Infinite Possibility

One of the foundations of my recovery from alcoholism/addiction and major depression is the belief that things can get better, and it must be a sustainable belief – a belief that can stand against the winds of chaos and disorder that come and go throughout life. Whether I’ve been in recovery or out of recovery, alcoholism and depression have been the dominant factors running my life. In early recovery, I needed the hope that ‘things’ could get better, and they did – but the hope I received in early recovery was not sustainable when I began to again experience the natural ups and downs of life. Simply being alcohol/drug free and relatively depression free at times did not suddenly give me the qualities of resilience, persistence, and wisdom; in other words, brief respites from my illness did not give me the ability to handle that which I never knew how to adequately handle before. I needed more – a lot more. I hope to share through the next few paragraphs how glimmers of hope in my life evolved into some faith, then belief, and then into a deep knowing – a deep knowing that not only is recovery very possible, but also that life is good, I have a place in this life, and that the Universe supports not only my journey in recovery, but my journey to my highest good. Might be a bit much for just a few paragraphs, but we’ll give it a try and see what happens.

My life has been all about alcoholism and mental illness. I have started and stopped recovery more times than I can probably remember. But there have been positive constants throughout as well, and the two major ones are hope and good people. There have always been angels who have shown up to guide me back to a place of hopefulness, where I could get back on the path toward wellness. Sometimes my angels wore badges and sidearms; often they wore stethoscopes and scrubs; but most just wore plain clothes and caring hearts. In early recovery, we look to people and things outside ourselves to help or make ourselves get better. That’s a good start, but today I believe that eventually I must find my recovery from within, if I am going to reside permanently in recovery. The thing that held me back for so many years was the fear of looking within. I knew that I could not bear to take a good honest look at the ugliness and darkness that was within me. I knew that examining my insides would overwhelm me and kill me. Hope is a nice thing, a great thing sometimes, but it was never big enough or strong enough to break through that wall.

My hope had to turn into faith – some sort of faith that somebody or something could help me. I developed a faith in institutions, such as the mental health industry and mutual aid recovery organizations. I also developed a spiritual faith, and my mainline for that was through New Thought Christianity organizations – specifically Unity and Religious Science/Science of Mind. My involvement with these organizations, and my independent spiritual studies, were helpful in offering me a different, better, more positive outlook on myself, life, and the Universe. However, despite all my involvement over the years with spiritual people and spiritual organizations, I was not able to develop a faith that worked for me in the long run. As I mentioned in my post Life Doesn't Get Any Better, I had (still have!) tons of helpful knowledge and experience that never traversed the 18” distance from my head to my heart. My faith was head-faith – intellectually, I know that we live in a Universe that supports Life. It’s that simple, really. We would not be here if the Universe didn’t support Life. But when that head faith tried to turn into heart faith, it always ran into the wall of existing belief, and could not get over it or through it.

That existing belief was built, as all our existing beliefs are, in childhood through various learning experiences. My existing belief (and please forgive me for beating a thankfully dead horse) was that I was bad, I was defective, I was unlovable, and I wasn’t capable of being even close to good enough and I really didn’t deserve to live. Yes, the conscious part of my brain knew, knows, that that’s all complete bullshit. But the part of me (us) that matters, the part that governs up to 95% of my life choices, my subconscious, did not know that. (This is one of the reasons I’m an over-thinker – my conscious brain has had to race to keep up with my subconscious, and many times it just gave up).

So how was I able to begin breaking down that wall of existing belief, and begin the process of turning my intellectual knowing into a deep knowing that could actually serve me in life?

At the time, I wasn’t really aware of the process, but in retrospect, I see that I did begin to really understand that I’m at the end of the road.  I’m going to die soon, anyway, so what’s the point of protecting that dark ugliness within anymore? And I had the opportunity about two years ago in therapy to experience EMDR(Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) Therapy. EMDR is for those of us whose mental health has been adversely affected by traumatic experiences. Now the important part of this for me is I had and still have absolutely no idea how this stuff works – it’s a mystery to me. Every other therapy I’ve experienced I’ve been able to cognitively grasp – at one point or another, it made sense to me. I can’t cognitively explain why EMDR should work – but it did. It began to break through that subconscious, granite wall that was there, and I found myself beginning to be able to actually apply the other tools I had learned over the years to let myself heal. And because it’s still an absolute mystery to me, it began to clear the path from my head down to my heart. I have begun to replace the beliefs with which I started this lifetime with healthy beliefs. This, in turn, has instilled new hope and a stronger faith within me that no longer has to battle daily just to stay alive.

