i am tired of feeling like a failure, tired of treading water, panting into the abyss, thinking if i wasn’t so tired, i would be and do all that i dream of, but what do i dream of, what would i be if i got out of my way, allowed others to flow into and around me and accepted their gifts and let them in to touch my heart, a heart so heavy with so much hurt, so much pain, so much fear of further breaking, it’s like i’m sitting back, not moving, afraid the duct tape will lift, the bits of string unknot or that the crazy glue will finally chemically breakdown and loosen its grip allowing all the pieces of my broken heart to fall, unprotected, unhinged, unloved, lost to tumble into the chasm and i will see that, i do not exist and all this pain and strain of holding it all together has really been for nought, nothing but a fucking waste of time and effort and life, holding this position, holding on to the fear of further hurt, holding on because it feels that at every turn there has been some motherfucker wielding a 2 by 4 and smacking it into my forehead every time i turn a corner, out on my ass again or is that just a belief, an irrational undercurrent, thrust upon me by a childhood of heart break, an inappropriate sexual introduction, emotional disconnection, numb and struck dumb by the vagaries of this life at an early age and the ongoing struggle to heal these wounds, a stubborn man still acting as if his abuser is behind the bedroom door.
words
believe it or not, i was once a sensitive child
seeking love, attention and affection
from a father who was rarely physically present
with anything but alcohol and his own pain
my mother was there and provided
but never developed the tools
to deal with her loses
when i thought that those things had finally arrived
the price was high, the damage
present to this day
i took in this lack of nourishment
and tried as i might to find
the missing pieces
through peers that were as damaged as me
drugs and alcohol came early
anger and rage both suppressed
and released in unproductive ways
last Friday i found myself on a mat
breathing
breathing
the centre of my chest
frozen, locked up
images of those relationships
came into my mind
and i tried to feel the pain
the grief
that has lain inside of me
for as long as i can recall
instead of feeling
the stunted child has
protected
has locked away and pretended
that he can keep these wounds at bay
that he can prevent their recurrence
this has prevented my vulnerability
this has keep me in a stance
of self-protection
of keeping others at arms length
i have a tendency to become emotional
when i can relate to the pain of others
i can feel what they may be feeling
or what i believe it would feel like for me
but most of the time
i have avoided those feeling
and prevented them from emanating
from inside of me
friday i had a glimpse
of this pain
looking at it
i felt and wept a little
but the block is still there
the block that feels
omnipresent
this block keeps others at a distance
prevents eye contact
when expressing my truth
prevents real vulnerability
this is what i want to move
this is what i want to change
this is why i am here
as we heal from the wounds
that have so long defined us
as we move from the patterns
that we have clung to & lived with
we can accept ourselves
with much deeper compassion
we can learn to forgive
all that we have resented
we will move with the fluidity
that is our true nature
we will start to love all of it
as our own creation
you can i can we can
have a good future
the following is a speech i gave on friday to a group of 25 students in my speaking with confidence elective.
.
.
What I want to talk to you about today is an issue that has been close to the core of my reality for a very long time. It is one that I have been drawn to in media reports and in all honestly has occupied so much space in my mind that I have at times questioned my own sanity. It also happens to be a topic that no one really wants to talk about.
My name is Bryant and I experienced sexual abuse over a three year period between the ages of 6 and 9.
I do not see myself as either a victim of or as survivor of sexual abuse, but simply as one who has experienced it, all the while being acutely aware of its impact and how it has shaped the reality I have experienced.
I could talk for the next hour about the impact of this experience in my life, but that is not what I am here to do today. I am looking to start a conversation that will hopefully allow you to think about having a conversation which could move us as a society to have a larger conversation because in my experience as far as the subject of Childhood Sexual Abuse goes, we have either been not having a conversation or have been having the wrong conversation. Continue Reading
the following is a research essay I did for a first year course, Canadian Social Welfare, in 2010 at George Brown College in Toronto.
While my directional analysis could have been more focused and provided more in the way of solutions, I still feel that it is worth posting here.
.
.
Childhood Sexual Abuse and Its Impact In Canada
The perpetuation of child sexual abuse in Canada has far reaching effects and consequences for its victims, its perpetrators and Canadian society as a whole. These effects are systemic in nature and include: the trauma of the individual, the family and the community to the added burdens that it places on all of society economically, judicially and through the need for added social services. I am going to illustrate the current ramifications of child sexual abuse and what is and is not being done to prevent it from occurring. Ultimately I will suggest some structural issues that I believe need to be addressed in order to move towards improving the social impact of this issue.

