Discomfort

I did not wake up this morning thinking, "Hey! I'm going to meet someone new today!" In fact, I never wake up thinking that. And it's probably a good thing that I had forgotten that I was presenting this morning with someone whom I'd never met. I remembered when I got to work and looked at the calendar. I didn't even dress right today.

I am one of several Stories of Hope presenters. We talk about our experience with mental illness and recovery with psychiatric patients, Crisis Intervention Training classes, and sometimes the general public. I like telling my story. First of all, it's my story - I can't screw it up. Second, I get such immense gratitude for what I have today when I go into places and share where I've been, where I'm at, and how I got here. But my partner today was someone that I'd yet to meet, and that is scary for me. It's one of those remnants I was talking about a couple of days ago - I know it's not real, that it has no basis in reality, but it's still there and it's still uncomfortable.

So I meet this guy and we begin presenting, and I am amazed - he's a great presenter, a very likable guy, and we have a lot in common. I'm glad I met him, and I think I have a new friend.

I believe that doing things that make me feel uncomfortable is essential to my recovery. If I did only the things that I felt like doing, or were easy for me, I'd eventually end up back in bed all day, and eventually end up drinking and probably dead, or very sick. However, I usually don't look for uncomfortable stuff to do. I don't sit down on a Sunday evening and write out all of the uncomfortable things I plan on encountering in the coming week. The uncomfortable things come to me (most of the time). It's the uncomfortable things that make me grow, make me stronger, give me confidence, help my self-esteem, and give me something about which to write.

And the uncomfortable things give me life. What if God or Life or the Universe wants us to have an adventurous life? For some people I know, leaving their house to go shopping is just such an adventure. So I encounter these uncomfortable situations, and I get benefits that I did not expect. Did I expect to meet someone and make a new friend today? No, it was not on my list. But it happened. 100% of my life today has come from things I didn't expect, which came from things that gave me discomfort.

I used to avoid and escape. That was my MO. I still do, to some extent, but not nearly as much as I used to. Today, on the whole, I know I'm better off when I do something I don't necessarily feel like doing, and I usually do it anyway. (The only problem with that, and it's only a problem when I think about it too much, is by consistently doing the things I don't necessarily want to do, the challenges get greater; however, so do the rewards!).

Here are some of the things a person in recovery can expect to be asked to do which won't be fun at first (or maybe ever):

• Go to support groups
• Share at support groups
• Take direction from a mentor
• Talk about past trauma
• Talk about fear
• Talk about embarrassing events 
• Be of service
• Admit one's faults
• Find a Higher Power
• Learn to pray
• Learn to apologize
• Learn to face the past
• Learn to admit mistakes
• Learn to guide others along the path to recovery
• Learn to meditate

And that's the short list. But we don't come into recovery because life is going great, and we're looking for something to do. Most of us get here because it just doesn't work anymore. So we must try to do things we've never done before, and they're scary. But it's ok, because we're not alone - we have support. And then it's ok, because we begin to understand that facing the scary stuff is what keeps us in recovery.

And, if we keep going, we begin to understand a lot more of what these challenges are really about - we begin to grow out of our old selves into a new creation that's bigger and better than we could have ever imagined. And we begin to understand that that's who we really were all along, and facing the uncomfortable stuff in our life is just the process of letting go of what really isn't us and embracing who we really are and the life that we can lead.

Namaste,

Ken

$omething to Con$ider

If one were to describe my condition before recovery without using medical terminology, one could call it, "intense dissatisfaction and unhappiness with life and living." Through the years, I have tried so many things to make myself happy. I found things that give me pleasure (good feelings in the moment), but the pleasure wasn't lasting, and each time I tried, I needed more. One of my long-held beliefs of which I needed to let go before I could find any satisfaction with life is the belief that having money brings happiness, or one needs money in order to be happy. Happily, I discovered this is not true for me. 

I've watched movies, like 'Ocean's 11', that have to do with acquiring large amounts of cash. When I'd watch these movies and the scene would show a huge pile of cash, my stomach jumped - it was an actual physical craving, just like someone who is addicted to cocaine might get when seeing the scene with the huge mountain of cocaine in 'Scarface'. There have been times, lots of them, in my life when I've felt down and depressed, and receiving money instantly changed my mood, like a drink would. Money was one of my masters.

