A lesson in vulnerability.

Dear friends and family; my loved ones; all my relations,

If you haven't heard from me in a while, I'm sorry. Sorry not in the sense of an apology, but in the sense that I wish to convey to you the sorrow I feel, not having a more meaningful connection with you. Some of you I've known for a long time, others not so long. I've met you all in various ways; through schooling, work, travel, festivals, the internet, just to name a few. If you're reading this letter, then please know that I really value the connections that we've made and hope to deepen my connection with you and as such, work towards my dream of a more connected world.

In order for me to realise this dream, I know that I will need to be more vulnerable and share more of myself than I've ever felt comfortable with. I know I will need to cultivate a strength, by yielding to my feelings so that I can feel into them more and learn from what they are trying to show me. I know that I need to identify times when I'm not so strong and need to reach out for help and then actually ask for help. I know I need to stop being so hard on myself and let go of blaming myself for the feelings of others. This letter is a step towards putting this knowledge into practice.

I came to these realisations through the many struggles that we encounter in this incredible experience we call life. Some of you have been there with me through them at different times and for that I can't express enough gratitude for your being. Others may have not and that's all good as we all have our own paths to walk. Either way, I thank you for taking an interest in my musings; for wanting to hear from me; for allowing me to share myself with you; for helping me in my endeavour towards my dream. For those of you who don't already know what's happened to me lately, you might want to take a seat before you read on.

Life delivers us many challenges and some of these junctures are rare. In this case, 3.1 in a million rare. Survival rate is about 40% if treated in the first 6 hours, 25% in the first 24hours, 10% beyond this. 67% fatality rate said the surgeon. Boerhaav's syndrome it's called. Basically what happens is, as you vomit, your food tube fails to open up all the way. This causes a sharp increase in pressure in the esophagus and the pressure finding a way to release, ruptures the oesophagus at a weak point. Because our human evolution has us breathing and eating through the same mouth hole, with a ruptured esophagus, everytime you gasp in pain, air is free to go into places it shouldn't and the contents of the stomach spill out it's super acidic contents into the chest cavity. Long story short, I was operated on and spent 5 days in ICU until the surgeon was sure I would survive. I was then transferred to the ward and spent more than 3 weeks in hospital. I'll perhaps recount my hospital experience in a blog post.

So this big life event left me in a very vulnerable state, physically and emotionally. Prior to this I'd only just got on top of my mental-emotional wellbeing, which spiralled downwards after the loss of my sister. This time around, I've been dealing with a lot of overwhelm emotionally, especially since leaving the hospital. Some of these emotions, although familiar seem to reduce me to tears. My soul brother brought me some music to listen to whilst laying in bed recovering. Michael Jackson - Earth song; Arrested Development - Mr Wendal; the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Emotions felt from another time which I'd never really understood, never been able to truly feel. Not until now. I lack the words to describe exactly what I feel, but it's like a combination of hope and hopelessness wrapped up in a ball of anger and understanding, floating atop a cloud of sadness raining gratitude.

I find myself here at home on my path to recovery. Further to the 3 weeks of self reflection spent in hospital, the process continues, only this time without the support of the doctors, nurses, orderlies; the numerous hands, that held me so warmly during my stay. I'm still dealing with these overwhelming emotions, coupled with all the dross that finds me in my "normal life." I know I've been resilient most my life but sometimes it just wears thin. I'm trying to overcome some long held insecurities and cultural artefacts like having to be independant, being "strong" as a cultural male and being selfless putting everyone else before me. As well as the psycho-emotional struggles theres also the physical struggles on the road to recovery. Limited mobility, frequent exhaustion, reduced lung capacity and a constant pain, increasing with movement, yawning, coughing, laughing, sneezing, etc, just makes everything else just that little bit more difficult.

So here I am, writing to you, in an attempt to adorn new garb, wearing my heart on my sleeve. Not just the amorous part but the whole thing. I share with you, my relations, words manifest from the depths of my heart and soul, filtered through my lens of healing through sharing vulnerability and deepening connections. I pray that these seed that I am sowing blossom and provide me the sustenance I need to grow stronger in my self care and vulnerability; my capacity and capability to reach out for help. In the past, I've found it challenging to phone a friend, and now in my weakened state, it seems even more difficult. I used to think, that it was all in my head and that I could reason, and will my way through the struggles. Now I'm finding that the struggles are in my body, stored as emotions, and these emotions need to be attended to rather than brush passed or hurdled over. 

This letter I hope serves me well as a first step in turning towards these feelings and asking for help along the way. If you find yourself reading this letter, truly I thank you. Knowing that you care about me enough to want to know about my journey in life, touches me in a way I can't describe. For those of you who have supported me thus far, I can't thank you enough. Your gifts, your words, your acts of service and your presence fill me with gratitude and provide me an opportunity to challenge my limiting beliefs around worthiness. For those of you who I have enough courage to reach out to and those with enough courage to listen, I thank you for lending an ear to hear my pains, and a shoulder for me to lean on. 

I've still more to say, but am still trying to find the words to express myself. I think I'll leave off here before it starts reading like a philosophical essay. I thank you for taking the time to hear me and being here on this journey of mine. I thank big G and mama G, the nurses, the doctors, my sisters, my brothers, my Friends, my family; all my relations. 

With my open heart I wish blessings on you all,

J