What's been happening!

Hi!  Long time no post.  All is good.

The People in my Hips at MRT last Spring was awesome.  With the new ending recounted in these pages.  My sister and my brother attended.  It was pretty wild.  I could hear them weeping in the audience.  Awesomely wonderful.  Show was again a big success.

Manhattan Rep has moved to a new space (a long and crazy story - maybe one day I will blog about it.) Manhattan Rep now is a flex space so I am hoping to start teaching ENERGY YOGA there.  It is a Yoga practice I have developed to help balance and release the wacky energy we hold in our bodies. Hoping to put up another production of The People in my Hips in April with the announcement of ENERGY YOGA at MRT.  I will keep you posted.

I still am amazed at how I have changed because of the People in my Hips.  There is this wonderful sense of peace and security that I now have in just being me.  I am not as dramatic about life - I live it and I simply deal for the most part with the goofy stuff.  And my Yoga practice is still so special, balancing me, making me smile more and making me just feeling better overall.  

I attended a AERIAL YOGA workshow where everyone hangs from silk slings like in Cirque du Soleil and I have to tell you, for a chronicalogically aging man, I did GREAT. Most of the class was 20 to 25 years younger and I totally kept up.  It was a great affirmation of Yoga and what it has done for me across the board.

Hopefully, one day I will teach Aerial Yoga, but we are definitely getting a sling at MRT so I can hang upside down before I go on stage in The People in my Hips!  (Love it!)

Anyway, I will keep you posted more often about all.  It has been a long time, but a really good time.

Namaste!

Ken

Posted on February 14, 2012 .

The Return of The People in my Hips at Manhattan Rep!

So I have the dates and it is happening.  The People in my Hips play will be returning to Manhattan Rep this April.

We are opening Wednesday April 6 and then playing Friday April 8 and Saturday April 9, all at 7 pm.  Hopefully, there will be demand so we can extend it on-going.

I am totally rewriting the play and adding the NEW ending.  It is going to be awesome.  I am very excited.

Just yesterday I photoshopped the new People in my Hips logo.  I love it.

Check out THE DARK MAN and BABY KEN on the Logo.  And I look pretty cool as Shiva, huh?

 

When I look at this, I have to say, it affects me.  The Dark Man's photo is adapted a bit and changed, but this is the God honest truth, I really used his image.  That's him from over 40 years ago.  Wow, the wonder of the Internet.  Scary too.

So why did I make this choice, to use his image?  Because this is a true story.  I can't announce his name for I really don't have proof, but a part of me feels everyone who comes to my show should see this man's evil face.

I guess I am not that enlightened to forgive him.  I probably never will.  But I don't hate him.  He is dead.  I am sure he has paid for his RAGE and EVIL 1000 times over in his lifetime.  That is just how it works.

But the good news is I FORGIVE MYSELF for making whatever choices that led me down that road so many years ago.  I am so damned happy being healed, and also, so damned happy that I finally know the truth about one of the major events which contributed to my crazy PTSD and the People in my Hips.

Ain't life Grand?

Posted on January 10, 2011 .

New Trailer and The People in my Hips play returns...

Hey Gang,

Happy New Year!

The Good news is The People in my Hips (the Play) is returning this Spring now that I have a new ending, and Oprah is finishing her show so I have got to move my butt.  

I just put together a new trailer with some new footage. Check it out and let me know what you think.  

Every time I look at this footage, I am frightened and amazed.

Wishing you all good stuff for the New Year!

 

 

 

Posted on January 3, 2011 .

THE TALE # 68 - THE STORY UNFOLDS and my Watcher revealed!

All roads converge at Starbucks, and to healing, even if it is 40 years later.

I was originally going to go to the bigger Starbucks in Marmaroneck for I had a hole in my schedule and I could do some work on my laptop but I decided on a whim to go to the little and nearer Starbucks in Rye Brook to save some time.

As I was parking, I saw her.  My sister Margie getting out of her Honda Civic.  Bizarre.  Whenever I met her it was always at the Starbucks in Rye.  She was here unexpectedly, and so was I.  This was not an accident.  It was time to learn more.

“Ken, I have more for you.  I remembered more in therapy.  Do you want to hear?”

“Yes, I do. I really do.”

My younger sister Margie was my WATCHER.  During our conversation here at Starbucks in Rye Ridge, NY, 15 minutes ago, she gave me permission to reveal her identity.

“So I have remembered more. I knew there was a piece missing.  There was one place where I would get nauseous whenever I would relive it in therapy.  How could I know he had squinty eyes if I was so far away when I saw him beating you?  That was the question that was driving me crazy.”

Since our meeting in the park when she first revealed to me that she was witness to my beating with an aluminum baseball bat by THE DARK MAN, she has been obsessed about remembering and actually traveled up to our old home in Yorktown where all this took place so many years ago.  In the process of retracing her steps, she actually ran into the grandson of THE DARK MAN and had a conversation with him!  What happened to her 40 years ago for the most part was very very real now, with just few holes in her consciousness.

“After I saw him beating you and he saw me, I ran. I didn’t know what to do. And then I was grabbed by someone. I turned. It was his wife! “Your brother has been a bad boy, a very bad boy. You can’t tell anyone, you will get hurt if you do.” She screamed. I pulled away and ran.  I was at the curb now, and my shoe got stuck in the sewer drain there, and fell off and I ran away without it.  I ran up the block. I didn’t know what to do.  Now here is the part, that has been dark, where I would always get nauseous, every time we would do the therapy, I would get nauseous.  But I remember now, not totally, but I remember now.”

And then she told me how THE DARK MAN, when he saw her must have run up behind our house and cut her off, and then confronted her.  

“He was like an animal, he was so mad, like an animal, and that is when I saw his squinty eyes.  That is when I saw them, those eyes, those squinty eyes, that is when I saw them.”

He then must have shoved her down on to the ground, telling her not to tell anyone.  (I must have been unconscious while this was going on.)  Then somehow, she doesn’t remember yet, she was able to get away and run, and then with only one shoe, she ran up the block, across backyards and then down a cul de sac where she hid in the bushes in fear.  About a half hour later, she slowly walked back frightened out of her mind to see if I was ok.  From down the block, she saw me slowly walking up the lawn from the DARK MAN’s house to our house.  I was alive.  She then followed me up, and went in the back door to our house and curled up in a ball on the couch, never talking to me about it, or at least that is the case in her memory now.

Walking up to the house is one memory that kept reoccurring in me during my People in my Hips journey.  Walking up to the house thinking “ I can’t tell anyone about this. HE WILL KILL ME IF I DO.  I HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET or I will die.”  

That is when my unconscious mind made the choice to make me forget.

I am sitting here in Starbucks weeping…

 

40 years later. How many times has my unconscious mind caused me to forget in 40 years?

How much of my reality and self image are real, or has my mind been picking and choosing to erase events so that I can function and feel good about myself?

That is a crazy ass question.  I am not going there.  Not today.