And because I am now beginning to clearly see and know that those initial beliefs – that dark, scary ugliness – is not the truth about me, I have less fear, more courage, and more reason to connect with others in a very real way – I am able to let others in and share the ugliness I see within when I need to. My last relapse gave me the courage to start developing real, honest connections with others. Let me tell you, there is a huge difference in me sharing my most vulnerable parts with loved ones whom I love, care about, and respect than there is with someone whom I pay to listen to me. I risk losing people I truly love and care about when I share those things within that make me want to lose myself. So far, nobody has kicked me to the curb for sharing that I am a less-than-perfect human being. In fact, it seems to me that every step I take toward being real actually draws others closer to me. Who knew?

To be clear, the damage I created in my life, in me, is not totally healed or repaired. Every day I must practice – I must use the tools I’ve learned and accepted in my heart in order to continue to heal. But the good news is that nowadays life is tons easier and more enjoyable than it was when I was struggling to stay ahead of a subconscious that just did not work anymore.

So that’s where Infinite Possibility comes from – if I am possible, and I certainly seem to be, then absolutely anything is possible, including you! When I listen to people telling me their challenges, my human mind wants to find ways to fix them, and often comes up short. Practical suggestions are great, and I openly share all I’ve learned in that regard; but when I listen with my heart and respond with love, support and encouragement, I help open the door for others to find where the answers truly are – inside.

Namasté,

Ken  

 

Anatomy of a Save

I experienced a textbook save the other morning, and I thought I might share it. A 'save' is anytime my thinking is getting shitty (hence the term stinkin' thinkin'), and something happens or I do something to turn it around and get my head back in recovery. 

This particular morning I was feeling sort of tired and part of me didn't want to go to work. The day before I got a little too much sun, and I was feeling it. I went in anyway, and began my advertising/blessing 'work'. Some days I experience an almost total lack of ambition, and today was one of those days. I started my work, and I was blessing drivers as they passed, hoping to get into the spirit of it. It wasn't really happening, and during gaps in traffic, my mind was turning to the stimulus check that is supposed to be in the mail.

I have good plans for that check when it comes when I'm in my right mind. My thoughts that day were not coming from my right mind - they were coming from an alcoholic mind. I was thinking about taking that check and having one big, final party. No, that's not rational thinking, but rational thinking doesn't go with alcoholism, and at that point, my mind was definitely alcoholic, even though I had had nothing to drink.

And I was suffering, switching back and forth between blessing others and stinkin' thinkin'. I was really trying to get my thinking back on the right track, and it wasn't working.

A recovery text I use says that at times, the sober alcoholic has no mental defense against the first drink - that this defense must come from a Higher Power. About a 1/2 hour into work, my sponsor (recovery trainer, spiritual mentor, etc.) rolled up on his way to work. He lives about a 1/4 mile away, but this is the first time he's stopped by while I'm working to say hi. I stopped what I was doing to talk with him. He asked how I was doing and I said, "Fine," because that's my automatic response. Then I said, "Wait a minute, I'm not fine," and I talked to him about what I was struggling with.

It is not easy for me to talk about my thinking when I'm struggling. When I'm down in any kind of stinkin' thinkin' (fear, self-pity, resentment), I know my thoughts make sense only to me - but they still make sense. And what is worse is that I think I can think myself back on to the right side of the street. Sometimes I can, if I only meet the unwanted thinking at the door; but sometimes, I invite the thinking inside and begin entertaining it. Bad news! And I don't want to share what's going on with anyone, because they'll think (know) that I'm crazy, or think I'm stupid or bad for possessing such thinking. The truth is that I'm the only one who ever judges me as crazy, bad, or stupid (at least that I'm aware of). So I was very grateful when I told my sponsor the truth of what was going on.

And it was ok. He did laugh, but he didn't call me crazy, stupid, or bad. He understood, and he empathized. He said it won't always be that way - my thinking won't always revert to alcoholic thinking when (relatively) large sums of money come my way or something else happens. And by talking to my sponsor - someone who is understanding - I was allowing Light to be shed on my darkness, and the darkness dissipated. And that's what made this a save - I was able to return to my job with my mind freed from obsession, and my enthusiasm for what I was doing - what was in front of me - returned.

