While checking Facebook for news updates, I came across a post at the top of my feed informing me that a friend had passed away. Feeling initially stunned, I clicked on the link and saw posts from her son and some of her friends. I first met Merri over 30 years ago when I sought relief from the swelling of a bee sting. During our conversation, I mentioned my training with a traditional Native American doctor (medicine man). In that moment, Merri said, “I want to try that.”

Despite being in psychotherapy for a decade, there were still years from her childhood that were completely blacked out. In her first session with me, she began to recover memories of being physically and sexually abused, and she started crying profusely. At the time, I was only in the early stages of my practice, and not knowing what else to do, I sat there caressing her back to comfort her. As we continued to work together, the traumatic wounds healed, and despite facing numerous challenges, she was able to build her own business. And throughout all these years, we stayed in touch.

Death in War and Life: A Personal Journey

During my early years, I didn’t lose too many people. I can only think of my grandfather, whom I lost when I was seven. Shortly before my fourteenth birthday, I found the body of my stepfather who died when the saw he was using to cut PCV pipe shorted out and electrocuted him. After moving to Oklahoma, where I lived among the Kiowa people, several of my peers died within just a few years. Then, at age 29, one of my best friends from high school died after being struck by a car. About ten years ago, after stopping into Whole Foods, I checked my phone and saw a notification from Facebook Messenger. The first words in the message from my half-sister were, “He died today.” I immediately jerked the phone away. As I slowly brought the screen back into view, I read the words, “He shot himself around 9:30 this morning.” That’s how I learned of my father’s suicide.

Spending time in Sri Lanka during its nearly thirty-year war brought me closer to the reality of death on a mass scale. On several occasions, I walked past the sites of bombings where people had died, one just minutes after the explosion. Smoke was still rising from the wreckage of a three-wheel taxi where a claymore mine had been remotely detonated. A number of my friends of mine survived the killing fields at the end of the war. A United Nations report from 2011 estimated that around 40,000 civilians, mostly Tamils, may have been killed during the final stages of the conflict. The International Crisis Group (ICG) and other human rights organizations have suggested that the death toll could be as high as 70,000.

No One Gets Out of Here Alive

The music we listen to, even the songs playing in the background during our childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood, becomes woven into the narrative of our lives and plays a significant role in shaping our worldview. Many of the recording artists who were part of the soundtrack of my youth—like Jimi Hendrix, John Lennon, George Harrison, Walter Becker, Frank Zappa, David Bowie, Freddie Mercury and Tom Petty—are no longer with us. Even though I now primarily listen to jazz and experimental music, the absence of these artists feels unsettling because they were such an integral part of my understanding of the world.

The phrase “no one here gets out of here alive” has been attributed to Doors vocalist Jim Morrison. I have worked to help a number of individuals, particularly those with end-stage cancer, make their transition, while others battling cancer have gone into remission.

One's time of death is not predetermined. A number of the elderly people I have worked with over the years either said to me or to the friend or family member who initially referred them that they didn't expect to be around much longer. It was obvious to me that some of these individuals were hanging on by a thread and could have transitioned at any point. I was always curious to see how much we could build these individuals back up during the sessions and extend their time on Earth. As a result of the sessions, they became more lucid, their bodies more resilient, and their lives more meaningful and productive. Quite a few of them went on to live another five, ten, fifteen, or more years.

One elderly Jewish man, Maurice, started working with me in his mid-seventies and continued to see me on a regular basis until his early nineties, when he moved out of senior housing to live with a younger brother. Shortly afterwards, one of his sons, who lived in Mumbai, India, brought his father to live with him. Maurice lived to the age of 96.

From Despair to Resilience

In my mid to late twenties, I found myself consumed by the overwhelmingly painful emotions that arose as I unwittingly reenacted the traumas of my childhood in my attempts to form intimate relationships. The pain was, at times, so excruciating, and my mind flooded with graphic suicidal imagery, that I didn’t want to live. Yet the words of some of my friends always stuck with me—words about those who had attained mastery in ancient spiritual traditions and spoke of people who were unable to cross over getting stuck between worlds. Some traditional Native American doctors were said to collect the souls of people who had died before their time. At certain intervals during the year, they would conduct special ceremonies to help these souls cross over.