When I began the practice of living within my means, my attitude toward money changed, and I was able to release the belief that I needed money to enjoy life. Here is how that happened:

• My priorities were paying my rent and paying back money I owed to individuals. I wasn't making a lot of money, I rode my bike or the bus to work, and I was able to get food without buying it or stealing it.
• There were often things I wanted, or thought I needed, but I stuck to my priorities. This taught me a couple of important things:  When I postpone buying things, very often the urge to buy disappears, and I can get along very well on a lot less than I thought I could.
• By opening my mind to the possibility that life could be lived without a ton of money, I began to see all the ways in which the Universe supports me - no cash involved. This is very important: When my mindset is 'I can't have enough because I don't have enough money,' I don't have enough. When my mindset is 'Let's see how the Universe provides,' I begin to have enough.

The same thing happens in addiction: as we get further and further into our addiction, our field of vision narrows, and solutions to our problems begin to disappear, until the only solution to what's going on in our life is our substance. When we begin recovery, our field of vision begins to open up again, and we begin to find solutions to life's challenges in all sorts of things. Substitute money for addiction or substance, and it's the same thing.

So, financially, if I'm looking to money to solve my problems, I'm missing alternative solutions.

Money is great. It can do a whole lot of good. But when I look to money as THE answer, I'm in trouble. I think growing up in this society has taught me ideas that I needed to unlearn - things like, 'If I accumulate money, I'll be successful.' When I take an honest look around, I see this isn't so. I used to work for a company that kept promoting itself to its employees as a great place to work, based solely on the fact they made a lot of money. The truth is, it was a crappy place to work. That was the job that propelled me into self-employment. 

I have found it true that money doesn't buy prolonged happiness - like alcohol, I'll always need more. I'm releasing the programs (beliefs) that I've been given, and learning to look inside myself to find my purpose and my happiness. As a result, I've been able to donate a relative lot of money to organizations doing service work. I've been able to live on a portion of what I make, rather than having to always look for more. Money matters no longer make me fearful, because today I recognize money as one of the tools I use to live a rich life. It is no longer my master.

Namaste,

Ken  

Remnants, Symptoms, & Actions

Years ago, during my first treatment for alcoholism, I completed the MMPI - the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. It is an exhaustive questionnaire designed to determine what mental health issues a person may have. From the results, I was diagnosed with Schizoid Personality Disorder. As I look back on that, I wonder why nothing was ever recommended for that. I didn't do any counseling or anything to address that. Anyway, some of the symptoms are social isolation, a lack of close friends, a limited range of emotions, and an avoidance of relationships. There's more, but that about covers it, except that one of the symptoms is also lack of knowledge that there's anything wrong. 

I am fortunate today that I no longer suffer from alcoholism, major depressive disorder, or schizoid personality disorder. I still have them, but in recovery I don't suffer from them, and this is the distinction. The symptoms of my disorders no longer rule my life.

I did not actively attempt to recover from SPD (schizoid personality disorder). I believe that my attempts at recovery from alcoholism overrode the main symptoms of SPD, as much of recovery from alcoholism involves doing things that are opposite the symptoms of SPD. Much of alcoholism/addiction recovery, and I believe recovery from mental health disorders, revolves around taking actions that we don't necessarily feel like doing.

And this is one of the ways I know I'm in recovery - not necessarily by how I feel, but what I am doing. Am I doing something today that makes me feel uncomfortable? Good! If I do only the things with which I feel comfortable, I won't stay in recovery. 

My mornings have gotten a lot better, but every day when I wake up, I still would feel more comfortable staying in bed than getting up and facing the day. That is a remnant of major depressive disorder. It becomes a symptom again if I actually stay in bed and miss work or something else I have planned for the day. 

I don't much care for social events, and I feel  that I could live without them. This is a remnant of SPD, and possibly alcoholism. It becomes a symptom again if I avoid social events which would be good for me. 

I get uncomfortable when I feel myself getting close to someone. This is a remnant of SPD. It becomes a symptom when I actively avoid opportunities presented to me to develop friendships.

