Life Lessons I Learn From Work - Lesson One: Isolated Incidents

Since I'm off work for the next 10 days (at least), I plan on using part of the time off to daily write in my blog. I am fortunate to be in a position at my job to learn wonderful lessons about how my mind works (and doesn't, sometimes) as well as strategies to flow through each day more effectively and with more peace and happiness. So I'm going to share some important things I've learned/am learning along the way at work.

Isolated Incidents 

Through practicing the 2nd and 4th foundations of Wise Mindfulness, I have begun to become skillful in noticing situations in which my mind, my thinking, can cause me suffering. The 2nd foundation of Wise Mindfulness is paying attention to feeling tones, or "noticing the emotional tone - pleasure or displeasure - that comes with every sensation, even when the sensation is a thought [emphasis added]." (Recovery Dharma, p. 45) The 4th foundation of Wise Mindfulness is mindfulness of mental objects: "we begin to simply notice when a thought arises, being aware of it without judgment or evaluation [emphasis added], and allowing it to pass away without holding onto it and without creating a story out of it [emphasis added]." (RD p. 46) Having a consistent meditation practice gives me the insight and power to actually notice when single thoughts arise and be able to let them go. How well I do it depends upon my intention and my mood.

So, at work, a lot of stuff happens. It's bound to happen - we sell thousands of products to hundreds of customers every day. For months and months I thought there was a chance that I could get ahead of the game, at least in my own little arena. I spent a lot of time feeling overwhelmed or at least anxious and frustrated. And when something would happen, like a spill to clean up, or something ordered didn't show up, or yesterday's work still needs to be done today - when something happened, it often fed the sick-but-not-yet-dead belief that it happened because I'm a bad person, and this would color, in a negative way, my thoughts and feelings toward myself and toward my job. 

I recently began treating, in my mindful mind, a lot of the stuff that would happen as isolated incidents. If there was a spill to clean up, I began focusing on thoughts about cleaning up the spill, and let go of the thoughts that were blaming, the thoughts about inconsiderate people, the thoughts about poor packaging design - all the stories I'd tell myself about why this event happened. The thoughts and feelings surrounding my stories in my head are negative and cause unhappiness. The thoughts and feelings surrounding simply doing what is mine to do (clean up a mess in my department) are neutral to positive thoughts and feelings. It's a really simple concept that took me years and years to get. I can use it anywhere - when I walk in the bathroom at home, and discover someone else used all the toilet paper and did not replace it, I can get irritated about irresponsible inconsiderate people with whom I'm living, which only serves to make me unhappy, or I can do what I need to do to take care of my own business, and leave feeling neutral or even happy. That's really letting s#&! go!

Now the fact of the matter is that these really aren't isolated incidents. Everything that happens has something behind it - the spill on the floor, the absent roll of toilet paper - but it's still just an incident. Very often, there is little to nothing I can do about the causes of any incident that occurs in my life. It's not necessarily random stuff happening, but it's not necessarily my stuff either. It's just stuff. What is important is my response to the stuff. And I am learning to apply what I know so that stuff that happens to me and around me doesn't give me cause to feel not good enough, less than, or deserving of shit. I am learning to remove the substance, the story-telling, the so-called evidence, that fuels beliefs that no longer serve me. I am learning to no longer feed these beliefs with a storyline that validates their existence.

I had really come to hate my job, which in turn fueled  abdominal issues. Through doing this practice, I recognize that there are parts of my job that I like, and parts that I really don't like at all. There are parts of my job that I really have no desire to deal with anymore - I am beginning to believe I can use my gifts, talents, and time in another pursuit that will put me in a position to be a more effective human being. Which is a much better way of saying, "F^#$ this place, I'm outta here!" The truth is that in any endeavor, I'll find aspects that I like and aspects that I don't like. In my present job, I am valued, and I am of service, and I am good at a number of tasks that are mine to do; however, after practicing this exercise enough, I recognize that these isolated incidents are not something I want to experience as much of (or at all) in my work life, so I'm currently keeping my eye open for opportunities to utilize my gifts and experience in a more skillful and effective way.

Thank you for reading. The next lesson will be My Best Is Good Enough!

Namasté,

Ken

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  

 

Recovery and Prescribed Medications

I had my consult today with the surgeon who will be repairing my hernia. I broke the first rule for those in substance use recovery in dealing with medical professionals (prescribers): I did not inform the doctor that I am in recovery from substance use disorder. I did let the nurse who later scheduled the surgery know that I didn't want any narcotic (opiate) prescriptions, but only after she mentioned that a prescription would be sent to my pharmacy to be picked up after surgery. It's not that I wasn't cognizant that this could be an issue; my thinking was that "I can take care of this myself; I don't need to let anyone know" (which breaks the 2nd rule of recovery - we don't do it alone). 

