One of the common threads of addiction and mental/emotional unwellness is the belief that we are less-than; that, as we are, we aren't enough and probably never will be. I don't know if this false belief is the chicken or the egg, but once it's deeply rooted, it feeds on itself and proves itself over and over again. It is essential to my recovery that I reverse this belief.
Last night I met with a group of people to do a little spiritual exploring. I had only met one person in this group once before; I had never consciously met the other 6 people there. There were a lot of notable things that happened last night, but for the purposes of this post, I'm going to focus on this: Even though I didn't really know these folks, and even though I didn't know exactly what we'd be doing, I felt totally comfortable and at home among them. I will note that nobody asked me who I was, why was I there, where I was from, what I did for work, how old I was, if I was single or married, if I was in recovery, or any of that. I was among a group of people for whom those things don't matter, and they didn't matter to me, either.
So, today I recognize that by being myself, and not trying to be anybody else, I am led to situations and people that are right for me. This is a big turnaround for me, and relatively recent. It's awesome because I've spent most of my life trying (and failing) to measure up to people around me. There is a great sense of freedom and serenity in not having to measure up.
I grew up with the belief that I was pretty useless, and would never measure up. Looking back, I can see the biggest error of my ways was that I never shared with others what I thought about myself or how I felt inside - therefore, I never received any arguments to my thinking, and I didn't realize it was flawed thinking. And I reinforced my thinking every step of the way. I remember very well being about 5 or 6 and looking at my brother's or sister's mathematics book, not understanding it a bit, and feeling stupid and thinking, "I'll never be able to do that." Which became the truth - I never did master algebra; however, most 6 year old children do not have a grasp on algebra - I was comparing myself to people who had lived twice as long as I had, and feeling bad because I didn't measure up. I look back on that today, and I'm like, "Doh!" But it was very real to me. And so it continued - I compared myself to those around me, and even in my age group I was never the smartest, cutest, brightest, fastest, strongest, nicest, funniest. Never!
And the incredibly sad part is I was also never the best me I could be, because I was always trying to be like somebody else.
Five years ago around this time, I understood that if I were to live, I'd have to learn to be authentic. What does that mean? What does that look like? At it's very core, being authentic means I am unashamedly myself. I stop apologizing for who I am. (Please note that I still apologize when I wrong or hurt someone). I stop shaming myself when someone else doesn't think I measure up. I begin to put into practice the idea that I was created with my unique set of gifts for a reason, and I stop trying to justify myself or my existence to myself or to others. I begin following a path that feels right inside. I begin releasing the expectations that I think others have put on me.
And this is an important point, and the one that I drive home with myself and those with whom I work: Even though I was given a certain set of expectations by the society and family in which I was raised, in the end, it is my responsibility to listen to my inner guide, my higher self, and follow Its guidance. I begin to find out what brings me joy and peace, and put more attention on doing those things and becoming the same person on the outside that I am on the inside.
It means moving into alignment - with God, if you will, or my higher self, or my conscience. Finding this alignment, this peace with who I really am, is essential to my recovery - when I am at peace with how I'm showing up in the world, I don't find it necessary to drink alcohol or use drugs. There is no inner conflict that needs to be quelled; if I want to change my mood, I do it by placing my attention on what makes me feel the way we want to feel.
One of the great benefits of allowing myself to be me is that I begin to allow others to be themselves as well. I drop the comparisons. I stop assuming I know what is best for you. Even better, I become more concerned with getting to know your insides rather than your outsides. The Truth begins to take on more importance than the illusion. And I'm not very concerned with how you view me.
Life is less frustrating for me today, more enjoyable, more peaceful, more real, more purposeful. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Namasté,
Ken
Thursday, September 13, 2018
Tuesday, September 4, 2018
Riding the Wave
It's been raining a lot lately, and communities in the region are experiencing flooding. If I find myself in a body of water that wasn't there before, or really any body of water, I've got a few choices. The easiest one, of course, is to let the water overwhelm me and drown. Another choice might be to thrash around and yell until somebody notices me and rescues me. Another might be just to sit or stand where I am and hope the water subsides or a rescue boat floats by. And perhaps a fourth choice would be to learn to swim - to understand that perhaps I can work with the water that surrounds me, use it to lift me up and maybe even carry me to dry land.