The list goes on and on, but I define my recovery more on what I'm doing than by what I'm feeling. In this way, my focus is on healthy things, not on symptoms. One of the laws of the Universe is that that which I focus on increases. So, for instance, if I focus on the feeling I have every morning that I'd rather stay in bed, I'm going to have a lot more difficulty actually getting up. If I change my focus in the morning to the benefits of getting out of bed, like keeping my job and getting paid and eating and having a home, then that's what happens, and the desire to stay in bed dissipates. I can recall days past in which all day long my desire was to go back to bed. I no longer have that. 

I don't mind the remnants anymore. I've come to accept that I may still feel these unhealthy things - the blessing is that today, I know I can take healthy actions that are different than what I'm feeling. In this way, my unhealthy feelings no longer determine how I show up today.

By the way, if the day ever comes where I am 100% happy with me and my life, and I never feel anything negative or think about unhealthy things, please be assured that I will let you know!

Namaste,

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

What I Get When I Open My Mind

I used to not believe what I could not understand. This is kind of the way humans are, I think. But I took it one step further - because my thinking was so right, if I couldn't understand it, it wasn't understandable. I did not seek to understand; I didn't even seek to accept.

For instance, if anybody ever saw any good in me, either they were lying or I had them fooled. This kind of attitude makes for very short relationships, and by relationships, I mean all kinds - friendships, romantic relationships, jobs, etc. If you thought I was a decent person, you were either lying or delusional, because deep down, I knew I wasn't a decent person. I wasn't the kind of person that had anything that was likable or any sort of skill that was useful to anyone. 

This belief in my innate badness is very much a shame-based belief. It was so strong that it persisted despite much evidence to the contrary. Most people (I think) think they are pretty good people who occasionally make mistakes or do bad things. My perception of me was that I was basically a bad person who occasionally did good things. 

In my opinion, it is impossible to stay in recovery and keep this attitude. Or, it is impossible to keep this belief and stay in recovery. It is also impossible, in my experience, to keep this shame based attitude and have a healthy relationship with God. 

I will not say that I presently have the best attitude or belief about myself that I could have, but it's better than it used to be. I'm finally beginning to see that there are steps in between the alpha of desperately sick and the omega of perfectly healthy, much like there are steps to acceptance. 

I saw a bumper sticker a few years back that said, "Don't believe everything you think." Good advice! As I've mentioned in previous posts, the human brain is set up to jump to conclusions. It takes effort (plus a little insight) for most folks to move past their first thought. But lazy thinking isn't my only problem. It is the tip of the iceberg. My problem is the thoughts and perceptions generated from a lifetime of thinking that I'm a piece of breathing, walking shit. The change in my thinking must come from my depths - surface change isn't lasting change.

So here's how this whole scenario used to show up for me: I would get some opportunity that would give me hope that I had some kind of chance at having an enjoyable life. Because I had this great opportunity and some hope, I could avoid doing the things that were majorly self-destructive, like drinking. But the change was only on the surface. Because I knew so much, or maybe because I was too afraid to let anybody in on who I thought I really was, I did not go after the deeper stuff - the beliefs. When I was young, I didn't even know that I had no self-esteem, or shame-based beliefs, or any of that shit. The way I felt about myself was as natural as my hair color or my eye color. It was me. 

When I began to recognize that maybe, perhaps I don't process life like everybody else, I did not seek to understand what was different - I simply tried to suppress that difference. Because I'm smarter than everybody else, you see.

So I would cycle. About every two years (sometimes longer, if I had a prison sentence - that seemed to help in a strange way) I would crash. I would start drinking again, quit my job, abandon my domicile, quit my marriage or my relationship, and jump head-first into self-destruction. Until somebody stopped me and gave me some hope. It got to the point where I hated getting hopeful again, because I knew I was in for another disappointment down the road.  This used to be my life. Crash and burn, get some hope, do well for a couple of years, crash and burn.

What's different? A little over four years ago, after a crash and burn, I resolved to become authentic. I knew I was a big fake, and I knew I couldn't recover unless I became authentic. So I started down that path. Started. I was in a relatively safe place to be me, whoever the heck that was. But after I left that place, I reverted to Mr. Sobriety and went about making my millions, rather than allowing more healing to take place. So, after nearly two years, I crashed and burned again - the last crash and burn.

I still needed to practice authenticity, but I also needed to keep recovery first. And that I have been doing. But what was the change? I think I've mentioned it before, in different ways - I've basically run out of f^&#$ to give. I no longer care about if someone finds out who I really am. I no longer care if I make a million or if I don't. I don't even really give a good goddamn if anybody likes me or not. And when I dropped those prereqs to recovery, lo and behold, I began to get better. Bit by bit, I began to heal.

