A.R. Kahler's Blog, page 9
May 31, 2012
Travelogue : Goodbye Glasgow
Hey loves,
This is gonna be short and sweet because my taxi's here in six hours and, oh yeah, I need to sleep within that time period.
I gave myself three full days to catch up on things before heading out and--surprise--that didn't really happen. I got all the important things done--said hello/goodbye to most people, packed all my stuff. But of course, there are loose ends.
Long story short, tomorrow I fly to Norway. That's pretty much all I know right now. Our friendly circus family is picking up my travel-companion Adam and I from the train station. We'll then be given a tour of the 'circus village.' And the next day we'll be traveling around promoting the event. If you have costumes, bring them! ...we'll just settle for a mask and the 'Circus Freak' shirts I designed. I can't imagine Swarovski would travel well.
And yeah. That's honestly the last definite plan I have.
One way ticket to Norway.
17 days of scheduled volunteering to provide room and board.
[...to be determined...]
Back to Glasgow by July 21st.
Oh yes, world. Let's go exploring.
This is gonna be short and sweet because my taxi's here in six hours and, oh yeah, I need to sleep within that time period.
I gave myself three full days to catch up on things before heading out and--surprise--that didn't really happen. I got all the important things done--said hello/goodbye to most people, packed all my stuff. But of course, there are loose ends.
Long story short, tomorrow I fly to Norway. That's pretty much all I know right now. Our friendly circus family is picking up my travel-companion Adam and I from the train station. We'll then be given a tour of the 'circus village.' And the next day we'll be traveling around promoting the event. If you have costumes, bring them! ...we'll just settle for a mask and the 'Circus Freak' shirts I designed. I can't imagine Swarovski would travel well.
And yeah. That's honestly the last definite plan I have.
One way ticket to Norway.
17 days of scheduled volunteering to provide room and board.
[...to be determined...]
Back to Glasgow by July 21st.
Oh yes, world. Let's go exploring.
May 22, 2012
Travelogue : Lendrick Lodge 2
Or, How to Heal
For the past few weeks I've been living in another world. I return to reality (aka the internet, Glasgow, etc) and find myself at a complete loss for words. How do I tell my family just how profound and simple volunteering at a holistic retreat has been? How could I possibly capture the weeks spent with healers and therapists and soul-oriented people? I suppose it's time to tell you the truth about me. No fronts, no funny quips. Just me.
Before I begin, I want you to know one thing: I am a skeptic.
When someone says "I can feel energy" I struggle to keep my eyebrows level. When someone says "This will heal you" I try not to counter with we'll just see about that. I'm a "try before you buy" sort of guy. Period.
Another thing.
For the past two years, I have been horribly depressed.
I've hid it fairly well from the majority of the people. Save for occasional breakdowns, I managed. I did what I thought I should do: I took my mind off it by immersing myself in work. In Massachusetts I waited tables and tried to launch an artist studio and trained with a circus group and assisted authors and tried to write.
In Scotland I wrote. A lot. I trained/taught. A lot. When I met with friends, I talked about writing or training or the terror of the future. I woke up and got on the computer and checked email and wrote and then I went to work and then I came home and checked email and tried to tell myself I was okay.
I was not--
by any stretch of the imagination--
okay.
Because none of that hard work was paying off. Studios failed. Jobs closed. Writing sucked away at my soul.
I told myself I needed to work harder. I added more pressure. If you get published it will all be better. You'll have money and a path and a purpose and all this hard work will pay off but damn it, Alex, none of that will happen if you don't push yourself past breaking.
And when things kept falling apart, I crumbled to insane amounts of personal pressure.
I wasn't just hitting a brick wall. I was closed in on all sides, and they were caving fast.
Another thing:
I barely registered this.
I've always worked in high-stress states. It started early on in school and it hasn't left. If I don't have a deadline, I make one. If I don't have work, I make it. The motto growing up was 'work, then play.' I just kept leaving out the last bit. Besides, my main job was teaching circus! I laughed! I had a blast! That was surely balancing out the intensity of writing. Right?
For the past two weeks, I've woken up with a stream outside one window and a mountain outside the other. I go into the kitchen and make a cup of tea. Then I work for eight hours. I clean rooms, make beds. When courses are running I work in the kitchen and chop vegetables. At first, I hated the work. I was a writer! A circus artist! I wasn't schooled to make beds and hoover hallways. I should be creating and making and pushing myself and...
you get the picture.
Over time, things changed. I started opening up to the people I was working with. I stopped viewing the work as a chore and saw it as an opportunity. I stopped trying to drown out the time spent cleaning bathrooms with music and just listened to the birds outside. I went for walks through the woods, up the mountain, to lochs. Just being in that environment--a place in the wilds entirely dedicated to healing everyone who walked through the doors--was powerful. But there was more.