 

Margie had to run to work, but before that I had her plot out the path she ran on a make shift map I drew with a Red Sharpie on a Starbucks napkin.

 

“This was the most incredible thing I have ever experienced.” She said softly.

“Me too.”

We are connected now. Profoundly connected.  Her story brings validity and truth to mine, and mine to hers.

Even her therapist, who viewed this site and all the videos, said that it seemed like both of us were telling the SAME story, that was somehow lost in our unconscious minds.

When Margie was in Yorktown, retracing her steps, when she talked with the GRANDSON of THE DARK MAN, she discovered that THE DARK MAN divorced his first wife, and remarried.  The woman who grabbed her to protect her CRAZY HUSBAND, was not the woman who was widowed when the DARK MAN died in the car accident in 2006.  His first wife, THE DARK WOMAN, was still alive.  She was 76 and she still lived in Yorktown.

“ I think we should go and talk with her.” I said tentatively.

“I don’t know.”

“ I think we should.”

“Let’s talk.  I gotta run.”

 

We hugged, a long silent hug.

 

I am sitting here wondering what I should do.  Part of me loves the idea of talking with this woman for it could be an amazing closure and completion of this story, but part of me is frightened, the child part of me, the part of me that split off and became Baby Ken living in my hips.

I can’t go back there.  I won’t.  I never want to ever be in that place again. That place where I battled the DEMONS inside.

But I want to know more.

 

I will keep you posted.

 

Posted on October 30, 2010 .

HEARING A STORY FROM MY FORGOTTEN PAST...

Sorry it has taken over a week to get this entry to you.

It has been a lot to process.  Just amazing.  Here it is.

---------------

We met at Starbucks and then went for a walk down by the library and sat together on a wooden green bench. It was so bizarre.  How could this person know?  It was 40 years ago when the DARK MAN perpetrated his madness on me and 40 years ago when I locked that traumatic memory deep in my subconscious mind and in the muscles of my body.   How could this person know?  I didn’t even know and I was there. I have sifted through the sand of my unconscious for years. All I have are brief frightening images, (trees, a porch, a balding man, being so scared to tell anyone for fear I would be murdered) and the crazy somatic responses in my body while I was involved in my People in Hips journey (hands on my neck, being hit repeatedly on my back and all over my body, and an automatic bouncing of my body that seemed as if I was being raped.)

Now this person from my past was going to tell me what happened.  It was 40 years ago.

And I thought this story was finished...

I am crying as I write this for it is the beginning a long conclusion.  I thought putting it away in a box in my past was enough, and it is enough to prevent the PTSD, to prevent the shaking, to prevent the spontaneous cramping of my hip flexors.  It’s enough. Putting it in a box in the past works.  It relieves the pain, the present day pain. There is no baby Ken here, no Dark Man. They are and were manifestations of my past, my trauma, my lost childhood.  

But now, knowing the truth seems somehow… sublime.

It is said that the truth will set you free, and in my case, it will.  It will set me free from the fear of not knowing, free from the fear of being crazy and free from the fear of Baby Ken and The Dark Man returning someday for even more fun. The truth will firmly seat me in my body, validating my People in my Hips experience as being real.

After all this, I like real.

 

Now this person from my past was going to tell me what happened.  It was 40 years ago.

Amazing.

So this is what was remembered in hypnosis… not mine… this person’s hypnosis.  (I am going to tell the tale in the female gender although that is not necessarily the proper gender, for I was asked to keep this anonymous.)

She was walking up a road in Yorktown, and heard noise - yelling, arguing coming from down the hill behind a house across from where I lived as a child.  (The same house that my hip lead me to on December 24, 2006 - the day I was cured of my PEEPS condition.)  She walked further down the road where she could see what was happening down behind the house.  

I was there.  Yelling. Wearing a red plaid shirt, my hair parted at the side.

And a MAN was yelling back at me.  Balding.  Dark squinty eyes. Partially graying. He was standing on his back porch.  Yes, that porch that porch, the one I remembered so often in Yoga, that porch connected with so so so so much fear.

“I can walk through your yard anytime I want.” I said defiantly.

“Oh no you can’t.” He yelled back.

“I am just taking the path down through the woods.”  (Yes, those woods the woods that I remembered so often in fear.)  

“Get out of there!  Get off my property!

“I will do what I want.” Egging him on like I egged on my father. “What are you going to do about it?

There was an aluminum bat, with a red handle and a silver top.  It was in his hand.  He came at me.

“Leave me alone. Get away.  God damnit! Get away!”

And then she saw this man, this DARK MAN, this god damned fucking monster of humanity come at me. As I turn to run, he hits me in the back of my left knee with the bat. I fall against a big oak tree, and the Dark Man starts to beat me repeatedly as I scream in terror.

THE DARK MAN stops a moment and turns, and sees, maybe he sees or maybe he doesn’t see but this person watching thinks he sees her so she runs and runs and runs, terror racing through her veins. She runs and runs and runs and has to get help but she is so scared - she doesn’t know what to do, she is so so so so crazy scared she needs to help me but she can’t  -  “Should I go to a neighbors house please god oh please someone help me help that boy I know down the hill he is going to die but I don’t know what to do Oh please please help!”

She runs frantically around the block, down a nearby cul-de-sac and around the block again.  She just runs, she becomes the running she becomes the fear “oh god I have to help and I CAN’T.”

A while later, know one knows yet how long, she makes her way back.  She sees me as I come hobbling up the hill from the DARK MAN’s PORCH and his TREE OF DEATH, to my house. (That memory I had during Yoga and in therapy - walking up to my house being so scared so hurt - someone, yes, THE DARK MAN told me NOT TO TELL ANYONE or else he would KILL ME.  HE WOULD KILL ME IF I TOLD ANYONE.  I had to keep it a secret, a secret, or he would kill me.  So what better way to keep a secret - MAKE YOURSELF FORGET.)  She saw this my memory of my fear, and she still didn’t know what to do.  She watched as I hobbled up to my home, beaten and …. Oh God, I think something else but I just don’t know yet… I just don’t know.

Please, can I keep that in the box.

Because of this event, my “Watcher” spent the rest of her life up until now unconsciously trying to help/save people for she was unable to help me on that oh so dark day, 40 years ago.

And I, by the DARK MAN, was given the curse (now gift) of the people in my hips.

One event changed the course of our lives.  I thought this was my story but the miracle here is, it wasn’t.  This tale, my tale is shared.  Someone was there.  Someone was there.

Oh God, it was real.

 

“Can you ever forgive me?” my “Watcher” wept as we sat together on that park bench.  “Can you ever forgive me, I didn’t know what to do, I had to run, I couldn’t help myself I had to run I had to -  can you forgive me please oh please oh please?”

She was there again.  A child begging my forgiveness.

“Of course I forgive you. You didn’t do anything.  He did.  He’s the evil one. Of course I forgive you.  I am fine. It is forty years later, and I am doing really well.  That was the past. It’s over.”