I mention this because I consciously tried something a little different today while at work. I came in to work today with my agenda of things I wanted to do, knowing full well that it was unlikely to go exactly as I wanted it to go. And, sure enough, today, for some reason, I was flooded with urgent calls that had nothing to do with what I planned to do. Part of my job is to take care of the callers, so that's what was mine to do. Really every time I got a call today, the phone would ring again halfway through the call with someone else needing assistance - they'd leave a message (or not, bless their heart), and I'd call back to assist them. And I log all of my calls too, so there's time used for that.
For those of us in recovery, stuff like this can throw us. Probably for everybody, but those of us in recovery need to be able to get back to some equilibrium - stress is something that needs attention so that we don't become symptomatic. Now, I don't freak out over lots of unexpected stuff to do, but it has in the past drained me quite a bit, and sometimes irritated me and lowered my emotional state.
I've been learning lately to put my emotional state - my 'vibe', as it were - first. That sounds counterproductive - isn't that what I did when I was actively using alcohol? Isn't that self-centered? Not when done properly with the right intention.
First of all, how am I viewing the flood? I learned early in recovery that what works best is to take things as they come, and not judge them as good or bad. Floods have their purpose, and, while not necessarily pleasant, they can have value. In other words, this is what is in front of me and it is mine to do - no bitching, whining, or trying to run away from it. I've had to re-learn this throughout recovery, because as I gain more stability and confidence and my skills sharpen, I'm prone to begin to believe again that I actually know what I'm doing and can run my own show. In other words, ego begins to grow. So I'm reminded as the waters rise that it's time for me to set aside what I wanted to do and take care of the business at hand as best I can.
One of the things I just thought of is that I have a 'reject' button on my phone that, when pressed, sends an incoming call right to voice mail. I'm grateful I didn't even think of doing that.
Anyway, as I'm taking care of this 'extra' business, I can feel the stress level in my body rise. A few months ago, I posted a video that talked about how stress can actually be beneficial when viewed and responded to correctly. So today, being conscious of my stress along with the direction my feeling state was headed, I was able to take some action to turn today's flood into a good experience, and the action I took was purely mental - all I did was instead of inwardly complaining about the calls and worrying whether I'd get 'my' stuff done, was I changed my attitude.
Everything is energy. We don't necessarily see it, but it is. So I had this unexpected energy coming at me today. My choices were to resist it as much as possible, escape it somehow, or, ride the wave of energy. When we resist, we're using our own energy to push against something, and we deplete ourselves. When I escape, I may save my energy, but I lower my emotional feeling state, and that can cause me to do negative things later on. If I can ride the energy coming at me, I can get through it until it dissipates, and not lose my own energy or my emotional well-being. Although I'm not a practitioner of the martial arts, I think that that's the same thing martial artists do. Be ok with the wave and just ride it.
Today is the first time I've intentionally done this, and it really worked well. Notice the wave, keep my emotional state 'above water' by not judging the wave, ride it and do what I have to do with it, and move on. And give thanks for the wherewithal to handle what comes my way.
One of the things to remember, I think, is when the wave is over, stop riding it. I handled all the calls and requests; the people who called have stuff to do on their end, but now it's theirs; I don't have to concern myself with it, and I can go back to doing what I was doing.
I'm really grateful for today's lesson.
Namasté,
Ken
I mention this because I consciously tried something a little different today while at work. I came in to work today with my agenda of things I wanted to do, knowing full well that it was unlikely to go exactly as I wanted it to go. And, sure enough, today, for some reason, I was flooded with urgent calls that had nothing to do with what I planned to do. Part of my job is to take care of the callers, so that's what was mine to do. Really every time I got a call today, the phone would ring again halfway through the call with someone else needing assistance - they'd leave a message (or not, bless their heart), and I'd call back to assist them. And I log all of my calls too, so there's time used for that.
For those of us in recovery, stuff like this can throw us. Probably for everybody, but those of us in recovery need to be able to get back to some equilibrium - stress is something that needs attention so that we don't become symptomatic. Now, I don't freak out over lots of unexpected stuff to do, but it has in the past drained me quite a bit, and sometimes irritated me and lowered my emotional state.
I've been learning lately to put my emotional state - my 'vibe', as it were - first. That sounds counterproductive - isn't that what I did when I was actively using alcohol? Isn't that self-centered? Not when done properly with the right intention.
