Author Archives: Peter Sanford Kahrmann

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About Peter Sanford Kahrmann

Writer, disability rights advocate, civil rights advocate.

BUDDHA SAYS SHINE

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Buddha said, “Meditate. Live purely. Be quiet. Do your work with mastery. Like the moon, come out from behind the clouds! Shine.”

When I read this I lit up with a smile, the kind of smile one wears when listening to the welcome voice of an old friend. With a gentle soft clear intimate focus I heard “come out from behind the clouds! Shine.” Be you. Go ahead and be you. Be you, and shine.

Isn’t that what it is all about? Giving our permission to be who we are in the world? Freeing ourselves of the shackles of our histories, or the inaccurate, damaging and dysfunctional messages we’ve been give about ourselves throughout our life journeys. As horrifying and damaging messages of bigotry aimed at blacks, Latinos, gays, lesbians, and too many others have been, the message whites have all too often given themselves is just a damaging. No one can be morally or spiritually right-sized if they cast themselves above or below a fellow human being.

Be you. Be you and shine.

So much can in our way of that. And there so much we allow to get in the way of that: the opinions of others, greed, materialism, money, looks, whatever we’ve come to believe strength, and so forth.

Buddha said, “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.”

And there it is, being present in the moment you are in. I am learned that the moment I’m in is the only place I’m obliged to be. As a close friend of mine recently said to me, “Remember, the moment you’re in is the only place you have to be.”

Be in the moment, be you. And shine.
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STRENGTH & THE ART OF ACCEPTANCE

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Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “The true measure of a man’s strength is not where he stands in times of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in times of challenge and controversy.”



Dr. King has been a hero of mine for as long as I’ve had memory, and I have tried to follow his example to the best of my ability. Have I always succeeded? Not even close. But, I am doing my best.


Life happens to us whether we like it or not. We are naive, foolish, arrogant or a combination of all three to believe any differently. Given that I am presently in a struggle to avoid homelessness, now is the time for me to help others. Perhaps the most effective way I can do that is to talk about some of the (forgive the overused word) strategies I use.


I believe we have a relationship with everything in life. Therefore, like a relationship between two people, these relationships can be healthy or unhealthy. Remember too that healthy does not mean free of pain, fear or anxiety. It means, I believe, that honesty in our hearts must be present.


In order for that kind of honesty to be front and center, we must begin by what I believe is the most important step of all. Acceptance. We must accept the reality we are in, the challenge we face. We must accept our experience of the reality in which we find ourselves. However, acceptance does not mean we are giving in. Let me repeat; acceptance does not mean giving in.



The acceptance equation goes like this; you have to accept it in order to manage it and you have to manage it in order to be free of it, in order to develop a healthy relationship with whatever the challenge or problem might be.


If you don’t practice the art of acceptance and avoid it, whatever is getting in your way of your right to be who you are safely in the world around you is likely to control you and, in Shakespearean parlance, Kick your ass for the rest of your life.


Acceptance takes courage, strength. Not the Hollywood definition of strength, or the bullshit strength myths believed by many in my country and I suspect other countries too. Myths like strength means don’t cry; strength means don’t admit you’re afraid; strength means don’t ask for help; strength means don’t admit you can’t do something by yourself. All not true. After all, if it is act of weakness for you to cry, then why is it so hard to do? If it is an act of weakness to admit you’re afraid, then why is it so hard to do?


More often than not, real strength is not a pleasant experience. But the results of giving yourself permission to believe and discover the wealth of real strength within you will bring remarkable and wonderful change and growth to your life. If you allow yourself to use your real strength to enact the art of acceptance you will get to be you in life, and that is a glorious thing. You deserve the experience. We all do.


The strength needed to practice the art of acceptance means allowing yourself to go through the emotional experience. Go ahead and feel the fear, the sadness, the confusion, the anxiety…like most things in life they run their course. And once they have and you come out the other side you realize that you did it, you made it. You are, in a very real way, free. Free to be who you are.


It doesn’t get much better than that.

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HOMELESSNESS AND THE CHECKERED MUG

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I am standing in my kitchen holding a white coffee mug with a checkered band and it gives me enormous strength. I am facing the possibility of homelessness and I can use all the strength I can get right now. I have been homeless before and know its merciless grip all too well. Now I face that stark reality again. I’ll get to why in a minute. But first, back to the mug with the checkered band.

I bought it one summer morning in 2001 while having breakfast with my mother Leona in California. She was dying of liver cancer and we both knew it.