Earlier I mentioned that sometimes nothing but my Higher Power can keep me from drinking, or from the obsessive thinking that will lead me to drinking or worse. Because my connection with Spirit wasn't totally broken (I had prayed earlier that morning, and I was attempting to be a blessing to those around me), Spirit intervened by sending my sponsor by to say hello. And I want to emphasize that it was totally my choice whether to recognize that God had thrown me a life preserver or to ignore it and continue to try to wrestle with my darkness on my own. And I thanked my sponsor then and later, letting him know that his intervention really did make my day.

So that's the anatomy of a save:

• Greet unwanted thought at the door of my consciousness;
• Take the chain off the door and invite the unwanted thought into my consciousness;
• Entertain the unwanted thought until it becomes unwanted thinking (obsession);
• Try on my own to kick the obsession out - struggle with it and suffer;
• Call on my Higher Power to remove the obsession (or at least be open to a solution);
• Recognize and be willing to utilize the solution when it appears.

God continues to watch over me, but I must continue to allow Him to do His healing work by becoming willing, open, and vulnerable and standing out of the way.

Namasté,

Ken

Miracles Happen

Two days ago I sold my car. On December 1st I earned a DUI, so my license is suspended until the case is determined, and I needed the money, so why not? I received $2400 cash. That's not the miracle - I probably could've gotten a bit more, as there were at least 40 hits on my FB ad. I wanted to have an auction! Here's where the miracle starts - I met with the first person who responded, and he bought the car. As it turns out he is in recovery from heroin addiction for 5 years, and we had a lot to talk about as we drove around Waukesha. (By the way, for anybody who cares, the accent on Waukesha is on the first syllable, not the second - it's WAU kee shaw). The miracle completes with what I didn't do. I had $2400 cash in hand, and what I would've done without a doubt some years ago is fly to Vegas and go on a killer bender. I did not do that. I put the money in the bank and wrote checks to people to whom I owe money. Miracles aren't always flashy.

Miracles are personal. We can observe someone else's miracle, but we can't experience it. I can observe a miraculous healing in someone else, but I don't get to experience it until the healing happens in me.

When I was a member of Unity Church of Christianity, I heard often that Jesus wasn't the exception, He was the example. Jesus discovered His oneness with God (Source) and His oneness with all of Creation - this is why He could seemingly manipulate circumstances and produce miracles. Some will tell you that Jesus didn't perform miracles - He simply saw what was possible in people, and people who had faith in Him responded accordingly.

Take the paralyzed fellow who was laying by the pool of Bethesda for 38 years waiting for someone to help him in while the waters were roiled. Jesus asked him if he'd like to be healed, and the man explained his situation, so Jesus said, "Not a problem!", and nudged the man with His foot so he rolled into the pool and he was healed! Sometimes we just need a little nudge! But what the Bible says happened (John 5:1-9) is that Jesus told him to take up his mat and walk, and the man did so - he was healed. Jesus had the ability to see past appearances, and know the Truth - that God is in us all, and all things are possible with God. The man at the pool had the miracle in him all along, he just needed a little nudge from someone in whom he had faith.

And that's what we need in recovery from mental illness and addiction - someone who believes in us and in whom we can believe. We don't recover by accident. 

Miracles are extraordinary - outside of the ordinary - events. The person who lives after receiving a death sentence from their doctor. The homeless person who meets 'by chance' the right person on the street who sets him on the path to homefulness. The person who recovers from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body, and ends up staying sober for the rest of their life. The person whose life is destroyed by mental illness, finds ways to recover, and ends up with a better life than they had before. All of us in recovery have experienced a miracle - the unfortunate fact is that most people who become alcoholic will remain alcoholic until the end of their lives, so recovery is definitely an extraordinary event - a miracle. It doesn't mean that those who don't recover can't experience the miracle, it just means they haven't yet. All of us, when we develop the ability to look past or above appearances, can experience miracles. It takes faith, courage, and an open mind.

I am fortunate today. I believe things can be different. I believe I can be different. I have the faith, the courage, and the open, expectant mind to receive miracles in my life. I look past the mountain of debt; I look past my history; I look to the angels in my life, and I look forward to a clean, sane life filled with joy and purpose. And so it is! Thank you God!

Namasté,

Ken

Let's Get Real!

