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Mr. Justin Schwind's Story - Say The Truth & Not Blame The Truth, & It Will Set You Free - Chapter 1A: "Wandering The Wilderness Of Trauma"

Disclaimer: Mr. Justin Schwind is a personal Samson Society friend who resides in AZ. He was kind enough to agree to document his story in several installments. This is the first.

Trauma was explained to me as an emotional response to a distressing experience in life.  So to start this story of my life, it all started with a distressing experience as I came out of my mother when she birthed me.  I had poor oxygen, and they had to place me in the NICU for two weeks, and my trust in comfort and humanity was damaged at the start.  This all took place on an island in Galveston, Tx, so YES, I am a Texas native.  No one's fault in this matter; it's just how the cookie crumbles.  

I was the oldest, so let it be known that my parents had no idea what the heck they were doing.  It always seems to be that way as you learn from your mistakes and those mistakes allow you to be more aware, if you get a shot at it again.  Growing up into trauma, let's just say I had a need for attachment, and that was not my mother's thing.  She quit breastfeeding me at 6 weeks because she couldn't produce, and she wasn't patient enough to keep trying along with supplementing. 

After having my own kids, I have seen the value of long-term breastfeeding via the connection and soothing of the child, especially the bonding element of it.  I also was a colicky baby, and bless my mother and how she did not lose her mind in the process.  The doctor, in his/her best understanding, told my mom to let me cry it out; so she did, and I did. I cried and cried and cried.  There was no space to be secure, soothed, seen, or safe, just more room for abandonment.  When I was two years old, my mom and dad went up to St Louis, MO to visit good friends and hauled me along with them.  My parents were staying at their friend's parents' house.  The kicker was the room my parents were occupying, during the stay, was a renovated detached garage into an extra bedroom.  Great place to really have peace from the rest of the house, but not so much the best space for a 2-year-old to be left alone. 

One night they decided to go out together while their good friends stayed home in case something happened to me. My parents laid me on the bed to sleep prior to going out to have fun.  At some point after they were gone, I woke up and found myself all alone, having no idea what to do.  I remember climbing down from the bed and going to the door and finding it locked.  I was trapped, and tears began to pour down my face prior to me banging, with all my might, on the door hoping to find rescue from the outside.  After a period of time, I gave up, all alone and broken.  I decided to find the safest place in the room which, for a 2-year-old, was under the bed.  Once I settled into a ball, I cried myself to sleep, only to awaken to my parents finding me and comforting me.  This was the first traumatic experience I can remember happening and continuing the cycle of abandonment relative to me finding coping methods to soothe myself.  To this day, I can't sleep with my door closed at night because of the anxiety it presents to me.  To top it off, to this day, my mother still pokes and makes fun of me for that and states it wasn't that big of a deal.  Right or wrong, own your mistakes and don't entice a distressing experience for anyone as it just creates a festering of the original experience.  

One of the next biggest traumatic experiences I had during the early days of my life I feel truly sealed the deal on fracturing my trust with others, especially ones I loved.  I was around three, and my father had built me a kid's dream house of a playhouse, and it was also kind of "several broken bones" waiting to happen.  My father literally built it amongst the trees in the backyard - 15ft high.  I was 3-years-old, and I now had a playground amongst the skies (that would take some getting used to). 

My dad constructed the slide using stainless sheet metal, which no doubt would work well due to us living in a coastal town of Hitchcock, Texas.  That being said, there was an apparent problem with the current state of the slide. Its sides had not been secured, and the exposed sheet metal edge was still exposed.  At this point I had amassed enough courage to climb the 15-foot treehouse in the sky with the aid of my mother (with her following after).  I made it to the top, and I thought I was on top of the world!  You know the saying though, what goes up, must come down.  Keep in mind that I had to ride that stainless beast down at a 45-degree angle with my dad waiting at the end. 

I came up to the edge and braced myself, and simply couldn’t do it.  There was too much fear in my heart of what could possibly happen.  So that led to my father's impatience and rage.  Yes I had a father that loved me, but he also had anger and rage that painted a sense of intense hatred for me. 