My mother surrendered me for adoption seven days after I was born on October 2, 1953. We were reunited in Stamford Connecticut on January 8. 1987. By 2001 we had grown close and developed deep understanding that in many ways we mirrored each other. Those who knew us best said we each had uncanny levels of prescience, deep reserves of courage, and enormous compassion for all who have been brutalized in life. We were both deeply sentimental. Which is why, when we were having breakfast that morning, I asked the waitress if I could buy the cup I was using.

The waitress and my mother had been talking about cancer. My mother’s and someone the waitress knew. She said, “I’ll do you one better, wait her.” She went into the kitchen and soon returned with another mug in better condition tucked in a brown paper bag. “Just take it,” she said. Then, nodding towards the man behind the register she added, “That sonuvabitch will charge you an arm and a leg. Take it.”

As some of you know, I am in the process of applying getting back onto the disability rolls. My brain injury along with an ample supply of depression, agoraphobia and PTSD have taken there toll. A man I once worked for has been helping me keep my head above water until my disability kicks. However, without warning he let me know Saturday he can’t help me anymore. With no family to fall back on coupled with being in the midst of filing for disability, the situation is not good.

I spend much of my life helping others so believe me, the act of asking for help buckles my knees. But I must live the things I have taught others for more than two decades now: just because you feel hopeless does not mean there is no hope; just because you feel humiliated does not mean you are humiliated; just because you feel weak does not mean you are weak; and just because you feel it is weak to cry doesn’t mean crying is an act of weakness, else why is it so hard to do?

A friend of mine said, “Peter, you live a simple live. It’s not about extravagance.” She went on to say you are asking for help to keep a roof over your head, food in the refrigerator, your bills paid. She and others have urged me to ask for help and support here on the blog. Lest you think I am sitting quietly by, let me reassure you that is not the case.

I will be going to the Department of Social Service this week for emergency food stamps and support. If I am approved, I will only receive half the money towards my rent. I rent a modest home for $650 per month, have the attending car payment along with utilities and, of course, food, phone, electric and, God help us all, oil heat.

My life is about helping others survive. Now I am in a position to ask others to help me survive. Not an easy thing to do, but there is a reason they say pride goeth before a fall. I can tell you Iwould a lot better if you asked me for help. But I recognize this is a personal crisis. I also recognize I am only trying to keep myself alive and functioning to keep doing what I know I do best; help and advocating for others. I have spent the better half of my life doing that.

A lot of my readers don’t know me personally. But I have done my best to give you a glimpse of my life through the blog. I want to continue to be able to use this tool to write and give others hope. This will be impossible for me to do without the support of others. I am hoping some of you can send a donation to help me. In doing so I will be able to keep my home and pay the bills for food, heat, rent and electricity until the disability kicks in.

The donations can be made out to and sent directly to me at:

Peter Kahrmann
P.O. Box 19
Westerlo, NY 12193

I understand these are hard times for everyone. My basic belief though, is that people in general are good hearted and can be called upon in times of need. I honestly never thought I would be in this position to ask for help from my readers. If you are able to come to my aide I would deeply appreciate your generosity. I hope I will be able to give back to you as well.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Peter
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BOOBS, PENIS, STREET SIGNS & A THANK YOU

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The readership in the Kahrmann Blog has been increasing steadily and I want to thank all of you who visit here often, as well as those of who drop by from time to time. It is a humbling thing to see people give value to what you write. There are now regular readers in several countries in addition to my own: Australia, Canada, England, and Venezuela (countries listed alphabetically).

Recently a friend of mine, who knows I have a penchant for going off on comedic riffs, said why don’t you put that stuff in the blog? Even better, go do some standup. The idea of doing standup is scary – but I just might. If you ponder the fact that much of comedy comes from tragedy, there’s plenty of material in the world these days. Now that doesn’t mean all comedy comes from tragedy. Here are some examples of the latter, questions I’ve been pondering.

1) Why is the penis the only body part that has a name you can’t say out loud without sounding as if you’re whining? It has to be one of the most avoided if not the most avoided words in the English language, save for medical professionals, urologists and such. Moreover, no man in the throws of sex has heard the words; I love your big penis. If he did, it didn’t stay big.

2) What is up with the word boobs for women’s breasts? How do we know they’re stupid? They are the only body part given a name that defines their intelligence. And let me tell you what, given all the attention breasts get in the world, I’d say they are anything but stupid. Instead of boobs, why not say something like, nice pair of geniuses?