From "The Velveteen Rabbit," Margery Williams, 1922

I have survived, despite a half-century of self-neglect and self-abuse. Much of the self-destructiveness I practiced centered around my fear of living life and my fear of me. There is a spark of life within me that even I don't have the power to snuff out. When I accepted that reality, I knew that I must begin to learn to face the biggest obstacle to me living a decent life - me.

Most people understand shortly after they begin their recovery journey that they are going to have to face some things - that part (or maybe all) of our addiction comes from the desire to cover up what we don't like or fear about ourselves. We basically have to face our darkest secrets in recovery. That can be scary. No matter what the darkness is - resentment, fear, shame from being abused or from being the abuser - whatever - it is poison, because it remains deeply hidden within us, away from any kind of light. Our secrets and our shame becomes a cancer, and, if left untreated, eventually destroys us.

Now, almost none of us walks into a recovery meeting the first time, or into treatment, and blurts out, "Hi, my name is so-and-so and I hate my mother." Rarely happens.  Much of the time, our 'stuff' that we carry into recovery is a tangled mess - so much so, we are often unaware of all of it, and we need assistance with untangling it all.

When we were young, many of us learned we had a 'permanent record', and that it was a very bad thing to have anything on this permanent record. Say you stepped on a crack in the third grade. You were worried for the rest of the day, knowing that your mom was lying on the kitchen floor, unable to move, because you were careless and broke her back. So, you get home as fast as you can to rescue mom, and discover that she's just fine - no broken back. On the one hand, that's awesome! We didn't permanently injure mom! On the other hand, that stepping on a crack was still a bad thing to do, even though it seems like it had no effect - this time. In the 3rd grade we did not possess the critical thinking skills to determine the difference between the truth and bs. And then, one of (at least) two things happen - we learn that, perhaps, in certain circumstances, maybe we can get away with doing something 'bad', or, we thank God, or our lucky stars or whatever, that we didn't break mom's back through our carelessness, and vow to never, ever, ever step on a crack again.

But what about that permanent record? If we get a C in geometry, it might prevent us from getting into the finest post-secondary education, and we'll end up with crappy jobs for the rest of our lives, marry beneath our station, have ugly, delinquent children, and be miserable, unhealthy wrecks until the day we die.  And, because we got that C in geometry, we might end up hanging around with the wrong bunch, and get into smoking cigarettes, drinking, and maybe even sex. All of that goes on our permanent record, which, if it isn't perfect, guarantees us to have a shitty life.

Yes, the two examples - hurting someone through doing something innocent like stepping on a crack, or ruining our lives because we're average in math - are outrageous examples as we read them with an adult brain. But the concept isn't outrageous. As children, we learned that our parents and elders were always right (or we learned to not trust). So, if someone tells us we're going to go to hell because we swore or told a lie or stole something, or, if in a moment of anger, we said, "Dad, I hate you!", that can stick with us even as adults who understand that that Hell probably isn't going to happen. (Imagine how confused a person must get if they're told they're bad by an abuser. That's a mess to untangle!).

So everybody has a dark side. Everybody learns to cover it up. If one is a human being without an addiction or a mental health condition, one could probably go their whole lives without shame affecting them much. However, in addiction and mental illness, any shame we have is magnified and multiplied, because it is food for the addiction and or mental health condition. But every human being presents a 'socialized' self to the outer world, and the self we present is rarely if ever a perfect reflection of who we really feel we are on the inside.

My experience has been that if I want to recover, I have to get as close a match between my outside representation of myself and how I am on the inside. It's scary and challenging. I can say, however, that it is not only possible, but one of the best things I could ever do for myself. Here are some of the benefits of getting real that I've experienced:

• I no longer walk around with a nagging worry that someone will 'discover' me and reject me;
• I experience more peace and happiness with who I am;
• I have a better group of friends than I've ever had, and I haven't had to bribe or coerce them to be my friends - they're real, too;
• I have more mental energy to focus on the things I love, because I'm using less to keep up an image;
• I have less depression, and I self-sabotage a lot less;
• I get to stay sober;
• I no longer feel like a fraud every.single.day;
• I trust others more;
• I trust myself more;
• I believe my opening up, being real, and showing that it's not only possible but desirable allows others to be real;
• My relationships are real (and, conversely, fake folks drop away);
• I grow to love myself and humanity more.

