Little Miracles

I like little miracles. Little miracles are easier for me to see and digest than are big miracles. For some reason, I'm not thrilled out of my pants to be alive, sober, and sane today. I'm grateful and I'm glad, but I don't have the feeling one might get from surviving or escaping a near-death experience, which I get to do on a daily basis. But I get to see little miracles every day, when I've a mind to.

Little miracles are those things that I experience that practically no one else would give a shit about. They are events and occurrences in my life which would not make the headlines, but they are meaningful to me. They are those things which show evidence of a Higher Power in my life. Things like waking up in the morning without feeling anger, fear, and dread. Things like paying my rent on time, and paying my debts. Things like being able to return love and compassion when I am confronted with a person filled with anger and grief. Things like being able to believe in things I don't yet see. Things like not having a lot materially, but being able to see the value in that which I do have. Things like having a ton of true friends and the feeling of being a part of, rather than apart from. Things like really being ok with sitting at a computer in the public library and shedding tears of joy without shame.

Winter is not my favorite season. I don't particularly care for wearing 50 lbs. of clothing to stay warm and having to slog through snow and ice. But I've been told that there is beauty and reason in everything that exists, no matter what the appearances are. The other day, I was slogging through the evidence of winter to an appointment, and I mentioned to the Universe how I thought it would be nice to see the beauty in this crap. I came to a golf course which, during summer months, I have cut across to shorten my walk. There was a sign that said 'Course Closed'. Of course. I usually take signs as suggestions, rather than as orders, and I began to walk across the golf course. What I began to see as I walked across the course reminded me of a picture postcard - the fairway was virgin snow, framed by trees on either side. I really don't have words to describe how pretty it looked to me as I walked forth to my destination, but I knew my request to the Universe had been granted - I was able to experience beauty in something in which I usually experience discomfort.

Each day in which I open my mind and my heart to the presence of my Higher Power is a day in which I can experience these little miracles, and I am grateful. Thank you God!

Namasté,
Ken

Self-Esteem

Last year, when I had my own business, I acquired a fair amount of debt. This is nothing new - debt has been a part of my life almost as long as alcoholism. What is new is the set of circumstances in which I found myself - I had been financed by friends of mine (actual people, rather than faceless companies), and I had recently lost one of the main enablers of my financial irresponsibility. So, my business tanked about 8 months ago, and I tanked with it. I became majorly depressed and hopeless, and I began drinking again. When I again got sober in May, 2015, I knew that I would have to take responsibility for my life. This was not something I looked forward to, as I had neatly evaded being responsible my entire life, and I wasn't very sure at all that I could become a responsible human being now. But I was willing to try.

So I set out to be responsible, which for me means taking care of my daily business rather than avoiding it, evading it, ignoring it, or giving it to someone else.

Which led to me beginning to pay back those people who had lent me money to help me succeed in my endeavors. What I started doing when I got my most recent job was taking a certain amount from each check - it works out to be about 25% - 33%, depending upon how many hours I work - and making payments to people to whom I owe money. So far, I've got the first two people on my list almost all paid back. The amount isn't impressive; what is impressive to me is that I've been able to put forth consistent, positive effort toward a worthwhile goal. That hasn't happened very often in my life.
After a couple months of doing this, I began to consider how I felt about what I was doing, and I found out I felt - well, I didn't know how I felt, but it felt - ok.

At first, I thought I was supposed to feel good. Now, feeling good to me might mean a different thing than feeling good does to someone else. To me, good is the feeling I used to get from using alcohol and drugs. Good is the feeling I get from kissing a girl. Good is the feeling I get after I exercise or when I occasionally have a large amount of money in my pocket.
This was something different. I felt ok. I'm glad I'm doing the right thing (finally), but it's not a euphoric feeling, and it's not stoking my ego, because it's something I feel is just the right thing to do. I thought it was strange that I wasn't able to put a name on this feeling, but I knew it was a feeling with which I am unfamiliar.

