the red light. The shadow of the overpass had camouflaged the car as it passed in front of me. I never saw it. Even my peripheral vision couldn’t see the car coming because of the angle of my car in relationship to the intersection. Knocking my car’s gear shift into neutral prevented me from accelerating into a head-on collision. 

The incident was the impetus for an adrenaline rush that vulcanized future decisions.

By merging my attention into the radio, propelled by my dislike for commercials, left me distracted from hearing my consciousness talk to me. Since I was distracted from hearing any messages at an opportune time to be informed and protected, it was necessary for another form of consciousness to kick in and prevent a damaging collision from occurring. This moment became etched into my mind so that I might learn from it and take advantage of its ramifications. No injuries, damage or delays occurred despite being in the right place at the wrong time. My judgment was overruled with a better judgment.

“Being at the right place at the wrong time allowed other factors to compensate for the lack of good judgment in the moment.” Robert Bautner

I valued my consciousness communicating with me over the content of the radio. This ordinary moment at an intersection became an extraordinary moment in my mind. A snapshot was taken and placed in front of me to describe its thousand details.

The first time I recall being actively involved in this process of decision-making was at the age of 9. At the time I didn’t know that an incident 2 years earlier had created the circumstances that necessitated the decision I was about to make. In the fall when I was 7, I decided to go to my friend’s house to give him a toy car I had found in the dirt at his grandma’s house. I excitedly crossed the street to his home. I knocked on the door but nobody was home. I thought, ‘maybe he’s at his grandma’s house next door.’ I went to his grandma’s house to see if my friend was there and knocked on the door. My friend’s 19-year-old uncle answered the door and invited me in. Walking past the threshold, I asked if my friend was there. Without hearing his answer, I chatted away. I was so excited to give my friend his car, I didn’t hear his answer. I talked rapidly, explaining the details of the toy car without any awareness of my surroundings. With the door firmly closed behind me, my anticipation didn’t slow down. I continued chatting away. I was so excited.

True harmony within a family is the coming together of different personalities, different modes of building, that creates real harmony through the free expression of each person’s innocence. 

From Innocence to Distortion

I knew of my friend’s uncle. He lived at his grandma’s house so he was my neighbor, too. His name was Rick. It never registered in my mind that anything was out of place. I continued talking, explained the car and the circumstances of me finding it in detail. I stood against the wall beside the closed door. While I talked, unbeknownst to me Rick was preparing to expose himself to me. What happened next would turn on my sexual switch and change my life forever.

He exposed what he was hiding at the fold of his pants, a snapshot of a moment that became photographed into my mind. He stepped towards me, and the film in my mind kept on recording. He thrust his erection into my face, squishing my nose against my cheek. Now the sight as well as the feel of his body touching me was recording. My nose recorded the smell. My mind never stopped recording the moment. I recoiled and my head hit the wall behind me. I stopped talking, and he laughed. The sound of his laughter recorded in the audio in my mind.

“Being at the right place at the wrong time allowed other factors to compensate for the lack of good judgment in the moment.” Robert Bautner

My mind contorted into a form that I didn’t recognize. I was left in a stupor, dazed in the moment. It all happened so quickly. I immediately stopped talking. I suddenly didn’t have anything else to talk about. I didn’t understand what had just happened. I turned and left, running home. I didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t know I needed to. The invasion of my innocence became distorted immediately with permanent ramifications.

That night I fell soundly asleep, but I woke up wet. I hadn’t peed the bed since I was out of diapers years earlier. I continued peeing the bed night after night for the next 2 years after this sexual encounter invaded my innocence. It didn’t register in my mind to connect the sexual invasion earlier in the day and the beginning of peeing the bed, but now I see that they had common denominators. I continue peeing the bed every night after that and intermittently peeing my pants during the day.

During those two years, I told myself with definitive conviction and intention, ‘I’m not going to pee the bed tonight. I’m going to wake up dry.’ Yet I always woke up wet. I continued telling myself this, hoping for a change, but what I was hoping for never came to pass.

What I realize now is that the catalyst to make that change wasn’t in place for the results I was looking for. I needed a catalyst to vulcanize my decision and declaration together to formulate the results I was looking for.