what is the weight of past experience?
disconnect
uncertainty
anxiety
depression
abuse
apathy
criminality
pain
frustration
anger
hurt
isolation
dispair
distrust
fear
abandonment
suicide
paranoia
low self-esteem
pessimism
what is the answer to the weight?
patience
perseverance
focus
desire
optimism
love
joy
belief
balance
how do we lose the weight?
one moment
one breath
at a
time

watching someone i know slip and fall into a place that i so easily could have ended up
does make me appreciate so much more what i have and risk losing
by not keeping a focus on moving beyond the pain
that this reality has thrown into my path
but we owe it to ourselves
to do what we can
to heal
despite the fear
despite the built in desire
to perpetuate that which was imposed
upon us by others and which we certainly had a choice
to bring into this reality as a way in which to recognize and own
our own divinity by accepting the truth of who we are and working damn hard
to breath that in in every moment of our existence no matter where we find ourselves in the moment
chris- i send you both peace and love
and a strong desire that you do not lose sight of all that you are and have become despite where you find yourself today.

may the real change
that we seek
become a
permanent feature
in our reality
may the shift
in the status quo
march us a step
or three towards
an equal society
may the failures
of the past
become the lessons
of today
let us grow
let us grow
let us grow


entering into unknown territory
can be both frightening and uncertain
even though the internal need
to shift feels so right and omnipresent
out of comfort
we must always move
for things to actually change
for growth to actually occur
i have adjusted to so much new reality
this past half year
i have so much more newness
awaiting on the threshold
surrender
and awareness
awareness
and surrender
i hope to bring those more deeply
into my daily practice
as we have chosen to be here
we have also chosen this unfolding
this moment
this movement
a lifetime of preparation
millennia of groundwork
enter every moment with purpose
know that all is what it needs to be
peaceandlove
bryant
an eye for an eye
a moment of reprieve
for a country slipping
into obscurity
a swing to the left
a jump to the right
for a country still struggling
to become itself
all i want to do is make a difference
all i want to be is who i am
moving away from power is a slower
process than i had hoped
moving into love and intuition
will eventually see the light
peaceandlove
b
as the everythingness of nothingness
builds at a frenzied pace
i wonder how we are keeping
our collective shit together
there is change
and
there is unchange
and
the choice is in our hands
i am bumping up against a swelling
and rising of old old energy,
as we all are
but knowing that i have the choice
to cling and quiver
or glide and accept
does not make
the task any easier
a self-worth
that is bruised
is not beaten
but the ability to flow thru
like a tsunami or a revolution
undeterred by the loops
of mind playing out on the periphery
keeps me pushing forward
in the timelessness of eternity
to what do i owe my good fortune,
what gods have shined down
to find me here now
safely swaddled in love and acceptance?
i do not have much from a societal perspective
but i am rich in so many other ways
so i give thanks and thanks
and thanks again
as i work to keep my heart open
and my mind free from its attempts
to cling to fear and uncertainty
as i know that all the wisdom of the universe
is available in my heart
i weep openly for this to become a contagion
and spread across the planet
peaceandlove
always
the air is brittle on a cold february morning
as the world shifts from power to inclusion (to love?)
decades of top down authoritarian rule
all over the planet are shifting, slowly (but suddenly)
from a desire to take destiny into one’s own hands
people are standing up and linking arms
and there are many, many hands
that have been tied, for so very very long
what is on the surface inclusionary,
non-sectarian and apolitical
has the power to overcome
the meddling of those who wield force
i sit and watch, waiting, wondering, awed
by a tsunami of hope and empowerment
wondering when the power balance
of inequality will reach it’s tipping point
the timing of this comes as no surprise
as we enter into a final phase
of the mayan calendar,
the universal underworld
historically political vacuums get easily filled
by opportunistic, fanatical or despotic players
though i cannot see that playing out this time
as the status quo has been under too much pressure lately
the shine has been coming off the facade
as a more centred and personal energetic
has been awakening in all people everywhere
whether they have been aware of it or not
let us hope that the moment of love for
not power over, is given a moment
to shine in the sun for people everywhere
who’s blinders are slowly coming off
all power to the people
all people are power
all love is inclusion
blessed be
*Spoken by The Bar-Kays saxophonist, Harvey “Joe” Henderson, at Wattstax, August 20, 1972,
* Sampled by Public Enemy in, Show ‘Em Whatcha Got

Anyone who checks here regularly might be wondering what’s up, as I haven’t been posting much of late.