These are just some of the benefits of allowing myself to be the person that the Universe created. It's all about freedom - that which we cry for so much, yet push away by our actions. And I understand today that my flaws and imperfections are there as ways to connect with my Higher Power and others; because, trust me, if I were perfect, I wouldn't have nothin' to do with nobody. This I know.

It is a scary process, but one which is quite doable if done prudently with safe people. A person probably doesn't want to walk into the biker bar they've been going to for the past twenty years one night and announce that they're gay. However, there are other ways to come to healthy grips with who we are. If you're interested in doing this, start by finding someone who has done it themselves.

Shakespeare wrote, "To thine own self be true." He knew. He knew.

Namaste,

Ken

More Than Enough

(Originally titled "Money Matters")

I was in court on December 27th to take care of a traffic ticket. I wasn't going to try to say that the deputy was wrong, that I didn't go before the light turned green; I surely did do that, right in front of one of Waukesha County's finest. I didn't go to court to get the fine reduced, or to make a payment plan. I simply wanted to see if I could get the charge amended to a no-point violation so that my insurance rates wouldn't go up. (This is a common practice - if one shows up for court, and hasn't been a real bad driver, the court will usually reduce the charge, but still gratefully accept your money). So I did the deal and paid my fine, grateful that I did get the charge reduced to 'improper signal', and grateful that I had the money to pay the $175.30 fine. What was unusual was that I didn't kick myself for wasting money on a fine. In years past, that's been the worst thing about traffic tickets - paying out money and getting nothing in return. 

I like to ponder when I experience an attitudinal change, because it doesn't happen all that often. I think part of not being angry that I shot $175 for nothing is that I've been working on being more accepting of me and my behavior and beating myself up less; but I think the bigger reason is that lately I've consistently felt like I have everything I need. 

I'm going to interject here and say "Nada me falta," which is
Spanish. It translates literally into 'nothing lacks me', and figuratively into 'I lack nothing or nothing is lacking in me.' It's from the Spanish version of the 23rd Psalm: "El Senor es mi Pastor; nada me falta." Our English version says, "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want." Sometimes the Spanish version of things makes more sense to me, and in this case it certainly does. If the English version said, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I want for nothing," that would make more sense to me, because that is the belief that I've been cultivating within myself.

2017 was a phenomenal year for me as far as finances go. No, I didn't win the lottery, and nobody wealthy who likes me died. I went to work and lived within my means. So what's so phenomenal about that?

It's the 2nd full year that I've been able to live without financial assistance from friends, family, or friendly decedents - for the first time in my life. And two and a half years ago I believed I'd never work again and that I'd have to go on disability. 

I was thinking back to circa 2008 - at that time, I lived in a two-income household, was paying about the same rent I'm paying now, had received a small inheritance from my aunt, and I was making about $3 an hour more than I make now, and we still couldn't make ends meet. So what is the difference between then and now, or between two years ago and now?

The difference is that I began to live what I want to believe. I began to rely upon my Higher Power, even when I had no personal evidence that would assure me that it worked. I've known in my head for a long time that, being a child of God, or a child of the Universe, that all of my needs are already met. They can't not be. What kept me in a constant state of lack was the fear of the unknown - what would happen if I let go of my addictions and my unhealthy attitudes? Remember, from previous posts, that my addictions and my unhealthy attitudes served me very well at one time. They were my friends. They allowed me to get through situations that I thought I couldn't survive. The situations are long gone, but the addictions and attitudes survived. 

So I had to take this leap of faith. Of course, it wasn't that much of a leap of faith, for I had nothing to lose but my life, and I was already willing to do that. Often the most faithful people are also the most desperate. So I went against the grain in my head, and I began to rely upon and trust in my Higher Power. I took the Universe up on its deal, which is, simply this: I (the Universe) will take care of you if you let Me.

I began to live in this manner: So long as I keep moving forward and doing what's in front of me, I don't have to worry about having enough or about getting what I need. Of course, I had to lower my expectations on what I need to basic clothing, basic transportation, food, and a roof over my head. Along with that, I began to practice gratitude. And from this simple practice, my faith developed and strengthened, because I could see it working. 

