The People in my Hips at MRT last Spring was awesome.  With the new ending recounted in these pages.  My sister and my brother attended.  It was pretty wild.  I could hear them weeping in the audience.  Awesomely wonderful.  Show was again a big success.

Manhattan Rep has moved to a new space (a long and crazy story - maybe one day I will blog about it.) Manhattan Rep now is a flex space so I am hoping to start teaching ENERGY YOGA there.  It is a Yoga practice I have developed to help balance and release the wacky energy we hold in our bodies. Hoping to put up another production of The People in my Hips in April with the announcement of ENERGY YOGA at MRT.  I will keep you posted.

I still am amazed at how I have changed because of the People in my Hips.  There is this wonderful sense of peace and security that I now have in just being me.  I am not as dramatic about life - I live it and I simply deal for the most part with the goofy stuff.  And my Yoga practice is still so special, balancing me, making me smile more and making me just feeling better overall.  

I attended a AERIAL YOGA workshow where everyone hangs from silk slings like in Cirque du Soleil and I have to tell you, for a chronicalogically aging man, I did GREAT. Most of the class was 20 to 25 years younger and I totally kept up.  It was a great affirmation of Yoga and what it has done for me across the board.

Hopefully, one day I will teach Aerial Yoga, but we are definitely getting a sling at MRT so I can hang upside down before I go on stage in The People in my Hips!  (Love it!)

Anyway, I will keep you posted more often about all.  It has been a long time, but a really good time.

Namaste!

Ken

We are opening Wednesday April 6 and then playing Friday April 8 and Saturday April 9, all at 7 pm.  Hopefully, there will be demand so we can extend it on-going.

I am totally rewriting the play and adding the NEW ending.  It is going to be awesome.  I am very excited.

Just yesterday I photoshopped the new People in my Hips logo.  I love it.

Check out THE DARK MAN and BABY KEN on the Logo.  And I look pretty cool as Shiva, huh?

When I look at this, I have to say, it affects me.  The Dark Man's photo is adapted a bit and changed, but this is the God honest truth, I really used his image.  That's him from over 40 years ago.  Wow, the wonder of the Internet.  Scary too.

So why did I make this choice, to use his image?  Because this is a true story.  I can't announce his name for I really don't have proof, but a part of me feels everyone who comes to my show should see this man's evil face.

I guess I am not that enlightened to forgive him.  I probably never will.  But I don't hate him.  He is dead.  I am sure he has paid for his RAGE and EVIL 1000 times over in his lifetime.  That is just how it works.

But the good news is I FORGIVE MYSELF for making whatever choices that led me down that road so many years ago.  I am so damned happy being healed, and also, so damned happy that I finally know the truth about one of the major events which contributed to my crazy PTSD and the People in my Hips.

Ain't life Grand?

Happy New Year!

The Good news is The People in my Hips (the Play) is returning this Spring now that I have a new ending, and Oprah is finishing her show so I have got to move my butt.  

I just put together a new trailer with some new footage. Check it out and let me know what you think.  

Every time I look at this footage, I am frightened and amazed.

Wishing you all good stuff for the New Year!

I was originally going to go to the bigger Starbucks in Marmaroneck for I had a hole in my schedule and I could do some work on my laptop but I decided on a whim to go to the little and nearer Starbucks in Rye Brook to save some time.

As I was parking, I saw her.  My sister Margie getting out of her Honda Civic.  Bizarre.  Whenever I met her it was always at the Starbucks in Rye.  She was here unexpectedly, and so was I.  This was not an accident.  It was time to learn more.

“Ken, I have more for you.  I remembered more in therapy.  Do you want to hear?”

“Yes, I do. I really do.”

My younger sister Margie was my WATCHER.  During our conversation here at Starbucks in Rye Ridge, NY, 15 minutes ago, she gave me permission to reveal her identity.