Feelings Become the Catalysts to Vulcanize Change

I continued peeing out of place incessantly. Looking back, and knowing what I know now about making decisions to change, I needed to add other senses to my declaration in order to succeed in my goal to control my urination. At age nine I was able to add that additional sense I needed. It was the sense of sight but not my sight. It was the sight of somebody else. What happened was that I had the chance to see myself through the eyes of my friend Bonnie. She was a girl I liked, and she saw me pee my pants in my fourth grade class. In that moment I saw myself pee my pants. This sensory experience was something different that wasn’t there before. The feeling of shock and shame from Rick’s abuse was replaced with shock and shame of having someone see me pee my pants in public, and someone I liked. I witnessed an irreversible moment frozen in the annals of my mind that would vulcanize my decision and declaration together to stop peeing my bed. The catalyst was set in place.

I couldn’t listen clearly. I couldn’t see the obvious. I looked at the clock, catching Bonnie’s eye. She was watching me fidget, catching my eye every time I looked at the clock. She stood between the clock and me. I sucked in my belly, breathing out rapidly. I looked at the clock, the clock didn’t move, and Mrs. Martin didn’t stop talking. The bell wouldn’t ring. I couldn’t hold on much longer.

I had an idea. I’ll just let a drop out. It always felt good when I peed. I knew less pressure on my bladder would relieve the pain, even if it was just a little bit. I figured, if peeing my pants was noticeable, I’ll just run home fast. I stood still, ready to release just a bit. I stood still, ready to turn it off. I relaxed the tension in my bladder. A feeling of euphoria erupted, it was Shangri-La. The flow felt so good, my whole body paused, tension in my face softened. An audible sigh of release followed. The sensation pulsed through my mind and body for the moment. It felt so good to pee. My euphoric feeling left me in a stupor of relaxation that didn’t last long. 

I couldn’t stop peeing. No matter how hard I tried to pinch off my muscle, I couldn’t. My euphoric sensation turned into panic.

I caught Bonnie’s eyes. She was staring at me. Her eyes looked down at the cuff of my pants. I followed suit, looking down to see what she was seeing. I saw my warm pee flow out my pant leg and puddle around my shoes.

I witnessed Bonnie motioning to her friend behind me to look at what I was doing. I didn’t turn around to see what she was seeing. I was already devastated watching Bonnie stare at me as my pee poured out of my pants. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. Mrs. Martin continued to talk. The bell wouldn’t ring. My pee flowed under my desk. The bell rang, and I ran down the stairs and out the doors. I wanted to get home and change my pants and forget about the day.

I couldn’t get the thought of Bonnie staring at me peeing my pants or motioning to her friend to look over at me. I jaywalked crossing the street far from the intersection to avoid being seen by the crossing guard or by stopped cars at the crosswalk. My pants were very wet. I was very distressed. I was more embarrassed this time, more than any other time I had peed my pants. I ran faster to get home to change into dry clothes.

Friday night I laid in bed with an uneasiness in my stomach. I saw Bonnie’s eyes staring back at me. My heart pounded harder with the thoughts and discomforts of the day. I reminisced over and over again. My thoughts ran faster than I could run. I saw Bonnie’s eyes staring back at me, piercing my soul. I stopped reminiscing and made a new declaration. This time, I stood up on my mattress and declared, ‘I am done peeing the bed!’ I saw something different with this declaration. I saw my decision and subsequently I saw my surroundings. With Bonnie’s eyes I solidified the declaration to never pee the bed again.

A new decision was made. I saw the top bunk that had been waiting patiently for the last two and a half years. It stood like a good friend waiting for me to make this declaration. Even 50 years later, I can describe the light of the room, the color of the walls, the tatter of the floor, and the structure of the ceiling. I can see the layout of the room where all the furniture was, including my dresser drawers.

The visual experience I had earlier in the day ultimately became the catalyst I needed to vulcanize my decision to stop being the bed. I had to see myself through the eyes of somebody else in order to see myself stop peeing my pants and subsequently my bed. I dismantled my crib, a bed that represented the lack of confidence in myself and my declaration and walked it to the garage piece by piece.

My mother had put me back into a crib because I couldn’t stop peeing the bed. This bed was the very crib I slept in as a baby. As I walked the crib back into storage, my mother asked me, ‘what are you doing?’

I said, ‘I am done peeing the bed, mommy!’

My mother said, ‘Are you sure?’

I said, ‘Yes.’

I never looked back. I was done peeing the bed forever.

This decision, this moment was meant to stay in me for the rest of my life as a reminder of how future decisions are made. Add as many senses to your declaration as you can, and you will transform mere words into your new physical reality. Robert Bautner