“I didn’t want to tell you.  Are you alright?  I didn’t want to bring stuff up for you.”

“I am fine.  Totally fine. You didn’t do anything. You were a child.  Just a child.”

She wept as we embraced.  I felt somehow devoid of emotion, yet filled with so much compassion for my dear and wonderful Watcher.

 

I vaguely remember the incident behind the Dark Man’s house.  The somatic feelings of getting hit on my back when the People in my Hips first manifested big time now made sense.  I was beat on my back by an aluminum bat.  The somatic hands on my throat must have been his, and the memory of being held down when I had the Moobee points done on me by Alexander Hand, must have also been from this experience also.

And then there was the somatic memory of being raped which showed up in Yoga.  Did that happen that day when my Watcher ran away?  I don’t know.  … And I think so.

The next day, I received a phone call from my Watcher.  She found out the identity of THE DARK MAN by searching the internet and she found a picture.  In the picture, he was balding with dark squinty eyes.  It was him.

He was dead.  He died three years ago, in 2007, in a car accident.  

He can’t hurt me ever again.

 

When my hip lead me to his house on that fateful Christmas Eve in 2006 when I was cured of my condition, the Dark Man was probably sitting in his house less than 30 yards away.

The world works in mysterious ways.

 

------------------------------

Here is that video from that fateful Christmas Eve re-presented here in this context.

 

 

Posted on September 27, 2010 .

Therapy with Dr. Freud - WHO IS THE DARK MAN?

I met with that person that I talked about in my last entry. Amazing. Truly amazing. I will write about it soon, keeping that individual's identity confidential for that is what that person requested.

It is clear now who the DARK MAN is.  

And yes, he is evil incarnate.

 

Follows are two videos of a therapy session I had 5 years ago when I was in the middle of my CRAZY People in my Hips adventure.  I was going to wait to put these videos in the documentary that I am putting together on THE PEEPS, but because of what happened, what I have learned - what my friend told me was remembered, I am posting this.  Not so much for me, but for this person so there can be closure and maybe even more discovery on their end.

Here are the videos.  This is really cool therapy.

 

 

Posted on September 19, 2010 .

Wow, where did this come from? A gift?

So I met with someone from my past who wishes to remain anonymous who has through therapy remembered something which sheds light on my still foggy childhood rape abuse or whatever happened to me which came up prominently in my People in my Hips journey.  I just talked with this person and this individual was unwilling to go into details right now, but we are going to meet in the near future and I will get the lowdown.

I am feeling a little scared now.  Goose pimples and some fear in my body.  Wow, isn't that interesting.

It was 40 years ago.    I can deal.

I will keep you posted.

Posted on September 17, 2010 .

Attitude and Possibility can conquer all!

Check out this video from when I was in the middle of my People in my Hips adventure.  I had already been dealing with this crazy bouncing PTSD with Baby Ken in my hips for two years, and I am still upbeat.

This video makes me cry.  In a really good way.

 

Posted on September 14, 2010 .

What's Next?

Hi Gang,

I know it has been a while since I wrote on this blog.  I just want to let you know that I am still deeply connected and committed to getting this story out into the mainstream media.  No one knows about or talks about this stuff and it needs to be explored.

I am in the process of putting together a film about my People in the Hips experience, and I am having a hard time finding the format.  When I did my one man show I was able to theatrically tell the story of things I didn't film by acting out scenes, using sound clips and more, but how do I tell the story filmatically if I don't have the footage of the real events.  Do I do act out scenes and film them?  Do I tell the story documentary style?  I have been at an impasse for weeks.

In the process of trying to figure out how to do this film, I went through and loaded into my computer ALL of the 200 hours of People in the Hips footage from that crazy time.  I have discovered some wild new footage that I will be using in the film, but I will post some of it here.

If any of you have any ideas about the CONTEXT of telling this story as a film, please let me know by emailing me at thepeopleinmyhips@gmail.com.  I have a few ideas which I will be working through in the next week or so and I will keep you posted on this process.

A client of mine had a connection to two Oprah producers so I sent out two extensive emails outlining a possible segment for the show.  No word.

I ain't giving up.

Posted on September 11, 2010 .

The Tale # 66 - Denouement

Since that fateful day in December 2006, I have had no visitations from Baby Ken or the Dark Man.  As I write this 3 and a half years later, I am still amazed I had what I experienced as ENTITIES in my body.  It is all like a wild dream.  I still can't believe all of what happened to me as a result of TRAINING in YOGA.

Emotionally I am better than ever.  Everyday when I wake up and look over at my amazing girlfriend and our little dog Roma, I thank God that I am waking up ALONE.  There is just one of me.  I am not disjointed. I am not broken.  I am not in PAIN.

There is this strange soft peace in me now, knowing that no matter what happens to me in life, there is this still strong voice inside me, call it my soul, call it my true self, or call it God, and not matter what happens, this still strong voice will alway be there to guide me, support me, and carry me through any and all adversity.

This still strong voice inside me which I embraced during my People in my Hips adventure is the gift, the reason, the growth, the why I lived through the madness.  It has empowered me in a myriad of ways some I can't even describe with words.  I am so so grateful I went on this journey.  I am a better happier man because of it.

I still experience some occasional trauma in my hips. Recently I developed severe Sciatica (my tale is documented in these pages - search NOWTODAY to find those entries) which manifested from poor lifting and tightness in my hip area.  In working it out with stretching and some chiropractic work, I have experienced some faint old trauma feelings in my hips BUT NOTHING in comparison to what went on for me during my People in my hips journey.  When it comes up, I notice it and let it go.  Will it ever totally vacate my body this old trauma energy?  It think not.  But it will NEVER take over my life again.  I am present, here and now, and I plan and know that I will keep it that way.  

We are all responsible for and have power over our lives even in the face of crazy adversity.  The key for me is the belief that in any given moment in time there is possibility for change.  It may not happen today, but if one persists and works toward any goal, or against any obstacle, things will eventually change.  The key is to never give up and to keep changing what you are doing when what you are doing isn't working.

I still hope to someday get on Oprah,  (I know I only have a year to go.)  but I am not going to drive myself crazy in the process of getting on her show to help people with similiar PTSD multiple personality issues.  I can get the word out and help people without Oprah's show to help me.

But it would be cool to share this story with her after all I went through and how that hope, the hope to be on her show, helped me keep going even when the going got tough. But in any case, I have lots of people to connect to, and I think a really important message to share.

I believe a huge percentage of "MENTAL ILLNESS" is simply cause by energy imbalance.  The problem is when MENTAL ILLNESS occurs most individuals go to drugs to manage it, and that is just dealing with the symptom, and not what I believe is the cause.  I thank God, I never took drugs to manage my "MENTAL ILLNESS".  Yes, it wasn't fun, but I was able to look and explore, and ultimately, by following my intuition, my gut, and that still strong voice inside me, I was able to cure myself of my condition.