Now at age three, all I could do was break down to someone I absolutely didn't trust. From there, I was screamed at to "Do it or else!".  My mother, waiting at the top of the slide, was also hesitant because she could feel the fear looming in the air.  Out of blind fear and giving the last ounce of trust I had at that young age, I proceeded to slide 20 feet down that 45 degree sheetmetal slope.  But this is the catch that sent my trust out the window.  I'd placed my hands on the outer sides of the slide. Sides that had not been folded over. Instead, there were two sharpened blades. Like a hot knife through butter, my 3-year-old hands went.  When I was at the end, there was a lot of blood, tears, gaslighting by my father, and a trip to the ER which resulted in numerous stitches that took several months to heal.  From then on, I was no longer going to fully let go. It was simply too risky for my childhood self.

"Pity The Fool" As You Yourself Were Once Pitied. You Just Might Usher Them Into Samson Society As A Result.

As an architect, I'm qualified to design buildings and to review proposed designs in an effort to provide guidance / adherence to a plan's feasibility (both aesthetically & functionally).  In summary, my training puts me in a position of authority regarding building design.  Pure & simple.

Currently, my income doesn't come from architecting, though I am still using my training on a voluntary basis.  Within our Reservoir 'hood, I serve the homeowners' association board as "Architectural Review" committee chairman.  This affords me the privilege of adjudicating R & R and new planned construction (which is rare) within prior to it commencing.

Last year, one such adjudication request came my way.  Hence, my fellow committee members and I paid a visit to the homeowner in order to review, on site, some color samples relative to an ongoing home rebuild (that had sustained fire / smoke damage +/-3 months prior).  After politely scheduling a date / time, it was apparent that the mid-30s man obviously lived alone, having no doubt recently divorced, and as such, was overseeing the reconstruction remotely during the tail end of the pandemic.  He was very cooperative with the review procedures, and thankful even for our time / input (versus seeing it as a burdensome nuisance).

Post adjudication, we turned to leave, and from there, he insisted we circle back once the restoration / renovation was complete in order to have a grand tour of the finished product.

And I made a mental note to do so.

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Yesterday afternoon, (3/27), I knocked on my neighbor's door whilst admiring the gleaming newness of his home's recently renovated exterior.  He answered with a slightly surprised countenance (it had been 6-9 months since our previous juncture).  I told him I'd stopped by a few times before, only to find no one home.  And there was some truth to that.  For I had walked down to his cul-de-sac once, only to see his full-size pickup absent from his driveway.

As I stepped inside, I was not surprised to find that his renovated home was over-the-top Chip and Joanna Gaines' farmhouse chic (as it seems everything within the Southeast is these days).  Hence, it was current to the nth degree, looking perfectly ready for its Magnolia photo shoot.

At the same time though, there was a sadness there.  For he'd made an overabundance of "to hell with it" design moves that were no doubt rebelliously enacted (to the chagrin of Joanna).  Those consisted of both the "Deer head wall mount wall" and the full-size billiards table (where the dining room table should have been).  Not to mention the gargantuan flat screen TV mounted on the rear of the freshly painted garage (it was his extra one!?!).  

I didn't want to linger as he showed me around (I even got to see the massive luxury shower within the master bath).  Overstaying my welcome is one hiccup I work hard to avoid.   

We shook hands, and I headed out for my weekend run, ready to take advantage of the glorious Spring weather.  

As a coda though, I did send him a text message later on that evening, feeling obliged to apologize for not remembering his name during our time together earlier that day.  We both laughed about getting older, etc. before I thanked him again via the magic of my pocket computer.

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As I lay in bed last night, I kept remembering the underlying sadness that I'd surprisingly encountered during my afternoon walkthrough.  That dark emotion that simply hadn't been renovated out of that structure.  

It was a sadness that was rooted in loss and shame.  Regret and defeat.  For this guy was / is military.  Built like a tank.  With the shaved head and everything.  He's exponentially masculine.  Hence, the sadness was no doubt well-hidden underneath his gladiator-ness facade, yet it was definitely there. 

So what do I do in response to my concern?  How might I overcome the intimidation factor long enough to get to know him better (in hopes of becoming / gaining a friend)?  

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During the February regional Samson Society retreat, every man shared prepared-in-advance stories of both harm and blessing.  The latter for me was centered on a cherished experience I had in high school.  Afterwards, my old friend & former Silas, made a statement that is still resonating with Rob.  And that statement was centered on how he truly saw me versus how I saw myself (the void).  As a result, I felt like I'd been hit by a bolt of lightning in spite of the insulating factors brought on by the group setting (+/-15 men in the room).  