There was reflexology, massage exchanges. There was a Reiki session that completely blew my mind. There were talks over meals and tea about everything from sex to Buddha to emotional response patterns and nutrition. Through it all, I started to feel.
The fears and expectations stopped meaning anything. The anger I felt toward people, the judgments I had, all started to vanish when I stopped pitting myself against them and realized we were all there for the same purpose: to help heal others and ourselves.
Now, I'm not there yet. Just being back in the city (and back in my flat with wifi) makes the old habits peek their heads in. Productive much today? Written anything good? I still panic about the future.
But I'm getting there. I'm making space.
And if anything, that's what I'd like you to do.
Your work is important. Really, it is. But it's not that important.
You're going to die some day. Make friends with that thought. There are so many cliche phrases that have lost meaning so I won't use them. Because they didn't work for me. I had to experience it firsthand.
Your path will be different from mine. That's clear. You might find peace volunteering for people or animals. But it's a powerful thing to get out of 'me me me' and help other people heal themselves. Especially when you're able to make that same commitment to yourself.
You deserve it. Really, you do. You deserve it so much that there's no excuse: you can make the time. You don't need any money. You don't have to be or do anything except, well, breathe.
So I ask you: what can you do to create space in your life? What are opportunities to volunteer and help both yourself and the community? How can you get out into nature and just be a body that breathes and bleeds like the rest?
Find it. Follow it.
You're worth the effort.
More next week.
For the past few weeks I've been living in another world. I return to reality (aka the internet, Glasgow, etc) and find myself at a complete loss for words. How do I tell my family just how profound and simple volunteering at a holistic retreat has been? How could I possibly capture the weeks spent with healers and therapists and soul-oriented people? I suppose it's time to tell you the truth about me. No fronts, no funny quips. Just me.
Before I begin, I want you to know one thing: I am a skeptic.
When someone says "I can feel energy" I struggle to keep my eyebrows level. When someone says "This will heal you" I try not to counter with we'll just see about that. I'm a "try before you buy" sort of guy. Period.
Another thing.
For the past two years, I have been horribly depressed.
I've hid it fairly well from the majority of the people. Save for occasional breakdowns, I managed. I did what I thought I should do: I took my mind off it by immersing myself in work. In Massachusetts I waited tables and tried to launch an artist studio and trained with a circus group and assisted authors and tried to write.
In Scotland I wrote. A lot. I trained/taught. A lot. When I met with friends, I talked about writing or training or the terror of the future. I woke up and got on the computer and checked email and wrote and then I went to work and then I came home and checked email and tried to tell myself I was okay.
I was not--
by any stretch of the imagination--
okay.
Because none of that hard work was paying off. Studios failed. Jobs closed. Writing sucked away at my soul.
I told myself I needed to work harder. I added more pressure. If you get published it will all be better. You'll have money and a path and a purpose and all this hard work will pay off but damn it, Alex, none of that will happen if you don't push yourself past breaking.
And when things kept falling apart, I crumbled to insane amounts of personal pressure.
I wasn't just hitting a brick wall. I was closed in on all sides, and they were caving fast.
Another thing:
I barely registered this.
I've always worked in high-stress states. It started early on in school and it hasn't left. If I don't have a deadline, I make one. If I don't have work, I make it. The motto growing up was 'work, then play.' I just kept leaving out the last bit. Besides, my main job was teaching circus! I laughed! I had a blast! That was surely balancing out the intensity of writing. Right?
For the past two weeks, I've woken up with a stream outside one window and a mountain outside the other. I go into the kitchen and make a cup of tea. Then I work for eight hours. I clean rooms, make beds. When courses are running I work in the kitchen and chop vegetables. At first, I hated the work. I was a writer! A circus artist! I wasn't schooled to make beds and hoover hallways. I should be creating and making and pushing myself and...
you get the picture.
Over time, things changed. I started opening up to the people I was working with. I stopped viewing the work as a chore and saw it as an opportunity. I stopped trying to drown out the time spent cleaning bathrooms with music and just listened to the birds outside. I went for walks through the woods, up the mountain, to lochs. Just being in that environment--a place in the wilds entirely dedicated to healing everyone who walked through the doors--was powerful. But there was more.
There was reflexology, massage exchanges. There was a Reiki session that completely blew my mind. There were talks over meals and tea about everything from sex to Buddha to emotional response patterns and nutrition. Through it all, I started to feel.
The fears and expectations stopped meaning anything. The anger I felt toward people, the judgments I had, all started to vanish when I stopped pitting myself against them and realized we were all there for the same purpose: to help heal others and ourselves.
Now, I'm not there yet. Just being back in the city (and back in my flat with wifi) makes the old habits peek their heads in. Productive much today? Written anything good? I still panic about the future.
