The Truth of Things

Greetings all,

I should tell you a truth I've kept to myself about this blog.  Six and a half years ago is when I really doubled down and made a commitment to write.  One I kept up until this year and the passing of my last grandparent.  I started the weekly writing assignment due to another loss in my life.

I've always been very indirect about writing about personal conflicts because I've never felt comfortable attacking or calling someone out on the internet, or making someone feel uncomfortable by having their business out there for all to see.  So the identifying facts have often been obscured or omitted to protect the guilty and innocent alike.  I've never opened up about why I started these part rants part confessionals, but that ends today.

Once upon a time.....

I had a friend, a good friend, and we did everything together.  We were in business together, took trips together, and enriched each others' spiritual practices.  It had been the longest running close friendship I'd had in my life.  All told we were friends for almost nine years, and the first five or so of those years were fantastic.  It really was a 50/50 deal.  Somewhere along the way that shifted, it was gradual, so gradual I didn't realize it for a few years.  It became more like 70/30.  Still I didn't want to rock the boat because I had steady company for probably the first time ever, and if it wasn't as fulfilling for me and I had to put in more effort I was comfortable.  By this time I had along with a group of folks been supporting this friend.  We made sure they not only had food on their table but that their animals were also fed.

All this changed in 2012.  That was a big year for me all around.  I started an advanced shamanic initiation program that would go for 2 years, I rented my office, and my friend had a severe stroke. The 70/30  became 100/0.  I operated out of crisis mode for a good 8 months. Along with a team of friends, the greater shamanic and metaphysical community, and my friends's reluctant family we were able to pull them back from the brink.  I thought at the time we had saved their life, but I was wrong.

It wasn't long after one of their siblings took control of their care, that I noticed a steep decline.  There were things that were done that didn't make sense.  I thought my friend had started lying to me, it wasn't until later I realized they'd been lying for a while.  This stung. I am not the most forthcoming person, but as I look back I never once lied to them.  I did my best to keep it all together, but I kept hearing someone else's words come out of my friend.  I felt like I was talking to a puppet and their family had their hands up their ass.  When the dam broke it broke hard. A line was crossed that I couldn't ignore and I laid down some far overdue boundaries.  I was informed that my services were no longer required.  My former friend sent me a very hateful email and had one of their family members who was a lawyer draw up a friendship termination document.  Yes, they legally informed me that my friendship was done.

To say I was heartbroken is an understatement.  I felt like my world had imploded.  Beyond that, we ran in the same circles.  People were always asking after them.  I had to make a choice to withdraw completely from my community or suffer their deceit in silence.  I chose the latter.  As hurt as I was I didn't want everyone to know, because they still needed help.  Luckily the strain of seeing me at events when they expected me to run with my tail between my legs proved too much for them.  They withdrew from the community.  That was that, or so I thought.

I learned this week, that my former friend and her family had apparently been saying some things about me.  We'll just say they didn't paint me in a particularly good light.  It has been almost 7 years since my friendship was legally terminated, but not content with the pain of losing someone, they have been busy trying to tarnish my reputation.  Finding this out really opened up those old wounds.  At first I wondered if it would have been better for me to not know, but I realize now that if I hadn't found out those wounds would still be there under the surface.  The poison in them was only partially dormant.  I haven't really let people get very close to me the past few years.  The level of betrayal I felt was still affecting all of my relationships.

What I'd said in my head to comfort myself over the years was this, "Well at least we saved their life. We're not friends anymore but we did that." The thing is that we really didn't.  My friend died.  The person who is taking breaths now is not them. I don't know them.  I don't recognize the hatefulness in them.  My friend is dead, and perhaps knowing that I can let go of my anger, truly grieve, and finally heal.

Why am I telling you this?  Well I had to get it out of me.  The oblique references were no longer effective for me.  This was poison in my heart and by telling it I hope to expunge it from me and transmute it.  All of us have suffered betrayals of one form or another. Some of you reading this have probably suffered on a magnitude far greater than I can imagine. Some of you beautiful beings have even forgiven those folks who hurt you so deeply.  I have a teacher who often says, "Where is the gift?" In some ways this blog was the gift.  The hurt in me forced me to develop my voice, and that led to me writing a book, giving lectures, speaking on podcasts, and creating a meditation album.  So I guess I should thank them for what they did, but I'm not going to.

Sometimes even when people survive they die.  We should mourn them, for even if their feelings and words were a lie ours were not.  So here I am being vulnerable and honest.  I have named no names, the people in my circle know who is who and what is what.   I hope that in this telling I find peace and that in the reading you find understanding.

Peace and Blessings,
Thomas Mooneagle