The steps I had to take to heal my deep emotional wounds—breathing through the depths of the pain until I came out the other side, the sessions I did with gifted healers, and the many vision quests that involved fasting for four days and nights alone in the mountains without food or water—forced me to go to places that most people will never experience in their entire lives. Stripping away the superfluous layers that had been such a part of my identity put me in touch with the authentic core residing deep within. I emerged on the other side more resilient and with a greater capacity for empathy and compassion.

Family of Origin

We're each born into our family of origin, and our experience of being parented has a profound impact on the person we become. These experiences vary widely—some parents are loving, supportive, and understanding, instilling qualities like empathy, resilience, self-confidence, responsibility, and integrity. However, many of us were subjected to neglect or some combination of emotional, verbal, physical, or sexual abuse. I believe that most parents are doing the best they can with the resources they possess, though that's not always the case. Like anyone, our parents face their own challenges and have their off days. Often, there is an ambiguity in our relationships with them—loving and supportive in many ways, yet in other instances, they said or did things that were deeply wounding.

Most of us weren't taught how to effectively work with our emotions. Either we didn't know about or didn't have access to the therapeutic interventions that could facilitate the healing of our deep emotional wounds. As a result, much of the trauma and distressing emotions we couldn't digest remained trapped in our bodies. In many instances, our lives became a series of painful reenactments, with patterns that began in childhood becoming even more deeply entrenched. Even though we may not fully realize the extent—having numbed ourselves and disconnected from our authentic emotional responses—we contracted around these wounding experiences. This can have an incapacitating effect, preventing us from developing or accessing the resources we need to be fully functional. Ultimately, this hinders us from fully engaging with and living our lives.

Looking back, I sometimes feel a sense of regret as I reflect on the many missed opportunities. I can now see how I was contracted in so many ways, unable to fully engage with the people who were part of my life and the world around me at the time. We can never get back time once it's gone, yet I feel as though I've lived in a way that has allowed me to make up for lost time.

Fuel for Growth

Even if we suffer from childhood abuse or other forms of trauma, we always have a choice. Like so many others, we can choose to define ourselves by our suffering, contracting around these deeply wounding experiences. However, we also have the option to embrace these parts of our lived experience and see them as opportunities. For those of us who have faced adversity, the process of healing these deeply wounded parts of ourselves—and striving to access the resources and develop the capabilities necessary to live a meaningful life—offers a transformative path. It allows us to become truly exceptional. Through this transformation, we can use the insights, capabilities, and gifts that emerge to touch the lives of others and help guide them along their own journey.

Tapping Into the Generative Forces that Initiate New Cycles of Growth

As I observe people, looking deeply into their bodies and minds, I notice the natural generative cycles that drive us from infancy through early adulthood. During these stages, we are compelled to learn, explore, and develop new resources—constantly growing and adapting to the world around us. In infancy and childhood, this growth is rapid and instinctive, fueled by curiosity and necessity. Adolescence brings with it a surge of emotional, cognitive, and social development, while early adulthood offers us the chance to further refine our skills and sense of self. However, as we grow older, these generative processes begin to slow down. The drive to explore and push beyond our boundaries becomes less urgent, often replaced by a desire for stability and comfort. Yet, even in this slowing, I see opportunities for deeper introspection and the possibility of transformation—if we remain open to the idea of continual growth.

As we grow older, many of us seek comfort, becoming more resistant to change. This resistance often intensifies when we carry unresolved trauma or distressing emotions trapped within our bodies, causing us to contract. Whenever we attempt to push beyond our limitations, it stirs up the buried trauma and emotions we’ve long held inside. Many of the resources we need to continue growing remain inaccessible—either because we haven’t developed those capacities or because accumulated stress and unprocessed emotions have disconnected us from our inner core, the higher power, and the generative forces that initiate new cycles of growth. As a result, we often become bound by these limitations, stunted in our growth, and stagnant, unable to tap into the deeper potential for healing and transformation that would compel us to keep evolving.