But I'm getting there. I'm making space.
And if anything, that's what I'd like you to do.
Your work is important. Really, it is. But it's not that important.
You're going to die some day. Make friends with that thought. There are so many cliche phrases that have lost meaning so I won't use them. Because they didn't work for me. I had to experience it firsthand.
Your path will be different from mine. That's clear. You might find peace volunteering for people or animals. But it's a powerful thing to get out of 'me me me' and help other people heal themselves. Especially when you're able to make that same commitment to yourself.
You deserve it. Really, you do. You deserve it so much that there's no excuse: you can make the time. You don't need any money. You don't have to be or do anything except, well, breathe.
So I ask you: what can you do to create space in your life? What are opportunities to volunteer and help both yourself and the community? How can you get out into nature and just be a body that breathes and bleeds like the rest?
Find it. Follow it.
You're worth the effort.
More next week.
May 16, 2012
Travelogue : Lendrick Lodge 1
Another short post.
For the past week I've been volunteering at a holistic retreat in the heart of the Trossachs. The place is beautiful: surrounded by trees and hills and moorland and streams. Stunning.
The work has been calming, the people loving. I've much to share after all this is over, but I've little time and much to do before I head back to work. Expect more very soon.
Needless to say, being surrounded by nature and getting out of my head and into the present moment has been a revitalizing experience.
If you are looking for a change in your life, or a few days to 'get away,' I highly recommend seeking out volunteer work at local retreats. It's fulfilling in an entirely necessary way.
For pictures, click here.
For the past week I've been volunteering at a holistic retreat in the heart of the Trossachs. The place is beautiful: surrounded by trees and hills and moorland and streams. Stunning.
The work has been calming, the people loving. I've much to share after all this is over, but I've little time and much to do before I head back to work. Expect more very soon.
Needless to say, being surrounded by nature and getting out of my head and into the present moment has been a revitalizing experience.
If you are looking for a change in your life, or a few days to 'get away,' I highly recommend seeking out volunteer work at local retreats. It's fulfilling in an entirely necessary way.
For pictures, click here.
Travelogue : Glamsterdam
Hello loves,
I have half an hour of wifi to update you on the past few weeks of travel adventures, so allow me to be brief and stick to sharing through photos (link at the end).
The trip was fantastic. Four days of aerial, good food/coffee, beautiful scenery. It was my first time in mainland Europe, and it definitely fueled my desire to travel even more. We wandered through the park, the Red Light District, had a show and photoshoots and generally behaved like rockstars. Even our hostel was perfect--private rooms and a breakfast buffet and a view on the park.
I hadn't expected much of Amsterdam, I'll be honest. I only expected seedy alleyways and prostitutes. And yet, even the notorious Red Light district was beautiful and clean. Our practice space was an old cinema school turned squat turned art space, complete with gorgeous graffiti and its own restaurant bar. What was more, Amsterdam seemed full of the health-conscious. Everyone rode bicycles, the food was locally sourced or organic or homemade, and people were going for runs at every hour of the day. Even while there on an aerial bootcamp, I felt the desire to fit in and be healthier.
I think one of the reasons the place seemed so clean and safe was the fact that so much is legal there. Crime is low, vandalism and theft seem practically non existent. It's almost like the legalization of so much allows people to blow off steam safely and continue on with their daily lives in a wholesome way.
It gave me a lot to think about and a lot to look forward to going back to. But I'll let you look at the pics and see for yourself.
I have half an hour of wifi to update you on the past few weeks of travel adventures, so allow me to be brief and stick to sharing through photos (link at the end).
The trip was fantastic. Four days of aerial, good food/coffee, beautiful scenery. It was my first time in mainland Europe, and it definitely fueled my desire to travel even more. We wandered through the park, the Red Light District, had a show and photoshoots and generally behaved like rockstars. Even our hostel was perfect--private rooms and a breakfast buffet and a view on the park.
I hadn't expected much of Amsterdam, I'll be honest. I only expected seedy alleyways and prostitutes. And yet, even the notorious Red Light district was beautiful and clean. Our practice space was an old cinema school turned squat turned art space, complete with gorgeous graffiti and its own restaurant bar. What was more, Amsterdam seemed full of the health-conscious. Everyone rode bicycles, the food was locally sourced or organic or homemade, and people were going for runs at every hour of the day. Even while there on an aerial bootcamp, I felt the desire to fit in and be healthier.
I think one of the reasons the place seemed so clean and safe was the fact that so much is legal there. Crime is low, vandalism and theft seem practically non existent. It's almost like the legalization of so much allows people to blow off steam safely and continue on with their daily lives in a wholesome way.
It gave me a lot to think about and a lot to look forward to going back to. But I'll let you look at the pics and see for yourself.