There is a protocol to be followed by those in recovery who have to deal with legitimately taking addictive medication:

• Inform your PCP that you are in recovery and do not want to be prescribed mood-altering or addictive medication unless absolutely necessary;
• Inform any other medical prescriber who may be caring for you;
• If your prescriber insists that you have to take medication which is potentially harmful to you, discuss your options with:
• Your prescriber
• Your sponsor, mentor, or recovery coach
• Your significant other or loved ones
  
• Others in recovery who have gone through similar experiences  
• If, after this, you decide that the medication is necessary for your overall well-being and healing, find someone who cares about your well-being to dispense your medication for you. Accountability is key.

By writing here, I am beginning the process of reversing my errors. I will follow the steps listed above. 

However, let me share my thoughts, feelings, and experience with this:

For my healthy recovery, I need to not only avoid addictive and mood-altering substances - I also need to avoid the behaviors associated with substance use, such as being sneaky and dishonest. Not wanting to tell anyone that I have been (or will be) prescribed dangerous-for-me drugs is sneaky, and some part of me gets some form of gratification from that. Not disclosing the whole truth to my medical care providers is dishonest, and I don't get gratification from that, but dishonesty can still be a go-to for me when I get afraid. It's important for me to be honest with myself about the whole picture.

I have never been physically addicted to opoids; I have, however, misused them, even while supposedly in recovery from alcoholism. It has been my experience that if I misuse any potentially mood-altering medication, I will eventually go back to my drug of choice (alcohol). This has been the experience of many others, as well.

One might ask, "Ken, why can't you just take the medication as prescribed, instead of misusing it?" And the answer is, to be honest, that I am not that far advanced to do so. The idea of getting a little taste of something that I used to get high from is not pleasing to me - it's like taking one drink, for which I have no desire. I've never had a desire for one, and only one, drink, oxycodone, brownie, or several other things. When I see a prescription that says, "Take 1 every 4 hours as needed" I see, "Take 4 every hour, and you need it." I would rather live with physical pain which I know to be temporary (and able to be alleviated with other methods) than the inner anguish of craving. When I was recently going through my intensely painful gastrointestinal issues, I was buying all sorts of over-the-counter stomach remedies, and rarely did I follow the usage instructions. (I also found that by over-medicating myself, without a physician's advice, that I was potentially creating more problems for myself than I was solving. I guess I still have stuff to work on!) So I really do not want to hand my prescription over to someone else and have them dole out the correct dosage for me - it would create more discomfort for me than it might alleviate. 

But this is why we discuss it with others, preferably those who have experience - there are some instances where treating the pain of whatever is going on is necessary for the healing process. In my particular case, I don't think I'll need to take anything more than NSAIDS (Ibuprofen, naproxen, meloxicam, etc) and acetominophen (Tylenol). I learned this from a dentist, who has encountered many patients who need to stay away from opiods - that alternating ibuprofen and Tylenol is effective. My surgery is going to be minimally invasive, I have a high physical pain tolerance, and I have the tool of meditation. I believe I can live with the physical pain and discomfort, but I will discuss it with others.

But why not trust solely upon what the doctor is saying? If you're in recovery from substance use disorder, you know the answer. If not, the answer is that most physicians are given about a day's education on substance use disorder and are unaware of the dangers to certain populations of certain medications. In general, pharmacists know more about pharmacology than physicians do, and are good resources to talk to about alternatives and possible drug interactions. 

Next question: "Why don't you simply resolve to avoid that which gives you trouble (wtf is wrong with you)?" Because by choice, genetics, or fate, I have a disorder which has hijacked the parts of my brain dealing with survival and choice. This is irreversible; I will never be able to drink like a gentleman (nor do I have any desire to do so). Additionally, I have created strong neural pathways (habits) in my brain which can't be eradicated overnight. The human brain creates these neural pathways for our survival - neural pathways are so that we don't have to consciously decide whether or not we're in danger each time we encounter a tiger in the woods. Neural pathways are why I still occasionally reach for my keys to unlock the door to my house even though we have a push-button lock, and I've lived here for 6 months. Neural pathways are great, except when we want or need to change something in our lives.

So yes, I am dead certain that alcohol and other mood-altering drugs are not good for my survival; but my subconscious, which isn't nearly as smart as I am, is not really aware of this. In fact, it still thinks they're probably ok. Yes, it's an aberration; yes, it's like lying down with the tiger even after it's eaten one of my hands and feet. So the freeway to hell still exists in my brain even though I haven't used substances for a while. It takes time, experience, and conscious decision making to let that freeway disappear. I have to experience triggers to use, and consciously tell myself a different story each time. This is why there is so much relapse in addiction, and why it is such a dangerous disorder - knowledge of our condition is not enough. We need to actually expect triggers and consciously re-do our thinking when we encounter them. Today was a trigger. I'm implementing manual override.

