Ground Zero (or, You Can't Get There From Here)

I might have written about this before, but it is so important to my recovery that it bears mentioning again. And again. And again.

For the vast majority of my life, I aspired to be what I thought other people expected me to be. I tried to live up to your expectations, even if you never told me expressly what your expectations were. But inside, and not very deep down, I knew that I could not cut it. I did not have what it takes to live life - yours, mine, or anybody else's. So, I learned a lot of workarounds - I maneuvered and manipulated so that it would appear that I was making it - that I was a competent human being that knew what he was doing and could handle most anything. I thought that's what you wanted me to be - I really did.

All this acting did not make me a successful human being. All it really did was to create a deep chasm within me - a huge separation between me and everyone else...between me and life...between me and the real me.

About 3 years ago I began the process of learning (or possibly remembering) how to live from my true self. It's not an overnight process, and it's not easy - for me it requires a constant examination of my thinking, my motives, and my actions, and a re-training of my brain.

Nearly a year ago, I surrendered any idea that I knew what I was doing, or that I knew what was best for me. I don't recall a bright light going off in my head, or Lake Michigan parting, or any burning bushes. Something within me simply stopped playing the game.

So, I started recovery exactly where I was at - sick from active alcoholism and untreated depression, homeless, jobless, penniless, carless, and with not very much of an idea of what to do about it all. And I was tired - so very, very tired.

There is a paradox here that bears mentioning - being 'around' recovery for many years, I knew what recovery looked like, and I knew what the solution was - but I didn't know it for myself. For example, if someone comes to me desiring recovery, I can point them in the right direction and get them started; however, I cannot orchestrate or direct my own recovery. I suppose it's because I'm the broken one, and I can't fix what's broken (me) with what broke me in the first place (me). I must ask for and accept guidance from those around me.

About a year ago, I began earnestly following the suggestions of those who were suggesting things to me. I stopped using alcohol. I began going to recovery meetings again. I started living at the Salvation Army. I engaged in Intensive Outpatient Treatment for alcoholism. I acquired a doctor, who made some suggestions. I began going to NAMI support groups to begin recovery from depression. After two months of sobriety, when I found myself still wishing I were dead and not having much hope, I agreed to start taking medication for depression. I got a crappy part-time job at the local retailer of donated goods. I accepted the invitation to spend a month (which turned into 6 weeks) at the halfway house from which I had graduated nearly two years before. I finished my IOP treatment and I moved into a rooming house (where I still reside and share the bathroom with others). I followed the suggestion of a friend and applied for a full-time job where he works, and I still work there today. I became self-supporting, meaning I pay my own rent, I buy my own food and other necessities, I pay off some of my debt each paycheck, and I keep current with my expenses (I don't borrow money or neglect bills anymore). I still walk, ride my bike, or ride the bus - right now, I can't afford a car. I've become more deeply involved in NAMI. I'm in therapy and I'm avoiding romantic relationships.

That's some of the stuff I'm doing, and what makes it important for me is that I'm not living outside of my current capabilities. I'm taking a realistic look at what I can do today and learning and growing from there, instead of trying to live from a place of what I (or others) think I should be doing. I'm learning to be me, where I'm at today and what I'm about today, and I'm learning to be OK with it.

The real kicker is this - I spent all those years - 50+ - working at projecting a false image of myself in the hope of gaining approval and happiness, and I found neither. As I mentioned before, now I endeavor to find out who I am and live from that, no matter what I think others think of that (I've found out that most people don't give a shit anyway). The result is that I like myself better and I experience more happiness and peace of mind being me than I've ever experienced before, and sometimes it's even fun exploring who I am. And it's really only just begun. I might not be too much to write home about, but I'm real, and today I can live with that (and myself).

Namasté

Ken

5 Year Plan?

I took a survey at work yesterday. Management is trying to find out what our 'carrots' are - what motivates us. One of the questions was, 'What would you like to be doing in 5 years?'

I've always hated the 5-year question. The last time I encountered it was several years ago when I was filling out a job application for [national pet supply chain]. I was applying for a stocking position. My reply was, 'Really? I'm not sure, but it's probably not schlepping dog food for [national pet supply chain].' And, of course, that's not what I'm doing today.

On the survey for work, I thought about it and answered, 'Breathing.' I'm way past trying to figure out what the best answer is and plugging it in. Being alive and breathing seems to be a pretty good place for me to be in 5 years, considering my last 5 (and 10, 15, 20, 30, and 40).  I suppose that points to my lack of ambition, and sometimes I feel bad that I don't have a 5 year plan. But I realize I only feel bad about that because it makes me look like I don't have any ambition, when in truth, I do.

I'm in recovery. I am recovering from mental illness and from alcoholism. That's why even being alive in 5 years is a pretty big aspiration for me. I'm not really sure that that's where I'll be. But my ambition today is to stay sober today and to stay as symptom free today as I possibly can. My ambition today is to make today the best possible day that I can. I do that today by waking up, getting up, suiting up, and showing up. And I know today that the attitude with which I show up is more important that where I show up or what I do when I do show up. I know that if I get up, suit up, and show up, I'm going to run into people today, and, to me, how I interact with the people I run into is much more important than anything else that can happen today.

I used to live each day thinking - believing - that what I did didn't matter. I used to live thinking - believing - that I had no impact, positive or negative, on the lives of others. I just didn't matter that much. So I took actions that made me feel ok in the short term, without concern for how my actions affected those around me. It just didn't matter.