So what happened to the belief that I'm basically a pile of shit who occasionally manages not to stink? In addition to letting go of what I thought others might think of me, I began to let go of what I thought of myself. I began to put less stock in my own thinking. I began to see if maybe others weren't right when they said I was a decent human being with a something to offer. And the results of this inquiry - perhaps call it "Maybe Ken doesn't know everything" - have led to some amazing discoveries. 

The biggest discovery is I'm not the person I believe I am. I sure don't know who I am, but I'm not the waste of oxygen I once thought I was. Being relieved of that underlying belief has made sobriety a lot easier, and it has made recovery from depression possible.

I saw myself on videotape last night. Twice in the past couple of weeks I've had occasion to speak at some meetings at city hall. I was fishing around the city website, and came across recordings of those meetings. I was surprised at what I saw when I was on tape. Here was a gentleman who wasn't ugly - looked pretty normal to me - and said what he had to say in a nice and interesting manner. I knew that was me, but part of me didn't recognize me. I'm used to public speaking, and I like doing it, probably because I'm often talking about myself, and I seem to be received well. During these two meetings I did not know I was being videotaped, so it wasn't like I was doing anything for the camera - I was just doing what I do. It's like writing for me - it just comes out. Yet I thought it was funny that I really didn't recognize myself. And I'm grateful, because it shows me that my perception is still not on target. I need to know that, because every once in a while I dip back into shitville.

I'll mention one other amazing thing before I close - and this is very important: Because other people took the time to acknowledge and support the good they saw in me, I can now see the good in others who perhaps find it difficult to see themselves. This is one of the greatest gifts I've ever, ever received - to not only see myself differently, but to see others in a different light as well (Cyndi Lauper's 'True Colors' is bouncing through my head now). 

I've heard this for the past 25 years - my perception creates my reality, not the other way around. And I'm just beginning to manifest this truth. When I toss away my first thought about anything and allow something better to take its place, I start to get better and my world gets better.

Namaste,

Ken

Don't Look!

As I was driving home tonight, I twice looked in my rearview mirror after safely passing through an intersection to see a car behind me go through the intersection after the light had turned red. This is one of my pet peeves, and it's a symptom of alcoholism. Or at least of alcoholic thinking, because the only thing that feeding my pet peeves does is create righteous indignation (which is irritation about other's behaviors in order to make me look good to myself or others). And righteous indignation is one of the things that can lead a sober alcoholic or a clean addict back to using and drinking.

How can a minor irritation lead me back to drinking? Well, first of all, I was looking for it - indicating that the alcoholic within is still alive. I didn't happen to just notice it - I deliberately looked in my rearview mirror (which is always set to nighttime to make it harder to see behind me, day or night, because I've had the tendency thru life to look behind rather than ahead). Second, it can set up a mood - "my God, how unthinking must a person be? Why am I surrounded by idiots?" And so I start looking for more cases of inconsiderate idiots. And, as Jesus warned me, what I look for is what I'll get (Seek, and you will find - Matt. 7:7-8). So, 15 minutes after discovering the first two inconsiderate idiots (who are now safely at home enjoying their supper), I'm seething because I'm surrounded by inconsiderate idiots - I, the intelligent, rational, Ken, am once again alone in a world full of people that I can't relate to. And that mental/emotional isolation is the trigger for the next drink or fix. It really does not take much.

But sanity intervened tonight, as it has for the past couple of years. I asked myself, if pushing the envelope on yellow traffic lights is something that I need to be upset about, how upset do I need to be? Well, there are many large cities all over the world that employ the use of traffic lights, and hundreds of millions of people driving, and even if only a small percentage of people blast through red lights, a small percentage of hundreds of millions of people is still a pretty big number. So I can assume that at any given moment, some inconsiderate idiot is blasting through an intersection on red, making innocent people suffer. It's an incredibly huge problem! And one that I don't need to be concerned about. 