That which isn't understandable to people who have not experienced it can be understandable to those who have experienced it and approach it without shame, guilt, or embarrassment. It's called learning to live in the solution, rather than the problem. What can I consciously do today to ensure my survival, because I recognize that my subconscious (automatic thinking) probably won't do it for me. With practice, the process becomes an accepted way of living rather than an onerous burden.

I appreciate you reading this and being part of my recovery!

Namasté,

Ken

Life Doesn't Get Any Better

Some years ago, I heard a speaker, who had some time in recovery, state that his life hadn't gotten any better since he quit drinking and began practicing a program of recovery - but that his response to life had improved dramatically. This rang very true to me - I heard it as the Truth, and stored it somewhere up in my cranium (which, to be honest, isn't always the best place to store important stuff). 

I understand the concept, and it's very simple - life is how I perceive it. But, as many have discovered, knowing a Truth and living the Truth are two different things. I've heard it described in Unity as the longest journey I'll ever take - the 18" between my head and my heart.

For so long I tried to escape life while still living, and when I couldn't escape it, I did what I could to try to soften its blows. Years turned into decades of searching for a way to be ok with life and a way to be ok with myself. Nothing I discovered was sustainable. My efforts were met with disappointment, failure, shame, and immense suffering.

I was at a Recovery Dharma meeting tonight. All of our meetings include a brief meditation. Tonight's meditation was Make Your Life Sacred by Sarah Blondin. She gives great meditations, and it is evident that she has experienced her own suffering, and made the journey from her head to her heart. Tonight's meditation spoke of this concept that I heard many years ago - that life really does treat me how I treat it. And I realized that I am much closer (if not there) to responding to life (and myself) in a way that creates happiness and peace - not only for me, but for those whose lives I touch. 

Recovery Dharma is an addiction (substance and process) recovery program based on Buddhism's Four Noble Truths and The Eightfold Path. One of the basic tenets of Recovery Dharma is that my suffering is created simply by my misunderstanding of reality and my unskillful reactions to it. Meditation and mindfulness practice is essential to this recovery journey. Consistent meditation practice actually changes the way the brain works - stress and anxiety are reduced, and happiness, empathy, and compassion are increased. Mindfulness allows me to take a step back from my thinking and observe how it causes my suffering. 

That's all well and good, but that's still all in the head. What about this journey to the heart? Good question!

Last week I celebrated my 60th birthday, and for me it was (still is) the hugest milestone of my life since being born. I had an extraordinary experience a couple of days later - I don't remember exactly what I was doing - puttering around the house - but I got this strong feeling/thought (it came out of nowhere, as thoughts do) that suicide was no longer an option for me. On my pull-down menu of 'Reactions to Life,' self-annihilation had disappeared. It was, and is, a deep conviction that I am completely ready to face the rest of this life experience without the desire to take myself out. Now, to a lot of you reading this, you'll say, "Well, duh!" That's because it hasn't been an option for you. For me, and many others, it has been. It is exactly the same feeling, the same conviction, of those recovering alcoholics who have told me that drinking is no longer an option for them. What was once an option that seemed to be an out if life got too tough is simply no longer there, and that is nothing short of a miracle. (This doesn't mean that I no longer have to work a recovery program, because suicide and substance use are merely symptoms of the real problem, which is suffering - needless suffering from this experience called life). 

Sarah Blondin spoke tonight about the mystery of life - that there are things that we will never understand on a cognitive level, but that we can accept on a heart level. Sam Harris, my meditation mentor, calls it consciousness - the awareness that life exists, and that I am a part of, an object of consciousness. Living this way, one begins to see that life is neither good nor bad, it just is. Well, doesn't that mean you just don't give a shit anymore? Good question! One might think so, but it isn't so. It actually means that I am able to care about life - yours and mine - without wholly identifying with what I my mind thinks is going on. It allows me to use compassion and empathy to sit with another person's suffering and support them without it creating suffering in me. It allows me to feel the pain of life and get to the other side without being crushed. In the end, it allows me to know, both in my head and in my heart, that I can make it - I can survive - whatever I experience. In the end, it allows me to do one thing I have never been able to do before in this lifetime (and which so many of you seem to do with ease), and that is to realize, to know deep down, that Life Is Precious. In other words, Life Is Sacred.

You see, solely in my head, life makes no sense. As some have said, life's a bitch and then you die. My stance used to be, "Let's skip the bitch part and get to the dying part." Now I stand in an ever-growing awareness that life, consciousness, is a precious gift. It is a gift that I can endeavor to give to others on this journey, through connection and sharing. Knowing that life is sacred allows me to look upon the suffering of others not with revulsion, but with compassion and empathy, because I am becoming more aware each day that your life is my life, and my life is yours. I am now much more able to practice lovingkindness toward others rather than contempt, disdain, or even hatred. I am becoming more skillful at treating myself with love and understanding rather than self-deprecation and self-hatred.