The short answer is I have been busy.
I have moved to the other side of the Don River, a side which I haven’t lived on in so so many years, but the backyard and chilled vibe is a welcome change to the frenetic energy of Chinatown and the more relaxed bustle of Kensington Market. I really did love my former space, but knowing that it has been handed over to a wonderful friend who hasn’t even realized how much he will love the location and juxtaposition between the solitude of the space and the buzz of the community that surrounds it, makes it a bit easier to let go of.
I have stepped out of my self-imposed isolation into the warm and loving environment of female and toddler energy, much to both my surprise and delight.
So while I may be tired at the end of the day, I haven’t been waking with the exhaustion that I had come to feel was normal for the past few years.
Positivity abounds despite a lag in my creativity, which I know is waiting very close by, so keep checking back and you will see the fruits of all this wondrous change.
peace love and balance in this energetic climate of change.
About 4 weeks ago I was asked if I would be interested in giving a talk to a group of about 30 law students at Osgoode Hall, the Law School at York University. It was suggested that while the students get the perspective from both the defense and prosecution they seldom get any real insight into the impact and perspective of victims of sexual abuse. I readily agreed despite my inexperience (and discomfort) with public speaking. I felt that this would provide me with an opportunity to share my perspective, based upon my personal experiences, of a culture that to me does not want to honestly look at or discuss what needs to change in order to prevent the sexual abuse of our most vulnerable citizens with people that may one day be in position to assist in that change.
Yesterday I was informed that it might not be a good idea for me to proceed, as there was a very real possibility that my words, opinions and perspectives would be taken out of context either by group members or the Crown Attorney leading the seminar. As a result of this potential my engagement did not proceed.
So I am laying it out here for you as I feel that this needs to be said.
My name is Bryant, I am 43 years old and I was sexually abused for a period of about three years between the ages of 5 and 8.
I do not consider myself to be either a victim or a survivor as I feel that both those terms diminish me as a person who has experienced one of the most insidious yet pervasive violations of the individual.
Victims to me are those still cowering, wounded in the corner and survivors are those that our society holds up to prove that all this can be gotten past. But the bottom line is that having this kind of experience will have lifelong ramifications upon the individual.
And in my case the effects of have played out in every aspect of my life since.
In my teens and twenties I had minor issues with substance abuse, namely alcohol, and I have tried at one point or another most drugs you can think of. I now rarely imbibe but have been smoking marijuana fairly steadily since I was 11 years old.
I have had problems in my familial relationships, my brother who is 3 years older than I and was also subjected to this same abuser, we have never been close since the abuse came to an end
He, I believe, because of his guilt for not protecting me as well as the resulting trauma that has affected his life.
And for myself I can only surmise that I did hold on to some of the same, that he didn’t protect me and the resulting lack of trust, particularly of males that has permeated my life affected that relationship as well.
The relationship with my mother, who I always both loved and respected was never the same after the abuse, her own guilt drowned out with alcohol, and for her own prior reasons an inability to deal with the issue of my abuse from an emotional perspective.
While I never felt that I was holding my mother personally responsible for allowing this to happen, the reality of the matter is that she left my brother and I alone with a sexual predator.
And honestly ladies and gentlemen, that is a pretty difficult dynamic for all parties to resolve in a way that truly salvages relationships.
I do however, look back with happiness, that I was able to assuage her guilt on her deathbed 5 years ago.
I first met Dr. Julian Gojer, about 17 years ago when at the age 26 it finally dawned on me that so much of what seemed wrong in my life, from my issues with anger, borderline alcoholism, difficulties in relationships, nihilistic worldview, hardcore atheistic perspective, minor criminal and anti-social behavior, and most ominously a lingering depression could all be traced back to the sexual abuse that I had always known was there but could not see it’s effect upon my state of being both in myself and in my broader worldview.
Dr. Gojer diagnosed me with Dystimia
Which is basically a longterm omnipresent and low-level depression that has informed most of my life. While I am not looking to box myself in with a generic diagnosis / label, the shoe does seems to fit.
