Motley Moose – Archive

Since 2008 – Progress Through Politics

Broken

Semper AugustusIn the first decades of the 17th century the Dutch went mad for tulips. At the height of the craze in the 1630s, tremendous sums were given, fortunes were gained and lost – for a flower with no scent, no commercial application such as dye, or perfume, or medicine; a flower that bloomed for only a few days a year.

The most highly-prized tulips were those which, through some fluke, displayed variegated colors in flame-like striations; one of the most spectacular of these varieties was known as the Semper Augustus, a stunning blossom of deep carmine flames on a pure white ground.

These extraordinary flowers were called by the Dutch ‘broken.’

What the botanists, horticulturalists and gardeners of that time didn’t know was that the “break” which produced these vivid and unpredictable variations in color – these brilliant freaks of nature which were so admired that the greatest painters of the day repeatedly immortalized them on canvas – was caused by a virus.

Eighteen years ago next week I was diagnosed with a virus. As such events usually do, this came at what would seem, from the outside, to be a most inopportune and unwelcome time (is there ever a good one?). Life had never been better: I had a large circle of friends, was financially secure (with a promising job future), and was in superb physical condition. But my spirit was slowly dying.

I fainted when the doctor informed me that I had AIDS. Not because I was so naive as to believe that it could never happen to me, but rather because I fully recognized that things would never be the same. And indeed they weren’t.

At the time, I was dating a guy, handsome and sweet, who had what I secretly considered an excessive paranoia (he had a thing about not brushing his teeth just before a date, so as not to cause any micro-abrasions in the mouth that might lead to infection from kissing). When I told him I’d been diagnosed he really tried not to freak out, but (as kindly as he was able) quickly broke up with me. It hurt, but I really couldn’t blame him. Life presents each of us with difficult, sometimes heartbreaking decisions, and who was I to say his toothbrush obsession was wrong? I was now broken; ‘damaged goods,’ as we were described by someone in a gay magazine article I’d read.

As the months and years flew by I continued to go through the motions of life: work, social engagements, all the events that mark our days. But eventually there was a reckoning that came due, and when the crash came it was not physical, but emotional. I had what was once the fashion to call a nervous breakdown.

And then my spirit found the warmth of spring.

It’s been a long, slow and (sometimes) painful journey, but thanks to whatever force or combination of forces you wish to call it – fate, mother luck, God’s grace, the stars – I’m still here; my physical health is pretty stable, and my spirit is blossoming like never before.

One of my favorite snippets of lyric from Stephen Sondheim’s musical Into The Woods tells us that, despite popular misconceptions,

Witches can be right

Giants can be good.

And viruses can heal.

Vanitas

Tulip mania occurred at the same time that bubonic plague was ravaging the Netherlands, a seventh of the population dying in Amsterdam alone. The Thirty Years War (1618-1648) between Catholic Spain and the Protestant North also was being waged, and a major defeat of the Swedes in September 1634 allowed more military resources to be directed against the Dutch. A Swedish victory in October 1636 also may have reduced demand for tulips by the Germans.

Disease, death, and despair all may have encouraged speculation.

-Tulipmania

Well, yes, for such is human nature. But it is also human to hope; and in my case at least, disease, death and despair have, paradoxically, given me hope, have taught me greater compassion for myself and for others, and have imbued me with a deeper appreciation for the infinite beauty and value of life. Sometimes “broken” really is better.


97 comments

  1. slksfca

    …three or four years ago as a sort of introduction to the Street Prophets community. I thought I’d republish it here since I wanted to introduce myself to the herd, but don’t feel competent to write diaries at the moment.

    Even though it’s not exactly “fresh,” and despite my current health issues, this is still very much a true account of one important part of me. Thanks for reading!

  2. Jk2003

    Here’s hoping for a speedy recovery from your surgery so that you may once again feel well enough to write more diaries.  You write beautifully.  Thank you for sharing.

  3. iriti

    And thanks for this:

    Sometimes “broken” really is better.

    Broken and yet whole. Here’s hoping your upcoming surgery manages your current issues.

  4. Khloe

    Thanks for putting yourself out here, so we can get to know you. I will forever think of you when I see variegated tulips.

  5. Wee Mama

    You remind me of Cohen’s song –

    Ring the bells that still can ring

    Forget your perfect offering

    There is a crack in everything –

    That’s how the light gets in.

  6. raina

    I got goosebumps reading it.

    Many of us are broken in our own way, I think. I still struggle with depression, especially now that I’m an orphan. Life must go on, so I do things that give me pleasure, like crafts and gardening, and it helps.

    As it happens, I bought a pot of full-grown mixed bulbs today. It has daffodils, hyacinth, and tulips. I’m naming my tulips Silks. They may have no value otherwise, but they sure are beautiful, and so are you. {{{{hugs}}}}}

  7. Nurse Kelley

    When my life fell into crisis twelve years ago, I, too, went on a journey of self-discovery. We variegated tulips might have shortened lifespans, but aren’t we gorgeous?

    I love you, Scott. Your spirit and character and humor and compassion might have been there before AIDS, but I doubt you had this shine about you all those years ago. I think you’re spectacular. ♥

  8. cassandracarolina

    and meant to tell us about the next chapters in your story. With your eloquent talent for expression, a fine tale it will be, well told!  Take care of yourself, and the universe will do the rest!

  9. Beautiful writing from a beautiful spirit. Thank you, dear friend.

    When our tulips come up in a few short weeks (hope springs eternal, you know), I will be thinking of your words. You will be rehabbing during the time that the bulbs will be starting to move, pushing up their green shoots, strengthening and then blooming. And you will do the same.