There isn't a goal on this journey, other than enlightenment, but if we make enlightenment the goal, we won't reach it and we certainly won't enjoy the journey (yes, one of the mysteries and paradoxes of life). The journey is the goal - to become aware of each moment in this journey, so that we may experience life to the fullest.

You know what I really want to do? Right now anyway - I want to speak to people who suffer and feel downtrodden and shit on by life and let them know that there is hope. Real hope. Not hope in some far off, dreamy way, like winning the lottery some day (although that hope exists, too), but hope right here, right now, in this moment, in this present experience, no matter how things may appear. That's what I want to do. I want to let people know that the pain that is inevitable in living this existence does not have to turn into suffering, and that it can have value. 

I am so incredibly grateful to be here now, more so than I have ever been in this lifetime. I am grateful for all of the teachers and teachings that have led me to the way I am experiencing life in this moment, and I am truly grateful to be alive.

May you be happy, may you be safe, may you be well, and may you be free from suffering.

Namasté,

Ken

60!

 Today is my 60th birthday, the beginning of my 61st trip around the Sun! It truly is a happy day for me, and I've rarely been able to say that. Over the past few weeks I've been pondering what it's like for me to be turning 60, and I can honestly say it's a miracle, and I'm glad and grateful to be here today.

Two years ago, after experiencing yet another bottom and return to hope, I made a commitment to myself to do my best to stay alive for the next two years. My cycles in and out of sanity/recovery are, on average, about two years, so I thought that 2 years was a reasonable time to make a commitment. I almost blew staying alive 10 months ago, and I've since realized that these 'cycles' are actually getting shorter, so I've really got to keep on my toes. In fact, if the past 9 months are any indicator, it looks like I'd better commit daily to doing whatever I can to stay alive.

But it's become, fortunately, so much more than staying alive, or merely surviving. If this is your first time reading my blog, my daily 'struggle', as it were, is doing whatever I can to stay out of life-threatening depression and remaining abstinent from alcohol and other addictive, mood-altering substances. In fact, this incarnation of my blog began 7 years ago with this post Return to Recovery. If you read it, you'll see that my aim is the same: "I still have hope that I can learn to enjoy this lifetime, and to live a life that has purpose and meaning. That seems like a tall order, but, taken in little chunks, and done with guidance, it's probably do-able. We'll see." In some respects, nothing has changed; in others, everything has.

"It's been a long life." This statement was my mantra for a long time. In fact, it seems to me I've packed a few lifetimes into this life, and today, I look at that as a positive - it means that I'm never truly stuck. I've learned that life is constantly changing, and, more importantly, changes more quickly, with less suffering, when I am able to accept 'what is' without clinging.

This past July 10th, I reached a recovery milestone of 9 months without the use of alcohol. If you are close to me, you know that I don't put much stock for myself in time of abstinence - to me, it's sort of like celebrating the fact that I've eaten something every day for the past 9 months, or breathed for the past 9 months. It is vitally important that I do these things - stay sober, eat, and breathe - but it's seems just as important that I aspire each day to live this day to it's fullest. I don't think I was given this life to merely stay out of jail and be a source of carbon dioxide. I hope not, anyway. 

The much more significant recovery milestone that I've reached is today. The miracle is that I woke up this morning, giving me yet another opportunity to fully embrace life. I've spent so much of my life doing just the opposite. I've spent most of my life trying to avoid life, or, more accurately, trying to avoid the pain and discomfort that (I now know) comes automatically with life. In doing so, I've caused myself and others pain, discomfort, and suffering. I was hoping to create some happiness, peace, and joy in my life; what I actually often created was sorrow and discord.

So much has occurred over the last few years, and especially the past 9 months, to convince me that life is not only worth living, that it can be a joyful experience. This is the miracle of my 60th birthday - that today, I am actually enjoying life and looking forward to what comes next! I would have thought that 60 was pretty much the end of life, that it's all downhill from here. Not so for my 60 - I feel vibrantly alive today, and I am filled with joy. These are feelings I was skeptical about feeling, and words I never thought I'd write.

I have deep gratitude for all the experiences and people that have brought me to this day. If you are reading this, you are one of the people that has brought me joy and given me purpose. I hope that your days are filled with much hope, joy, health, and peace. Thank you.