I still have debt, but I've cleared away thousands of dollars in debt over the past two years. Most importantly to me, I don't owe any individuals any money. I still have between $40k and $80k in debt. It is made up of student loans and money I owe to counties for past treatments, and I'm working on that. (I'll note here that I have a $40k bill from 20 years ago that I'm ambivalent about paying. I probably will pay some day, just to be able to say that I did).  I have faith that if I continue as I am going, I will get my debt cleared up. The most important thing, though, is that debt does not weigh me down. I am not controlled by it, and neither are my feelings.

So, back to the top - what makes it ok for me today to throw away $175.30 on a traffic ticket? I know today, I live with the feeling today, that I have more than enough to do what I need to do today, even if I make a mistake. So, I'm not going to drive around with a devil-may-care attitude; but, I do know today that mistakes are allowed. My success is not contingent upon me living life perfectly, and that's a very good thing, because I don't live life perfectly. I do my best, and try to learn from my mistakes. So I have this feeling of security that comes from knowing that it's all good. 

I know today, too, that faith can grow infinitely - in other words, I'm going to encounter situations that will cause me to have to exercise my faith muscle and make it even stronger. I feel like I'm getting to a place in life where I look forward to challenges more than I dread them.

Namaste,

Ken

Are We There Yet?

I recently surpassed 30 months of recovery. It wasn't a milestone that I was looking for; I happened to be in a recovery meeting and simply counted how many months I've been in recovery, and I was surprised - 30 months seems like a long time to me! And, in truth, it is the longest that I've ever been in this kind of recovery. 30 months is a long time, if taken a month at a time. Taken day by day, or even moment by moment, it goes by relatively quickly.

I've heard that recovery/sobriety is a journey, not a destination. It's a neat concept to think about, and perhaps a comforting thought if I'm not where I want to be after 30 days, or 6 months, or 2 years. But what does it really mean? What does it feel like to be on this journey with no visible or even conceptual end? If there isn't a pinnacle, or a finish line, then what is there?

I was chatting with my supervisor the other day (the same one who called me an overachiever for oversleeping), and I happened to mention that what my aim is in recovery is to die from something besides alcoholism or suicide. That's not really the aim of recovery, but a 'successful' recovery from alcoholism/depression ends with a heart attack, or a car accident, or maybe a jealous ex-boyfriend - who knows? So we pretty much know what the destination of this plane of existence is - the transition from this physical plane to the next, whatever that looks like.

But I've lived a destination-oriented life before, and it's not enjoyable. It's filled with disappointment. For me, the disappointment usually came in the form of missing my destination, but sometimes it came in the form of making my destination, and finding out it wasn't the heaven I'd imagined it to be. 

I couldn't wait to get to high school - I'd be a big kid then, and life would be fun. I got to high school. I wasn't a big kid, parts of high school were fun, but for the most part, it sucked. So I couldn't wait to graduate from high school - I had it set up that I was going out of state for college, and I was really looking forward to that! I'd be free, and be rid of my crappy high school and the crappy town in which I grew up, and I could go have fun as a young adult and be on the road to success - life would be great! Well, I had a lot more fun after high school than I did in high school, but after a while, it began to suck as well. I spent the next 20 years looking for just the right physical situation/location where I could be successful and happy. I didn't find it, but, as I began to get tired of searching, I ended up back in Wisconsin, and very, very slowly began to learn that what I was seeking was inside of me, not outside of me. 

I began to learn that God was inside of me, rather than outside, and life was what I chose it to be, not what happened to me. I had a lot of difficulty with the concept that everything I needed was already here, inside, ready and waiting - not because I couldn't grasp it intellectually, but because I felt so rotten on the inside, I didn't believe it applied to me. There was no way I could be goodness and light, because I was such a useless piece of crap.

But the good news is that, by some miracle, I stuck around on this vile, barren, piece of shit rock floating in an empty, barren universe (now if that's not a depressing thought, I don't know what is!) long enough to begin to see some light. The patient and gentle people in my life led me to believe that I might have it all wrong - that my concept of me and my life was light years away from the Truth of my being.

Somewhere along the line, I learned how to 'be in the moment' - to be right here, right now, rather than in the past (depressing) or in the future (fearful and anxious). And do you know what I found in this moment? Nothing. Absolutely nothing! But I found out that nothing was what I've been looking for, and nothing is better than what I had. There was no past and no future, there was only the here and now, and because there is nothing in this moment, there is room for me to make this moment whatever I want it to be.

