Why Am I Still Alive?

A Story by Tim Patten

One thing I do as a POZ person of 33 years.

Glitter rock’s starman jettisoned Earth this year, transporting my mind elsewhere, as if in a “Space Oddities” time warp. I felt like Ziggy Stardust�"David Bowie�"and I were “Heroes,” at least for a day: we were about the same age, and had survived pessimists and phobias. Five decades of his haunting tunes illuminated my life’s backstory; his mind-bending lyrics highlighted and influenced my transformation from skinny farm boy to faggoted adventurer�"and eventually, HIV. My heart is hollow, now that he’s gone�"“ground control to Major Tom.” I feel stunned and alone.

When I speak of loneliness, I don’t mean that which comes from having few friends or loved ones around. Rather, it is an emptiness of sorts, as the soundtrack of my life fades into silence�"a metaphor, perhaps, for the approaching end of my own long journey. My mind shuffles through the tracks of the gifted man’s repertoire�" “Let’s Dance,” “Young Americans,” “Changes,” and many others�"as I race through one music video after another. I devour his essence and wallow in the flashes of poignancy and significance they stir up.

With each song, I recall the cosmic bond that connected him and me�"traveling along separate pathways�"as if we were on the same journey. We fought the machine with individualized creativity: I found exotic ways to work through my disease for 20 years without medications; he evolved as a performer through ever-changing styles and characters. Having left social norms behind, I felt special moments with the glam-rock superstar. For his final mission, Bowie planned a spaceship-styled exit into the outer reaches of our universe. After 33 years of HIV drama, I, too, am pondering my escape-hatch trajectory.

Friends often ask or, perhaps, quietly wonder, “How did I survive for so long?” or “Why did I not perish along with the millions of others who got AIDS?” I have asked myself the same. But then I recall a technique I learned in the 1970s, in the midst of my spiritual quest. Although I had used it on numerous occasions, the time had come to tap anything that might help in some way. I mention it today because it is something I have relied on since my 1983 diagnosis. Admittedly, it might not have had much to do with my survival, but maybe it doesn’t matter. In less than 30 minutes, I feel I have done something constructive for myself.

During this process of self-acceptance, I try to ensure I’m not holding on to fears, dark energy or resistance toward any organ or body part, or to sensations emanating within me. I begin by setting aside time to lie down on my back and close my eyes. I shift my thoughts and attentions away from events and schedules and other people. Using my mind’s eye, I focus on my relaxing body. I observe my head, its shape, size and color. I look at it objectively, seeing it, touching it, tasting it, and smelling it with various senses. I feel the muscles, hairs, scalp and tendons, identifying and relaxing them. I explore any tensions, pains and feelings that are there or come up.

Next, I direct my attention toward my eyes and brain. If feelings or other impulses bubble up, I concentrate on and absorb them, making them part of me. If I become aware of a headache or some other pain, I describe its location, size, color and other aspects, taking time to comprehend and digest it. I listen for words and messages I might communicate to myself about my head, brain, eyes and neck. Once taken in, I implore myself to accept the pain, embracing and becoming one with it. I let go of whatever resistance I have and tell myself to love it fully and let it become one with me.

I relax and let what I’ve done so far sink in. Soon, I feel like I did when I was young, when I scraped my knee and mom used hydrogen peroxide or healing ointment to disinfect the wound and soothe the pain. After that, I focus on my shoulders. I repeat the process, exploring and examining pains and sensations and taking the time necessary to embrace them all�"good, bad or ugly. I allow whatever I find to shed its form and become one with me. I love and nurture whatever is there, as if I am flushing it clean with a natural antiseptic or the fresh flow of blood.

Once I feel cleansed, I shift the focus down to my chest, lungs and heart. I pay careful attention, absorbing and acknowledging whatever sensations, feelings and emotions get unearthed. If there is pain, I immerse myself in it. I assess its color, size and shape and merge my entire being with it. I listen to my breath and imagine my lungs filling up, transforming the bluishness into life-sustaining red blood, pumping through my heart to nourish my body again. I cherish and nurture it all, moving from one part to the next, embracing every bit as my own.

After that, I direct attention to the center of my abdomen. I rely on the same process, targeting areas that have granules, darkness or pain. I concentrate on them, intimately examining their size, shape and color, which helps me to understand, accept and embrace whatever is there. I extend my inner gaze to my lower abdomen, and then down my legs to the ends of my toes, loving and absorbing every part that I see. I don’t resist or avoid any of the things that are in or of me. I hug, encircle and love each bit�"they are me.

I’m sure some might say my process of acceptance sounds like a loony California thing, but I’ve been doing it for decades. I’ve used it to eliminate headaches, body aches from roller derby injuries, and a recent lung infection that left me briefly hospitalized. When I had a lump of cancer in my groin, I used the technique over and over again. Did it work? I’m not sure I will ever know. Regardless, the significance of life never fails to astound. Health situations may be difficult and personal, but it seems that the magic that holds it together is love, for others and for ourselves.

Nowadays, I take my medications as directed. My daily routine includes a 20-minute walk and a similarly long yoga routine. For meals, I mostly eat vegetables and fruit with small portions of meat. I know first-hand that Mother Nature can create miracles; she has become my best friend through my HIV journey. I also know that my own nature and spirit have power. As with, I believe, David Bowie, I’ve achieved every creative goal I set out to accomplish since I was young. Lately I’ve been writing for the modern men’s liberation movement. I’ve experienced love and loved others deeply in return.

At this stage of my life, everything is an unexpected blessing, like cherries on the ice cream sundae of life. As Ziggy Stardust would probably have understood, living a creative and loving life is seizing the essential reward of an everlasting universe.