First of all, how am I viewing the flood? I learned early in recovery that what works best is to take things as they come, and not judge them as good or bad. Floods have their purpose, and, while not necessarily pleasant, they can have value. In other words, this is what is in front of me and it is mine to do - no bitching, whining, or trying to run away from it. I've had to re-learn this throughout recovery, because as I gain more stability and confidence and my skills sharpen, I'm prone to begin to believe again that I actually know what I'm doing and can run my own show. In other words, ego begins to grow. So I'm reminded as the waters rise that it's time for me to set aside what I wanted to do and take care of the business at hand as best I can.
One of the things I just thought of is that I have a 'reject' button on my phone that, when pressed, sends an incoming call right to voice mail. I'm grateful I didn't even think of doing that.
Anyway, as I'm taking care of this 'extra' business, I can feel the stress level in my body rise. A few months ago, I posted a video that talked about how stress can actually be beneficial when viewed and responded to correctly. So today, being conscious of my stress along with the direction my feeling state was headed, I was able to take some action to turn today's flood into a good experience, and the action I took was purely mental - all I did was instead of inwardly complaining about the calls and worrying whether I'd get 'my' stuff done, was I changed my attitude.
Everything is energy. We don't necessarily see it, but it is. So I had this unexpected energy coming at me today. My choices were to resist it as much as possible, escape it somehow, or, ride the wave of energy. When we resist, we're using our own energy to push against something, and we deplete ourselves. When I escape, I may save my energy, but I lower my emotional feeling state, and that can cause me to do negative things later on. If I can ride the energy coming at me, I can get through it until it dissipates, and not lose my own energy or my emotional well-being. Although I'm not a practitioner of the martial arts, I think that that's the same thing martial artists do. Be ok with the wave and just ride it.
Today is the first time I've intentionally done this, and it really worked well. Notice the wave, keep my emotional state 'above water' by not judging the wave, ride it and do what I have to do with it, and move on. And give thanks for the wherewithal to handle what comes my way.
One of the things to remember, I think, is when the wave is over, stop riding it. I handled all the calls and requests; the people who called have stuff to do on their end, but now it's theirs; I don't have to concern myself with it, and I can go back to doing what I was doing.
I'm really grateful for today's lesson.
Namasté,
Ken
Monday, September 3, 2018
It's All Inside All of Us
When I was 10, 11, or 12, I read a book titled Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach. It's a book about a seagull who is dissatisfied with his ordinary seagull life, and sets out to learn to fly - to really fly, not just commute to get his daily food. It's a quick read, and I recommend it. There is also a version on YouTube, narrated by Richard Harris. I started listening to it, but the style of narration and the music put me off. You might enjoy it, however.
I believe this book started, or at least validated, my quest for something more. As I've mentioned once or twice before in this blog, I've never been one to be satisfied very long with life as it appears on the surface. I've always searched deeper. I am blessed in that I grew up in a home with parents of different faith traditions. I don't have as much dogma as some people have, and I had permission to explore what was out there as far as religion goes, and explore I did. I also never had any indoctrination that one way of believing was any better or worse than another way. I am grateful for that. I have plenty of stuff to unlearn in this lifetime, but I don't have any sense of guilt that some might experience from staying home on a Sunday morning, or that I currently do not hold membership in any organized religious body. And I may become a member of a spiritual fellowship in the future, if Spirit moves me to do so.
Even with all this freedom, spirituality has been slow to develop with me. I read and hear spiritual information that rings true to me, but have had difficulty over the years internalizing what I hear and read. It's as though part of me really grasps onto it, and part of me rejects it. The path from my head to my heart is often a lot longer than the physical 18 inches.
But what I wanted to write about today is the concept that God, or Spirit, or Source, or Creator, or whatever term fits best for you, is inside each and every one of us. Not just because we've been baptized, or confirmed, or had our willies snipped - the Spirit of the Universe is within us since birth. Our connection to Source is our birthright. I understand that many faiths say one must go through some sort of ceremony to get God, but even in the Christian tradition, Jesus did not indicate that. "And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, 'The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you'." (Luke 17:20-21, KJV) (I think the red lettering is a nice touch). Jesus' statement comes with no qualifiers. Jesus' mission on Earth was to show others how to connect with God, and if there had been qualifiers, surely He would have mentioned them? Many of the commonly accepted qualifiers for becoming a child of God expressed in the Christian faiths originated from theologians after Jesus' death.