And that's what the journey is becoming for me - finding out what I can put into each moment to make life a blessed, peaceful, joyous experience. The destination is the next moment. There are 24 hours in this day, 1,440 minutes, 86,400 seconds. And in those 86,400 seconds, there are an infinite number of moments. So I have, each day, at least 86,400 opportunities to find out what I can give or what I can do or how I can show up to create more heaven on Earth. And that is the Truth. My only limit is the present state of my imagination. That's pretty awesome, and it makes the journey something to look forward to rather than something to be endured.

So, fellow traveler, I wish you well on your journey today, and look forward to the moment when our paths collide again.

Namaste,

Ken 

Moving Through Fear

Fear is creepy for me - it creeps into my life, and I don't always recognize it for what it is until I'm paralyzed by it. I'm not good at recognizing fear. I don't seem to be good yet at feeling emotions (but I am getting a little better) and I think that accounts for not recognizing fear well. I don't often feel anxiety, or have other physical symptoms of fear, so I have to guess at it. More on that in a minute.

Yesterday, I had to shit or get off the pot. Not literally - I just had that moment when I had to decide to walk (or ride) through my fear, or let it overtake me. I have allowed fear to creep back into my life, and haven't done much about it. Yesterday I was going to go on my first real bicycle ride of the season. I didn't want to. I felt 'tired'. I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

It didn't make sense. I love bicycle riding. Yesterday was the perfect day for a ride - sort of cool, sunny, and fairly calm. I knew I would feel good after a ride. Over the past two years I've ridden over 3000 miles on my bicycle, and I had just had my wheels trued and tuned up my bike. There wasn't a think 
(←see that Freudian slip?) thing keeping me from my ride. 

So I got up and went, and had a great ride. But, it wasn't the reasoning that got me going. It was the recognition that I was going down the slippery slope of fear, one that will only lead to my next drink, which I'm still postponing. I don't know how much living in fear I can take before I relapse. I don't know, as far as my mental emotional state goes, where the point of no return is. So, it pays to not try to find out.

I'm thinking as I write this that it might be helpful to treat fear like I treat the first drink. The basis of physical sobriety is to abstain from the first drink - then one doesn't have to be concerned with which drink is going to cause trouble (is it the 3rd? The 5th? The one I take the morning after?) Perhaps the basis of emotional sobriety might be to stay away from the first 'drink' of fear.

Emotional sobriety isn't as clearly defined as is physical sobriety. For instance, I can blow into a breathalyzer right now (I actually have one here as I write this) and be able to tell whether or not there is any alcohol in my body. However, we haven't invented a device that can test my emotional sobriety - one that would measure my level of serenity, or check for negativity, anger, fear, arrogance, lack of gratitude, etc.

I've lived my whole life with a high level of fear and dread. I used to hate waking up and getting up in the morning. In fact, I used to pray to not wake up. I've gotten much better - now I only dislike getting up, and sometimes I'm even ok with it. Anyway, every day I would have to face living, and I hated it. So I learned work-arounds - ways to escape from the fear of life without actually escaping. Drinking, drugs, food, computer games, sleeping, sex - there are a lot of things that I used to escape. And I also learned not to feel. I became emotionally dead, and a very good actor.

Over the past two years, I've made a great deal of progress in reversing my fearful nature. Two of the big ones are that I no longer fear supporting myself, and I no longer fear your disapproval (much).  But there are a lot of areas that still need work.

So, without feeling when I'm fearful, as it seems quite a natural state by now, how do I know when I am allowing fear to inform me? I've been around the block enough to know most of the signs of my fearfulness:
Procrastination - totally centered around fear. Whatever I'm procrastinating about is something I fear doing.
Hatred - if I hate something or someone, there is fear surrounding it or them.
Avoidance - (very similar to procrastination) - if I'm avoiding something or someone, I fear it.
Sleepiness - If I'm craving sleep, especially when I don't have a physical reason to be tired, I'm fearful.
Food cravings - food cravings for foods that make me feel better are an indication that I'm being fearful about something.
Computer time - surfing the web is a great way to avoid!

I wrote in an earlier post about my discovery early on that I can view life as my Higher Power, or view my Higher Power as life. So long as I go from the standpoint that Life really is good and supportive, I can take what comes my way each day as lessons and experiences that are good for me, no matter what they might seem to be. When I began to embrace that, my life becomes much richer. 