Namasté,

Ken

Releasing Self-Righteousness

 If a person in recovery is fortunate, lives long enough, and searches diligently and deeply for 'causes and conditions', answers begin to come. Answers to the questions, "What is it going to take for me to begin to really enjoy life? What's it going to take for me to stop sabotaging myself, even in recovery? What's it going to take for me to stop hating myself, much less like, or even love, myself?" One such answer came to me this evening. It is probably not THE answer, but it's a big one. I ran across a quote in my Facebook feed from Roland Bal, who treats PTSD and C-PTSD, and whom I follow. It is this: "Self-righteousness is an outcome of uncontained and unresolved anger. Think opposites; when you are made to feel small, you want to feel significant." 

Reading that statement opened a door for me. You see, I engage in a whole lot of self-righteous, judgmental thinking. Now, I very rarely expose myself by actually saying what I think when I'm in that mode - I also have huge people-pleasing tendencies, and I don't think that people-pleasing and self-righteousness mix well together. Additionally, I loathe self-righteous people (which is a bit ironic). But I also still loathe myself a lot of the time, especially lately, when this type of thinking in which I'm engaging bothers me. It bothers me, but I'm not very skillful yet at stopping it or letting it go. I do recognize that I've nothing to be self-righteous about. I am a very far cry from being a pure and perfect human being. But the fact remains, on occasion...well, on many occasions...I think I'm smarter than and better than most folks. And this happens a lot at work, and it happens off and on at home (my current home, living with 10 young men). 

In the Recovery Dharma program, compassion is big. Practicing compassion is emphasized - both compassion with others, and compassion with ourselves. Additionally, as a trained and certified (but not currently working as) Peer Support Specialist, I am supposed to practice compassion and empathy and be non-judgmental. And the weird thing, maybe, is that I do practice compassion, and I am empathetic and non-judgmental. When I sit down with another person and have a real conversation about recovery or life or whatever, I set my intention to be that compassionate person, and I am. And I don't judge those whom I've gotten to know through this process. So, if I have the capacity and the skill for compassion and empathy, why does my mind flip at times to self-righteousness and judgmental-ism? 

The answer is in the above quote: "...when [I am] made to feel small, [I] want to feel significant."

This is obviously an issue of self-esteem and self-worth, and I know I'm not alone. In the book Alcoholics Anonymous, co-founder Bill Wilson writes in his own story, "...Twenty-two, and a veteran of foreign wars, I went home at last. I fancied myself a leader, for had not the men of my battery given me a special token of appreciation? My talent for leadership, I imagined, would place me at the head of vast enterprises which I would manage with the utmost assurance. I took a night law course, and obtained employment as investigator for a surety company. The drive for success was on. I'd prove to the world I was important [emphasis added]." (Alcoholics Anonymous, AA World Services, 4th ed, pp. 1-2) Now I had read Bill's Story numerous times over the years, and I missed the line, "I'd prove to the world I was important." When it finally hit me, it occurred to me that a person with normal self-worth and normal self-esteem doesn't need to prove to anybody that they're important. And Bill felt this way at the beginning of his alcoholic journey, before his mind had been warped and he'd been beaten down by the disease.

I'd heard often in meetings that alcoholics are egomaniacs with inferiority complexes, and it certainly seems to agree with Bill's statement. In the last few years of various treatment modalities, I've learned that alcoholics and addicts take on some of the traits of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. This isn't to say that all alcoholics have this disorder, but that a number of the traits that those with the disorder have are developed during the course of a person's addiction, such as, "I know better than you (or anybody)" and "I can do whatever I want." 

The AA way is to classify this egomania combined with feelings of inferiority as a character defect or shortcoming, and ask God to remove it. That actually never worked for me.

I assert that Bill Wilson's desire to prove he was important developed long before he ever took his first drink of alcohol. Roland Bal's statement suggests that when I am made to feel small, I want to feel significant - the opposite of small. When I am unheard, I desire to be heard. When I am made to feel stupid, or useless, or less-than (not good enough), I desire to feel smart, useful, or better than good enough. I'm not an egomaniac. I think egomaniacs have ambition, something I've never seemed to have a lot of. Or maybe will, or drive. I do remember wanting to show the 'peers' (I use that term really loosely here) with whom I attended high school that I was something, and often got on the path to do just that. But I could never stay on the path. I always, always, always failed. Every single time. Some people become great successes, yet still feel inferior at their core - for no good reason. I had reason. I was inferior.

So, over the years, I retained my better-than-thou attitude because having it made me feel superior, or significant. But, just like the alcohol, and the substances, and the behaviors that made me feel good, my attitude could never sustain how I really felt, what I really believed about myself - that I was less-than, and defective, and really undeserving of anything good. For the longest time, I wasn't even lovable; if somebody did love me, they were either crazy, or I had fooled them into loving me. That love was never sustainable.