This is the end to the People in the Hips Story Arc #1.  In the months ahead, I will be sharing more tales of my journey as they become relevant, more insights on energy/Yoga/Bodywork and illness, and more.

I am not done.  This story is too big and too important to be marked as "read" and to be put on a bookshelf somewhere.

It's time we look at all in a new way.

In any given moment in time, there is possibility.  Let's keep exploring.

 

with best regards,

Ken Wolf

sitting in Starbucks 

7:40 a.m.

June 16, 2010

 

Posted on June 16, 2010 .

THE TALE # 65 - Going Home in Search of the DARK MAN

It was coming out of every pore, following me, almost torturing me.  I was undone, trying so desperately to hold on.  Why was this memory, this energy, this person or persons, why were they in me and how the hell could I get them out?  I tried rolling again and again, nothing, I walked around trying to dissipate the energy in my body, and nothing.  It was there living in me and on this day Christmas Eve, 2006 it had taken control of me.  I had to do something.  What what the hell could I do?  Please God help me!

And then I knew.

I would go home.  Back to Yorktown.  Where I grew up. And search for him. The Dark Man. That man who did something to me, something so horrendous that I pushed it into my body and out of my mind.  I would go back to my home, and then let the People in my Hips find him!  Yes, I know it was crazy, but what else could I do?  I had to get this energy out of my body, Baby Ken and the Dark Man.  It was time. Time to be free.  Time to get them out once and for all and if it meant REMEMBERING THE DARK STUFF, I would do that.

I pulled my car out of the parking garage on 44th St. and headed toward the West Side Highway.

I had my lifeline with me. My little panasonic Video camera.  I would film my journey.  I would film my discoveries.  I would make this happen.  

My legs were shaking as I drove, and my head would shake occasionally all by itself.  I was really scared.  Some of it was old stuff, and some of it was present day fear, fear of what I might discover going back there, to the scene of the crime 40 years earlier.  I turned on the camera and talked as I drove.

“I am on the West Side Highway going up to Yorktown…”  Oh God please help me.

It was a beautiful sunny winter day, cold and crisp.  My little Green Honda Civic puttered along as I made my way up the West Side Highway to The Saw Mill Parkway to the Taconic State.  At the Taconic State Parkway, I started to shake and my teeth started to chatter a bit.  What the fuck was I doing?  NO NO NO NO NO NO  I had to get this HELL out of me.  BABY KEN and the DARK MAN - I had to get them out. I wanted my life back, oh please please please.

I turned on the carmera and talked.  Talking to the camera grounded me.  Kept me centered. Kept me focused.  Who knows maybe some day this video will be on Oprah when I share this tale to the world.  Maybe today, maybe today I will know and by knowing maybe I will be healed.

The search was on.

What if he was there, still alive after 40 years.  He would have to be very old, but what if he were alive, and I found him, what would I do?  What could I do?  And what if he wanted to hurt me again.

I got images of Pine Trees and of the back porch and of moldy wet smells.  Damp. Cold.  Could it be that house across the street on Mark Rd?  I would know soon enough.

I drove down the road that led to the development in Yorktown where I lived.  I was scared.  Baby Ken was with me and my right hip was throbbing.  Talking to me, or just throbbing.  No, I am not ready to listen, but I have to. I have to. It is time to be free again.

I got to Edcris Rd.  The road that I grew up on.  The road where I lived.  The place where lots of things happened, dark bad things, and even more I can’t remember, trapped in my hips.  It was time for my hips to talk.

I was surprisingly lucid now driving down the block.  I was curious, more curious than scared now.  I drove down the street.  Gary Sabia’s house, The Luperellos House, Pagano’s and then my house, our house, where I grew up and made movies and put on puppet shows.  Where I smoked pot at 13 and threw eggs off the roof on Halloween at the passing cars.  The house, my home where I grew up, where I learned to be creative to deal with the madness around me.

As I drove by I felt nothing in my hips.  It was quiet.  I drove down Mark Rd past the house where something may have happened.  Nothing.  Nothing.  What?  NO please no!  I need this out of me. Out of me!  

I turned the car around.  I was talking to the video camera now.  I am feeling nothing and then…

My body started to bounce, oh my God it was here, something happened here, Baby Ken was with me now and he was scared, we were both together, both of us.

I pulled over.

What happened here?  What happened?  Talk to me!  Talk to me.

We are both in my consciousness - Baby Ken is scared so so scared.

Talk to me.  Talk to me. What happened?  

My face is twisted. We are both here. The Dark Man in my right hip is there too.

What happpened?  Talk to me!  Talk to me.  What happened?

He is right with me.  Baby Ken.  We are one.  What happened?  MY God, it was 40 years ago.

IT WAS 40 YEARS AGO!!!!!!!!!

 

Baby Ken heard me.  He was here now in 2006, not 1966. 

There was no Dark Man here.  No one.  Just a video camera and a green Honda Civic driving through an old development.  There was no Dark Man here.  It was 2006.  Christmas Eve. The Dark Man was gone. Probably died.

I/Baby Ken don’t belong here. I have grown up…..

I wept.

Something happened just then.  I didn’t know what.  

But Baby Ken, the Dark Man, the shaking, the fear...

    was somehow transformed into the tears of a 48 year old man, quietly sobbing alone in his car.

 

 

 

-----------------------------------------------

 

Here is the real video from that fateful day.  

 

It is really unsettling to watch...

 

...and quite amazing.

 

Let me know what you think.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on May 21, 2010 .

The Tale # 64 - BOUNCING LEPER NO MORE?

The Roller was like a drug, a good drug, a healthy drug, but an addictive drug just the same.

I became obsessed with rolling out my Chakras/Meridians.  As I rolled, I shook and bounced, vibrated and cried a bit, but every time within 30 minutes after rolling, any pain or congestion or cramping would totally disappear.

It was a miracle. 

This silly piece of styrofoam was my saviour. Because of it I was me again. No more fear about someone yelling behind me causing to cramp up unexpectedly.  No more fear of losing my job and all income because I become a cripple from the Peeps.  No more fear about my life.

And when the cramping and congestion disappeared so would Baby Ken and The Dark Man, as if somehow they WERE that CRAMPING ENERGY, like the Black Smoke Monster from the TV show LOST.

All of a sudden, there was this opening in my life.  There was clearly possibility again, possibility to be normal again, to be just like everyone else, not a Bouncing Leper anymore.

So I lived with my Roller.  That Summer, I actually took it and Tennis balls (I would roll on the balls to release also) on a Trip to Bar Harbor, Maine.  Each morning and each night I would roll out, to insure that nothing or no one, no SMOKE MONSTER would ruin my trip or my life.  

It was a miracle.

 

That September, I stopped my therapy with Dr. Freud, and my one on one sessions with Douglasss.  That is when I also signed the lease on my new theatre, Manhattan Repertory Theatre, on 42nd St. in Manhattan.  Life was so so so filled with possibility now.  My old girlfriend Jen and I had recently hooked up again, and AT LAST THE WORLD WAS MY OYSTER, and boy, was I ready to eat.