Writing is often about self-discovery for me, and as I'm writing this, I realize that I have a huge opportunity here to step up my recovery program. I've gotten several signs lately that I can go ahead and begin living with less fear, less timidity. Today, I have a lot of faith and evidence to back up that I have nothing to fear. I like the idea expressed earlier that I can treat fear like the first drink, and stay away from it. When I feel like doing any of the things listed in the previous paragraph, I can simply go ahead an do what's in front of me to do. A large part of recovery is doing what I know to be healthy despite how I feel in the moment, and I can begin to expand the areas in which I do this. 

I really have nothing to fear anymore. I only need to go ahead and prove it to myself.

If you've read this far, I really do appreciate you! I'm coming up on two years of sobriety next month, and I recognize more and more each day how much my sobriety isn't my own - it's a result of awesome people in my life and a lot of things and people of which I may not currently be aware. I used to be the boy in the bubble - forever protected from the 'germs' of life, but incredibly miserable. The bubble is gone now, and I'm one with the 'germs', and it really is ok. Thank you for being a part of my life!

Namaste,

Ken

Passing Away

I hate writing about this. I really do.

I found out Saturday that someone in our recovery community passed away Friday night, probably from an overdose. It's very sad. She was a young person with a child. So she was someone's mother, someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's partner, and a lot of folks' friend.
So how does this happen? Why does this happen?

I've been around death since I was 2 years old. I started walking at one of my grandfather's funeral. When I was 7, I saw my aunt dying from stomach cancer. Throughout the years, I've been to the funerals of relatives and friends. I've missed some, too - a very good friend of mine from college passed away in 1988. He was 28 years old. So I know that physical death is a part of life.

The ones that bother me are the ones who pass young. A classmate who was stabbed to death by her boyfriend when she was 19 or 20. My friend who passed over the weekend. A friend from Boy Scouts who was one of the nicest guys you'd want to know passed in service to his country. There's more.

I don't get into the hows and whys too very much - it's not healthy. It's dabbling in that which is not mine to dabble in. Otherwise I start telling God who should stay and who should go. I've done that before. The whole thing is a great big mystery to me.

Why am I alive today? I've had several overdoses, two of which put me in comas. I've punished myself more than anyone else possibly could have. Yet I'm here today, living, breathing, thriving, while people much better than me [judgment] have passed on. There isn't any logic in it at all.

Spiritually I know that death is sort of like moving out of state - we only cease to exist in this particular physical realm. How many realms are out there, I don't know. If one is a Christian, then they know the words of Jesus, who mentioned to His disciples that His Father's house has many mansions. This indicates that there are many different 'places' for us to exist.

I read a recent statistic that said that people with a chronic mental condition (and addiction is a mental health condition) typically have a life span 25 years less than those without mental health conditions. That's a lot less!

But here's the real deal: Sometimes, maybe often, wonderful people who are a real asset to this world and who are much loved and admired die much too soon [judgment]. As an alcoholic, I can faithfully say that it would be my own inaccurate perception of myself that would cause me to die from my disease. In other words, I view myself, even today, much more harshly than anybody else on the planet. The shame and self-hatred that I carried within me caused me to go back to using alcohol and to other self-destructive behaviors often. One day, who knows when, I began to doubt my own thinking, and I began to look at how others seemed to perceive me. Eventually, because I found myself surrounded by people who looked at me much better than I looked at myself, I began to believe their perceptions more than my own. I began to behave as if my life has value, because obviously it does to those who support me. And that, I believe, is really the only reason that I am alive today - I was able to listen to someone else's thinking more than my own. Let me tell you that that is not an easy task. There is nothing in the world that I placed more value on than my own thinking.

So I understand how my friend went back to the thinking that caused her to die. And I'm sad. I'm sad that she could not see what a special and beautiful human being and child of God she was. I'm sad that she had people who were really close to her who now have an empty space inside of them.

And what can I do? What will I do? I can honor her memory by staying sober and staying in recovery. I can do what others have done for me - I will continue to encourage, support, and love those who live with addiction/alcoholism and other mental health conditions. I will not turn my back on others because it's too hard to see someone die from this - I will continue to develop my understanding that God is in all of us, and continue to develop my skills in helping others discover this Truth for themselves. And I will continue to live and thrive and love my life and myself just as it is and I am today, if only to show others that it is possible to live in recovery. We don't have to die from this disease.

It's the least I can do.

Namaste,

Ken