Author Archives: Peter Sanford Kahrmann

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About Peter Sanford Kahrmann

Writer, disability rights advocate, civil rights advocate.

THERE IS SOMETHING MISSING

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I am at Barnes and Noble on Wolf Road in Albany, it is just a minute or two past noon. Took myself out for coffee and two oatmeal raisin cookies; I am splurging.


It dawns on me that everything I am looking at was created by human beings. Born from the thoughts and creativity of human beings; mind you, in some cases, born from lack of creativity.



With some exceptions most of the books are essentially sprung from one mind with the attending influences of editors, agents and publishers. But it’s more than the books. The rugs, shelves, tables, chairs, lighting, wall colors, and more are all designed by people and ,more often than not, all of these things are driven in some significant measure by the desire to get something from people. Their money.



A woman just passed me wearing a rather nondescript winter jacket with the name of designer, Kenneth Cole, printed in large letters on the back, up where her shoulder blades are. This would make sense to me if it was a jersey for a sports team but, call me crazy, I’m having a hard time believing her name is Kenneth Cole.


I don’t want somebody’s name written on my clothing. But in this case, the name Kenneth Cole is their to assist in the effort to relieve people of their money.


Yet, who am I to judge?


There are a lot of people in this world making a lot of things and they bring a range of motivations to their work. There are authors, fashion designers and more who give their heart and soul to their work and are wonderfully creative. I was involved with a woman for awhile who made jewelry. But, using the word made understates the quality and result of her efforts. She created jewelry.


I do have one observation here that troubles me. Everything I see in front of me is human-driven and there is something missing. Something so essential to the human experience none of us would be alive without it. Nature. The unfettered, unabbreviated by people, reality of nature.


Nature’s truth. There is something essential, something spiritually, emotionally and physically nutritious for all of us in nature. Something I believe we ought to know, touch, see, smell, breathe, taste. That something I believe is, in a word, life. The light inside the bulb, the thought inside the mind, and the spirit that lives and breathes in every heart.


I do not pretend to know what happens to us after this life, if anything. But I strongly believe that if there is something after this life, we will be less suited for it if we stay isolated from nature.


Last thought, for now. Nature heals. And from my heart to your heart, we deserve to heal, you deserve to heal.

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DEAR MARTIN – WORDS FOR A KING

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Dear Martin,


I have looked up to you since I was a little boy. I was only 14 years old when you were killed. I cried until my eyes were swollen and when we went to church that Sunday our minister, who had marched with you many times, told all of us that the American family had a role in your death. That this country, my country, had been crippled by the poison of racism, of hatred. He called on each of us to carry your message and work hard for your dream. To work hard for the day when children and adults were no longer judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.


We are closer, Martin. We are closer. This Tuesday, the day after the day honoring you, the first African American will become the president of the United States. My eyes flood with tears of joy just writing that sentence.


The struggle for equal rights goes on on many fronts. You have been my role model in my efforts, although I have yet to reach your place of faith and spirituality. But I have held you close to my heart all these years, and having you there helps me. The price I have paid for my part in civil rights pales by comparison to the price paid by so many good and decent people. some paying with their lives, a price I am humbly willing to pay as well to assure justice and equality for all people.





Not long ago I was pushed out of a health care company because they needed to evict a voice they could not silence, a voice that insisted that the people receiving services there be treated with respect and given choice. In the scheme of things, my price was a small one.


You once said, “Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.” So true.


I don’t know what remains for me in life. But I do know that I am blessed to be on the board of an association that works with people who have survived brain injuries and I was recently appointed to a council that works heart-and-soul hard to make sure people with disabilities are afforded the chance to be as independent in the world we all live in, which includes equal rights.


God bless you, Martin, wherever you are. If you see my father and my family, give them my love and let them know I am doing my best. Perhaps they already know. I’m never quite sure about that one.


I’m going to include a link below for my readers to go to so they can see your “I Have a Dream Speech.”


Thank you, Martin, for all you’ve done for all. The struggle continues for many, and I will be in it until my last breath.


With love and respect,


Peter



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEMXaTktUfA&feature=related

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I REMEMBER DYING

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I remember dying. There is nothing like it. No words can say it, surround it, share it, divulge it.

A US Airways jet crash landed in the Hudson River today. There were more than 150 people on board Flight 1549 from New York to Charlotte North Carolina. At this writing all reports indicate everyone made it off the plane alive. The FAA says preliminary reports indicate the plane struck a bird.

But it was not the cause of the crash I was thinking about when I watched the scene unfold on television. I was thinking about the horrifying moments the people on the aircraft endured and are still enduring. When the pilot told them to brace for impact, every single human being in the plane began going through an experience that told them they were in their last moments. They were dying. Their it-can’t-happen-to-me syndromes forever destroyed.