Reconnecting with the Sacred

In our modern world, so much emphasis is placed on youth, physical beauty, and material wealth. How well one does financially is often seen as the ultimate measure of success. In the past, we were primarily influenced by our family, friends, and members of our communities. While that still happens, we’re now exposed to a never-ending stream of advertisements and influencers, that are continually shaping our mindset and overall outlook on life. The problem with this model is that beauty fades, we all grow old, and our money and material possessions ultimately provide little lasting fulfillment. In fact, once beauty fades and people grow older, they often find themselves isolated and feeling cut off.

Among Native Americans, both life and death were seen as part of a greater continuum of existence. In many ways, it felt as though the veil between worlds was thinner, with a sense of being connected to one's forebearers, whose presence could often be felt. Native life largely revolved around ceremonial practices, such as the Sun Dance, which invoked the assistance of other forces or beings. Through these ceremonies, there was a deep feeling of connection to something greater than oneself, a recognition that life extended beyond the physical world and was intertwined with the spiritual realm.

Among other indigenous groups and ancient cultures, as well as within various spiritual traditions, there is also a strong sense of connection to the ancestors and also the invocation of other forces or beings. It's common to hear accounts of individuals transitioning at the end of their lifetime, only to reincarnate in another body, continuing the cycle of existence.

During the time I was training with Shifu Li Tai Liang in Xin Yi Quan and Baguazhang, we often had lengthy conversations. At one point, he shared a Taoist perspective that resonated deeply with me. He explained that when we come into this life, and along the way we experience traumas, and our bodies hold on to emotions like anger, resentment, hurt, and sadness. When people don’t heal the deeply wounded parts of themselves, they become weighed down by these emotions. At the end of our lives, if we haven’t resolved these burdens, we leave parts of ourselves behind. This causes the soul to devolve. However, as we heal and transform our suffering, we evolve to a higher level, and this development carries over when we cross to the other side. As we progress, we are born into a new life here on Earth, carrying the growth we’ve achieved.

Somehow, I instinctively knew to dive into the depths of all the painful emotions that surfaced in my mid-twenties. At a certain point, I could feel the pain breaking open and then coming out of my body in waves. Along with this release, I began to sense these powerful emanations flowing from within, accompanied by a growing sense of connectedness to a higher power. Much has changed over the years—I'm no longer in such a vulnerable space—yet I continue the practice of breathing deeply into any feelings or physical sensations that arise. As I strip away the layers, I can feel the authentic core within me growing stronger, and I find myself feeling more connected to the greater continuum of existence.

Cherishing the People Who Shape Our Journey

Looking back over my life, one of my biggest regrets is how I took the people who were a part of my life for granted. I lost touch with three Japanese women I spent a lot of time with in college, a former roommate, and other valuable friends over the years. During the time I apprenticed with Horace, hardly anyone knew where I was, largely because many Kiowas and other Native Americans were critical, believing that the “medicine” only worked for those born Native. At one point, when I traveled back to Oklahoma with Horace, we stopped by the home of Jack, the elderly Kiowa man who first brought me into the peyote meetings. During our visit, Jack emphatically said to me, “We've missed you!” I never saw Jack again, but I reconnected with his family years later. There are so many things I wish I could talk with him about, and I deeply regret not being there during his last years. Over time, as I've become much more embodied, I’ve come to realize that our relationships with the people who play a part in our lives are some of the most important things. Now, I strive to be more present and appreciative.

Opening Yourself to the Possibility of Love

Many people hold back from expressing their interest in someone or their desire for more out of fear of rejection. Yes, rejection can hurt, but to the best of our ability, it's important to learn how to engage—to test the waters, express our interest, and show our desire to get to know someone better, spend time with them, or become more intimate. We also need to be mindful of the other person, sensing their receptivity or lack thereof. If they aren’t able to reciprocate, we must respect their feelings and boundaries. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least you'll know. And who knows, maybe it will.