I had three blissful months of rolling out normality. Building out and then producing plays in our new theatre. Meeting new people.  Passionately producing new plays in the evening, while working out and doing Yoga in classes and with private clients during the day.  When my hips or my body got tight, I would roll out, shake a bit, and then all would be normal.  It was working! Thank God, it was working!

Thank you, God.   I am normal again.

And then, one week in late December, after rolling out, the ENERGY, The SMOKE MONSTER, BABY KEN AND THE DARK MAN, wouldn’t go away.  They took over!  They took over my ENTIRE SPINE.  I would roll out, and roll out and NOTHING.  I became like a live wire channeling in EVERYTHING from my past, a million memories and feelings at once, and I knew it was old, but I could feel it and feel it and it wouldn’t go away - the energy was so strong and ever present and OH GOD NO NO NO PLEASE NO! 

I WANT TO BE NORMAL!  PLEASE!

 

I had to stay present.  I had to keep reminding myself that these CRAZY feelings were from the past.  I could not start to BELIEVE in these feelings.  They were not real, not real, not real, not real...

OH GOD, HELP ME!


Here is a video from the morning of December 24, 2006, 

the day it all changed for me…

 

… forever.

 

Posted on May 17, 2010 .

The Tale # 63 - Upside down Discovery

The whole paradigm of ENERGY release versus MUSCLE release was fascinating.  I had been stretching the area where I was experiencing discomfort thinking that the discomfort was a caused of the tightness of the muscles and at one level it was.  But in reality, it was caused by the trapped energy in that area, causing my hip flexors and lower back to cramp.  In actuality the stretch of the problem area actually released MORE energy, call it Trauma energy or Kundalini or Chi or whatever.  So for three years, in my process to heal myself, I was actually releasing more energy in the problem area stretching those muscle causing that area to continue to cramp.   I was trapped in the conventional belief about what one should do with tight muscles - STRETCH!

DOES THIS MAKE ANY SENSE?

So the key to my problem physically, was to release the BLOCKAGES that were preventing the energy to flow through my chakras or meridians or… well, hell my body.  If I could release those blockages, those areas outside of the problem area, possible, just possibly, I could release the energy and be healed.

The acupuncture had been effective to a point, but it never cleared my energy more than about 80%.  I needed to somehow do MORE!

The idea hit me at the Gym a couple days later.  I was cramped up and I was hanging upside down on the stretch machine trying not to stretch my hip flexors too much when from that vantage point I saw one of those foam rollers that they have there by the mat area.  The rollers are made to release the fascia (the outer casing of muscles)  in various parts of your body by literally rolling on this styrofoam thing.  It was like a self massage.  These were the questions I asked myself from my bat like upside down position on the stretch machine:

WHAT IF I ROLLED OUT ON THE LIVER MERIDIAN?  Could it release more than the acupuncture?

Could it help clear out this nasty energy?


It was worth a try.

 

I jumped down, grabbed a long foam roller and made my way to a mat in the corner of the Gym.  It was mid afternoon so not so many people were around.  Thank God, I was not up to making a bouncing spectacle of myself.

I started by rolling the roller on my quads and immediately my head started to shake side to side.

Oh damn!

I then rolled over and started to roll on my upper lower back right where the muscles connect with my rib cage.  My legs kicked up.

This is wild.  This could be it. Damn.  Keep going, Ken, keep going!

I rolled side to side on my lower back and my legs jumped and I started to cry, old painful trauma stuff but also DISCOVERY stuff, maybe this, god damnit, maybe this could finally be a solution.  It was this weird mix of bad old pain and unbelievable hopeful joy.  My body shook while I cried.  

I then turned over and rolled on my solar plexus.  My entire body bounced, shook, I cried and then I started to laugh, yes maybe please please oh god thank you! - is this it? - please god please!

I rolled for about 15 minutes.  The energy was definitely moving.

 

I took a shower and drove home, feeling like a million bucks. 

Like the old me, before all this happened.

 

That night, online, I ordered a foam roller of my own.

 

 

Posted on May 15, 2010 .

The Tale # 62 - LIVER

My hips were feeling better, but they weren't better.  There was some sort of energy release from what Dr. Yu did, but the energy was still there.  The next day, after my first session with Dr. Yu, I felt great.  But, by the end of the week, I was back to being locked up in my hips, with Baby Ken often causing me to shake.  Luckily, the Dark Man didn’t manifest. (Oh please no!)  When the Dark Man came out to play, it was bad.  It was like being stabbed by a harpoon in my right hip flexor.

So the following Monday, I decided to return to Dr. Yu to see if you could undo the energy again.  It was the same deal. 10 pins in my toes, pins in my quads, one pin in my solar plexus and 8 pins on my head.  Again, my body started to vibrate, tears flew, and I lay there for 30 minutes, while Dr. Yu wielded his energy magic with other devotees in the other cubicles.  30 minutes later, he reappeared, unpinned me, and promptly said, 

“Vely good.  How you feel?”

“I feel good, I mean weird but I feel better I think not all better but I think maybe I am a little maybe better.”

He looked confused.

“What you say?”

“I feel better, yes I feel better.”

“Vely Good.  Energy maybe go away.”

“I hope so. Why does this happen?”

He paused, squinted his eyes and said:

“I not see this offen but I see with Qi Gong. Many have too too too much energy - locked inside.”

Qi Gong is a Chinese Yoga like practice which was banned by the Chinese government.

“Really, you have seen this.”

“Yes, many times, not here, in China I see.  Many times.  Many times.  Come you here please you?

He motioned for me to follow him to his office.

On the wall in his office was a big chart of the Energy meridians in the body.  He pointed to one of the lines.

“This is Liver melidian. Yours is blocked. Lots of energy stuck. You need to release. Acupuncture help.”

I looked at the chart.  The liver meridian comes up from the toes, up through the inner thigh and hip flexor, up into the lower back and liver and then up to the middle of the ribs by the solar plexus and then up the front of the neck, to the eyes and then the forehead.   It was almost exactly the areas where I was experiencing my crazy cramping and crazy energy flow.

 



WHAM!  It was like an anvil was dropped on my head.

The answer lay not in stretching the areas where I was cramped up, like I had been doing for years with Yoga.

The solution was in releasing the blocked areas around where I was cramping up so the energy could flow!!!

BAM! WHAM!  OUCH THAT ANVIL HURTS!  

No wonder the energy would flow left and right left and right cramping my lower back and hip flexors.  It was trapped between my rib cage and my quads.

My answer lie not in my PROBLEM -the cramped muscles, but in the ENVIRONMENT around it - the energy blocks in at my ribcage and quads.  If I could release those areas, possibly my symptoms would dissipate.  It was worth a try. 

 

But the big question was this?  

 

 

If this is just an energy block, why are Baby Ken and the DARK MAN living in my hips?

 


Posted on May 13, 2010 .