April 26, 2012
Beauty Heals 2 : Jump
I suppose I should start with this: things are happening. Things I hadn't expected, hadn't dreamed of. The moment I decided to step out the door, my life began to change.
Now, this isn't to say that things are making any more sense. I still have no clue 'what happens next.' All I know is, in a week I fly to Amsterdam to teach circus arts. The next week I head to a holistic retreat up north to volunteer. And the first of June, I fly to Norway to volunteer/teach/train at a sort of circus gathering. After that? I have no clue. I might travel down through Europe, over to Nepal, then back to Wales/England. Iceland. Maybe not. All I know is, I'm bringing you with me.
The very thought fills me with butterflies. How do I plan for a trip that has no real shape?So much of this trip (Scotland and the upcoming journey) has been about battling expectations. Giving up control.
Leaping.
like jumping in this bouncy replica of Stonehenge
I try to make decisions like this: what is the biggest risk?
Once I figure that out, I take the risk.
Obviously, in a (moderately) sane way. I don't go down the darkest alleys or drive blindfolded. Instead, I look at my options and decide which will take me furthest out of my comfort zone. What will shake up my life the most? And then--as much as that small, sane voice in me hates it--I take the option with the least security and the most potential.
It doesn't work for everyone, and it definitely doesn't work for every situation. But for all those times when everything seems monotonous and life is one big rut, it's the best way to shake things up. It's the most surefire way to learn more about your world and how you fit (or want to fit) into it.
So, what are the ways your life has grown stale? What are the ways you could shake it up and enter new, exciting territory?Even taking a different street in your current locale can lead to new exciting things...
a fountain near Glasgow Green
according to legend, this birch tree was cursed--thus the odd shape.
one of many houses on the Pollok estate
giant. fuzzy. highland coos!
That said, there's one very important aspect of every outward journey:
coming back and reflecting.
And the best way to do that?
tea.
Now, this isn't to say that things are making any more sense. I still have no clue 'what happens next.' All I know is, in a week I fly to Amsterdam to teach circus arts. The next week I head to a holistic retreat up north to volunteer. And the first of June, I fly to Norway to volunteer/teach/train at a sort of circus gathering. After that? I have no clue. I might travel down through Europe, over to Nepal, then back to Wales/England. Iceland. Maybe not. All I know is, I'm bringing you with me.
The very thought fills me with butterflies. How do I plan for a trip that has no real shape?So much of this trip (Scotland and the upcoming journey) has been about battling expectations. Giving up control.
Leaping.
like jumping in this bouncy replica of StonehengeI try to make decisions like this: what is the biggest risk?
Once I figure that out, I take the risk.
Obviously, in a (moderately) sane way. I don't go down the darkest alleys or drive blindfolded. Instead, I look at my options and decide which will take me furthest out of my comfort zone. What will shake up my life the most? And then--as much as that small, sane voice in me hates it--I take the option with the least security and the most potential.
It doesn't work for everyone, and it definitely doesn't work for every situation. But for all those times when everything seems monotonous and life is one big rut, it's the best way to shake things up. It's the most surefire way to learn more about your world and how you fit (or want to fit) into it.
So, what are the ways your life has grown stale? What are the ways you could shake it up and enter new, exciting territory?Even taking a different street in your current locale can lead to new exciting things...
a fountain near Glasgow Green
according to legend, this birch tree was cursed--thus the odd shape.
one of many houses on the Pollok estate
giant. fuzzy. highland coos!That said, there's one very important aspect of every outward journey:
coming back and reflecting.
And the best way to do that?
tea.
April 21, 2012
Beauty Heals 1 : Expectations
Hello loves, welcome to the first true entry in the Beauty Heals project.
Let's begin with a metaphor.
Yesterday morning, a panel in my ceiling fell down.
It began with a drip, then a drizzle. Then a flood as a wave of dirty water splashed to the floor, bringing with it a chunk of paneling that resembled wet clay the moment it hit the ground.
The entire thing shook me, not because of the physical action of a falling ceiling, but for the meaning my brain was applying to it. It became a symbol. It gained power.
When I returned to Scotland last September, I came bearing hundreds of expectations.
Since that time, every single expectation has been shattered.
I'm not being melodramatic: nothing that I had hoped to happen has happened. I didn't fall in love. I didn't get published (yet). I didn't find a way to stay longer (and immediately after being attacked, my desire to stay faded). I didn't develop the amazing social/nightlife I'd envisioned. Instead, I worked. A lot. I wrote for hours every day, taught 6 days a week, and had mounds of homework. And for the amount I worked, I didn't seem to get much in return. I got by. Barely. I saw friends at work and a couple times during the week. I was busy in many ways, and in many ways I was happy. But so much of my life was sunk into trying to get ahead while trying to get by, I didn't have the ability to just...be. No matter what, something just wasn't syncing up. What I wanted was so close and yet so far from what I was able to achieve, and every day was another added drop I couldn't release.