Moments like the passengers and crew endured and lived through, like the moments I lived through in 1984 after a teenager put a gun to my head and shot me, are moments that rip apart and blister away any emotional defense system that may have been meeting the challenges of daily life. There are no daily life challenges that prepare you for the merciless onslaught of unexpected imminent death. You go through them naked. Fully exposed. Your heart and soul bared. Your entire being covered in terror’s icy lace.

Then, if you live, people will tell you that you are lucky. And you wonder what they are talking about because you don’t feel lucky. You don’t feel lucky because you aren’t lucky. You are not lucky to be in a plane the has to crash land. You are not lucky to get shot in the head at point blank range by a drugged up teenager. What you are is blessed. You are blessed to be alive. I am blessed and so are all those who lived through that trauma today. So are those who live through all life threatening traumas.

But don’t call us lucky. We are dealing with what did happen, not with what could have happened.
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FEAR OF INTIMACY

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Fear of intimacy is an epidemic in my culture. This fear, this unkind barrier to people fully loving each other, robs so many people of the relationships they deserve – and want.

To my mind, there are three primary forms of intimacy: physical, emotional, and spiritual.

There are numerous essays and articles on the net talking about communal relationships as opposed to exchange relationships, or, as one article I ran across calls the latter, strategic exchange relationships. This latter form of relationship is highly problematic if your goal is to be in a loving intimate relationship with someone and not simply use someone for sexual or material gain.

While it seems to me the strategic exchange relationship is by far the most common relationship we see, I believe most people honestly and honorably want the communal relationship.

As I understand it, the strategic exchange relationship is a relationship where one person is seeking to get something or give something to the other in part by convincing them that the relationship is based on true intimacy. To my mind, this pattern of manipulative behavior can be driven by the subconscious as well as the conscious. According to more than one source, strategic exchange relationships are rather brittle and likely to break apart and come to an end when disagreements and differences arise.

Communal relationships, the truly emotionally, physically, and spiritually intimate relationships, are the durable ones. These relationships are far more likely to weather the storms. Their foundations are not so apt to be fractured and damaged by disagreements, differing views, and the traumas life dishes out to us all. Why? Because there is trust. There is a belief that each is their with the other person’s best interest at heart. There is a belief that neither would knowingly do nor say anything to wound or damage the other. This type of bond does not exist in the exchange relationships.

But why the exchange relationships in the first place? Why the fear of intimacy? Why the fear to trust? These fears arrive in our lives for real reasons: past wounds, betrayals, abuse of all kinds endured as children, or adults for that matter.

In other words, it’s our histories. Components of our histories provide the biggest obstacles to our ever realizing the kind of communal relationships so many deeply and sincerely long for.

So, here’s a thought to take with you. Who deserves to be in charge of your ability to be in the kind of communal relationship your heart desires? You or your history? I say, you.

The thing is, when the fear arrives, when your history raises its hideous head in an attempt to derail you, talk to the person you are with about your fears. If they listen, you are in good stead. One other thing, let them talk, and when they do, listen to them. Listen to each other; don’t judge each other.

And for god sakes, don’t forget to hold each other.

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NORMAL, THE WAY IT’S ‘SPOSED TO BE

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Normal is you giving yourself permission to be you.


In a recent workshop with trauma survivors and today in a conversation with an extraordinary woman, the subject of normal came up. Normal is a dangerous notion because it is drenched in the poison judgment. Judgment is poison, at in my view it is. Were it not for my allegiance to free speech, I would urge that the word normal be banned. Normal as an expectation should be banned. What gets presented as normal by society is driven by commercial interests which are driven by the desire to make money which is, more often than not, driven by greed. And nothing driven by greed can be normal, meaning nothing driven by greed can be physically, emotionally and spiritually healthy.

The line from Bruce Springsteen’s song Badlands says a lot about the greed-driven “normal”:

“Poor man wanna be rich,
rich man wanna be king
And a king ain’t satisfied
till he rules everything”

I know a business owner or two that went from good to bad ‘cause they wanted and want to rule everything. Wanting to rule everything? Now that ain’t fucking normal.

Normal is being who you are. Nothing more, nothing less. Being who you are, learning to be who you are, allowing yourself to be who you are, and not letting your history stop you.

Think about it, if there is anything in the world you deserve to be, it’s you. You are a wonderful discovery. If you don’t think so, take some decision making power away from the unhealthy messages inflicted on you by your history. When you do that, you will get to meet your true self. Guaranteed you’ll wind up best friends.

That’s the way it’s ‘sposed to be.
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