The TALE # 61 - Pizza with Acupuncture

It was late July 2006.  I was a mess.  My hip energy was moving side to side, from one hip to another, and I had this weird burning sensation in my back.  I was in Marmaroneck, NY. I had just somehow made it through my morning workout classes pretending that I was OK.  I talked through most of the class without demonstrating and smiled a lot, but I was worried that at any moment my hip would lock up and I would start to shake, and my universe would explode.  I stayed HIGH ENERGY and I made it through the class.

As I was cleaning up, I knew I had to do something, and I also knew I had to EAT.  Eating was this bizarre way that I would manage my condition.  Often by pigging out on really bad unhealthy yet delicious food, somehow that child part of me, Baby Ken, or the weird energy in me would simmer down.  Usually it was sugar, usually in the form of cookies, cake or pie, but this particular day, it was PIZZA.  My wacked out inner child who was now my outer child named Baby Ken wanted PIZZA!  And not just any Pizza, Baby Ken wanted Sal’s Pizza!

Sal’s Pizza is legendary - his Sicilian Pizza is baked twice, first with the amazing sauce, and then with the abundant cheese.  The result is this utterly awesome crisp saucy cheesy slice of Heaven.  I needed some Heaven.  Baby Ken needed it too.

So that is how I ended up in Marmaroneck, NY, home to the amazing Sal’s Pizza.  I had three (count ‘em), three slices.

After my smorgasbord of Italian delight, I went for a walk down the avenue.  I was still a bit unsettled and walking often helped.

At the end of the avenue, there was a storefront with a small simple sign that read: “David Yu, Acupuncture - No appointment necessary.”  I stood for a moment in front of the store, and then a little voice inside me said “Go for it. What have you got to lose?”  I suddenly remembered when Alexander Hand did his crazy MOOBEE points on me and my world turned upside down.  What if this acupuncture freed Baby Ken?  What if the NEEDLES manifested even more of this crazy energy in me?

I walked away.  

 

I can’t have that happen.  No, I can’t.

 

I walked to the top of the hill by a parking garage, and I turned around.

Go for it.

It was that little voice.

Go for it, Ken.  The answer may lie with Dr. Yu.

I walked back and entered his storefront office.  It was a large room that used to be a Jewelry store.  Makeshift 8 foot tall cubicles lined up against one wall, all painted gray.  There was a desk up front and a small office room in the back.  Dirty gray carpeting.  No one was there.

I waited.  

5 minutes later, Dr. Yu appeared.  I don’t think he was a Doctor but calling him a doctor in my head just felt better at the time.

He was small, about 5’ 4” with jet black hair and a chiseled face.

“How may yai hep u?”

Oh no, this dude doesn’t speak English.  Hell, maybe there are Asian prostitutes in the back.  This was not a good sign.

“Um I am uh having problems in my hips. It hurts… and it’s tight.”  There was no way he would be able to understand my real story, and also no way he would ever understand my telling of it, so I kept it simple.

“I am tight here.” And I pointed to my hip flexors.

“Ok Ok, I know.  Yes, Ok go in hea please. “ He pointed to one of the cubicles.

“Thanks.”

“No ploblem.  NO Ploblem.”

“Oh yes PLOBLEM” I thought as I entered, “Oh Yes PLOBLEM!”

“Now take off shirlt and pant.  Then Yai down pleas.”

He pointed to a pink massage table.  I slowly removed my shirt and pants, and lay down on the table.

“Ok now I put needle in.  No ploblem, easy.”

Time to go back to Sal’s.  I needed PIzza, or Gelato, or anything other than NEEDLES.

He took 10 needles and put on in each of my 10 toes.  Then he placed 3 needles in each of my quads, 4 needles along my outer rib cage,  and then finally at least 8 needles in my crown of my head.

Cheeesy Heaven, please!

Then he took a lone needle and stuck it into my solar plexus. With that prick, I immediately started to cry, and hyperventilate.

Oh no no please not now not again no not again.

“You Ok?”  and then without even waiting for my response, he then attached an electrode to the pins connected to each of my pinky toes.

He is going to kill me.

“Now I turn on.  Easy for you.” He smiled.

I am going to woof my Sal’s  I know it.

Dr. Yu turned on the juice.  A light tingling sensation vibrated up my leg and then up my spine to the crown of my head.

“You Ok, good. I go away. Come back in half hour.”  And he left, just like that.

HALF HOUR?  30 whole minutes?  No No NO NO NO!  I feel like Frankenstein on Heroin.  30 minutes.  Oh no please no.

My body continued to vibrate. I started to count backwards from 100 to 1.  My toes were on fire.  I could feel energy flowing up and down my body, and the tears fell, disconnected, but still vaguely painful like a long forgotten nightmare.

89, 88, 87, 86.

I squeezed all the muscles in my face for my head started to vibrate side to side, and I was fearful that I would jam a pin through my brain if I vibrated hard enough.

76, 75, 74,   My left leg started to jump a bit. 

Oh hell, my leg is going to jump and disconnect the juice.

57, 56, 55,

There was a warm feeling in my brain. Something was happening.  How could I have a warm feeling in brain?  A brain doesn’t feel.

43, 42, 41, 40, 39

Please get me out of here, please get me out.  This is a Ploblem, a big Ploblem!

So I lay, and count, and shuttered, and vibrated.  Please God let this work!

20 minutes later, Dr. Yu appeared. He shut the juice and removed the pins. 

“How you feel?”

I stopped for a moment to take notice of what was going on in my body.  The energy in my body was moving.  My hips seemed somehow clearer, not crystal clear, but clearer.

“I feel OK.”

“Good, very good, Ok is good. Tank you!”

“Tank you too.”

I slowly got up off the massage table.  I felt better, not perfect, but better.

It was time for CAKE!

I walked down the block to Mozart’s cafe, sat at a corner table, ordered a cafe mocha, and a huge slice of Dark Chocolate cake.

A little voice inside whispered to me.

THE ANSWER LIES IN YU!  THE ANSWER LIES IN YU!

As I chomped down on my last forkful of Chocolate cake, I realized that there was something to this- maybe the solution to The People in m Hips. 

 

Posted on May 12, 2010 .

The TALE # 60 - The Train from Hell

The most frightening part of my People in my Hips experience was that I never knew when it would manifest.

Some days I would be fine, and others, I would be a wreck, barely even being able to walk, or just filled with OLD scary emotion from the past.  And then some days would be LIVING HELL.

It was February 2005.  I was taking the train home from NYC after seeing Douglass and Dr. Freud.  It was the 7:56 more or less express to Lower Putnam County.  