“So I have remembered more. I knew there was a piece missing.  There was one place where I would get nauseous whenever I would relive it in therapy.  How could I know he had squinty eyes if I was so far away when I saw him beating you?  That was the question that was driving me crazy.”

Since our meeting in the park when she first revealed to me that she was witness to my beating with an aluminum baseball bat by THE DARK MAN, she has been obsessed about remembering and actually traveled up to our old home in Yorktown where all this took place so many years ago.  In the process of retracing her steps, she actually ran into the grandson of THE DARK MAN and had a conversation with him!  What happened to her 40 years ago for the most part was very very real now, with just few holes in her consciousness.

“After I saw him beating you and he saw me, I ran. I didn’t know what to do. And then I was grabbed by someone. I turned. It was his wife! “Your brother has been a bad boy, a very bad boy. You can’t tell anyone, you will get hurt if you do.” She screamed. I pulled away and ran.  I was at the curb now, and my shoe got stuck in the sewer drain there, and fell off and I ran away without it.  I ran up the block. I didn’t know what to do.  Now here is the part, that has been dark, where I would always get nauseous, every time we would do the therapy, I would get nauseous.  But I remember now, not totally, but I remember now.”

And then she told me how THE DARK MAN, when he saw her must have run up behind our house and cut her off, and then confronted her.  

“He was like an animal, he was so mad, like an animal, and that is when I saw his squinty eyes.  That is when I saw them, those eyes, those squinty eyes, that is when I saw them.”

He then must have shoved her down on to the ground, telling her not to tell anyone.  (I must have been unconscious while this was going on.)  Then somehow, she doesn’t remember yet, she was able to get away and run, and then with only one shoe, she ran up the block, across backyards and then down a cul de sac where she hid in the bushes in fear.  About a half hour later, she slowly walked back frightened out of her mind to see if I was ok.  From down the block, she saw me slowly walking up the lawn from the DARK MAN’s house to our house.  I was alive.  She then followed me up, and went in the back door to our house and curled up in a ball on the couch, never talking to me about it, or at least that is the case in her memory now.

Walking up to the house is one memory that kept reoccurring in me during my People in my Hips journey.  Walking up to the house thinking “ I can’t tell anyone about this. HE WILL KILL ME IF I DO.  I HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET or I will die.”  

That is when my unconscious mind made the choice to make me forget.

I am sitting here in Starbucks weeping…

40 years later. How many times has my unconscious mind caused me to forget in 40 years?

How much of my reality and self image are real, or has my mind been picking and choosing to erase events so that I can function and feel good about myself?

That is a crazy ass question.  I am not going there.  Not today.

Margie had to run to work, but before that I had her plot out the path she ran on a make shift map I drew with a Red Sharpie on a Starbucks napkin.

“This was the most incredible thing I have ever experienced.” She said softly.

“Me too.”

We are connected now. Profoundly connected.  Her story brings validity and truth to mine, and mine to hers.

Even her therapist, who viewed this site and all the videos, said that it seemed like both of us were telling the SAME story, that was somehow lost in our unconscious minds.

When Margie was in Yorktown, retracing her steps, when she talked with the GRANDSON of THE DARK MAN, she discovered that THE DARK MAN divorced his first wife, and remarried.  The woman who grabbed her to protect her CRAZY HUSBAND, was not the woman who was widowed when the DARK MAN died in the car accident in 2006.  His first wife, THE DARK WOMAN, was still alive.  She was 76 and she still lived in Yorktown.

“ I think we should go and talk with her.” I said tentatively.

“I don’t know.”

“ I think we should.”

“Let’s talk.  I gotta run.”

We hugged, a long silent hug.

I am sitting here wondering what I should do.  Part of me loves the idea of talking with this woman for it could be an amazing closure and completion of this story, but part of me is frightened, the child part of me, the part of me that split off and became Baby Ken living in my hips.