Another mistake I made in the past was trying to hold onto a relationship, a partner, or someone I wanted to be with, even when they were hurtful, abusive, unavailable, disinterested, or when the relationship simply wasn’t working. By avoiding the pain and trying to make it work, while suppressing the emotions I was so desperate not to feel, I only prolonged my suffering.

It can hurt terribly when someone breaks up with us, ghosts us, is unfaithful, or says and does things that cause pain. If they’re not reciprocating, or if they’re saying or doing things that trigger feelings of rejection, hurt, longing, or fear of loss, it’s critically important to step out of our fantasies and acknowledge the reality of the situation. Breathing softly and deeply through all those feelings helps us “digest” our heartache and process the emotions attached to it.

Combining this practice with effective therapeutic healing interventions—such as deep tissue bodywork, sessions with gifted healers, and numerous vision quests—enabled me to transform the suffering of my heartbreak. It greatly increased my capacity to love and be loved. Those who work with me individually often experience a similar transformation, healing the deep emotional wounds, letting go of relationships that aren’t working, and attracting companions with whom they can establish deeper, more meaningful, and fulfilling connections.

Saying What Needs to Be Said

It’s important to express ourselves and what we're truly feeling, rather than holding everything inside. Clearing the air allows for a deeper understanding of ourselves and others, while also helping us to grow closer. At the same time, it’s crucial to find the balance between being open and being tactful and considerate. Just as vital is knowing when communication is futile—recognizing when it’s best to walk away rather than continue engaging with someone who cannot or will not hear you.

Another key aspect of healthy relating is learning to assert your basic needs while still considering the needs of others. These needs can include emotional support, respect, clear communication, and personal space. For example, you might need to express your desire for more quality time together or set boundaries around how you wish to be spoken to. It’s essential to advocate for yourself while also listening and responding to the needs of those around you, striking a balance that encourages mutual respect and understanding.

It’s not just about saying what needs to be said or asserting our needs; we also need to be willing to give in return. Healthy relationships are built on reciprocity, so while I make sure to express my needs, I also keep in mind how I can contribute and give back to the other person. Whether it's offering emotional support, actively listening, or being there for them in times of need, it’s important to maintain a balance of giving and receiving.

Face the Issues Head On and Feel the Feelings

One of the most disempowering things many of us are guilty of is failing to deal with the issues that need to be addressed. Facing challenges head-on is crucial for both personal growth and maintaining healthy relationships. Avoiding or pretending that problems don’t exist only allows them to escalate, often leading to greater stress, misunderstandings, and pain down the road. By confronting issues as they arise, we gain clarity and can work toward resolution. Approaching life with a solution-oriented mindset builds inner strength and resilience, empowers us to create meaningful change, and encourages greater accountability. Whether in romantic, familial, friendship, or professional relationships, addressing issues openly creates a foundation of honesty, while deepening trust.

It’s essential for us to learn how to work effectively with our emotions because avoiding them often leads to more damaging consequences, such as psychological distress and the perpetuation of our dysfunctional patterns. This avoidance can also make us more prone to accidents and injury and eventually manifest as illness or disease within our bodies. Whenever we deny or suppress our feelings out of fear of vulnerability, pain, or losing control, we're disconnecting from ourselves. This avoidance can stem from societal or cultural norms that discourage emotional expression, or from a lack of knowledge on how to process emotions in a healthy way. While numbing or avoiding emotions might provide temporary relief, it often leads to additional stress, misunderstandings, and unresolved issues down the road. By learning to work effectively with our authentic emotional responses, we gain clarity, build resilience, and cultivate deeper, more meaningful connections with ourselves and others.

What Can I Be Doing With The Time I Have Left

As we move through life, our perception of time shifts dramatically. In our teens, we often feel invincible, with endless opportunities stretching before us. Time seems abundant, and it’s easy to imagine there’s always more to come. However, as the years pass, this sense of boundless time begins to fade. The pace of life quickens, responsibilities increase, and the realization that time is finite starts to sink in.