Now, I don't want to burst like my ceiling. I don't want to hold on to all these expectations, all these inane things that make me feel less than human. My life is more than my work/writing/productivity/success/fame/WHATEVER. My world is bigger than the walls of this flat and the confines of this screen.
I am more than this.
You are more than this.
We all have expectations that we have not met and cannot let go of--and these are holding us back.
So today, on the first leg of this journey, I invite you to look at all your past and current 'failures,' the things that make you sad rather than give you strength to move forward and push through.
What are they? How can you begin letting them go?
In what way would you like to heal?
As you ponder, I'll leave you with a song from the artist I watched last night. He is amazing, and the lyrics are more than appropriate.
Beauty is everywhere.
Let's find it.
Let's begin with a metaphor.
Yesterday morning, a panel in my ceiling fell down.
It began with a drip, then a drizzle. Then a flood as a wave of dirty water splashed to the floor, bringing with it a chunk of paneling that resembled wet clay the moment it hit the ground.
The entire thing shook me, not because of the physical action of a falling ceiling, but for the meaning my brain was applying to it. It became a symbol. It gained power.
When I returned to Scotland last September, I came bearing hundreds of expectations.
Since that time, every single expectation has been shattered.
I'm not being melodramatic: nothing that I had hoped to happen has happened. I didn't fall in love. I didn't get published (yet). I didn't find a way to stay longer (and immediately after being attacked, my desire to stay faded). I didn't develop the amazing social/nightlife I'd envisioned. Instead, I worked. A lot. I wrote for hours every day, taught 6 days a week, and had mounds of homework. And for the amount I worked, I didn't seem to get much in return. I got by. Barely. I saw friends at work and a couple times during the week. I was busy in many ways, and in many ways I was happy. But so much of my life was sunk into trying to get ahead while trying to get by, I didn't have the ability to just...be. No matter what, something just wasn't syncing up. What I wanted was so close and yet so far from what I was able to achieve, and every day was another added drop I couldn't release.
Now, I don't want to burst like my ceiling. I don't want to hold on to all these expectations, all these inane things that make me feel less than human. My life is more than my work/writing/productivity/success/fame/WHATEVER. My world is bigger than the walls of this flat and the confines of this screen.
I am more than this.
You are more than this.
We all have expectations that we have not met and cannot let go of--and these are holding us back.
So today, on the first leg of this journey, I invite you to look at all your past and current 'failures,' the things that make you sad rather than give you strength to move forward and push through.
What are they? How can you begin letting them go?
In what way would you like to heal?
As you ponder, I'll leave you with a song from the artist I watched last night. He is amazing, and the lyrics are more than appropriate.
Beauty is everywhere.
Let's find it.
April 13, 2012
The 'Beauty Heals' Project
Hello loves,
As I mentioned in my latest YA Rebels video, I have a new project. If you haven't seen the vid, allow me to plug...
At the moment, there's not much more to report than what's in the vid. I don't have any travel plans confirmed though there are multiple rods in the fire. I don't know where I'll be or for how long or what I'll be doing. All I know is, this summer I'm going on a journey. And I'll be sharing every step I can--the good, the bad, and the beautiful--on here and through Youtube, twitter, tumblr, etc.
Because all good journeys are meant to be shared.
Stay tuned.
As I mentioned in my latest YA Rebels video, I have a new project. If you haven't seen the vid, allow me to plug...
At the moment, there's not much more to report than what's in the vid. I don't have any travel plans confirmed though there are multiple rods in the fire. I don't know where I'll be or for how long or what I'll be doing. All I know is, this summer I'm going on a journey. And I'll be sharing every step I can--the good, the bad, and the beautiful--on here and through Youtube, twitter, tumblr, etc.
Because all good journeys are meant to be shared.
Stay tuned.
April 2, 2012
Seven Days of Summer
Hello loves,
It's been a month since I've last updated, so allow me a quick rap across the knuckles for that.
It's been a busy few weeks. My second and final term of classes is officially over. I've practiced and performed for a whirlwind gig up at a beautiful hotel. I've finished the first draft (and am nearly done with the second draft) of Cirque des Immortels.
Better yet, the past week or so has been filled with sunshine and unseasonably warm temperatures which, being in Scotland, I'm trying to view as a good thing rather than proof we're melting ourselves.
And since it's supposed to snow tomorrow, I figure I should share these days of sunshine before they're a memory:
In other news, my mom and family friend are visiting this week! And two weeks after, my dad's going to be here. Expect many more pictures then. :)
Also...something new and lifechanging is bubbling in the back of my mind. It's still coalescing into something tangible, but expect a new project on the near horizon. Something bigger than words and images combined, yet both of those at the same time. The only spoiler I'm willing to give right now is....