When I got on the train I knew something was up.  Whatever I had opened up in Yoga with Douglass and then in therapy with Dr. Freud was starting to work on me.  The train was crowded with commuters and day shoppers coming home after a long and tiresome day.  Whenever I got on a train, I would immediately search for a seat with a wall behind me.  Having a wall behind me felt safe. No one could hurt me from behind.  At the time, I knew it was crazy to do this, but the Peeps made it uncomfortable at times to sit with someone behind me, especially a man.  So I wouldn’t do it.  I always had a train wall behind me.  Unless there wasn’t a safe seat available.  This particular evening, that was the case.  Oh hell…

So I sat by a window with a small Puerto Rican man sitting behind me.  Small was good.  Small may not bring the fear, plus something was brewing in me, and a big guy behind me would not work.  A 30 year old woman sat down next to me with her 6 year old daughter.  She sat her daughter between me and her.  Oy.

Then behind me I heard my worst nightmare.  It was a large 6 foot tall business dude, booming about something stupid on his cellphone.  

Oh hell no a loud voice behind me please not now no not now!

The train started.  We began our trip through the tunnel to 125th St.  Something about the shaking vibration of the train was unsettling, and the man, the man with the big voice behind me was doing it to me.  Oh NO NO NO NO NO!

My hip began to cramp up, and I began to shake lightly.  I can't have this girl next to me see this.  And her Mom would freak.

AND PLEASE BUSINESS DUDE SHUT THE FUCK UP CAN’T YOU SEE I AM REGRESSING.  I AM A CHILD AGAIN DON’T FUCKING HIT ME PLEASE!

I started to breathe quietly.  I shut my eyes.  I will breathe and I will sit here in my self imposed darkness until it is safe to come out.

I felt trapped.  I breathed.  I prayed. I didn’t move, but my body started to shake.  I am not sure if the little girl or her mother saw me for I stayed in the darkness, hoping all would go away.

45 minutes later, we were almost at my stop, Goldens Bridge, where I would find my sanctuary where it was safe to bounce and cry and howl with the demons from my past.  But I had to get up, and Mommy and daughter were still there next to me.  They must be going to Purdys or Carmel or somewhere far. Damn.  I would have to get up. And when I get up I will start to bounce or fall over and I will scare this little girl next to me and most definitely her mother too.

I think fast.  I will write a letter.  I pull out my bag.  I am shaking.  I pull out a spiral notebook and write a note.

"I AM HAVING A PROBLEM WITH MY HIP AND I AM HAVING A HARD TIME WALKING AND I WILL BE SHAKING WHEN I GET UP AT MY STOP - GOLDENS BRIDGE.  I AM WRITING THIS NOTE TO YOU SO THAT I DON’T SCARE YOUR CHILD OR YOU.  I AM FINE."

I sit for a moment.  Should I give it to her?  It is weird.  But what is the alternative? Very weird.  I give Mommy the note.

She reads it, looks furtively at me, and then nods.  I smile.  My head is shaking slightly side to side.

We arrive at Goldens Bridge.  I nod to Mommy.  She gets up with baby girl.  I try to get up, great pain in my hip, and my body starts to shake.  She looks at me in fear and turns her baby girl away.  It seems like the whole train is looking at me as I shake like a cripple and make my way down the aisle, using the seats like crutches.  Tears are streaming from my eyes. 

I am a God Damn Leper! Oh please God why can’t I just get off a train like a normal person?

I exit the train.  I lean against a poster for some bad Broadway play.  The train pulls out.  I wait.  I wait until everyone leaves, and then I start my walk home.

I walk. I shake.  My hip hurts.  No one is watching.  All is fine.

 

I get home.  

 

I fall to the floor and pull my knees into my chest and cry.


Posted on May 3, 2010 .

THE TALE # 59 - RUNNING IN ARMONK

FLASHBACK:

It was April 2004, before I went to see Dr. Freud. Before I discovered who was trapped within me.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was driving home to my cabin in Goldens Bridge after training some clients and I started to feel it in my right hip.  Traditionally, it was in my left hip, (the “it” I am referring to is the BAD ENERGY - the DARK MAN as I later named him.)  I was unsettled, nervous, I would get a cup of coffee at Winston’s in Armonk.  The coffee would help.

I sat out in front of Winston’s and sipped my Coconut flavored coffee.  It wasn’t helping.  It was getting tight, my neck was getting tight, I started to shake a bit, and I was getting paranoid.

I would run.  I would run like a banshee and get this energy out of my hips.  Maybe if I ran hard enough and fast enough it would go away.  I threw out my coffee and went to my car.

I had been training private clients that morning so I had my workout gear on. I left my black windbreaker in the car, with my wallet.  I put my keys in my baggy pants pocket.

I started to walk down the block opposite Winston’s. I could feel emotions rising out of my right hip.  Scary feelings… and then I started to feel the burning, the burning going through my pelvis to my lower back.  

OH GOD it was happening!

I started to run, first slowly and then I accelerated.  My head started to shake softly side to side. 

NO NOT NOW please!  NOT NOW I don’t want to feel it. I want you to go away!   Go the HELL Away!

I burst into a sprint.  Tears started to fall from my eyes, and I had no idea why.  I started to yell.

GET AWAY FROM ME!  GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!  I want you out! Get the hell out! Get out of me!

My leg started to cramp.

NO, I am not going to let you win. I am not.  NOT THIS TIME GOD DAMNIT.

And I tried running faster.

I must have looked like a total nutcase, running down the road adjacent to Winston’s and the main drag of Armonk, screaming GET OUT GOD DAMNIT!  GET OUT!  

I didn’t want this in my anymore.  It wasn’t fair.  

I didn’t do anything!  Why are you doing this to me?  What did I do?

And when I look back now at my thoughts above, I can clearly see it was all about my unknown-lost-in-my-unconscious childhood abuse.

As a child, I experienced RANDOM childhood abuse.  Unexplainable.  It didn’t make any sense at the time, and now, then, when I was running, when my hip was cramping, I was in effect reliving the experience.  Something/someone unknown was hurting me.  

Again.

 

I got back to my car by Winstons, limping, my face more wet from tears than sweat, and I sat on the curb with my head in my hands, my right hip wracked in pain.

 

The past was the present.  This was not new.  It was old.  So very old. 40 years old.  And for some reason, it decided to erupt that day, hurting me deeply, beating me silly, without remorse.

 

Something or someone in me…

…was bent on destroying me.

 

 

Posted on May 1, 2010 .

Completing the tale... and then filling in!

Hey Gang,

Sorry I have been away.  Lots of work commitments and other exciting adventures and I have been dealing with the last remnants of my sciatica adventure (more on that soon.)  I was thinking that I have been doing you a disservice in not finishing THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS story for many of you have been following it since October.

So I have made a commitment to complete the story, or at least get to the ending - my discovery of how to get it out of my body, and the tale of my final adventure where I confronted my demons on video in my home town.  It is pretty wild.   I will also be updating my story in sequence for I am behind on that, and it would be nice for new readers to be able to read my tale in sequence.

After completion of the story, I will be filling in other People in the Hips events that occurred in my three years journey into physical/emotional/energetic madness.  More video (I have so much video) and also insights about ENERGY in the body, Yoga and energy, Mental illness and more.  I am still convinced that 90% of mental illness is an energy imbalance and that a huge percentage of mental illness can be cured through energy work.