Essentially, he directly affirmed my masculinity via his understanding of who I am / have always been within his eyes.

Even as I write this, I can easily circuit into that emotional surge, still lingering within my psyche.  

What a blessing via the influence of old, old friendships!

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Here's to my attempts to circle back successfully - one more time - in order to minister to a neighbor that I'm assuming is in need of friendship.

Man, I hope my pool-playing skills quickly resurface.  For as you all know, deer hunting is most definitely not my thing.

Mississippi Rob's Pilot Facilitator Role Within The "Make Thursdays Great Again" Virtual Samson Society Meeting

Thursday, (3/31) at 7 PM CST is when the "Make Thursdays Great Again" virtual Samson Society meeting takes place.  The meeting facilitator, Mr. Justin Schwind, is located in Arizona, and he is a phenomenal virtual meeting facilitator.  Justin's persona is ideal for Zoom.  He's energetic, outspoken, and consistently engaging as the host.  

I initially met Justin at a Samson Society National Retreat years ago, and was immediately taken aback by his love for this community of men.  As such, had I not met him there, it's unlikely I would have transitioned from the Jackson, Mississippi Samson Society groups to virtual.  For Justin gave me hope that I could find just as relevant a community therein as I had here locally (ever since 2014).

And I have, thanks to my commitment to the "Make Thursdays Great Again" group for the past +/-4 months.   

What's fun about all of this virtual Samson Societying is how it allows God to use one's story outside the confines of the Magnolia State.  

I am a bit nervous about facilitating on Thursday, (3/31), but overall, I know Mr. Justin Schwind's shoes are, no doubt, certainly not too big for Rob to fill.

I covet your prayers regarding this endeavor, and thanks so much for reading.

Samson Society - The "No Bull" Briefing - March 2022

 

