When I was young I subjected myself to a lot of pain. So full of ego I would sooner suffer silently than surrender to complaining or pain-killing substances.

In time, if you’re open and paying attention, pain can go from being, well, a pain, to becoming more of a messenger. It is either threatening, indicating a weakness or sickness; or it is empowering, indicating strength or health.

When I started hiking the Appalachian Trail in 1997 I felt pain all over my body everyday. Knee pain, for example, came and went during the first few months of my hike. Thankfully I managed it well and over time my knee got stronger, and the periodic pain from weakness eventually just went away for good.

Pain was an important resource. More than a messenger. Almost like a friend, but not quite. More like a compass or a guide. More like an objective coach. It pushed me and resisted me and I did not always like what it had to say, but I knew it was grounded in a wisdom deeper than my experience.

I walked 2,160+ miles on purpose and pain kept me in check. It forced discipline upon me and helped me set good boundaries.

During my divorce, my experience with pain was very different. It was largely emotional and it didn’t feel like a messenger or a coach, it felt like a bully.

For a long time I was either in denial that my marriage was failing or I felt powerless to fix what was failing. I was convinced that I just had to hold on, that soon my wife would come around. That she would choose me again and surrender to my lead and THEN we could simplify and THEN everything would be okay and we could be happy again.

As I held on, I made concessions thinking that “giving” was the way. Giving felt like virtue to me. “Don’t be right,” came the voice, “do the right thing.” At the time, giving seemed like the right thing to do. And to give was to accommodate. I decided self-sacrifice was going to be my way. But over time self-sacrifice didn’t fulfill me, it emptied me. So when I accommodated I merely gave away my power. At the time I thought that giving everything was good and the right thing to do, but eventually I had sacrificed so much of myself that emptiness was all I had left to give.

And it wasn’t just in my marriage. My professional life suffered, I grew distant with friends, I didn’t feel like I was being the father I wanted to be, and it took a toll on my family who consistently provided so much support.

In these relationship scenarios I was trying to be something I wasn’t, something more than I was, and I ruined good opportunities and good relationships as a result. I also sacrificed many of my personal passions, like hiking and kayaking, and replaced them with supposed to be doings, like working for the all-mighty paycheck.

I literally set my creative work aside in boxes and placed it all into storage. Poems, children’s stories, screenplays, songs, and business plans. All things that woke me up in the morning and kept me energized into the night. I put it all away so I could focus on what I was supposed to be doing. I served others without serving myself. I relinquished control. I was no longer the master of my domain. The emotional pain only grew and I ached and hoped to be set free from it.

In a way I fell from grace, less because of what was happening to me than what I was not making happen. I was loaded down with bad energy. I was weakening. I was kicking my soul out of my body and my entire being was suffering.

That lasted for far longer than I am comfortable admitting and while, intellectually, I knew all along that I was the only one who could fix it, I had some emotional-awareness catching-up to do.

So I did what made the most sense to me, I started walking in the woods again…a lot.

After graduating from college and exploring the US, Canada, Central and South Americas, I came to understand how regular communion with nature is essential. No matter where I am, whenever I go out for a hike or bike ride, I feel my emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual health enhanced. Always, every time improved.

Author Richard Louv, in his book Last Child in the Woods (2005) presented a condition called Nature-deficit disorder to describe the problems people face as a result of being disconnected with nature.

“By its broadest interpretation, nature-deficit disorder is an atrophied awareness, a diminished ability to find meaning in the life that surrounds us.”

In his June 2011 article in Outside titled “Get Your Mind Dirty,” Louv further discussed how much of an effect the disconnect with nature has on all of us, children and adults alike.

“When we think of the nature deficit, we usually think of kids spending too much time indoors plugged into an outlet or computer screen. But after the book’s publication, I heard adults speak with heartfelt emotion, even anger, about their own sense of loss.”

This is extremely important and I’ll just let the article speak for itself. Read the Outside Mag article.

Charlie Sheen was recently quoted in an Earthlink article:

“I am on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available because if you try it you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.”

Call me strange, but I am loving Charlie Sheen right now, not because I’m interested in promoting his way of life, but because of the way he has me thinking about my way of life. As interesting as every word coming out of his mouth is right now, perhaps even more interesting is the way people are responding to him. From what I can tell, most in the media are shaking their heads, calling him sick and saying he needs help. While that may have merit, there’s another side to this that I think is valuable to see.

I posted the above quote on my Facebook status, some of the comments included:

• “An instant classic!”
• “wired for sound…possibly delusional, too…hate to see him on something.”
• “…this guy has become my hero.”
• “He has seriously lost it.”

The line between being lost and being found can be a very fine one…and Charlie Sheen is walking it, to be sure. Either way, I never liked Charlie Sheen until now.

Whether you like him or believe him or think he’s delusional, you cannot deny that Sheen has removed an enormous weight from his own shoulders and is experiencing a freedom within himself that has been dying to get out for a long time. Some are saying that this is the beginning of his final demise, I would argue that this is his best chance for survival. His best chance at seeing his children become adults, and their best chance at having a father who is at least present and engaged in the world.

Let’s just agree that Charlie Sheen is an addict. He says he has quit drugs and alcohol and has test results to prove it. He has clearly not quit women and, personally, I can’t fault him for that. I do not condone many of his lifestyle choices nor much of his general behavior, but I’m really drawn to what appears to be his new addiction, what I would call “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth according to Charlie Sheen.”

Freedom of expression with courage and without apology. The line between beneficial and detrimental is fine, indeed, but if it is delivered from a foundation of awareness and rational thinking, it’s an addiction we should all be so bold to exercise.