I can’t go back there.  I won’t.  I never want to ever be in that place again. That place where I battled the DEMONS inside.

But I want to know more.

I will keep you posted.

It has been a lot to process.  Just amazing.  Here it is.

---------------

We met at Starbucks and then went for a walk down by the library and sat together on a wooden green bench. It was so bizarre.  How could this person know?  It was 40 years ago when the DARK MAN perpetrated his madness on me and 40 years ago when I locked that traumatic memory deep in my subconscious mind and in the muscles of my body.   How could this person know?  I didn’t even know and I was there. I have sifted through the sand of my unconscious for years. All I have are brief frightening images, (trees, a porch, a balding man, being so scared to tell anyone for fear I would be murdered) and the crazy somatic responses in my body while I was involved in my People in Hips journey (hands on my neck, being hit repeatedly on my back and all over my body, and an automatic bouncing of my body that seemed as if I was being raped.)

Now this person from my past was going to tell me what happened.  It was 40 years ago.

And I thought this story was finished...

I am crying as I write this for it is the beginning a long conclusion.  I thought putting it away in a box in my past was enough, and it is enough to prevent the PTSD, to prevent the shaking, to prevent the spontaneous cramping of my hip flexors.  It’s enough. Putting it in a box in the past works.  It relieves the pain, the present day pain. There is no baby Ken here, no Dark Man. They are and were manifestations of my past, my trauma, my lost childhood.  

But now, knowing the truth seems somehow… sublime.

It is said that the truth will set you free, and in my case, it will.  It will set me free from the fear of not knowing, free from the fear of being crazy and free from the fear of Baby Ken and The Dark Man returning someday for even more fun. The truth will firmly seat me in my body, validating my People in my Hips experience as being real.

After all this, I like real.

Now this person from my past was going to tell me what happened.  It was 40 years ago.

Amazing.

So this is what was remembered in hypnosis… not mine… this person’s hypnosis.  (I am going to tell the tale in the female gender although that is not necessarily the proper gender, for I was asked to keep this anonymous.)

She was walking up a road in Yorktown, and heard noise - yelling, arguing coming from down the hill behind a house across from where I lived as a child.  (The same house that my hip lead me to on December 24, 2006 - the day I was cured of my PEEPS condition.)  She walked further down the road where she could see what was happening down behind the house.  

I was there.  Yelling. Wearing a red plaid shirt, my hair parted at the side.

And a MAN was yelling back at me.  Balding.  Dark squinty eyes. Partially graying. He was standing on his back porch.  Yes, that porch that porch, the one I remembered so often in Yoga, that porch connected with so so so so much fear.

“I can walk through your yard anytime I want.” I said defiantly.

“Oh no you can’t.” He yelled back.

“I am just taking the path down through the woods.”  (Yes, those woods the woods that I remembered so often in fear.)  

“Get out of there!  Get off my property!

“I will do what I want.” Egging him on like I egged on my father. “What are you going to do about it?

There was an aluminum bat, with a red handle and a silver top.  It was in his hand.  He came at me.

“Leave me alone. Get away.  God damnit! Get away!”

And then she saw this man, this DARK MAN, this god damned fucking monster of humanity come at me. As I turn to run, he hits me in the back of my left knee with the bat. I fall against a big oak tree, and the Dark Man starts to beat me repeatedly as I scream in terror.

THE DARK MAN stops a moment and turns, and sees, maybe he sees or maybe he doesn’t see but this person watching thinks he sees her so she runs and runs and runs, terror racing through her veins. She runs and runs and runs and has to get help but she is so scared - she doesn’t know what to do, she is so so so so crazy scared she needs to help me but she can’t  -  “Should I go to a neighbors house please god oh please someone help me help that boy I know down the hill he is going to die but I don’t know what to do Oh please please help!”

She runs frantically around the block, down a nearby cul-de-sac and around the block again.  She just runs, she becomes the running she becomes the fear “oh god I have to help and I CAN’T.”