For many of us, this shift triggers an urgency to reassess our lives, leading us to questions like, “What can I be doing of value with the time I have left?” This isn’t just a practical question, but a deeply existential one. We begin to wonder how we can make the most of our days, not just in terms of achievements, but in terms of purpose and fulfillment. The focus shifts from accumulating accomplishments to making a meaningful contribution that has a lasting impact.

For me, the question of “What meaningful contribution can I make while I’m still here?” is ever-present. It’s not just about success in the traditional sense but about leaving behind something of worth. It’s about using the time we have left to create value, not only for ourselves but for the people and world around us. This line of thinking prompts us to consider the quality of the time we spend, not just the quantity, and motivates us to align our actions with our deepest values.

As the awareness of time’s fleeting nature intensifies, it compels us to prioritize what truly matters, shedding distractions and superficial pursuits in favor of actions and contributions that resonate with our core selves and the legacy we hope to leave behind.

What Can You Be Doing to Make A Difference?

Sometimes it’s frustrating; I’ve wanted to walk away when people are flaky or seem indifferent. But then, there are those who have genuinely benefited from my work—their bodies and deep emotional wounds healed, and their lives transformed. Writing these articles and recording videos gives me the opportunity to share the insights and practices I’ve developed during my time here on the planet, passing them onto future generations. It’s my way of making a lasting impact, long after I’m gone.

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the demands of modern life or the pressure to succeed, but meaningful contributions often come from acts of kindness and empathy. Here are some ways you can live a more meaningful and fulfilling life:

Adopting a shelter cat or dog not only changes their life but also adds companionship and purpose to yours. Being a mentor—whether offering guidance in school, life skills, or emotional support to a child or adolescent—can profoundly impact both their future and your own sense of contribution. Strive to be fully present in your relationships by showing appreciation, listening actively, and engaging deeply with the people who matter most. Life is fleeting, and deepening your connections brings fulfillment. Volunteering your time, talents, or resources to causes you care about creates a ripple effect of positive change. Reflect on the areas of your life that need healing or growth, and seek out tools, mentors, or spiritual practices that support your personal development. Whether through therapy, meditation, or creative expression, investing in your inner world enables you to contribute outwardly. Finally, record your thoughts and insights, and pass on your lessons to the next generation—whether through writing, teaching, or meaningful conversations. What you share today may profoundly impact someone’s life, either in the here and now or somewhere down the road.

Another key to living a meaningful life is pursuing your passions, whether it’s the work you love or something you’ve always wanted to try. This could mean taking steps toward a career that aligns with your values or finally giving yourself the freedom to explore a creative pursuit. It’s equally important to embrace opportunities for adventure—whether through traveling to new places or even living in locations you’ve always dreamed of experiencing. Spending time with the people who matter most, especially those with whom you share a deep connection, is invaluable as it brings fulfillment that enriches both your life and theirs.

Ultimately, living a meaningful life isn’t about grand gestures or worldly success. It’s about how we touch the lives of others, how we contribute in both big and small ways, and how we cultivate compassion, love, and understanding while we’re still here. Living with integrity—staying true to ourselves and our values—ensures that our actions align with who we truly are. Continually striving to learn, grow, and remain authentic allows us to leave a legacy that isn’t measured by material possessions, but by the impact we’ve made on the lives of others.

©Copyright 2024 Ben Oofana. All Rights Reserved.

When you’re ready, I have 3 ways I can help you to heal your heartache and attract more love into your life and cocreate more meaningful and deeply fulfilling relationships.
1. Click here to grab your free copy of my eBook – The Essentials Of Getting Over Your Breakup And Moving On
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3. Work with me individually: Are you experiencing chronic health issues that no one has been able to help you with? Are you dealing with persistent emotions that are taking you out of the game of life? Are you in the midst of a breakup, struggling with patterns of abandonment or unrequited love, or facing challenges in your current relationship? Ready to break through existing limitations and unearth the inner resources you need to overcome challenges and realize your true potential? If any of these resonate with you and you're seeking personalized guidance and support, and would like to work directly with me, email me at ben@benoofana.com. For a faster response, call me at (332) 333-5155.