Chapter Untitled

My friend had died. I was entering high school. I was confused about my identity. My sister had gotten married. We were losing our house. I contemplated my life every other day. The only thing keeping me going was the fact that I was in track. Even after long practice hours after school, I'd still run afterwards. Subconsciously, it felt like I could run away from everything. I could just run and run and run and didn't have to deal with anything or anyone. I could run and nothing could keep my from going. It felt like I was running with the wind, running with the trees and leaves. I would run 6, 7, 8 miles after school and although I nearly vomited at times, the big breaths I took from being out of breath just felt like really, really big sighs. Big sighs from life and all that was happening. All the while, I was literally on the edge of spiritual meltdowns. Who was I to tell about my fucked up dreams? My fear of the dark? My fear of ghosts and demons at night?

I remember one my uncles telling me, "You look so pale and lifeless." At the time, I tried to hide everything. I involved myself in as much as I could so I didn't have to think about personal issues I was drowning in. We performed shaman rituals in hopes that it would "fix" me. My grandma tied strings to my wrist in hopes that it would bring life back to me. It started when my friend died. I often had dreams of going everywhere with my friend that had passed. We went to the mountains, we went hiking, fishing, but mostly we went to the lake and light house. He often showed me all his cool things, showed me around the forest, we went running together... I didn't even bother to think of why he knew these mountains and forests like the back of his hand. I didn't bother to think why he was always alone. I didn't bother to think why he never showed me his actual house or his family. I even had a dream once where he said we could fly over the lake. I told him I couldn't and he said I'm destined to fly! So, he grabbed my hand and we flew. It felt so surreal. So nice. So peaceful and wonderful. It felt like simpler times. We developed an unusual friendship even after his death. He'd often visit me only in my dreams and for some reason I never knew why. Why me? Maybe today I can look back and realize I was destined to become a Hmong shaman which was why he was able to communicate and visit me. I even had a dream once where I was taken back to the day he passed and I was trying to save him but out of no where these two very tall and muscular Hmong men, dressed in all black, came to grab me and I flew away with them. I was so angry that they didn't save him. But now I understand that no matter how I wished the facts were different, he was dead and my ancestors would not allow me to go with him. It was them and my shaman spirit who came down to rescue me from potentially leaving with him. They had a purpose for me that at the time I did not understand but now I do. They meant to show me that even if I can't change the fact that my friend had died, I was destined to become a shaman to one day help people from meeting unexpected deaths such as my friend. At the time, I didn't care if I left with him. I didn't care that in that dream if I tried saving him and died, I would leave everything behind. I was blinded by my own suffering. I truly believe that my shamans saved me that day. I believe they were always with me and they saw me suffering. I believe they had to let me learn and walk my own path.

Shortly after that dream, I stopped having dreams of my relationship with my dear friend. My grandma had done a special ritual to send him off. She offered money and food for his journey. She said if he truly loved me as a friend, brother, or even partner, to leave me be and live my life because my purpose here on Earth is yet to be lived by a long and prosperous life. The night after my grandma had done this ritual, I had a dream, one that would be the last and final dream I'd ever see him again. He came to me in my room. He came up close to my face. In my dream, I touched his face. For the first time in my dream I knew he was dead. We didn't say a word. But, he slowly walked to my drawer and opened the second drawer. He smiled back at me and I simply woke up... His smile felt like a "see you later, my friend" type of smile. One that salutes you in a good-bye. He never meant any harm. So, I woke up. I walked over and realized that in my drawer, second from the top, was a picture I had of us... I went to the lake later that day, buried it, and ever since then I'd never had a single dream of him to this day. Something tells me he has found his peace.

It is strange that even after his death, I found a greater love for him and also for me. I shared with a ghost a brotherly love, a friendship love, and perhaps even a relationship love. It was through his death that I found acceptance for myself.

The point of the post is, we go through situations in our lives that perhaps we don't understand at the moment. We may not like it, enjoy it, and may even suffer through it. But, our purpose in life is shaped by what we learn through these experiences. Take every experience, good or bad, and learn from it. You win when you learn from it.

-tfl