A while later, know one knows yet how long, she makes her way back.  She sees me as I come hobbling up the hill from the DARK MAN’s PORCH and his TREE OF DEATH, to my house. (That memory I had during Yoga and in therapy - walking up to my house being so scared so hurt - someone, yes, THE DARK MAN told me NOT TO TELL ANYONE or else he would KILL ME.  HE WOULD KILL ME IF I TOLD ANYONE.  I had to keep it a secret, a secret, or he would kill me.  So what better way to keep a secret - MAKE YOURSELF FORGET.)  She saw this my memory of my fear, and she still didn’t know what to do.  She watched as I hobbled up to my home, beaten and …. Oh God, I think something else but I just don’t know yet… I just don’t know.

Please, can I keep that in the box.

Because of this event, my “Watcher” spent the rest of her life up until now unconsciously trying to help/save people for she was unable to help me on that oh so dark day, 40 years ago.

And I, by the DARK MAN, was given the curse (now gift) of the people in my hips.

One event changed the course of our lives.  I thought this was my story but the miracle here is, it wasn’t.  This tale, my tale is shared.  Someone was there.  Someone was there.

Oh God, it was real.

“Can you ever forgive me?” my “Watcher” wept as we sat together on that park bench.  “Can you ever forgive me, I didn’t know what to do, I had to run, I couldn’t help myself I had to run I had to -  can you forgive me please oh please oh please?”

She was there again.  A child begging my forgiveness.

“Of course I forgive you. You didn’t do anything.  He did.  He’s the evil one. Of course I forgive you.  I am fine. It is forty years later, and I am doing really well.  That was the past. It’s over.”

“I didn’t want to tell you.  Are you alright?  I didn’t want to bring stuff up for you.”

“I am fine.  Totally fine. You didn’t do anything. You were a child.  Just a child.”

She wept as we embraced.  I felt somehow devoid of emotion, yet filled with so much compassion for my dear and wonderful Watcher.

I vaguely remember the incident behind the Dark Man’s house.  The somatic feelings of getting hit on my back when the People in my Hips first manifested big time now made sense.  I was beat on my back by an aluminum bat.  The somatic hands on my throat must have been his, and the memory of being held down when I had the Moobee points done on me by Alexander Hand, must have also been from this experience also.

And then there was the somatic memory of being raped which showed up in Yoga.  Did that happen that day when my Watcher ran away?  I don’t know.  … And I think so.

The next day, I received a phone call from my Watcher.  She found out the identity of THE DARK MAN by searching the internet and she found a picture.  In the picture, he was balding with dark squinty eyes.  It was him.

He was dead.  He died three years ago, in 2007, in a car accident.  

He can’t hurt me ever again.

When my hip lead me to his house on that fateful Christmas Eve in 2006 when I was cured of my condition, the Dark Man was probably sitting in his house less than 30 yards away.

The world works in mysterious ways.

------------------------------

Here is that video from that fateful Christmas Eve re-presented here in this context.

It is clear now who the DARK MAN is.  

And yes, he is evil incarnate.

Follows are two videos of a therapy session I had 5 years ago when I was in the middle of my CRAZY People in my Hips adventure.  I was going to wait to put these videos in the documentary that I am putting together on THE PEEPS, but because of what happened, what I have learned - what my friend told me was remembered, I am posting this.  Not so much for me, but for this person so there can be closure and maybe even more discovery on their end.

Here are the videos.  This is really cool therapy.

I am feeling a little scared now.  Goose pimples and some fear in my body.  Wow, isn't that interesting.

It was 40 years ago.    I can deal.

I will keep you posted.

This video makes me cry.  In a really good way.

I know it has been a while since I wrote on this blog.  I just want to let you know that I am still deeply connected and committed to getting this story out into the mainstream media.  No one knows about or talks about this stuff and it needs to be explored.