Since I am at this venue talking about this subject it seems to make sense that I address my perspective here utilizing a cultural and societal based model.
My personal opinion of this issue is that we live in a culture that indirectly condones the sexual exploitation of children. This issue is so rampant and wide spread that I have been unable to come to any other conclusion.
So let me ask this question:
How many people here today have been sexually violated?
If the statistics are to be trusted,
1 in 3 girls and 1 in 6 boys will suffer some form of sexual abuse before the age of 18.
If this hasn’t been your personal experience, I ask you to look around the room and do the math.
This is on so many levels unconscionable.
In a society that pays so much lip service to the protection of children it really begs the question: what the fuck is going on here.
I do not have any answers for you as to what needs to change here, though I will pose 2 questions:
1) Why is there so little effort put into preventing this when we know the number of people affected is so high?
2) What needs to change here?
We still live in a culture that does not truly want to look inside of itself and find those answers. Because if it did this would be part of a larger ongoing conversation involving all levels of society to actively and honestly address, change and help assist those affected and not simply with monetary compensation after the fact.
Ignoring the broader issue and piecemeal monetary settlements does nothing to assist those who have been violated actually heal.
I do not believe that the police, the crown, the judges or the law makers really understand or care enough to change the status quo, for I can assure you that there are abusers involved in all of those professions.
When my abuse came to light as a result of another child telling his parents and the police being brought in.
I was home on a PA day with my brother when 2 non-uniformed cops came to my door, we called my mother at work and she said to let them in and she would get home as soon as she could.
All these years later in still feels to me that it was an interrogation.
And the end result was that while the abuser was removed from my life, that was the end of it. We were neither informed further about the investigation nor what happened to the offender. And I was left with a lingering sense of betrayal and loss. For these types of individuals are well versed in gaining trust and friendship and then turning the resultant vulnerability into exploitation and power over.
Flash forward to 1998 just before I stopped doing work with Dr. Gojer.
I had found my abuser’s name in the phonebook and in one of many ironies found that he was living in the same area where my mother now lived, in Scarborough as opposed to where the abuse had taken place in North York. I staked out his house and confirmed that it was indeed him, all these years later and as I sat in my car I wondered which of my friends I could get a gun through, knowing that it wouldn’t be that difficult.
But in the end I decided to speak with the sexual assault squad at 42 division near where he lived. I called and asked if they would like to know about a pedophile that lived in their neighbourhood, when I told them the name Trevor Man, I was informed that they were aware of him as he was under current charges and asked if I would like to come in and talk to them. A few days later, I went in and spoke with a near retirement and completely sympathetic detective named Tranter (sp?). Who after interviewing both myself and my brother asked if we would like to add on an historic charge to his current ones. We hesitantly agreed.
Man’s current charge was for sexually abusing a 15 year old boy who lived on his street with his single mother, whom he had befriended. A similar pattern as all those years ago. I also found out that he had 2 prior convictions for sexually assaulting under aged boys.
It was suggested that by adding this historical charge and being allowed to read a victim impact statement into the court record I would be able to add some weight to the sentence and possibly allow for some healing in me.
Needless to say this was not how it worked out.
Prior to trial there was a meeting with my brother, detective Tranter and myself in the Crown Attorney for the City of Scarborough, John McMahon’s office. Mr. McMahon is now a judge with the Superior Court of Ontario.
In his office the Crown informed me that I had 3 options.
As the current charges related to a now 17 year old boy, who was unwilling to testify, in open court, something which I could both understand and empathize with, the crown had cut a deal with the defendant – a twice convicted serial pedophile – to give him 2 years less a day, as you are aware the maximum sentence allowed before a penitentiary sentence. Allowing for selective memory, I am pretty certain he laughed when I suggested that Man was a dangerous offender.
In my incredulity of hearing that I really cannot be certain of the vitriol that I spewed forth upon the Crown, but let’s say it is probably a good thing that I never sought out that gun .
So as I said I was given 3 options:
1) Shut up, like it and proceed.
2) Do nothing.
3) Separate the historical charge, which would most likely result in taking 3 to 5 years to run through the courts and probably result in a concurrent sentence.
I went with door #1 but I did not like it.
On the day of the sentencing I was denied being able to read my statement into the court, despite previous promises, by the Police, by the Crown and by the Victims Services Worker.
