Nov 11, 2013 – Honoring Our Veterans

Dear fellow uplifters,

A special Veteran’s Day hello to you.

It just so happened that last evening, on our broadcast of BEING DELIBERATELY radio, I had the great and good fortune to have Charisse Kaufman, President of LIVES OF PROMISE, a non-profit dedicated to helping veterans and their families, as my guest.

Did I plan the booking this way to coincide with the holiday?

The answer is no — consciously, in any case — yet I’m so grateful about this Divine timing.

I’ll also add that because I didn’t “work” this scheduling, the show unfolded in a really beautiful and authentic way – on a complex and complicated subject that needs SO much gentle shining of lanterns — spotlights really, big honkin’ movie klieg lights if we’re to be really honest.

Again though, let’s stick with the softer lantern image until we (myself included) can get more and more comfortable with this in terms of deeper, shame-free understanding, greater awareness and open-hearted dialogue – ALL of which leads to healing, growth, expansion. You know, the good stuff we’ve all come here for.

“This”, the “subject” is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – PTSD as it’s been packed into for instant and sadly, easily forgettable shorthand over a century of American war damage assessment.

Do you FEEL anything when you read & hear those initials – PTSD? Like me, probably not.

What it really means (the feeling) has been anesthetized away, sanitized out so that the “elephant in the living room” appears to be just a lamp. However, the truth is, you can’t disguise an elephant, and until said elephant is fairly, realistically, compassionately regarded and dealt with, it’s gonna continue to make a shambles out of the room – through no fault of its own.

George Carlin, one of the great writers and illuminators of our time did a stand-up routine about the “elephant” over twenty years ago. In this routine — as always in his word play to bring the point home — he was both poetic and blistering.

He said and I’m paraphrasing — “In WWI we called it Shell Shock. In WWII it was called Battle Fatigue. In the Korean War, we were labeling it as Operational Exhaustion. Then by Vietnam, we took all feeling out of what we could possibly imagine these soliders going through (impossible really), added a few more clinical words to really confuse things, and came up with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

Now – and this is me repeating – it’s just initials – PTSD.Like LOL, IMHO, BTW it’s just been slipped right in there with our abbreviated “gotta go”, can’t spend too much time on this lifestyles. Mia culpa and sure, succinct, to-the-point-communication – not a bad thing. We live in fast times.But somehow, with regard to our military – those who have given their service, their lives for our freedom and safety – it seems to me that it’s a moral imperative (like important for our soul stuff) to deliberately choose a non-rushed gear.Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is an invisible illness – mentally, emotionally & physically — that deeply impacts the lives of the men & women who have served in combat for the lives of others. This impact includes the families – those who love and are closest to these soliders, but who need as much (if not more) support, understanding, compassion and awareness in order to cope and recover. Not an overnight process – a very long term journey. Longer than any war we’ve waged.In my gratitude to veterans worldwide, here is the re-post of last night’s compelling broadcast on “Being Deliberately” radio & our discussion of PTSD. Even writing this is my choosing to slow down and widen my awareness to a situation that can improve — one person to one person.Please have a listen to the mission, message and voice of Charisse Kaufman and Lives Of Promise, and if it moves you, share it with another.


http://www.beingdeliberately.com/podcasts-2/

And because I need to do him justice – here’s the George Carlin routine I was telling you about, circa ‘80’s. Enjoy!


http://www.beingdeliberately.com/feel-good-videos/

My love and deepest thanks,
Beth