But I digress. The fact is that I had developed a habit of thinking, an attitude, in which the world and most of its inhabitants were really quite shitty, and unsuitable for me. So even when I got something nice, like a shiny new car, or a shiny new job, or a shiny new girlfriend, eventually my overall attitude would color the the new thing or person, and it wasn't good enough any more. And I'd leave. Or drink. Or attempt suicide. Or all of the above, it did not matter, I would fuck. it. up.

I had a new job once and a friend asked me how I liked it, and I said, "It's great! I really like everybody there!" And they replied, "Don't worry, that'll pass." Yep.

This evening, after I read that quote, memories came up of a lot of the times growing up that others, usually authority figures, made me feel small. Or, to put it more accurately, I erroneously believed the demeaning words and actions of some people. But, when a five or six-year-old child is told by their 1st grade teacher to stand in a corner and stay there, and "don't turn around because nobody wants to see your face," that child, who is supposed to respect his teachers and believe what they say, might have a tendency to believe that teacher. To this day I have no idea or recollection of what I did wrong. But I knew I was bad. And what happened with me was I began to look at almost everybody as better and/or bigger than me. I was small.

So what happens at work, or at home (living with 10 young men), that triggers this 'small' feeling, to which I respond with thoughts of judgment? I can truthfully say that it's all internal, not external. Nobody has talked down to me, or done anything purposely to make me feel small for a very long time. It's the fear of being judged 'not good enough' that I carry with me. It's the fear of people that I don't know well and that are 'different' from me that I carry. There's the opportunity to be judged at work, because I'm not perfect at my job. There's the opportunity to be judged at home, because even though we're peers in addiction, I'm different because I'm old (and probably old-fashioned). I've got some nice things going now, but I need to be wary because things always change for the worse. That idea right there is the underlying belief, and the key to becoming a professional self-saboteur.

I like signs of progress, and I experienced some progress the other day. A person at work who handles pricing and making price tags (we must have a million) called me up to their office. I had set up some displays the day previous, and did not make any signage for prices or product description. They let me know in no uncertain terms that that can't happen, and that if I need assistance in making the signage, they'd help. Now, the person telling me this did this in a manner that was pretty stern, and very understandable to me. The progress I made was I accepted that I had screwed up, this person was letting me know, very firmly, how to avoid screwing up again. I did not take this personally, like "I'm a bad person." (In fact, come to think of it, if my thinking had gone that way, the better and more accurate version would have been, "I'm a bad worker). I left that encounter examining what I was thinking and feeling, and it was all ok. I screwed up, they let me know. It happens. I like when things like this happen - I can respond in a rational way. I know I can do it!

What can I do about this habitual, downward spiral thinking of mine that causes me suffering? I've already started with the first thing: objective self-examination/reflection. The next is to share this with someone, such as my mentor. 

Then I would probably visit my inner child, the 5 year-old me, or the 11 year-old me, or the 19 year-old me, in meditation and say something like this: "I am sorry you are hurt. You do not deserve to be hurt. When adults speak to you in a demeaning way, a way that makes you feel small, it is not you. It is not your fault - adults have no business talking down to a child, and those that do have their own issues inside that they haven't dealt with. They really know no better, and it is not your fault. You are a worthy person simply because You Are. When your peers make fun of you, and make you feel 'not good enough', know that this, too, is done out of their own ignorance, and their own issues. People who feel good about who they are don't put others down. Please know that you are loved, that you are a valuable and worthwhile person. Please know that your life is valuable. Please know that for every person you meet that puts you down, you will meet 100 others who will lift you up. You are not a burden to anybody, and you are so much more than 'enough'." Something like that. 

Then there is journaling. Actual journaling, not just this blog. And forgiveness - me first. I will forgive myself for believing the lies with which I grew up for so so long into my adulthood. I will forgive myself for the harm I caused myself and others through acting on my erroneous beliefs. And I will forgive those that I believe hurt me. I will begin practicing understanding and compassion when I think of these people. I will send  metta to every one of them.

And I will consciously practice gratitude for every person in my life. I will practice seeing the best in them. In doing so, I will eliminate the cognitive dissonance I experience and the self-loathing I feel from desiring to be a kind, loving, compassionate person while thinking like a self-righteous twit. I will open myself to even greater connection with others and begin to recognize the worth of us all.

So that's the plan. In my last post, I wrote about recognizing and developing personal power. A person who feels small and insignificant does not feel much personal power, if any. The better a person feels about themself, the more personal power they have to direct their lives in a way that is beneficial not only to the person but to those whose lives they touch. That is my desire - to live in such a way that benefits humankind and eases the suffering of others.

And we'll see where that goes.