I talked about this last week at the alumni group I attend at the halfway house from which I graduated (twice). I described what I felt, and the counselor asked if I knew what it was. I acknowledged that I didn't, and he told me that it was called self-esteem and self-respect. Wow. Just wow. I've never felt that before. Never that I can recall. I've always had these high highs and low lows, and I had believed that was what life was about. This is just steady, solid, and secure. I'm ok  with myself, and I'm ok  with what I'm doing. What a concept.

Now maybe I can apply this concept to other areas of my life, and be ok with feeling ok, rather than needing or expecting some kick-in-the-ass extra-ordinary feeling from doing what is expected from a civilized responsible human being. I can still get good feelings from those healthy things that make me feel good, but I can also be satisfied with the feeling I get from living from my higher self. I am grateful that I survived long enough to experience this.

Namasté,
Ken

Effort vs. Struggle

Last week I was at the YMCA swimming laps. I had occasion to strike up a conversation with a woman who was there to swim. It turns out that she is an instructor in aquatic exercise, so she had some suggestions for me. (I thought I learned to swim nearly 50 years ago, but I guess not. Or perhaps I forgot how). The instructor said it looked like I was struggling as I swam, and that if I extended my arms more on the strokes and pulled more when my hands hit the water, I would get more out of my swimming. I could not argue with her suggestions, and I appreciated the advice.

I take incidents like this as lessons from my Higher Power, so I began to mull over what the instructor told me. This is what I extrapolated from this incident – I am a lazy person, therefore I struggle through life. Ok, actually I got a lot more out of it than that, and it is positive. But first and foremost, I recognize that my current default thinking regarding anything I want to have or achieve is to put forth the least amount of effort while expecting maximum results. I look back on my life, and I see how that attitude has worked out. I could fill a book with examples of how I have expected great and wonderful things from simply desiring them and putting forth minimal to no effort at all. (I blame this attitude on a TV show I loved watching when I was growing up called Bewitched – Elizabeth Montgomery manifested great and wonderful things in her life simply by desiring them and then twitching her lips or nose or whatever she twitched. This is nice in theory, but doesn’t really work well in practice, I’ve found). I’ve got a sheet that lists thinking errors around here somewhere, but I don’t know where it is right now. I’m pretty sure this kind of thinking has a name.

At any rate, how does this play out in my life today? There are areas of my life in which I am willing to put forth effort, and I don’t struggle, and there are areas in my life that could use some improvement, but I’m not yet willing to put forth the effort that would enable things to improve, so I still struggle with those areas. Here are a couple of examples:

One of my desires is to come home each day to a room that looks like a freshly made motel room – clean, the bed is made, the bathroom is clean and there are fresh towels, and there’s a mint on my pillow. I really put forth only minimal effort toward this desire – I don’t have a housekeeper, and I don’t always make my bed before I leave, and I don’t always put stuff back in its place, and I don't necessarily vacuum daily or clean the bathroom daily. I have an unmet desire because, at this point, I don’t have the willingness to put forth the effort that is required to manifest this desire. So I struggle because I live in a disorganized mess that I don’t like, and I use work-arounds to get by rather than putting forth consistent, effective effort. It really isn’t a matter of “I can’t” as much as it is a matter of “I won’t” (or, better put, “I will-not”).

An example of the results of using willingness and effort is my experience of recovery from alcoholism and depression. The more effort I put into activities that enhance my sobriety and mental/emotional health, the less I struggle with urges to use unhealthy substances and the less I struggle with feelings of worthlessness, desires to escape, and thoughts of death. It really, really is that simple. I won’t take the space in this post to enumerate what all of those healthy activities are – the point is that sobriety is much more than not drinking and not using drugs, and good mental and emotional health comes from much more than popping a pill daily.

 The common thread in all of this for me is that every area in my life in which I struggle is an area in which I choose to go it alone, and not ask for help, support, or advice. There are a lot of people that I choose to involve in my recovery, and I really don’t struggle very much with it at all – when I do begin to struggle, I ask for assistance. I put forth effort toward recovery on a daily basis, and struggle very little. As far as my room goes, that’s pretty much all me, and I still struggle a lot. Hmmmm…

Namasté,

Ken