Warriors

Memorial Day 2010

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

On this Memorial Day 2010, I light a candle in loving gratitude to the memory of my father. He served in Europe and the Pacific Theatre in the Army Air Corps during World War II. He oversaw weather planning for operations in Japan with Generals James Doolittle and Curtis LeMay. He earned the Distinguished Flying Cross, and went on to lead a distinguished career as an Air Force officer. He died in 1962.

I light a candle in loving gratitude to the memory of my uncle who served as a Merchant Marine and was killed aboard his vessel during World War II. I light a candle in loving gratitude to the memory of my uncle, who earned the Distinguished Flying Cross flying a P-38 over Germany in World War II. I light a candle in loving gratitude to the memory of my uncle who served in the US Army in Germany in World War II and later as a flight instructor in the Air Force. He went on to race P-51 Mustangs and was a daredevil in the truest sense of the word. He died peacefully at home in 1985.

I light a candle in loving gratitude to the memory of my father-in-law, who piloted B-17’s in the Pacific and European theatres during World War II and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Air Medal, the British Distinguished Flying Cross and the French Croix de Guerre. He went on to great accomplishments as a career officer in the Air Force, including commanding a B-52 bomber wing of USAF Strategic Air Command.

I light a candle in loving gratitude to my uncle who served in combat in the US Navy during World War II. He is enjoying a peaceful life with his family today. I light a candle in loving gratitude to my brother, who piloted an F4 Phantom during the Vietnam war. He earned the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Purple Heart. He is enjoying a peaceful life with his family today. I light a candle in loving gratitude to my uncle, who served in the US Air Force during the Korean war. He is enjoying a peaceful life with his family today. I light a candle in loving gratitude to my cousin, who served in the US Coast Guard in the 1970’s. He is enjoying a peaceful life with his family today. I light a candle in loving gratitude to another cousin who served in the US Navy in Cuba and elsewhere in the 1970’s and lost valiant comrades at sea. He is enjoying a peaceful life with his family today.

I light candles in loving gratitude to each of these men: my father, my uncles, my father-in-law, my brother, my cousins. I light a candle in loving gratitude to the patriot Nathan Hale, my ancestor, and to the countless other members of my family who have fought to create and protect this country for almost 400 years. I light these candles to acknowledge all my fellow countrymen who have known dedication and sacrifice beyond my understanding.

I also light a candle in loving memory of my other brother, who chose a different path and instead fought in the streets of our country—with courage befitting a warrior—to help end what he believed were illegal and immoral wars in Southeast Asia. He died in 2008.

I light these candles to acknowledge these gifts I have received: I have lived a life without having to wield a weapon of war, or to have one held against me. I live my life today free from the horror, fear and madness that characterizes all wars.

So, just for today, I honor these brave and unselfish men by choosing to face my life in the fullest way I know: resolved to being mindful and present, accepting of what is, acknowledging my fears with courage, wisdom and serenity, dedicating this day in service to others, and filled with gratitude for the countless gifts I have received from those who came before me.

Happy trails!

“The basic difference between an ordinary man and a warrior is that a warrior takes everything as a challenge, while an ordinary man takes everything as a blessing or as a curse.” — from The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge by Carlos Casteneda

Self-Help Library

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

As I happily trudge this road, travelers sometimes ask me, “What most inspires you spiritually, besides yourself?” I trace the roots of my spiritual enlightenment to something I found in a Cracker Jacks box, but sadly I can no longer recall what it was.

In the meantime, striving to provide deep and meaningful spiritual inspiration and wisdom to others—or, more likely, the occasional distraction and amusement—this is a burden I grudgingly bear. I felt it was time to share my secret: contrary to some misguided teachings, any of us can become a beacon of spirituality, serenity and wisdom—simply by reading Self-Help* books!

The answers are all there. No uncomfortable “soul-searching,” or embarrassing “confessionals.”  No annoying reminders to surrender what little precious control we have to some amorphous “Higher Power.”

Instead, we can go home, rip out the mailbox, lock the door, pull down the shades, unplug the phone, turn out the lights, grab a flashlight, crawl under the bed covers and read our way to serenity and enlightenment (while we wonder why no one ever calls or writes).

It really works! Provided, of course, we have the right books.

With the growing demand for Self-Help* books, I felt it was only fair to share these titles (soon to be available on the Apple iPad® and Amazon Kindle®) which have given me so much inspiration. They promise to help each of us become the most serene, peaceful and all-knowing person we have ever had the pleasure to know—or at least to give the authors some financial peace of mind. In the meantime, may they help guide you on your journey!

Happy trails!

* PS Two famous quotes on self-help:

“There is “no such thing” as self-help. Anyone looking for help from someone else doesn’t technically get “self” help, and one who accomplishes something without help, didn’t need help to begin with.” — George Carlin

“I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, “Where’s the self-help section?” She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.” — Steven Wright

Control This

Control Chart

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

I’m a list-making type of guy. My to-do list covers things that involve family, health, work, spirit, learning, money, household, creativity, etc. It has colors. It has categories. It is attractive. I spend time on it. I fantasize about managing it. It’s so comprehensive, the only thing missing are check-marks.

This morning I made the mistake of actually looking at the list. There were 200+ tasks. I read somewhere that most people accomplish, on average, about three actual “to-do” list-type tasks per day. That means that, on average, the first thing I do in the morning is treat myself to 197 reminders why I don’t, why I won’t—why I can’t—measure up to my expectations. Ever.