Namasté,

Ken

Personal Power

I have been practicing more exercise and improved eating habits over the past 2 months. I have lost 20 lbs, and am at a weight that I haven't seen in a healthy way in 25 years or more. Did I just wake up one day and decide I needed to lose 20 lbs? No! I've been wanting to lose weight and trying different strategies the whole time. I am not comfortable being overweight. I was so overweight at one time that I couldn't tie my shoes without getting short of breath. I didn't like the way I looked when I was overweight. Other people couldn't necessarily tell, but I could every time I took a shower.

So imagine taking a shower (almost) every day and looking at myself and saying to myself, "I've got to lose weight. Why can't I lose weight? Today, I won't eat any sugar." And then, sure enough, when I'd arrive at work, it'd be somebody's birthday, and they'd brought in a couple dozen donuts. And there went my resolve. What do you suppose happens to a person's self-esteem, self-worth, and self-trust if they, day after day, resolve to do something good for themselves, and then fail to do it? If I had a friend who promised to do something with me every day, and who continually failed to make good on his promise, I wouldn't have that friend anymore. 

So what happened a couple of months ago? I had gotten a new Primary Care Provider after my previous one passed away (that's a little ominous). I had gone to see her because I've been experiencing some problems in the abdominal area since about December of last year, and that's a long time for me to experience these problems. So she got me signed up for tests and such, and looked at my last labwork, and asked, "How long have you been pre-diabetic?" And I told her about 15 years at least. And she gave me a list of things to give up in order to get my symptoms under control.

Now my new care provider is thorough, intelligent, and a good listener. But I've had a few good medical providers in my life - none of them ever convinced me to do anything. And neither did this one.

I think it's a combination of things that got me committed to my weight loss. The persistent abdominal stuff was concerning to me, because of the very real possibility of certain diseases that I'd rather not have. For instance, my pancreas (which produces insulin) is probably my weakest organ. I've had episodes of hypoglycemia throughout my life, and I know that pouring alcohol on top of a pancreas is not the healthiest thing to do. Also, I'm nearing the completion of my 59th trip around the sun, and I know that as I age, my body does not seem to repair itself as efficiently as it used to. So part of my personal power comes from a growing practicality.

But if practicality were all it took for me to make good life choices, my history would look a lot different! So there's more to it. 

Let's take a look at what I've done to get down to a comfortable weight: The very most important thing that I did was to give up my latest comfort snack. I used to, on a daily basis, eat a large peanut butter and Nutella burrito. I can't describe how good that was. It was wonderful. But it's also loaded with sugar and fats. (By the way, alcohol is a sugar, too - I'm sure that glucose affects me in a similar way that alcohol affects me). I'm pretty sure one of the abdominal attacks I experienced was a gall bladder attack, which can come from eating too much fatty food. Ok, so give up the sugar - that's like an instant 5 pounds right there. But I also committed to becoming more consistent with my exercise. How many times have I been out of breath while bicycling up a hill and cursing my fat ass? But really what I committed to was giving up the comfort that came with the unhealthy way I was eating. 

As you might know, I've been practicing meditation consistently for a little over a year now. There's that word 'consistently' again! The only thing I used to do consistently was give up. When I first started, I know I did it every day for 90 days, and it was possibly 12o days. Either way, that was a miracle - it was the first time in my life that I had done something good, something healthy for myself on a regular basis that nobody else saw or cared about. And I continue that practice today (not always daily, but still regularly and consistently). Well, part of meditation is learning to sit with discomfort, because discomfort doesn't cause problems in my life. What causes suffering for me is my aversion to discomfort. I have learned, over the past year, that anything I feel is temporary - if I accept it for what it is and let it go. This has been very helpful to me.

So I began to look at this whole weight thing as an opportunity to practice sitting with discomfort, because I knew if I let go of my comfort foods (and there are quite a few more than those yummy burritos), I'd be experiencing discomfort. And the really cool thing is that I don't have to dive back into my past to figure out what 'causes' me to overeat, or eat for comfort rather than energy and nutrition. If I'm willing to sit with the discomfort of giving up a comforting habit (but one that ultimately causes suffering), then whatever I need to learn about its origins will come to me. As it turns out, food is just one of the things I've used to deal with anxiety and insecurity. 

The real miracle of this thing, and why this is so important, is that I've been able to move toward healthy eating and away from comfort eating over the past two months while working my job, which arouses my insecurities and anxieties. And I work in a grocery store. I work in the dairy department which, in this instance, is surrounded by the bakery, the liquor department, the ice cream freezers, and the pharmacy. I work right in the most addictive part of the store. 

So, somewhere along the line, my personal real well-being began to take precedence over my immediate feelings. But this whole using substances and behaviors (outside things) to change the way I felt inside is something I've known about since I was a teenager, and a part of me also knew it wasn't the way to go. Deep down, for probably my whole life, or at least since I was an adolescent, I've wanted to learn how to change and live from the inside out rather than the other way around. It's just that I was so afraid of the way I felt - I identified so closely with my feelings - that I was, for the most part, unwilling to let go and see what would happen if I stopped medicating the way I felt. I was afraid that my emotions and feelings would crush me. Alcohol was about the only thing I was willing to give up - until now.