Before my People in my Hips story began, I had no clue about energy and the body. I was a Personal Trainer, who practiced a little Yoga.  As I studied Yoga intensely in my Yoga Teacher Training, as you know, the energy exploded in my body and wild stuff happened.  Energy has mostly been viewed by Western medical professionals as not EXISTING.  It is time to explore energy and energy release and balancing.  It could transform our beliefs about what is possible to cure physical and mental disfunction.

"Nuff said."

So here goes:

THE FINAL WEEKS of THE PEOPLE IN MY HIPS leading toward a fateful conclusion MAY 16, 2010!!!

 

And then even more fun begins.

 

Thanks for reading!

Ken Wolf

typing at a Starbucks in Rye NY

April 30, 2010  7:07 a.m.

Posted on April 30, 2010 .

Insight # 10 - What evil lurks in the hips of Men?

On January 29, 2010 my hip blew out.   But it wasn't from the People in my Hips.  I overstretched my legs and then unexpectedly had to run out into the cold for an emergency at my theatre on 42nd St.  The next morning I awoke with nerve pain.  By 6 pm that night, I couldn't walk.

My sciatica tale is documented on these pages (Search by date and you will find my daily story) until I was able to get back to work after three weeks basically in Bed and then receiving a steroid injection in my spine.  

Getting back to work has been a challenge for my sciatica is still lingering.  Yes, now 8 weeks later, I can do most anything, except for run, or bike or stretch deeply like I used to, but I can function.  I now talk through my spin classes, and I have adapted my other classes to my injury.  I still have slight nerve pain, and my hip is still LOCKED UP, not so I can't function, just so that I don't work correctly.

I started Physical therapy this week, and the physical therapist I went to is well qualified, and personable, but honestly, does she have a clue as to what went on in my HIPS 4 years ago?  I mentioned my PEEPS tale, and I could tell she didn't understand.  I even referred her to these pages, and I could see in her eyes, she would never visit here.

I was given a prescription for therapy.  I was shown certain exercises that I was very familiar with, which I did, and then, I was given a xerox of my exercises that everyone with sciatica is given at this facility.  But why hasn't this prescription unlocked my hip yet?  What if what is going on with me is different?  Come on now, I had PEOPLE IN MY HIPS.

As the therapist was massaging into my hip area, I started to feel a little bit of the old trauma emotion.  Now this doesn't mean the People in my Hips are coming back. It just means that there is a little trauma energy there.  My injury is on my right side, the side I housed THE DARK MAN, the mack daddy evil piece of dung who hurt me when I was very young.  He's gone now, but there is still trauma there, hidden under the fascia and the muscles or in the fascia and the muscles, and maybe just maybe that little piece of trauma energy is what is keeping my hip locked up.

Maybe it is locked up in fear.  Not initially, for I was legitimately injured, but the fear of losing income, fear of losing my physicality and fear of The Peeps returning, maybe that is the fear, that is FREEZING my hip now.

Or maybe it is THE PEEPS.  

Maybe physical therapy is not working for I am working solely on the physical plain.  

Maybe I need to climb in now.  And FEEL IT.

Traditional thought says that there are two options when faced with DANGER: Fight or Flight.

But there is another option, which is never talked about which probably gets more mileage than the others.

That option is: TO FREEZE.

What do you do when you can't run, when you can't fight? YOU FREEZE.

When someone is faster, stronger and god damned fucking evil, what do you do?  YOU FREEZE.  Like a deer in the headlights of a Mack Truck.  Maybe this isn't happening.  If I don't move it won't happen.  Oh please God no!

Maybe I am not injured.  Maybe my universe is not crumbling around me.  Don't move. Don't move, Ken and it will go away.  -----------------  Is that what is working on me?... or is it the OLD STUFF?

 Maybe my hip is FROZEN in fear...

 

So it looks like my sciatica journey links up.  I could be wrong, but my gut tells me there is an emotional component here. I don't know what it is but it is time to find out.

If I need to revisit THE PEEPS so that I can have my body back, you bet I will, without a second thought.

..Well, maybe a second thought...

 

I will keep you posted.

Posted on April 4, 2010 .

The Tale # 58 - The Gym

One of the ways that I managed the People in my Hips was to go to the Gym, get on my "Stretch Machine" which was this tall, multi-handled THING, and hang upside down, sideways, etc. and etc.  As I STRETCHED, my body and head would shake like a jack hammer and I would pretend like it was normal.  My favorite stretch was hanging by my feet, with my hands on two bars below me, and then, arching my back to stretch into my famous hip flexors.  My head would always vibrate side to side at the speed of light.  It was so bizarre.

Other times, I would hang by my arms and slowly sit back on to my bended knees. This would hurt like hell, and of course, my head would vibrate.  From a distance, it looked like, I was tied and bound and someone was coming to get me, as I shook my head "NO."

As I write this now, I see what an interesting metaphor that is.  And Damn scary.  I can feel it now.  A little bit of the fear of THE DARK MAN.  It is far away and in the past, but that metaphor reminds me of that darkness.

It is one of the reasons I am writing this PEEPS blog in such detail.  By naming my experience, I empower myself.

By keeping it locked up, THE DARK MAN and my dark past own me.

 

Granted, I am not bouncing now. I am not communicating with abused boys locked up in my hips. I am doing really well.  But there are times like now, that I remember the little bit of fear, in the dark corner of my mind, that I would feel all the time for most of my life which I assigned to THE PRESENT MOMENT.  So in that time period, the past was adjusting my behavior.  Making me frightened of things that there was no reason to be frightened of.  It was just old stuff, that I thought lived in the present.

Everyday, if I stay out of my past, it is basically safe.  It is like that for most of us.  Life is mostly safe.

We need to trust it and cherish in the moments of joy and safety.  And not believe in the hypnotic trances of the past.

One day, when I was in the midst of the Peeps, I was at the Gym and I had just finished my jack hammer stretching and was walking back to the locker room.  As I was walking I thought to myself "Who the hell is that man, that man who hurt me in my past? Was it Dad?  Or someone else?

All of a sudden, I am flying four feet to my left and I slam into a wall, falling onto the floor.

"What the FUCK!"  

I lay on the floor, quietly vibrating.  

"Oh shit." 

My memory, my fear, literally, threw me into the wall, in that present moment.

THE PAST REARED IT'S ANGRY EVIL HAND, moved into the present, and moved me!  

"OH Fuck!"

I looked around.  No one really noticed.  Or if they did, they didn't come forward.

 

Here's the question:

If a man is thrown into a wall by a memory from the past, is he really thrown into a wall?

And if he really is thrown into a wall, is he thrown into the wall by the memory, (in my case -The Dark Man, my abuser,) or is he thrown into the wall by his reaction to a memory from the past?

And who is responsible for his reaction?

 

The answers to this, and other extremely heady metaphysical topics, will be explored in the blogs to come as things unfold...

 

Posted on March 30, 2010 .