3) Lets talk about street signs. When I left New York City in 1987, I left a place where street signs made sense. SLOW meant slow and STOP meant stop. The NYC no parking signs were crystal clear in their meaning, so much so that there were no parking signs in the well-heeled neighborhood of Sutton Place that read, and I quote, DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT PARKING HERE.

In 1987 I leave the city and move to Sullivan County and everything changes. I love Sullivan County. The people are nice and the land is magnificent beyond description. However, whoever designed the street signs there (and it seems in all the upstate counties) smoked better pot than I ever did. The team that design these signs had passed the bong around a few times before getting down to work. How else can you explain the signs? . I would see a sign that said SPEED ZONE AHEAD and so I would do what I was told and hit the gas. I couldn’t figure out why on earth they wanted you to speed through the more populated areas. Later on I would find out SPEED ZONE meant slow down. Yeah? Then say slow down.

And then there was the sign that scared and confused the hell out of me the first few times I saw it until I finally asked someone what the hell it meant. I’m driving on a road that has signs that say 35 MPH. So, I do 35 MPH because I’m a newcomer to the area and I want to establish straight away that I respect the area. And then the nightmare sign. It says, END 35 MPH……….. And then…nothing…..no follow up sign, nothing. I didn’t know whether to come to a complete stop until someone came along who would tell me what to do next. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do. A week or two later I was told that when you see that sign it means you can then do 55 MPH. I thought, so why not have a sign that says that.

I can tell you one thing, the people who designed those signs, now they were boobs.

Thanks for reading the blog.

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BRAIN INJURY INCLUDES ALL OF US

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– The word is getting out that you are planning a book on your experiences working in the field of brain injury.

– Almost. A book about living with a brain injury and working in the field.

– Where does it stand right now?

– Planning it in my head. It’s a narrative of the experience. What I’ve encountered, seen, experienced. People I’ve met, worked with, the survivors, their families, and the healthcare system itself is a character.

– Is it a tell all book?

– You mean like a gotcha piece?

– Yes.

– No. It’s a tell the truth book. When it comes to programs that provide services to those of us with brain injuries living in the community, it’s essentially a new field. So there’s a real mix on the results front as everyone is on a learning curve.

– So mistakes get made?

– Sure, but that’s part of life and not necessarily a bad thing at all. As long as the motivations behind people’s actions and choices are in a healthy place, mistakes are growing pains. When the motivations turn poisonous, then the process becomes diseased, and that’s pretty tragic.

– You seen that?

– Sure. It’s like any field, really. Some folks in it are amazing, some aren’t. Some are honest and honorable, some aren’t. What the field is missing, at least in my state, is real thorough oversight. Too often, those that are in the field for the wrong reasons are not held accountable. There are people in the Department of Health in my state for example that I like and admire and then there are others I don’t. I know one woman, the wife of a survivor of brain injury, who has filed complaints on her husband’s behalf and the DOH looks into it, or says it looks into it, and then tells her the complaint was unfounded. The curious thing is the DOH never talks to her or her husband during the investigation. That’s kind of like a mechanic signing off on the health of your car without ever looking at the engine.

– The book will focus on what you’ve encountered in the field as well?

– Absolutely. There have been times I’ve had to educate people I work with about the impact my brain injury has on my life. More often than not, they were great, got it, and translated the knowledge into their work. Other times, they’d nod, say yeah, okay, and then march on as if I’d said nothing.

– Sounds frustrating.

– In a way. But I think more than anything I was grateful to be alive to be in the position to try to help people understand, not just my injury, but the injuries others live with as well.

– What’s your next step in the book process?

– I’m working out a questionnaire for bunch of people, about demographics. One of the amazing things about those in the field of brain injury is their diverse backgrounds. People from different fields. Different educational backgrounds, different economic backgrounds, and more. While it’s not the main thrust of the book, its material I want to lace into the book. I mean look at me, I’m a high school drop out with a GED and a few college credits, and a former New York City cabby. So you have a real rainbow of folks.

– So the questionnaire is –

– Just to get peoples demographics collected so when I interview them I can focus on their experience and not waste their time with things like what types of jobs have you worked at or where did you go to school or where’d you grow up. When I meet with people to interview them I want to focus on the content of their experience in the field.

– And survivors?

– I will absolutely be talking with survivors and their families, absolutely, I’ll be sending the same questionnaires to them for the same reason; survivors, like those in the field come from every background you can imagine. Same with the advocates.

– It’s as if brain injury in a way includes all of us.

– Now you’re getting it.
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