    There is nothing broken about you. And by the way:  witches are right. 😉

  10. Ronk

    I love the tulip analogy. They are beautiful in all forms. And you seem to have found your heart as well. Frankly, I do not think I would call them or you as “broken,” just different and nature needs diversity to survive.

    On the lighter side, I had three planters of tulip bulbs coming up with 3-4″ leaves – yesterday. The local foraging deer sheered them all off to about an inch above the bulb.

    I used to love both deer and tulips.  

  11. DavidW

    On making it 18 years. And here’s to many more after that surgery is out of the way. I went and saw “How to Survive a Plague” tonight, so it was nice to come home and read your beautiful post here. Thank you! In a year it will be 30 years as damaged goods for me. Life has sure turned out to be a roller coaster ride, that’s for sure. (When is your surgery btw? I’ve been out of the loop)

  12. princesspat

    Well, yes, for such is human nature. But it is also human to hope; and in my case at least, disease, death and despair have, paradoxically, given me hope, have taught me greater compassion for myself and for others, and have imbued me with a deeper appreciation for the infinite beauty and value of life. Sometimes “broken” really is better.

    Thank you my friend, thank you.

  13. Ebby

    as I’d not read it before.  Beautiful story from a beautiful soul, beautifully told.  I’m glad to know a little more of what has made you the wonderful, warm, shining spirit you are.  

    Bestest wishes for your surgery (finally!) and quick, complete recovery.

  14. GlenThePlumber

    so emotionally intelligent…much self-awareness…you really are special…I’m honored to call you a friend.

    I’ll be keeping an eye on you as your surgery approaches and then recovery begins…making sure the SF crew is there when needed…we want to make sure you have the best chance for a quick and complete recovery.

    yesterday was a great day…from start to finish…thank you for being part of it.

    peace and hugs to you.

  15. dear occupant

     photo urhausen024-2.jpg

    i too had an experience with a virus about a dozen years ago that precipitated a breakdown similar to yours. i admire your courage to write about it, i doubt that i could. it completely shattered my trust, a profound trust that i had come to expect and rely on and i broke.

    i painstakingly put the pieces back together, slowly, meticulously over time. having lived 58 years and experienced some very difficult moments, i now have what antique afficianados refer to as a wonderful ‘PATINA.’

    our sum is greater than our parts. {{{{slksfca}}}}

    heal well and look for your dog, it’s there waiting.

  16. Lorinda Pike

    But even late, I thank you, Silks, for writing something so wonderful.

    I occasionally use a plant analogy too. Some of us, when broken, become bonsai – molded and twisted by fate and circumstance, into a shape that is exquisitely transcendent and beautiful.

    You are bonsai. {{{{{slksfca}}}}}

  17. bubbanomics

    To make an omelet you gotta break some eggs.  As potential energy becomes kinetic when the eggs escape their shells, so it can be with breaks of a human nature.

  18. wordsinthewind

    I had not seen this before and I find your story inspiring. I hope as you recover from your surgery you will write more.  

  19. cassandracarolina

    Be we broken, forgotten, or scarred

    And our finish irrep’rably marred

    Deep inside, we survive

    And against all odds, thrive

    As with life’s tribulations we’ve sparred.  

  20. slksfca

    …for the overwhelming and very warm response to my diary. I’m deeply touched, and profoundly grateful to be a part of this friendly herd!

  21. LeftOverFlowerChild

    So beautiful and moving. I don’t really know you but I am enjoying slowly coming to learn more about your from writings and your kind comments. Always kind, always considerate of others. Now I understand how that came to be.

    Hugh Prather once wrote about how life experiences can leave us brittle and unyielding or they can shape us like well worn leather…Comforting, nice to be near, flexible and giving. Someone up thread called it a certain “patina” a very good description of leather well worn. You have such grace in all that you’ve faced and give hope to others by sharing your life.

    In my own life, broken is found in the challenges of my daughter…Sometimes the life we plan never happens, but the life we make after changed circumstances gives us gifts beyond what we could have imagined. Or at least that’s been my experience.

    Thank you again. I hope your upcoming surgery is successful and you heal quickly.

    Suzi

  22. maggiejean

    sharing this diary. I almost missed it. I’m so glad I came to the Moose to see what’s happening.

    Beautifully written, nicely expressed thoughts. Hugs my friend.

  23. mapamp

    You welcomed me when I was scared to return–a prodigal daughter, of sorts. I changed my name at Street Prophets, because I was different than when I started.

    Your welcome always has meant the world to me. I was broken in many ways. Your kindness led to a special kind of healing for me.

    Thank you for this diary. Thank you for the love you share.

    Love you right back {{{{Scott}}}}

  24. mapamp

    You welcomed me when I was scared to return–a prodigal daughter, of sorts. I changed my name at Street Prophets, because I was different than when I started.

    Your welcome always has meant the world to me. I was broken in many ways. Your kindness led to a special kind of healing for me.

    Thank you for this diary. Thank you for the love you share.

    Love you right back {{{{Scott}}}}

  25. DeniseVelez

    with us all Silky. Looks like you have flipped the “hourglass of doom” upside down with the grains of sand flowing upward into life – rather than a timer ticking off time left on the planet. It is really tough getting a diagnosis as you did – and then moving through the stages of processing it, with all the baggage – from denial to rage to depression…just want to reach through the computer this morning and give you a big hug!

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