Beauty Heals.
It's been a month since I've last updated, so allow me a quick rap across the knuckles for that.
It's been a busy few weeks. My second and final term of classes is officially over. I've practiced and performed for a whirlwind gig up at a beautiful hotel. I've finished the first draft (and am nearly done with the second draft) of Cirque des Immortels.
Better yet, the past week or so has been filled with sunshine and unseasonably warm temperatures which, being in Scotland, I'm trying to view as a good thing rather than proof we're melting ourselves.
And since it's supposed to snow tomorrow, I figure I should share these days of sunshine before they're a memory:
In other news, my mom and family friend are visiting this week! And two weeks after, my dad's going to be here. Expect many more pictures then. :)
Also...something new and lifechanging is bubbling in the back of my mind. It's still coalescing into something tangible, but expect a new project on the near horizon. Something bigger than words and images combined, yet both of those at the same time. The only spoiler I'm willing to give right now is....
Beauty Heals.
March 10, 2012
An account of being physically assaulted and mugged...
...or, my indoctrination into Glasgow.
When I first visited Glasgow a few years ago, a friend of mine said that you hadn't really lived here if you hadn't been mugged, raped, or stabbed. It was a joking phrase but one that's stuck with me; Glasgow has a bad rep. But I always thought that if you stuck to the right bubble of culture, you'd be fine. After all, those nasty things happened to other people, and I wasn't an other person, I was me.
As usual, Life decided to prove me wrong.
So what happened?
First off, I live in a nice little cul de sac of families. Trouble is, it straddles the line between a nice side of Glasgow, and a shady side. Since it's secluded, it's always felt relatively safe.
At 10pm last night, while walking home from a very nice (and now ironic) chat about prolonging my time in Glasgow, I was jumped by two guys less than a block from my flat. It was a rather typical situation: both guys were neds, both in tracksuits, and they were demanding my phone after they had me on the ground. Instead of just taking the phone, they kicked and punched me, then grabbed my bookbag (filled with dirty gym clothes) and dragged me halfway across the road until I was able to free myself. They took the bag and left me with a bloody nose, my phone, and my wallet.
What did you do?
I got home and immediately grabbed a rag to stop my nosebleed--it looked horrible. I was covered in my own blood and figured that was the first thing to clean up. I mentally debated calling the cops--after all, nothing important was stolen, and what could the cops really do?--then I picked up the phone and dialed the emergency number. They kept me on the line and made sure I was okay as they sent a car over. I figured they'd give me the once-over, say 'tough luck, kid,' and leave. Instead, when they arrived they told me the suspects (three of them, as there'd been a girl on the sidelines watching) had been located next to the 'locus' (which is such a badass word) and in custody. They had me change my clothes so they could run forensics, then took me to the police station.
How were you treated?
I'll admit, I have never had the best view of cops. I've had fairly negative experiences before, so I didn't know what to expect. I'm from a small town and have always lived in rural, hippy areas: I've never known someone who was attacked/mugged, and had no clue what was going to happen.
And this is where the night was salvaged.
I have to send a huge thanks to the Strathclyde Police Force. I was kept in the station until 3am (five hours) because they needed statements and for me to identify the suspects, and every moment of my time there was spent sharing stories and jokes and secrets about the city. If not for the fact I was there because, well, I'd been attacked and mugged, I'd actually say I enjoyed the banter.
When they took me back home, the driver got a note of panic in his voice and said, "buckle up, there's a situation and we need to respond." My main thought was, oh shit, I have to pee as we raced down the roads at fantastically fast speeds...only to end up at my drive.
"You have to love doing that," I said as I got out of the car.
It's one of the perks.
So...now what?
In terms of injuries, I got off light. A few scrapes and bruises, a bust lip. Some torn and bloodied clothing. My glasses are irreparable and I'll need a new bag.
The guys that did this are in custody and will be facing a criminal trial for assault and robbery. Even though their home base is close to mine, I've been reassured I'll never see them again. And, if I'm ever in any trouble or worried, I have a direct line to the local police. I say my name and they'll be on the scene immediately, no questions asked.
Are you scared?
I want to say I'm not. But I also don't like lying. I forced myself out of my house today (with a friend) to visit the supermarket. I passed the spot I'd been attacked and felt my breathing go a little funny. And I will admit, everyone I passed, every person who looked at me, registered as a threat on my inner radar. (Having blue hair means I get looks. Not a good combination with mild PTSD. I may change it or take to wearing a hat in this end of town.) It will take a few days, but I know this will pass. Am I going to take self-defense lessons? Maybe. Do I feel like a victim? No.
Bad things happen all the time. The strange thing is, you never expect it to be you. I remember thinking, while on the ground and being pummeled, not oh shit, oh shit, this is bad, but wait, really? this is actually happening? It's absolutely surreal. And it will never be something that seems like it could be a part of your life, until it happens to you.