I believe this book started, or at least validated, my quest for something more. As I've mentioned once or twice before in this blog, I've never been one to be satisfied very long with life as it appears on the surface. I've always searched deeper. I am blessed in that I grew up in a home with parents of different faith traditions. I don't have as much dogma as some people have, and I had permission to explore what was out there as far as religion goes, and explore I did. I also never had any indoctrination that one way of believing was any better or worse than another way. I am grateful for that. I have plenty of stuff to unlearn in this lifetime, but I don't have any sense of guilt that some might experience from staying home on a Sunday morning, or that I currently do not hold membership in any organized religious body. And I may become a member of a spiritual fellowship in the future, if Spirit moves me to do so.
Even with all this freedom, spirituality has been slow to develop with me. I read and hear spiritual information that rings true to me, but have had difficulty over the years internalizing what I hear and read. It's as though part of me really grasps onto it, and part of me rejects it. The path from my head to my heart is often a lot longer than the physical 18 inches.
But what I wanted to write about today is the concept that God, or Spirit, or Source, or Creator, or whatever term fits best for you, is inside each and every one of us. Not just because we've been baptized, or confirmed, or had our willies snipped - the Spirit of the Universe is within us since birth. Our connection to Source is our birthright. I understand that many faiths say one must go through some sort of ceremony to get God, but even in the Christian tradition, Jesus did not indicate that. "And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, 'The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you'." (Luke 17:20-21, KJV) (I think the red lettering is a nice touch). Jesus' statement comes with no qualifiers. Jesus' mission on Earth was to show others how to connect with God, and if there had been qualifiers, surely He would have mentioned them? Many of the commonly accepted qualifiers for becoming a child of God expressed in the Christian faiths originated from theologians after Jesus' death.
The concept of a Higher Power being already factory-installed within us is important in recovery. I do believe for myself that a Higher Power is necessary to recover from addiction and mental illness, and understanding that it is already present is often essential. Both addiction and mental health conditions come with a lot of shame - we believe we're bad, defective people. Certainly God, who is all good, would have nothing to do with us because we're deficient, defective, and just plain bad. That's not just theory; millions, perhaps billions, of people feel cut off from Source because of what they've done or who their society says they are. The problem is that we are unable to live up to God's standards.
But, lo and behold, mainstream religion has given us an out - if we repent, we can experience redemption and be saved. That means, if we we renounce our former lives, and behave ourselves and start doing certain things, God will love us unconditionally, and everything will be great.
There are a couple of problems with this: for people with mental health issues or addiction issues, it's really difficult, if not impossible, to shed the shame of being a sinful, defective human being, so we bring our sense of shame into this perfect relationship with God, and that automatically sullies the relationship. Self-forgiveness is not an easy task! Second, to anybody who thinks too much, and usually people who live with mental health conditions think way too much for their own good, this concept of receiving conditional unconditional love doesn't really make sense.
What If
Try this on for size: The Hebrew Bible in Genesis 1:27 (KJV) tells us that, "So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them." It's fairly obvious that we didn't create ourselves, and if God created us, He probably created us as He is, seeing as He had nothing else to go on. So, if we're direct descendants of Source, we must have everything It has. Everything. Meaning, perhaps, (heretic alert) we have as much power, energy, and love within us as God has. Meaning, also, that it would also be very hard for Source to hate and reject Its own creation.
God, in order to be God, is Omniscient (all knowing), Omnipotent (all powerful), and Omnipresent (everywhere). The omniscient part means that nothing gets by God. Nothing. Even if you have the covers on. So is it possible, seeing that God is Omniscient, Omnipotent, and Omnipresent, for His creation, created in His image, to do anything that goes against His grain? If God is all good, and He created everything (including us) how can anything be bad?
Now try this on for size: What if we're eternal beings - our consciousnesses are points or particles (or maybe waves) of Source, and we've always been and always will be. We already know Source is creative - look up into the night sky, and you can see it! What if we're eternal beings, and this particular life is a physical incarnation that we chose, and we come to Earth as little bundles of Source, with all the attributes of Source, but completely dependent upon others for our physical survival? What if, in the struggle to maintain this physical existence, we forget where we came from and who we really are?