Obviously I've been pondering this thing for a couple of months. How is this so relatively easy? And it's not that I made one decision and stuck with it. Believe me, I make many decisions to choose health and facing my anxiety and insecurities every day, and I'm successful about 90% of the time. Part of it is that I've started to care for myself - I mean, I'm really getting to know and like myself. And as such, I feel less compelled to do things that I know are potentially harmful to me. Part of it is that I am really learning to see things - life - with a clearer perspective. Life is constantly changing - nothing is permanent (except maybe change). So if nothing is permanent, I don't have to cling, to anything. In fact, since nothing is permanent, my clinging or attachment to past events (and everything is a past event) will cause suffering. So I learn to let go, and if someone was an asshole to me yesterday, well, today's a different day and maybe they're different, too. Or maybe I'm more compassionate and forgiving today - who knows? 

The very biggest thing that I've gotten from this experience is that I like myself better today than I did 2 months ago (but at least I liked myself enough to go to the doctor!). The reason I like myself better is that I'm not lying to myself as much - I'm not looking in the mirror and making promises I know I'm not going to keep. 

Success breeds success, so my next venture is to give up nicotine, which I've used for most of 46 years. I've already started. I feel good about this - I been doing this for a couple of days, and I notice I get little cravings - a little more than thoughts, but not like huge, I'm going to die if I don't get some chew (smokeless tobacco) cravings. A little thought, a little craving, is relatively easy to let go of. I get little thoughts about everything all day long, and the difference now is that I don't hang onto them as long (for the most part) and allow them to turn into trains of thought. It's a lot easier to let go of a thought than it is a whole train. Today I don't worry about little cravings because I know they're little more than thoughts, and thoughts contain only as much energy (or power) as I give them. What I don't feed goes away.

I'm developing personal power. Personal power is using volition and agency to better myself, to create a better existence for myself (and, by extension, those around me). 

This is a very new thing for me. I've felt personally weak my entire life. Up to this point, I have failed to accomplish so very much more than I have accomplished. 

Developing, or nurturing and cultivating, my personal power looks like this:

• Accepting and embracing it when I notice it, rather than pushing it away simply because it's something new and entirely different;
• Setting and enforcing boundaries - with myself and with others;
• Recognizing core beliefs, attitudes, fears (safety nets), and habits which no longer serve me and becoming willing to let them go;
• Letting go of attachments, especially to people who are not healthy for me;
• Learning to listen for and heeding the still, small voice within, rather than the noise of society at large;
• Choosing how I show up in the world based upon my own standards and ethics, rather than trying to live up to the imagined expectations of others;
• Cultivating habits that are physically empowering, such as abstaining from addictive substances and behaviors, maintaining or improving my physical strength, and eating in a healthy way;
• Develop self-discipline with things nobody sees - when I get up and when I sleep, meditation, prayer, exercise;
• Practicing each day living from the inside out, meaning living from the fact that I am safe, and I already have everything I need within to enjoy this day and make it the best day ever;
• Practice gratitude - for my recovery, for health, for my friends, for prosperity, for a place to live, for my 5 senses, for nature, etc.

 There's probably more, which we'll discover along the way. This stuff is important for me, and it's important for anybody in recovery - not only from mental health and substance use disorders, but physical diseases, too. Things happen in life that can help to make us feel weak, helpless, powerless.  The Truth is that we aren't.

This morning I once again experienced severe abdominal cramping at work. I had taken stuff for it - an anti-anxiety med, Pepto-Bismol, and was practicing breathing and re-framing my thoughts. The pain seemingly wouldn't leave (I felt helpless) and the thought came to mind that a drink of alcohol would relieve the pain. This was a serious thought, alcohol is readily available to me, and I knew for a fact that it would relieve the pain and cramping - at first. The truth is that alcohol and my stomach (nor any other organ in my body) do not get along, and any pain alleviated would be replaced later by a much greater pain. So I let that idea go, and allowed the other remedies to take effect, which they eventually did. I relate this to illustrate that sometimes stuff happens that is so painful - illness, grief, etc., - that we feel powerless over it and would do anything to alleviate our suffering. The Truth is that we are more powerful than we know, and we do not have to succumb to our weakness to alleviate discomfort, pain, and suffering. 

I think that's all for now. I hope you received something from reading this; I received something from writing it! Also, I am going to begin to write again with more frequency. I've got a boatload of topics, and many started-but-never-finished posts. I don't want to be that way anymore - that doesn't make me feel good about myself. Thank you for reading.

Namasté,

Ken