PETA once sent me a letter of warning because they found out I was killing off most of my pet peeves by starving them to death. I recognized a while back how dangerous it is for me to feed my pet peeves - they'll eventually turn on me. Today I avoid undue irritation. I am grateful that some things that used to really. piss. me. off. no longer do. Not my circus, not my monkeys, so to speak. So allowing the larger pet peeves to die a slow death has left room for other stuff that I might find irritating, but isn't necessarily a pet peeve. Now, because I'm not in a continual state of pissed-offedness, I recognize when something or someone pushes one of my buttons. And because I can recognize one incident or one word that gets my goat, I can ask myself, "How important is it to me?" or "What am I supposed to learn from this?" or "What am I supposed to do with this?" It's not a matter of ignoring things that piss me off - that would only create a pressure cooker inside of me. It is a matter of me knowing that I have the power of choice today; today, I get to choose my battles. I no longer reside in a place where the majority of things and people around me irritate me.

Does this mean that nothing I see in the world should bother me? Certainly not! What I see outside of me is merely a reflection of what is within me, and if I see something that disturbs me, then I need to do something about it. But I need not attack - either what I see or myself. What I can do is seek to understand, and then ask the Universe (God) what I need to do about it. Last week I was to a planning commission meeting to advocate for something I feel strongly about, and last night I was at a city council meeting to advocate against something I feel strongly about. I've never been to meetings like this in my life before (except maybe in a middle school civics class). In both cases, I got up and said my piece. What comes of it will be what comes of it - but I did my part (so far) in changing something about the world in which I live. I think most of the time, however, the things I need to change are my own skewed perceptions.

Continued peace of mind, serenity, and happiness, which I believe are essential ingredients in my recovery, require cultivation. I cultivate a peaceful state of mind by understanding that it's actually easier, once I get the hang of it, to change my consciousness than it is to change my environment. And once my consciousness is mostly clear of problems that aren't mine to do anything about, I can focus my attention on what is mine to do. And that leads to an even more peaceful life for me, which in turn leads to actually feeling like I'm useful and I belong.

Isolation, fear, and loneliness are the cause of what ails me. The cure is connection, courage, and engagement - in whatever form that takes.

Namaste,

Ken

The Benefit or The Goal?

Just musing today...

I've been feeling more joyful lately - just spontaneously feeling good for no reason at all. Of course, no good thing goes un-analyzed. I believe these moments are the result of a consistent effort over time to practice the strategies and principles of recovery.

My mind works in a strange way (big shock there, right?). I remember the last class I took at the second-to-last university I attended. The grade was completely dependent upon 4 papers we wrote during the semester. The professor loved my writing, loved what I had to say - I was doing perfectly. So, by the time I got done with the 3rd paper, and, big surprise, received an A, I'm wondering why I would want to do the final paper. Isn't it obvious that I'm going to get an A? I knew that that wasn't the correct way to think about it, and I did the 4th and final paper and got an A, of course. But I had lost most of my motivation, knowing that the grade was pretty much in the bag.

Looking back at the past couple of years, I can't really say what my motivation has been. I don't know why I decided to give recovery another shot. Maybe it's that unseen life force within me that I fail to recognize. But I'm not all like, "Ooh, I'm going to get my life back," or, "I'm going to make a million bucks." I don't have lofty goals. I don't even have any retirement goals, other than I would like to travel. I don't have any longevity goals - I think longevity in and of itself is overrated. Living to the end of this day would be good.

Maybe I'm like the athlete who wants to optimize her physical performance - I want to see what I can do with what I've got, not only physically but mentally and spiritually. That makes sense to me. There's always room for improvement. When I was in that class, there was no room for improvement - that was as good as it was gonna get.

So the joy I've felt is not my goal. It cannot be my goal; if it were, then I've made it and I can quit now. Been there done that. Joy, however, can be used as a tool, because operating out of a place of joy is supposed to be very powerful. I haven't hit that place enough times to really say yet.

I think probably what has me a little confused, or at least thinking about this, is that the whole "set goals and achieve them" is really a western society ideal, and I no longer subscribe to that. Maybe I never really did. Yes, I have daily goals and things I'd like to accomplish, but I no longer feel the need to 'make something of myself.' It's very freeing, actually. No regrets.

I recognize benefits from recovery every day - everything from not being sick and not being in jail to connecting with other human beings and every once in a while catching a glimpse of my divinity or of yours. When I really think about it, it feels good that I want to keep going just for the sake of keeping going.

Namaste,

Ken