What if the point of all of this is that Source wants to experience all the infinite possibilities of physical life, and that's why we're here? What if part of the joy of living is the journey back to remembering who we really are? What if all of the discomfort and pain and hurt we experience in this lifetime comes from our forgetfulness of who we really are?
And what if it is possible to live as Jesus (and a few others) have - in complete knowing of our Oneness with the Creator while we're here in this physical plane? What if part of our purpose is to discover our own Divinity and to share our experience with others searching for theirs? What would that look like?
So that's the whole deal for me - my life, right now, is about understanding that I am learning to release my little higher powers (addictions, shame, dysfunctional thinking, beliefs in disconnect) in order to remember that I Am connected to Source, and that my life is very important because while I am experiencing it, so is Source, and Source has never experienced life like this before. What if Source loves me even when I don't? What if Source is always available to me, I just have to learn how to tune into the right frequency?
This is actually working in my life. I come from a hopeless state of mind and body to a person living successfully among his peers. Much of my path has been and is unlearning the things I've learned that don't match my vision of Source. I do that in many ways - therapy, recovery programs, fellowship with others on the same path, reading and learning new ways of looking at life, prayer and meditation.
I still want to learn to fly.
Namasté
Ken
Sunday, September 2, 2018
Discovering What Works for Me
Sometimes I think my story is one of growing up and trying to live without a pair. I have a little (or maybe big) rebel inside who wanted to run away by the time 6th grade rolled around. I didn't physically begin running away until I was 26 or 27, but I certainly figured out how to escape using chemicals.
I didn't balk at my first residential alcoholism treatment at age 21. I feel like that was a mistake. My drinking was certainly a problem for a lot of folks around me, but for me, drinking was still the solution. I tried to stay sober for those whom I thought wanted me sober. On the plus side, I did learn a whole lot about alcoholism, and how to recover, during those early stabs at recovery. On the down side, I didn't find out why I wanted recovery for 3 decades.
So it's no great shock that I never learned to open up and trust others to guide me. It's no great shock that I never learned to trust myself. My motto was, "Lay low, and avoid doing anything to make anyone notice you're alive." I wanted the least amount of trouble out of this lifetime as possible.
I've recently acquired a new spiritual adviser. The funny thing is, a little part of me wonders whom I could ask for approval for my choice. Not too long ago, I would have cried that I still have vestiges of that person who couldn't make a move without someone else's approval. Today, for the most part, I'm a man who owns his own life - meaning I look inside for what I need and want, and take responsibility for my choices. Living like this is still relatively new to me, but it's a lot more satisfying than the way I used to live - afraid of my own shadow, and afraid that someone would disapprove of me and my choices. That's an awful way to live.
What brings all of this up right now is that I work with others who seek support in their recoveries from addiction and/or mental illness. I am trained to do this, and I have a wealth of experience. What I love about my job is that we follow SAMHSA's recovery guidelines, and one of the tenets is that recovery is person-driven - in other words, each individual gets to define what they want recovery to look like for them. In the long run, that's the only way it really works. But for many years, I tried to make a certain recovery program that wasn't a real good fit for me work for me. This program is great for those who are classic alcoholics, because it was created by two men who were classic alcoholics. There is nothing written in this particular program that says, "This is the only way to recover from alcoholism." The writer of the basic text was a recovery explorer himself; he also lived with depression, and, from reading his biography, I got the impression that he was never fully satisfied with his recovery, although he did stay sober through the rest of his life. However, the message I received from others working this program in my area was, "This is the only way to recover." And, because I hadn't yet accepted that I also live with a mental health condition, I tried to make this recovery program work - time and time again. It made me both angry and ashamed - I seemed to do more than a lot of folks to stay sober and to get a decent life, and it just didn't happen for me. I was only able to reinforce my belief that I was a loser at life.
I don't call people out, but nowadays when I hear someone say, "This is the only thing that works," I cringe inside. I've been to funerals of sober alcoholics who died by suicide. Can you imagine being so low, wondering why you're feeling this way sober, and knowing that you've failed at the 'only thing that works'? I can. I lived that.