What's going through your head?
So many things. I've been silent on this blog for the last month because I haven't known what to say. I've been homesick and nostalgic and overly confused about what's going on. I've loved and hated the city, the country, my program, everything. But this seemed like a wake up call.
I've been considering traveling for ages, now. After this, I know it's going to happen. I'm going to be backpacking across Europe for the later summer months and catching up with old friends. I'm going to be volunteering at holistic retreats and maybe working in a hotel or two in the Highlands. I'm getting out of the city and into nature, because that's where I feel most at home.
And after this, although I can't say for certain, I'm probably going to head back to America. I want to find an artsy little country community on the West Coast and settle in. This helped remove my rose-colored glasses.
Glasgow is a rough city, and if I can like it here, the chances of me loving another--safer/cleaner--city are quite good. Especially if I can live on the outskirts in a nice little cabin nestled in the woods.
As for my thoughts on the event itself...I actually feel really bad for the guys who did this. They lived in shitty housing, probably from horrible families. They wanted my phone, which was a free pay-as-you go number from the Stoneage. The police said they were known quite well for being reckless nuisances. Their joy came from jumping strangers on the street. Now they're in jail for serious criminal charges and are looking at a couple years in prison. What hope can they have for a happy life after that?
I plan on forging ahead. I was getting calls and texts from friends all through the night, sharing their love and support, and the kind thoughts keep coming my way. I am blessed beyond measure to have such a support system in times of need. It only further enforced the idea that no matter what
no matter where
you're never really on your own.
When I first visited Glasgow a few years ago, a friend of mine said that you hadn't really lived here if you hadn't been mugged, raped, or stabbed. It was a joking phrase but one that's stuck with me; Glasgow has a bad rep. But I always thought that if you stuck to the right bubble of culture, you'd be fine. After all, those nasty things happened to other people, and I wasn't an other person, I was me.
As usual, Life decided to prove me wrong.
So what happened?
First off, I live in a nice little cul de sac of families. Trouble is, it straddles the line between a nice side of Glasgow, and a shady side. Since it's secluded, it's always felt relatively safe.
At 10pm last night, while walking home from a very nice (and now ironic) chat about prolonging my time in Glasgow, I was jumped by two guys less than a block from my flat. It was a rather typical situation: both guys were neds, both in tracksuits, and they were demanding my phone after they had me on the ground. Instead of just taking the phone, they kicked and punched me, then grabbed my bookbag (filled with dirty gym clothes) and dragged me halfway across the road until I was able to free myself. They took the bag and left me with a bloody nose, my phone, and my wallet.
What did you do?
I got home and immediately grabbed a rag to stop my nosebleed--it looked horrible. I was covered in my own blood and figured that was the first thing to clean up. I mentally debated calling the cops--after all, nothing important was stolen, and what could the cops really do?--then I picked up the phone and dialed the emergency number. They kept me on the line and made sure I was okay as they sent a car over. I figured they'd give me the once-over, say 'tough luck, kid,' and leave. Instead, when they arrived they told me the suspects (three of them, as there'd been a girl on the sidelines watching) had been located next to the 'locus' (which is such a badass word) and in custody. They had me change my clothes so they could run forensics, then took me to the police station.
How were you treated?
I'll admit, I have never had the best view of cops. I've had fairly negative experiences before, so I didn't know what to expect. I'm from a small town and have always lived in rural, hippy areas: I've never known someone who was attacked/mugged, and had no clue what was going to happen.
And this is where the night was salvaged.
I have to send a huge thanks to the Strathclyde Police Force. I was kept in the station until 3am (five hours) because they needed statements and for me to identify the suspects, and every moment of my time there was spent sharing stories and jokes and secrets about the city. If not for the fact I was there because, well, I'd been attacked and mugged, I'd actually say I enjoyed the banter.
When they took me back home, the driver got a note of panic in his voice and said, "buckle up, there's a situation and we need to respond." My main thought was, oh shit, I have to pee as we raced down the roads at fantastically fast speeds...only to end up at my drive.
"You have to love doing that," I said as I got out of the car.
It's one of the perks.
So...now what?
In terms of injuries, I got off light. A few scrapes and bruises, a bust lip. Some torn and bloodied clothing. My glasses are irreparable and I'll need a new bag.
The guys that did this are in custody and will be facing a criminal trial for assault and robbery. Even though their home base is close to mine, I've been reassured I'll never see them again. And, if I'm ever in any trouble or worried, I have a direct line to the local police. I say my name and they'll be on the scene immediately, no questions asked.
Are you scared?
