Myths, Fallacies and Most Therapists Without a Clue

Post No. 75

As my rather eventful life’s journey draws to a close two things keep bugging me and perhaps many of you too. The first: Have I contributed to this world I leave? Have I left a legacy? You might say, rightly, I’ve been brooding on this subject.
I will be quoting from letters received from a dear friend and a nationally acclaimed artist, who painted the cover of my memoir, Never Climbed His Mountain – Second Edition. Patrick X. Nidorf, or “Pax”, is a former catholic priest in the Augustinian monastic order, a psychotherapist and founder of Dignity ─ a catholic gender support group with over fifty chapters. His comments seem to resonate for me.  When I reached out to him for his thoughts on this subject his first comment was right on ꟷ “you are having the blues, the dark night of the soul”. So indeed I do.
My musings may seem disjointed but putting them all together you might see where I’m headed: There are over seven billion people on this planet with two eyes, two ears, one mouth and one nose and yet we all appear to look different from each other! Consider that each of our brains have more than a billion neurotransmitters wired in combinations unique to each of us. So I go on the assumption that I was put on this earth – brain wired in its exclusive way – for a special purpose. Will I have served that purpose before I leave? Will I have left a mark that will remain through the ages?
More than two hundred years ago two men before they were fifty, Napoleon and Beethoven, did that. So too Gandhi and Mother Teresa achieved that goal. John D. Rockefeller and Tom Edison and, very recently, Bill Gates accomplished that goal also at an early age ꟷ all memorialized for the ages.  But, like the billions born and died in our brief past history, and the billions coming tomorrow, as said in the chess community: “at the end of the game the King and the Pawn are put away in the same box”. We all return to dust into the planet called earth, this planet, one of a few planets bound by gravitation to whirl in black matter, we call space, around our sun, our solar system ─ one of billions comprising our galaxy and one of billions of galaxies in this cosmos  ꟷ rapidly fleeing, expanding away from each other. Making me feel even more insignificant was a recent findings in 2016 AD of the discovery of nine galaxies, gravitationally united, some eleven plus billion light years away ─ or long before the Big Bang created our universe! Point: Even those who, without question, stand out within these past few hundred years, they are still hardly a blip in our planet’s journey. So don’t I have audacity to even consider what indelible mark I could possibly make on mankind?
Still searching to find some meaning to my existence, to my relation to the grand scheme of things, I’ve been fascinated by bugs. Yes, bugs the size of a pin’s point. When I hover over one ꟷ size-wise I’m a Mt. Everest relating to a seed in a valley at its base ─ that bug in some unimaginable way senses the danger and tries to flee! What brain? What sensory apparatus is contained in that minuscule living thing? I’m at a loss of understanding and yet I see an analogy likening that microscopic speck ꟷ that bug ─ and me – that huge object hovering above. Let’s consider that, instead, that I’m that speck and the towering being above is really that grand designer of all, that omniscient being, who most of us call God for want of a better description.
I must turn to Pax to put my ramblings into perspective: “It’s certainly nice to believe that the world is a better place because we have been through it, and surely the good we do can’t possibly be measured; the ripples touch how many people (?). So we do our best and let God do the rest.” Then his comments reiterate my thoughts: “In the total scope of things, we are such little specks and our lives infinitesimally short, that it is beyond calculation. The one great gift we have is HOPE. At our creaky old age, we can rest in the belief that we weren’t and don’t have to have been perfect; that our basic goodness goes a long way to help off balance the evil in the world”. That passage hits a chord for I often wonder whether any of those literally – yes, literally ꟷ thousands of people to whom I was their boss, employer, co-worker or just friend and affected their lives in a meaningful and helpful way, remembered me? To Pax and to my readers – I hope so too. That’s all I have left ─ memories and that hope. As far as a legacy? All gone in a nanosecond, no matter.
The second issue of concern ꟷ how much did the predisposition for cross dressing affect my total life experience ─ will, due to the length of Blog Post 75, have to wait for the following blog.