Spiritual Renewal, or The Hazards Of Isolation

Herman is no stranger to us here at The Spin Cycle. He joined the forums of AIDSmeds.com in July of this year. Slowly at first he began to open up and reveal a life ravaged by the toll of dealing with HIV since his diagnosis in 1987. We have since learned of the tragic loss of a life partner in the 1990s, his eventual cessation of work (he worked for an airline as a flight attendant for many years) and his steady withdrawl from society. As Herman became more isolated, his sense of self-worth crumbled and he descended into a deadening clinical depression.

When Hermie first responded to my post about cocksucking, all I really knew about him was that he was a long-term survivor and that he lived in Belgium, so I responded to his comment in French, more as lark than anything else. This little bit of flirty banter blossomed into a friendship that deepened with each private message and comment retort. I learned that "mon petit chou fou" is actually Dutch and that French is just one of his many languages. Being non-native Francophones, we were much more forgiving of the inevitable little missteps in grammer and spelling than someone actually born within sneering distance of the Palais Garnier. French has become our little code, and somewhere between the "coo-coos" and the "bisous" our intimate cyberrapport grew into a serious case of fraternal love.

When my computer was wiped out by a power surge cause by Hurricaine Katrina, Hermie was one of the few folks (aside from my beloved blogmates MtD and Ronnita) with whom I maintained active communication. I simply couldn't bear a break in the conversation. Make no mistake: Hermie supports me at least as much as anything I might do for him. We are fellow travellers along a road that has been extended far beyond the points where our lifelong friends and lovers had taken their exits.

There was a gathering of AIDSmeds forum members in Toronto last weekend in conjunction with a memorial service for those who have already fallen to AIDS. I was unable to attend, but Hermie made it, and it changed his life. Years of isolation and depression flaked off like a serpent's dead skin, exposing a raw, fresh surface underneath. Understanding both the profoundity of what had occurred and the fragility of his current state, I felt a deep sense of obligation to help my dear friend process his experiences as fully and permanently as possible.

I approached my Covenmates and proposed that Hermie publish his thoughts on how the gathering had changed him. We post individually but with a common voice and perspective, and all new ideas are vetted thoroughly in regular meetings. We are a team and as such vote on everything, reaching a unanimous agreement before spreading our brand of anarchy and absinthe to you, our loyal (if occasionally one-handed) readers. It was agreed that Hermie would e-mail me his post and that I would publish it, with edits and addenda as I saw fit.

I present our first guestblogger, Herman, and his post in its entirety:

Picture me 3 weeks ago: suffering from a serious burnout, barely hanging on to life, diagnosed with clinical depression. This is when I decided to take what it needed and prepared for the Toronto gathering. Intuition it was that made me follow my guides to an unknown place and cyber friends, not knowing what to expect. I knew this meeting had the potential of changing my life. Today I know it definitely did.

Annie was the first I ran into. What a thrill to finally see an avatar come to life. Two hearts, two energies, two souls, hurt by HIV finally were united. The immense warmth, the overwhelming energy, the incredible feeling of acceptance, the purest form of spiritual love, it all was happening at once.

A cyber partner had become one of flesh and blood.

As the day went by more encounters took place. There was wonderful Rab, eccentric Joe and Stephen and more to come. Between the first rattling of words, came long pauses of hugging, of crying, of joy and shared grief. Finally our dream had turned into a bright reality.

Barely could I await sunrise on Thursday.
A day that would bring more avatars alive.
A day that would change my life for ever.

One by one, soul by soul, these wonderful people walked into my life, just like that, all bringing their own story, background and dreams. The bonds were made and forged, and that is forever, the power of them feeling strong like concrete.

Our first night together proved to be all but about HIV. These caring, loving souls shared so much energy, so much humour, so much will to live with me that in no time my energy was raised to levels I never would have dreamed of reaching again.

Paying tribute to those taken from us by the virus bonded us even more. Every member posted a ribbon with the name of a beloved departed friend, lover or relative on the wall of the less fortunate. I myself was glad to finally be able to release most of the tension, of my grief, of my uncountable days of sadness and cry my soul out.

Came two more days of sharing, talking, hugging, laughing, crying, and above all of building a huge glowing ball of positive energy.

This meeting was, as Rab put it so accurately, not about where we came from, whether we were rich or poor, nor about our past battles. This gathering was about being positive, about sharing, about able to say:
It is ok, I understand, I am positive too.
The phenomenal healing power that resulted from this meeting will be carried out to all corners of the universe.
We have become soul mates on a journey that will never end. And as death us parts our spirits will go on; these bonds are forever.

With love and gratitude,

Herman

Hermie, cheri-

I honor your epiphany. Hold on to the strength and grace that you found in Canada and build a new sense of empowerment. We love you unconditionally and are one with you in your struggle against despair.

IN SOLIDARITY!
B