Today, I let folks know that it's ok to live the way they want to live. Many of the people with whom I work live with shame of not living up to made-up standards - in other words, the rest of their family has degrees, and they don't, or they should have been married at 26 (I was married once at 26, and it was probably about 50 years too soon), or they're not making enough money, or their disability is such that they can't work full-time (which is another construct), or even at all. It's a shame, I think, that we've made boxes for people to fit in, and more of a shame that those of us who don't fit in these boxes are looked down upon. Even in recovery there are boxes. I believe today that we've been created to experience all the infinite possibilities of life, not to fit into a narrow definition of what a 'proper' life 'should' look like. Today I'm discovering who I am and learning to live who I am unashamedly.
So I share with the people I work with good evidence-based recovery tools; but I also encourage them to find out what works for them. Recovery is not meant to be, I believe, a one- size-fits-all orange jumpsuit; I believe it can be a finely tailored expression of all we are inside - beautiful, strong, courageous creations with a lot to offer to life.
I've been holding that in for a long time. It feels good to express it.
Namasté,
I didn't balk at my first residential alcoholism treatment at age 21. I feel like that was a mistake. My drinking was certainly a problem for a lot of folks around me, but for me, drinking was still the solution. I tried to stay sober for those whom I thought wanted me sober. On the plus side, I did learn a whole lot about alcoholism, and how to recover, during those early stabs at recovery. On the down side, I didn't find out why I wanted recovery for 3 decades.
So it's no great shock that I never learned to open up and trust others to guide me. It's no great shock that I never learned to trust myself. My motto was, "Lay low, and avoid doing anything to make anyone notice you're alive." I wanted the least amount of trouble out of this lifetime as possible.
I've recently acquired a new spiritual adviser. The funny thing is, a little part of me wonders whom I could ask for approval for my choice. Not too long ago, I would have cried that I still have vestiges of that person who couldn't make a move without someone else's approval. Today, for the most part, I'm a man who owns his own life - meaning I look inside for what I need and want, and take responsibility for my choices. Living like this is still relatively new to me, but it's a lot more satisfying than the way I used to live - afraid of my own shadow, and afraid that someone would disapprove of me and my choices. That's an awful way to live.
What brings all of this up right now is that I work with others who seek support in their recoveries from addiction and/or mental illness. I am trained to do this, and I have a wealth of experience. What I love about my job is that we follow SAMHSA's recovery guidelines, and one of the tenets is that recovery is person-driven - in other words, each individual gets to define what they want recovery to look like for them. In the long run, that's the only way it really works. But for many years, I tried to make a certain recovery program that wasn't a real good fit for me work for me. This program is great for those who are classic alcoholics, because it was created by two men who were classic alcoholics. There is nothing written in this particular program that says, "This is the only way to recover from alcoholism." The writer of the basic text was a recovery explorer himself; he also lived with depression, and, from reading his biography, I got the impression that he was never fully satisfied with his recovery, although he did stay sober through the rest of his life. However, the message I received from others working this program in my area was, "This is the only way to recover." And, because I hadn't yet accepted that I also live with a mental health condition, I tried to make this recovery program work - time and time again. It made me both angry and ashamed - I seemed to do more than a lot of folks to stay sober and to get a decent life, and it just didn't happen for me. I was only able to reinforce my belief that I was a loser at life.
I don't call people out, but nowadays when I hear someone say, "This is the only thing that works," I cringe inside. I've been to funerals of sober alcoholics who died by suicide. Can you imagine being so low, wondering why you're feeling this way sober, and knowing that you've failed at the 'only thing that works'? I can. I lived that.
Today, I let folks know that it's ok to live the way they want to live. Many of the people with whom I work live with shame of not living up to made-up standards - in other words, the rest of their family has degrees, and they don't, or they should have been married at 26 (I was married once at 26, and it was probably about 50 years too soon), or they're not making enough money, or their disability is such that they can't work full-time (which is another construct), or even at all. It's a shame, I think, that we've made boxes for people to fit in, and more of a shame that those of us who don't fit in these boxes are looked down upon. Even in recovery there are boxes. I believe today that we've been created to experience all the infinite possibilities of life, not to fit into a narrow definition of what a 'proper' life 'should' look like. Today I'm discovering who I am and learning to live who I am unashamedly.
So I share with the people I work with good evidence-based recovery tools; but I also encourage them to find out what works for them. Recovery is not meant to be, I believe, a one- size-fits-all orange jumpsuit; I believe it can be a finely tailored expression of all we are inside - beautiful, strong, courageous creations with a lot to offer to life.
I've been holding that in for a long time. It feels good to express it.
Namasté,
Ken
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