The only feel good moment in this whole affair happened just as the proceedings were completed. A woman leaned in behind me and quietly thanked me, as the now third time convicted pedophile had been coaching her young Son in water polo at this very institution, York University.
Having had a lack of trust for all authority especially the police, having had no belief in the criminal justice system, having had no faith in lawyers and crown attorneys I had actually set out on this last chapter hoping that this outcome would change some of those old imprints, but here I was again being proven right by a system of indifference that does not seem to care about the impact that this type of violence, has upon the weakest members of our society. And this is violence; just because I was never physically harmed by this experience the sexual coercion of children by adults is an act of violence, which leaves scars much deeper than any physical wounds ever can.
From my vantage point here today I can categorically state that having to deal with this added dimension in my life has:
Fucked up my family, both as individuals and in relationship with one and other.
Fucked up my intimate relationships, because these types of experiences wreck so much havoc upon sexual dynamics.
Made me miss out on many educational and employment opportunities and has really skewed my relationship to the state, to society and to this culture.
I suppose my hope for being here today is to allow you the opportunity to hear what kind of effect this can have on the people who suffer through it, but also that maybe with this information you will go out into your chosen profession and help make a difference to stop the continued victimization of children both before and after they cross your paths.
Thanks for listening.
11/24/2010
another moment of regression for a city still trying to find itself.
congratulations toronto you have once again elected a fool as mayor.
i have and always will love this city, unfortunately i will have to spend the next four years shaking my head at the inanity coming out of cityhall.
i had hoped that we as a collective did not need to see more mean spirited, every motherfucker for themselves policy take control of such a diverse place, but colour me blinded by our obvious need to see that reflected back at us.
we live in a country of cowardly federal politics where a minority government has been slowly and methodically shifting us towards a caricature of the failed american empire, where the only real results will be more stupidity and international isolation, which given our strengths might not be a bad place to be in the end, but really people it would be nice if you woke the fuck up.
so i will spend the next period of time laughing, because anger and frustration will only lead to self-destruction.
i love you toronto, but wake the fuck up. so please sleep well tonight.

.
John Giorno – living poet and so much more
has been an inspiration to me
as a lover and user of words
for so many years now
reading his work is one thing
but when he performs it
it come to life in a way
that seems so obvious
but that hollow voice
in your mind
will never do it justice
sixteen years between
live sets
it was worth the wait
________________
when is a copy, an original?
so i’m sitting here
thinking of pithy words
and i’m sitting here
and they aren’t coming
so i reach down into
the depth of my essence
and i channel
the great poet
and i realize that i am not a poet
and i realize that i am not a photographer
for i am everything
for i am nothing
duality and
non-duality combined
i am i am
______________________
This is Not a Reading Series
October 12, 2010
at the Annex Live
book launch for Marcus Boon – In Praise of Copying
supported by John Giorno – Subduing Demons In America
* Public Enemy – Fight the Power

i scream soundlessly into a vacuum
hoping to drive the insanity away
though it never seems to work
as ghosts of past coworkers, former friends and lovers
haunt me in my own neighbourhood
(i actually saw four of them today)
but i cannot quite discern what it really means
my movement impaired by my own inactivity
a fear of something else?
or just the goddamned uncertainty of where to place
my feet, my mind, my heart?
i know i should have spoken to
the mocha beauty
whose path crossed mine
in the used bookstore today
but i honestly did not know what to say
do not know how to push myself outside myself
to allow me to live again
.
on the one hand I am all too aware that I set this all up from the beginning,
making choices to use material that I hadn’t used before, to create a series out of thin
air on the spur of the moment that doesn’t just utilize a singular theme and gets printed
on paper and put lovingly into common rectangular boxes surrounded by whiteness
and smothered in glass, that would be too easy to pull off, too easy to succeed at, too
simple to get one good show behind me to give me some confidence and feedback
because working in a vacuum is easy and provides zero opportunity to face the fear
of failure by putting myself out there (though there is no there) while having a self-
imposed feeling of failure in the grander scheme of things, so why not set it up in
such an obvious way that allows for me to either say fuck it and quit or it just gets so
goddamned tricky that failure is the outcome anyway, by printing photos with text
on stainless steel to fit into a bullshit artist statement written one night almost 5
months ago














