, had been driven by feelings
of inadequacy before his mother’s onslaught against his fragile head.
As Sam traced how at three score and ten he could point to
various incidents that had driven him on, had almost made him organically
incapable of having a not ever active brain, of going off to some dark places
where the devils would not let him relax, that kept him going around and around
he realized that he was not able to relax on his own, would need something
greater than himself if he was to unwind. Laura had emphatically told him that
he would have to take that journey on his own, would have to settle himself
down if he was to gain any peace in his whole damn world. Sam suddenly noticed
after Laura had expressed her opinion that she had always been the picture of calm,
had been his rock when he was in his furies. Funny he had always
underestimated, always undervalued that calmness, that solid rock. He, in
frustration, at his own situation asked Laura how she had maintained the calm
that seemed to follow her around her world.
Laura, after stating that she too had her inner demons, had
to struggle with the same kind of demons that Sam had faced as a child and that
she still had difficulties maintaining an inner calm, told Sam that her daily
Buddha-like meditations had carried her to a better place. Sam was shocked at
her answer. He had always known that Laura was drawn to the spiritual trends
around their milieu, the “New Age stuff” he called her interest since it seemed
that she had taken tidbits from every new way to salvation outside of formal
religion (although she had had bouts with that as well discarding her Methodist
high heavens Jehovah you are on your own in this wicked old world upbringing
for the communal comfort of the Universalist-Unitarian brethren). He had
respected her various attempts to survive in the world the best way she could
but those roads were not for him, smacked too much of some new religion, some
new road that he could not travel on. But he was also desperate to be at peace,
a mantra that he was increasing using to describe his plight.
Then Laura suggested that they attend a de-stress program
that was being held at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston as part of what
was billed as HUB-week, a week of medical, therapeutic, technological and
social events and programs started by a number of well-known institutions in
the Boston area like MGH, Harvard, MIT and others. Sam admitted to being
clueless about what a de-stress program would be about and had never heard of a
Doctor Benson who a million years before had written a best-selling book about
the knot the West had put itself in trying to get ahead and offered mediation
as a way out of the impasse. Sam was skeptical but agreed to go.
At the event which lasted about two hours various forms of
meditative practice were offered including music and laughter yoga. Sam in his mind
passed on those efforts. The one segment that drew his attention, the first
segment headed by this Doctor Benson had been centered on a simple technique to
reduce stress, to relax in fact was called the relax response. Best of all the
Doctor had invited each member of the audience to sample his wares. Pick a word
or short phrase to focus on, close your eyes, put your hands on your lap and
consecrate, really try to concentrate, on that picked term for five minutes
(the optimum is closer to ten plus minutes in an actual situation).
Sam admitted candidly to Laura that while attempting
fitfully focusing on one thing, in his case the phrase “at peace,” he had suffered
many distractions but that he was very interested in pursuing the practice
since he had actually felt that he was getting somewhere before time was
called. Laura laughed at Sam’s response, so Sam-like expecting to master in
five minutes a technique that she had spent years trying to pursue and had not
been anywhere near totally focused yet. He asked her to help him to get started
and they did until Sam felt he could do the procedure on his own.
We now have to get back to that “other shoe” dropping though.
Although Sam had expressed his good intentions, had felt better after a while
Laura had felt that he needed to go on his journey without her. She too now
felt that she had to seek what she was looking for alone in this wicked world
despite how long they had been together. So Laura called it quits, moved out of
the house that she and Sam had lived in for years. Sam is alone on his journey
now, committed to trying to find some peace inside despite his heartbreak over
the loss of Laura. Every once in a while though in a non-meditative moment he
curses that fire in his head. Yeah, he wished he could have put out that fire
in his head long ago.
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