Lone Survivor. Iraq War Stories. Finding a Meaning.

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Subconjunctival Hemorrhage. Or blood burst of the Mind.

Stress, here we go again, I woke up in the morning, and after my gums infections, I got this red eye, or burst blood, on my left eye.

Doctors say it’s nothing at all, blood pressure is fine and I am having all my vitamins.

Ok, I left the blog behind for a week, cos I am muting service. Since it’s not terrific, never mind, I had the chance to come back to the previous service. And it’s still temporary. My HR assistant is still not understanding which are my priorities, furthermore if I reject any missions I am fired.

Occupational medicine is supporting me, so I took this rendez vous with my actual doctor, and he did what it was needed to do. We’ll see how things evolve, in the mean time, I am preparing my italian CV and see what I can do to create this nice, peaceful and meaningful picture called …future.

Btw, broken blood finally shows what’s going on INSIDE of My Heart. It’s nothing at all, doctor says, it will reabsorb and heal it self. Alright. Heart can heal it self, too. With a bunch of Self Love, of course.

Yeah, eyes are the window of our Soul. Did you know?

xx

Park Slope Eye

You were having a great day until someone looked at you and said “Oh my god! Your eye is bleeding!” You head to the mirror and you are taken back at what you see. Your eye wasn’t bothering you but you are stunned to see the normally white part of you eye is bright red. You can’t recall anything happening to your eye, it doesn’t hurt and your vision seems to be fine as well. The good news is that this is typically something that looks way worse than what it really is. This frightfully appearing condition is most likely to be diagnosed as a subconjunctival hemorrhage, a broken blood vessel.

When a tiny blood vessel breaks just underneath the clear cellophane like layer of your eye (conjunctiva), the trapped blood spreads out quickly, leaving you with a grossly red eye. This is the equivalent of a broken blood vessel…

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The Dark Night of the Soul. Feat. Trevor Ilesley.

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While recovering from PTSD, I went through different coaching videos on YouTube. This is one of those who really impressed me. Well, I love his dark soul style.

The dark night of the soul, for the short story, comes from a poem of 1600 spanish pilgrim written by Saint John of the Cross. It refers to a mystical and spiritual journey of psychological growth and soul awakening.

Something is wrong with you, or you feel like that, like you are wrong and anybody else is right. And you have to fit the box but you can’t, and you won’t, by your choice, because you start to take responsability of who you really are. You give birth to your true Self.

So, usually the dark night of the soul is when you feel depressed or anything in your life is not going the way you would like. What’s the meaning of your life, and so on.

If you, too,  become mad about the Dark Night of the Soul, I might recommend to listen to Loreena McKennith . Beautiful, and inspiring.

Here is Trevor. Bless you.

The Pursuit of Happiness vs Search of Meaning.

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When I started to look for my purpose, I was recovering from occupational burn out, and PTSD ( except I didn’t understand it ). My doctor played a mentor’s role in the story and he pushed me to my life questioning. Before that, I was completely unaware and in so-called hamster wheel.

In february 2016, I lost a camerade, at work, for a stroke, at 7 am. He was, apparently, quarelling with his manager when he fell down on the ground.  They brought him to the hospital by a first aid helicopter, but it was too late. A stroke requires fast help, and perhaps, unhappily, it was not the case. When I arrived in the morning, I passed by the direction office, and heard the executive director preparing his speech for the team talk.

He was calling, on the phone, for all the team staff and occupational doctor, in order to announce that R. my brit camerade, aged 43, was lying in a hospital bed, waiting to cut his hoxygene off. They were just waiting for his parents to come from the UK. He left 4 children and a wife. Sure, you first wonder how it would be like if you were at his place. The fact is that in the early morning, at wake up, 6h45 am, I did my routine mindfulness meditation, and I remember addressing my Self to “above” to submit my service into something bigger than my ego, and my own will. If you see what I mean. We often ask and beg for what we want for us and we never put our selves in a humbling position.

Don’t ask what your Life can do for you, but what you can do for your Life“.

As soon as I stepped into the corridor of the management office, I had the gut feeling that I got my answer or, at least, for just that day. No more excuses, I needed to talk.

So, for the very first time, fearless, I crossed over the door of my executive director, in order to speak out loud and we finally had a powerful, understanding, conversation.  He was in dispair, it was his third loss in a few months, and right after the november attacks, which had such an impact on our workplace, and our spirit. To minimize, my manager tried to tell me that all of us have personal situations which put our health in danger. Work issues wasn’t concerned. Invisible wounds and stress disorders cannot be taken seriously – at a work environement – as a proof of stroke, heart attack or any other health disease, because if you survive, there is a clause of confidentiality. They keep it as a secret. You’d better not talk about. That’s how people get depressive and suicidal, what the hell.

“They say that your purpose is what you struggle with.”

So, the promise I have made to my Self, in that dark upsetting morning, was precisely to take responsability for Me and My own Life. To be honest, from 2015 to 2017, I’ve been writing a memoir in my mother language, that I have tried to get published, but no one showed up unless ahaha! some editing publisher from Rome who complimented me and, as offer, asked me 1500 euros to get my work published. Never mind. What’s the main purpose of all this writing, I wondered, if not healing and sharing? 

***

 

In her book “The Power of Meaning,” Emily Esfahani Smith rounds up the latest research — and the stories of fascinating people she interviewed — to argue that the search for meaning is far more fulfilling than the pursuit of personal happiness.

 

Our culture is obsessed with happiness. Even though we devote vast amounts of time and resources trying to be happier, many of us feel aimless and alienated nonetheless. With depression and loneliness trending upward for decades and the suicide rate rising around the world — recently reaching a 30-year high in the United States — it’s clear that something is wrong. In recent years, social scientists have been trying to understand what exactly the problem is. What they’ve found is striking. What predicts the rising tide of despair sweeping across society is not a lack of happiness. It’s a lack of something else — a lack of having meaning in life. In fact, chasing and valuing happiness, the way our culture encourages us to do, can actually make people unhappy.

This set Smith on a journey to understand what constitutes a meaningful life. After extensive research and reporting, she came to see that there are four pillars of a meaningful life — and she lays them out in her TED Talk. Ultimately, she discovered that the search for meaning is far more fulfilling than the pursuit of personal happiness — and we all have the power to build more meaning in our lives.

With courtesy of Ted Talk’s Ideas worth spreading

What your Ithaca means?

As you set out for Ithaca
hope that your journey is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – do not be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare sensation
touches your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope that your journey is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbors seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and learn again from those who know.

Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so that you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.

Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithacas mean.