THE NO BULL BRIEFING - March 2022 We Have Merch! We are excited to announce that Samson Society now has a merchandise store with items ranging from drinkware to apparel and accessories. Visit the store today and show your Pirate Monk pride! Don't see what you want? More items will be added to the store soon, so drop us a line to let us know what you'd like to see available for sale.  Share Your Samson Story Nate Larkin is working on the second edition of Samson and the Pirate Monks.  This revised and expanded edition will feature dozens of real stories contributed by members of the Samson Society. Nate is looking for brothers who are willing to add their own redemption story to the collection.  Here are the guidelines: Each story must be a true account of personal experience Each story should focus on a single crisis, issue, breakthrough, or insight Stories should be 750-1500 words in length Submissions will be edited for clarity and brevity Authors may give their real name or choose to be anonymous. If you are willing to share the lessons of your experience with readers around the world, drop a line today to submissions@samsonhouse.org and let us know that you intend to participate. The Story of Trying a Triad When I went to my first Samson Society meeting I knew what I was getting into, but I was reluctant to engage in a Silas relationship. I had two tapes playing in my head: “Check in every day?! C’mon, you can’t even talk to God every day. You’ll never be able to do it. You’ll be marked as a non-compliant wanna-be.” And the other one went something like this: “You don’t need a Silas. You can do this on your own. Just keep this between you and God. Anyway, how’s that guy going to help, he’s here for the same reason you are.”  Okay, full disclosure, I was partially right on the first one - I suck at daily check-ins, but I was dead wrong about the possibility of recovery without a Silas. The Silas relationship isn’t a recovery option, it is an essential. Once I swallowed hard and asked Walt to be my Silas, I discovered why it is central to the Samson Path. That said, after a few years of check-ins, irregular as they may have been, I was wanting more, looking for some sort of next step in my recovery. I discovered Walt was too.  I wondered if adding a third and making it a triad of Silases might be that little something extra - you know, that cord of three strands thing. My thought was to increase availability, accountability, and add another perspective. Maybe that would spice things up a bit and enhance all of our recovery efforts. There would be no Silee, we would each function as Silas/Silee with each other, all responsible for daily check-ins. We decided to give it a go and we added Lonnie. Now after two years of doing a Silas Triad we can confidently affirm it works. Here are the takeaways from our Silas Triad experiment: • It is a good enhancement after a year or two of the traditional model. Our reasoning is it takes a while to get used to checking in with a Silas, trust the system, and value the process. Before it gets stale, switch to the triad. • It is harder to fall into a rut of same-old-same-old check-ins. • It is harder to BS two guys. • The shared wisdom of three is far more impactful. • When one is struggling, the encouragement of two is also more impactful. • One out of the three will always be available, making an in-the-heat-of-the-moment live check-in more doable. After some trial-and-error, we settled in on daily three-way text check-ins (we still fail at “daily” but grace abounds), an extended phone call every 2-3 weeks, and an in-person get-together once a quarter-ish, either at a local restaurant or one of our backyard fire pits because we live relatively close to one another. The traditional check-in model is: "This is what I'm feeling...thinking...doing...and thinking of doing." We have modified that, adding ND (which stands for “not doing”), Trig (which stands for “triggers”), and PFM (which is, how you can “Pray For Me”). Here’s what a typical text check-in will look like: → F - I’m feeling tired and stressed → T - about how far behind I am at work → D - nothing bad but last night I was SO close to the ditch → ToD - checkin in with you guys more frequently - I need it → ND - I need to call when I’m super tempted but I don’t → Trig - girls at work in spring dresses AARRGH! → PFM - relational warmth between my wife and me More often than not the text check-in takes about 90 seconds and responses about 30 seconds just to let the sender know he's been heard. Longer feedback is always appreciated. The periodic three-way phone call takes about 60 minutes, and the get-together is an evening. If your Silas relationship is getting stale, or if you’ve cycled through several Silases, try the Silas Triad, it just might do the trick.  Drop me a line with questions and feedback. If I get enough I’ll update everyone in a future NBB: Tom Moucka, tom@samsonhouse.org Ciao Amico! Do you sometimes find yourself acting or reacting in immature ways? Does conflict with your partner sometimes degenerate into childish language or behavior? In this retreat, Nate Larkin and Kaka Ray will explore what it takes to "grow up" into free and fully integrated adulthood, capable of connecting deeply with another person. Join us in Italy from October 7-9, 2022, for a weekend retreat. Find out more information or save your spot today by clicking here. Regional Retreat Opportunities Planning a regional Samson retreat? Let us know at samsonhouseoffice@gmail.com or drop it on the #upcoming_event channel on Slack so we can help you spread the word! 2023 Mega Retreat Team The planning for our 2023 Mega Retreat is under way, but we can still use your help! Let us know if you are interested in volunteering on any of the following crews: Location Crew  Registration Crew Transportation Crew Set-Up Crew A/V Crew Communications Crew Swag Crew Talent Crew Sales & Marketing Crew Email us at samsonhouseoffice@gmail.com and be a part of making history for Samson! Also: Mark your calendars for this year's annual men's retreat! It will be in Eva, Tennessee the first weekend in November. We hope to see you there. Monthly Resource Corner Each month, Samson Society will promote a resource that you may find helpful on your journey. Feel free to share any podcast episodes, blog posts, books, or documentaries that you find enlightening! Email us at samsonhouseoffice@gmail.com. In a world in which we experience such deep desire and such great grief, we find coursing through all of it our unquenchable longing to be known. The Being Known podcast, hosted by Dr. Curt Thompson and Pepper Sweeney, is a podcast about forming deep relationships, discovering meaning and living with integrated creativity. The new series that launched a few weeks ago, focuses on looking at trauma through the lens of hope instead of fear.⁠ Hope for those who know what trauma is up close and personal, as well as for those who may have little to no idea that they have encountered it, let alone that others have. And that hope is ultimately to be found in Jesus, who appears to have made it his mission to redeem trauma wherever he finds it. ⁠Part of that redemptive process includes our telling the story of trauma as truly as we can—so that evil doesn’t get to have the last word. ⁠ Give it a listen and discover what it means to be truly known, exploring the intersection of interpersonal neurobiology (IPNB) and Christian spiritual formation.  The podcast is available to listen on any of the following platforms: Apple Podcasts Amazon Music Spotify Stitcher Support Samson House Year-Round The end-of-year matching fundraiser was a phenomenal success! However, as Samson House continues to grow and expand our reach, our budgetary needs continue to expand as well. Monthly giving helps keep us afloat throughout the year. Consider supporting Samson House by pledging a monthly gift. Give $54 a month and you will receive a coffee mug in the mail and the rights to boldly assert your membership to our Mug Club! If your current giving makes you a member of the mug club, but you have yet to receive a mug in the mail from us, please contact us and we will correct this oversight. DONATE