Today I know I was wrong. I'm not any more important than I ever was, but I do know I'm more important than I think I am. I am connected; I am a part of, not apart from. How I treat myself and how I treat others and what I bring to life today is of utmost importance. Each day I encounter opportunities to share my gifts, and, most importantly, my divinity, with those around me, and I do that by practicing principles such as love, honesty, open-mindedness, willingness, acceptance, humility, compassion, tolerance, faith, hope, gratitude, and courage (there's more, but I can't think of them all now). I also work at discovering what my true gifts are, and I work at sharing them with those around me. I don't do any of this perfectly, and I don't do any of it alone. The reward for all of this practice is that the more I give away, the more I have to give. The more I practice embracing life, the more I enjoy life, and the less afraid I am.

Last year at this time, I was headed for (if I wasn't already there) my last relapse. My aspirations were gone, along with my hope and my desire to live. Last year I was done.

On May 21st of 2015, I began recovery again, and I began using every resource I had, and I began to be open-minded and accepting. I like where I'm at today, spiritually, mentally, emotionally, physically. There's lots of room for improvement in every area, but I like where I'm at. And what I'm often reminded of is that I did not plan to be where I'm at today last year. I just sort of arrived, a day at a time, a step at a time.

I would like to be breathing in 5 years. I would also like to be a lot less afraid to share my gifts with those around me. I'd like to have more courage, and be of more useful service to others than I am today. I'd really like to have my own bathroom. That's my only material goal - to live in a bit of a better place than I do now. Other than that, in 5 years I want to look back and be amazed. I want to look at the person I was 5 years ago and see only a vague resemblance to the person I am. I want to know deeper in my heart that I do belong, that I am an important part of life. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and truly love and appreciate the man looking back at me.

I do know that all of that is possible, if I make today the best possible day I know how to.

Namaste,

Ken

Little Miracles

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

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

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

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

Namasté,
Ken

Self-Esteem

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namasté,
Ken

Effort vs. Struggle

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namasté,

Ken

The Purpose of this Blog

When I started this blog, I think I wrote about what my intention was, but since I've deleted this blog twice, what I wrote about that is gone. The purpose of this blog is really two-fold: it is a vehicle for me to do one of the things I love to do (write), and it is a journal of discovery - I am in the process of discovering how to integrate my spirituality with my humanity in order to live a purposeful, inspired life. I suppose that sounds a bit lofty, but I've been told that if I can dream it, I can achieve it.
I've had difficulty my entire life with being me. At various points in my life, I learned work-arounds to remedy that difficulty. I learned how to people please, which seemed to make life easier. I discovered that alcohol and drugs worked for a while to cover the crappy way I felt about myself and life. I discovered perfectionism and approval seeking in order to avoid taking an honest look at who I am and what I'm about. All of that stuff would have been great if it had worked in the long term, but it didn't. I came to the place (some call it the 'jumping off place') where I could no longer live with myself at all, and I had a choice - change or die. And really, the change isn't about changing Me - it's about changing and removing the things I've become - the things that cover up the real Me. There is inside some perfect idea of Ken that my Creator imagined, and that is what I am endeavoring to move toward. To do that, I have to believe and accept that a worthwhile Me exists. Many years ago I heard a priest share how in taking a fearless and honest look within in an effort to find himself, he had found himself and he had found God. His message has never left me (and, trust me, over the years a lot of stuff has left me).
So that's what it's about for me - this Divine Human experience - my challenges and experiences on the journey of acceptance of my humanity and my spirituality. It's an exploration, and a lot of it has to do with recovery from addiction and depression, and a lot of it will have to do with learning how to discover and express who I am inside.
Namasté,
Ken

 

 

Namasté

I end my posts with the word namasté, and it occurred to me today that I might want to explain it a bit. Namasté is a Sanskrit word and it is used as a greeting. It's a little word that can carry a lot of meaning. Roughly translated, it means the Divine in me recognizes the Divine in you.
It really can be more than a greeting between people on the spiritual path. It is a recognition of the connection every living being has with the Creator, and, moreover, it is a recognition of my connection with you.
Part of the human experience is recognizing our differences. On a very human level, we're all very different. We're different genders, colors, sizes, and shapes. We have different languages, belief systems, and customs. We eat different foods and enjoy and dislike different things. When looked at at a strictly human level, life can be a pretty lonely place.
When looked at through the spiritual lens, it becomes a bit of a paradox. We can see that no two individuals are exactly alike, yet we all come from the same idea in the Divine Mind. We are all expressions of Spirit, each of us expressing Spirit in our own unique way.
Namasté allows me to see our differences with an understanding that it is all good - it is a level of acceptance that says our Creator made each of us, and if you are ok by God, then I'll let you be ok by me, too. Namasté allows me to drop the judgment, to recognize your unique attributes as gifts, not defects. It allows me to explore your experience with a sense of wonder rather than a sense of fear. And by the same token, it allows me to be who I am in that moment, too.
We are all God's children on a path leading back to God. When I recognize this, life becomes richer - I find myself surrounded by the infinite number of ways in which our Creator shows up.
Today I can use namasté not only in my writing and greeting of like-minded people, but also in silently greeting everyone I meet, either physically or in my consciousness. This practice helps me grow in understanding that, no matter what appearances are, we are all led by the same loving Creator and all of our experiences and gifts are valuable.
Namasté,
Ken