I want to say I'm not. But I also don't like lying. I forced myself out of my house today (with a friend) to visit the supermarket. I passed the spot I'd been attacked and felt my breathing go a little funny. And I will admit, everyone I passed, every person who looked at me, registered as a threat on my inner radar. (Having blue hair means I get looks. Not a good combination with mild PTSD. I may change it or take to wearing a hat in this end of town.) It will take a few days, but I know this will pass. Am I going to take self-defense lessons? Maybe. Do I feel like a victim? No.
Bad things happen all the time. The strange thing is, you never expect it to be you. I remember thinking, while on the ground and being pummeled, not oh shit, oh shit, this is bad, but wait, really? this is actually happening? It's absolutely surreal. And it will never be something that seems like it could be a part of your life, until it happens to you.
What's going through your head?
So many things. I've been silent on this blog for the last month because I haven't known what to say. I've been homesick and nostalgic and overly confused about what's going on. I've loved and hated the city, the country, my program, everything. But this seemed like a wake up call.
I've been considering traveling for ages, now. After this, I know it's going to happen. I'm going to be backpacking across Europe for the later summer months and catching up with old friends. I'm going to be volunteering at holistic retreats and maybe working in a hotel or two in the Highlands. I'm getting out of the city and into nature, because that's where I feel most at home.
And after this, although I can't say for certain, I'm probably going to head back to America. I want to find an artsy little country community on the West Coast and settle in. This helped remove my rose-colored glasses.
Glasgow is a rough city, and if I can like it here, the chances of me loving another--safer/cleaner--city are quite good. Especially if I can live on the outskirts in a nice little cabin nestled in the woods.
As for my thoughts on the event itself...I actually feel really bad for the guys who did this. They lived in shitty housing, probably from horrible families. They wanted my phone, which was a free pay-as-you go number from the Stoneage. The police said they were known quite well for being reckless nuisances. Their joy came from jumping strangers on the street. Now they're in jail for serious criminal charges and are looking at a couple years in prison. What hope can they have for a happy life after that?
I plan on forging ahead. I was getting calls and texts from friends all through the night, sharing their love and support, and the kind thoughts keep coming my way. I am blessed beyond measure to have such a support system in times of need. It only further enforced the idea that no matter what
no matter where
you're never really on your own.
February 7, 2012
Fighting Fierce and Waiting
After a good week and a half of fighting on the losing side of a cold, I think (think) I've finally come out the other end. I'm not used to taking time to 'rest' and 'recover,' so yesterday, when I nearly passed out trying to walk to class, I took the hint and retreated to my den, where I made soup and generally stared at the walls because concentrating hurt.
I eventually settled on watching the Fantastic Four.
There's a reason behind my manic work ethic.I am a Water-based personality, with bits of Fire thrown in. What this means is, I don't give up. If something blocks my path, I'll either burn it down or go around it. Simple. So when my life feels like it does now, I start to panic. I set small fires to watch them burn, start new projects and spread myself thin in hopes of finding new ground. Because right now, life is waiting.
I can feel it, though, the Next Big Thing. It's not here yet, and I don't know when it will arrive, but I keep thinking of something my professor said a few weeks back, when I was in the pub and moaning about being unpublished.
"But, you have to take some comfort in knowing that you will be published."
There was an assurance in the way he said it, like it was just a matter of fact.And that's why I don't settle. Because maybe breaking into the market with an epic gay fantasy series is as difficult as everyone says it is. Maybe the Next Big Thing is sitting unfinished on my harddrive, or percolating in the back of my brain. Whatever the case, I'm not stopping until I get there.
I might have to keep waiting for that moment to arrive, but you damn well better believe I'll be fighting tooth and claw to get there, stat.
I eventually settled on watching the Fantastic Four.
There's a reason behind my manic work ethic.I am a Water-based personality, with bits of Fire thrown in. What this means is, I don't give up. If something blocks my path, I'll either burn it down or go around it. Simple. So when my life feels like it does now, I start to panic. I set small fires to watch them burn, start new projects and spread myself thin in hopes of finding new ground. Because right now, life is waiting.
I can feel it, though, the Next Big Thing. It's not here yet, and I don't know when it will arrive, but I keep thinking of something my professor said a few weeks back, when I was in the pub and moaning about being unpublished.
"But, you have to take some comfort in knowing that you will be published."
There was an assurance in the way he said it, like it was just a matter of fact.And that's why I don't settle. Because maybe breaking into the market with an epic gay fantasy series is as difficult as everyone says it is. Maybe the Next Big Thing is sitting unfinished on my harddrive, or percolating in the back of my brain. Whatever the case, I'm not stopping until I get there.
I might have to keep waiting for that moment to arrive, but you damn well better believe I'll be fighting tooth and claw to get there, stat.
A.R. Kahler's Blog
- A.R. Kahler's profile
- 362 followers
A.R. Kahler isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
