One of the most profound moments of my life was seeing my father, nearing years old, drag chains across the courtroom floor. He was handcuffs, and his wrists were chained to his feet. Because he was so tall, he had to bend over to walk.
I'd seem him in bondage before... to systems, dreams, ideologies. This was getting literal and intense.
When he turned to see me, his eyes lit up. It was heartbreaking.
When he turned, I saw that there was a name written across his back, across the gray stripes.
S. BUDDEN.
I am Steven Budden Junior, by the way... Father's son by name and blood.
Carl Jung says that the quest for the father is one of the most important Hero's journeys. That's what we're doing now, I suppose.
He'd been arrested, for god knows what, and I'd driven out from California to see his court case and to have whatever impact I could.
So that was me. Even after all of my wake-up calls and self work, there I still was, in prison. [The Maricopa county jail, actually].
I was in my last few months of healing school in San Francisco and Pleasanton. No career as of yet. Healing, hopeful, alive, broke.
I felt like Henry Miller from his infamous Tropic of Cancer quote:
“I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive.”
Not all the time, of course. Sometimes. Tropic of Cancer is awakening experience in the guise of smut (as are many Sufi masterpieces).
My mother had been diagnosed with M.S. We thought that she was on her way out. Fortunately, by her own will and the grace of God, she came back to life.
It was a tenuous time.
Most people don't get to see this... their father, childhood hero, in chains. Many have throughout history.
'Do you like this?' he said, alluding to the outfit. 'I'll steal you one.'
It was all he could get out before the guard barked: 'No talking to the prisoners!'
I wasn't talking, I mumbled. I was listening. Fucking system.
So there we were. Father and son.
My father was 'not himself.' He'd earned his MBA just as the 2008 recession happened, and 'jobs were scarce'. So he stayed in the insurance field.
What you might classify as 'a series of unfortunate events' included a head injury, a wounded dog, a derailed trip to Alaska, a stolen Casita trailer, and a short sale of his historic home.
In any case, he was not 'himself' when I saw him. I was there to try to get him evaluated psychologically. He needed some sort of therapy or medication. Something was off... way off.
It's sort of a mystical thing when I say 'that was me.' However, it was also visceral, not merely philosophical. When I googled myself then, 'Steven Budden', what I saw was this series of mug shots: one pair, hopeful and defiant; the second pair, sad, grey-eyed, lost. So much older and thinner than the last time I'd seen him.
Even from looking me up just now, he's on far right of first row, high school graduation. The last remaining mug shot is third from left, second row.
Was that our familial karma being worked upon? Just as I was starting to see clients, marketing online, etc, when you Google my name, you get these mug shots. Same name, different person.
During the healing journey you may notice... suddenly that which is 'meaningless' to everyone else, takes on deep meaning to you. It's like reading the tea leaves. The stars that most people barely glance at anymore. Numbers. Signs. Sigils. We're of course programmed to think that it is all fraud and quacks. Most of us have at least a glimmer of another kind of experience.
When I visited him in the prison, it was via a video monitor in the visiting room. He was in a straight jacket, actually, in solitary, thinking of ways to escape.
Bipolar was the diagnosis. He was swinging in a high manic state, king of the world, even from wherever he was. In any case, king now of the prison block.
I couldn't connect with him in that moment: he couldn't quite make eye contact, or he didn't know where the camera was.
I'd done a Family Constellation, based on Bert Hellinger's work, to trace the trauma in that side of the family. Seemed to stem from the Russian Revolution, when a great grandfather lost everyone he loved. Had it made a difference?
It seems impossible, really, this slippery journey of personal evolution. We need to take great pains to elevate our trials and tribulations to something more: catalysts for a certain growth that is difficult to articulate, to measure, to nourish.
And yet, it's the most essential thing there is in life.
'Gather your riches in heaven,' while most people are counting coins.
Gurdjieff taught that we aren't born with a soul, necessarily: some people have them, some don't. Our job is to cultivate this soul, this immortal thing that continues beyond the pale of death. Otherwise we're doomed to what Nietzsche and Ouspensky refer to as 'eternal recurrence'.
So if you see a loved one in chains, and the one that bestowed many of your core beliefs to you... what do you do with that?
I was in a holistic healing school, so 'holistic' that it bordered on metaphysical, with a shaman-ness and some eccentric master coaches: I had an unfair advantage. They were relentless in their pursuit of the light in me, especially during this dark time. I owe them so much.
And that's why I do what I do now, for others.
I questioned every thought, uprooted every pattern, saw differently, walked differently, spoke differently. When someone asked me my story, I told a different one that I'd been familiar with. I marveled sometimes at what came out of my mouth. And most astoundingly, this story... It wasn't less true... it was more true. It was just the frame of reference had changed.
Life blooms, even in darkness. Especially in darkness.
'Darkness within darkness. The gateway to all understanding.' Tao Te Ching.
It's the greatest paradox. It's the darkness that the ancient schools tried to 're-create' in their initiation ceremonies. You need to 'believe', if even for a moment, that all hope is lost. And there you find the greatest surge of life: the spring bud that pushes through the frozen ground of a long winter.
You don't need to chase the light; it is chasing you. You just need to open the right pair of eyes.
Love and rapture,
Steven Budden Jr. | Technician of Ecstasy + Existential Detective @ Budden
PS. I help leaders heal their life so they can deepen their impact and leave a lasting legacy. Apply here if that's you.