I am in the process of putting together a film about my People in the Hips experience, and I am having a hard time finding the format.  When I did my one man show I was able to theatrically tell the story of things I didn't film by acting out scenes, using sound clips and more, but how do I tell the story filmatically if I don't have the footage of the real events.  Do I do act out scenes and film them?  Do I tell the story documentary style?  I have been at an impasse for weeks.

In the process of trying to figure out how to do this film, I went through and loaded into my computer ALL of the 200 hours of People in the Hips footage from that crazy time.  I have discovered some wild new footage that I will be using in the film, but I will post some of it here.

If any of you have any ideas about the CONTEXT of telling this story as a film, please let me know by emailing me at thepeopleinmyhips@gmail.com.  I have a few ideas which I will be working through in the next week or so and I will keep you posted on this process.

A client of mine had a connection to two Oprah producers so I sent out two extensive emails outlining a possible segment for the show.  No word.

I ain't giving up.

Emotionally I am better than ever.  Everyday when I wake up and look over at my amazing girlfriend and our little dog Roma, I thank God that I am waking up ALONE.  There is just one of me.  I am not disjointed. I am not broken.  I am not in PAIN.

There is this strange soft peace in me now, knowing that no matter what happens to me in life, there is this still strong voice inside me, call it my soul, call it my true self, or call it God, and not matter what happens, this still strong voice will alway be there to guide me, support me, and carry me through any and all adversity.

This still strong voice inside me which I embraced during my People in my Hips adventure is the gift, the reason, the growth, the why I lived through the madness.  It has empowered me in a myriad of ways some I can't even describe with words.  I am so so grateful I went on this journey.  I am a better happier man because of it.

I still experience some occasional trauma in my hips. Recently I developed severe Sciatica (my tale is documented in these pages - search NOWTODAY to find those entries) which manifested from poor lifting and tightness in my hip area.  In working it out with stretching and some chiropractic work, I have experienced some faint old trauma feelings in my hips BUT NOTHING in comparison to what went on for me during my People in my hips journey.  When it comes up, I notice it and let it go.  Will it ever totally vacate my body this old trauma energy?  It think not.  But it will NEVER take over my life again.  I am present, here and now, and I plan and know that I will keep it that way.  

We are all responsible for and have power over our lives even in the face of crazy adversity.  The key for me is the belief that in any given moment in time there is possibility for change.  It may not happen today, but if one persists and works toward any goal, or against any obstacle, things will eventually change.  The key is to never give up and to keep changing what you are doing when what you are doing isn't working.

I still hope to someday get on Oprah,  (I know I only have a year to go.)  but I am not going to drive myself crazy in the process of getting on her show to help people with similiar PTSD multiple personality issues.  I can get the word out and help people without Oprah's show to help me.

But it would be cool to share this story with her after all I went through and how that hope, the hope to be on her show, helped me keep going even when the going got tough. But in any case, I have lots of people to connect to, and I think a really important message to share.

I believe a huge percentage of "MENTAL ILLNESS" is simply cause by energy imbalance.  The problem is when MENTAL ILLNESS occurs most individuals go to drugs to manage it, and that is just dealing with the symptom, and not what I believe is the cause.  I thank God, I never took drugs to manage my "MENTAL ILLNESS".  Yes, it wasn't fun, but I was able to look and explore, and ultimately, by following my intuition, my gut, and that still strong voice inside me, I was able to cure myself of my condition.

This is the end to the People in the Hips Story Arc #1.  In the months ahead, I will be sharing more tales of my journey as they become relevant, more insights on energy/Yoga/Bodywork and illness, and more.

I am not done.  This story is too big and too important to be marked as "read" and to be put on a bookshelf somewhere.

It's time we look at all in a new way.

In any given moment in time, there is possibility.  Let's keep exploring.

with best regards,

Ken Wolf

sitting in Starbucks 

7:40 a.m.

June 16, 2010