So, I figured, why not rewrite out a list of all things I can actually control, and those I can’t? It turned out that list was a bit lopsided. So much so that it wasn’t even a list anymore—it had to be graphed. That worked! Now I’ve winnowed my to-do list down to the suggested number of items: three.*

To-do Today

1. Ask for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;

2. Ask for courage to change the things I can; and

3. Ask for wisdom to know the difference.

Happy trails!

Help Wanted

Help Wanted

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…
For anyone struggling with asking for—or accepting—help from a “Higher Power”, I’ll be happy to share any responses I receive from this Craigslist posting.
Happy trails!

Better Fellas

Better Fellas

Greetings, fellow trudgers “on the road to happy destiny”…

I was speaking with a friend about the unique quality women have for sharing intimacy. She told me, “Put three or more women together, and there’s healing going on.” I thought it was remarkable. I told her, “There’s another old saying: ‘Put three or more men together, and there’s farting going on.’ ” “Or belching,” she offered.

Other than gastric releases, suffice to say that we men do not open up easily. Why? That could fill many a book (and has), but the short version is: we were trained, and we learned our lessons well. Given my history, I don’t have compelling reasons to trust men. They have these funny habits of beating me up after school, going into the hospital and never coming out, not listening, stealing my money, smacking me when I disappoint them, leaving and not returning, getting drunk or high, turning abusive or violent, correcting me, outsmarting me, borrowing money and disappearing, taunting me in school, hitting me in the face, embarrassing me, stealing girlfriends, defeating me in sports, gloating about it, ripping me off in business, cutting my car off after passing on the right, and even getting sick and dying on me after I have come to love them.

I’ve been to men’s twelve-step meetings, mixed meetings, gay meetings, and even a lesbian meeting once by accident (they said “You can stay,” and we had a nice time—it was California. We had shared interests). Thanks to the traditions, they have by and large felt safe.

Lately, men’s meetings in particular have made a huge impression on me. It’s been incredibly healing to experience men in recovery who are willing to “lead with their weakness” and take the chance to show a vulnerable side. I’ve been blessed with the opportunity not just to take part in profoundly moving recovery with men, but to come to trust them—and myself—enough to socialize outside of meetings, make calls, go to events and activities, share meals and just get to know these amazing, smart, often damaged, willing and honest, always complex and astonishingly brave creatures—men. Which, I guess, includes me. So today I feel especially grateful…

I have meetings with strong traditions that give me the safety to be open and honest.

I have male friends in recovery who are “serious as a heart attack” about change—but haven’t lost their sense of humor.

I have sponsors who have learned pretty much everything there is to know about me, yet haven’t given up and left.

I have a higher power available who sometimes speaks to me directly through these capable, crazy and courageous men.

I have a program that is there to help me change into a better man than I ever hoped I could be.*

Happy trails!

*PS  In the movie As Good As It Gets, Jack Nicholson tells Helen Hunt that he is going to get the help he needs to get better:

Jack: “I’ve got a really great compliment for you, and it’s true.”

Helen: “I’m so afraid you’re about to say something awful.”

Jack: “Okay, here I go.” [pause]…  “You make me want to be a better man.”

Helen: [pause] “That’s maybe the best compliment of my life.”

Jack: “Well, maybe I overshot a little, because I was aiming at just enough to keep you from walking out.”

The Deer is the Headlights

The Deer Is The Headlights

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

This weekend I found myself—once again—being tailgated. This is an average morning experience in our town, where getting a cup of coffee is a competitive experience. I tried my best to ignore it. As we went on for several miles my resentment started mounting. Soon, I was ogling his front grill in my mirror. I fantasized about locking up my brakes and turning his pretty new Audi into conceptual art.* In frustration, I reached up to set the rear-view mirror to night-time to block my view of his car. And that’s when it happened.

A young buck shot out of the woods from my left on a dead run. The deer raced past my front grill, missed the front of my car by maybe five feet, and raced into the woods on the right and was gone. Over. I didn’t have time to swerve or brake. I didn’t even have time to think the word “deer” much less shriek “Holy Mother of God on a Bicycle.” If this had been a movie set with professional stunt drivers and animal wranglers, they couldn’t have timed it better.

I was in shock, and rolled to the next stop sign just trying to settle the adrenaline down. As I sat there, the majesty of the moment dawned on me. I got out of my car and walked back to the Audi. I wasn’t going to rip the wiper blades off his car. I wasn’t even mad. I actually don’t know what I was doing—I just couldn’t let this moment go unacknowledged. The driver rolled down his window.

I said “Did you see that?” And he said “I sure did.” I told him “I was so busy looking at your car in my mirror, I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s a miracle I didn’t hit that deer.” He said “Sorry, I didn’t think I was that close.” I said “I have no idea why I didn’t slam into that deer. Then, you would have probably hit me, and we’d both have wrecked cars and one dead deer.” He wasn’t going there. He just said “Wow. He was beautiful. Did you see the antlers on him?”

I couldn’t even get mad, it was all too perfect. I drove away looking up (I’m not sure why that’s where I look) repeating to whoever might be listening, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…”

So, just for today, I get it. Just when I think my Higher Power has pulled a disappearing act, I am reminded in a blessed way that whenever I’m really really busy paying attention to what someone else is doing wrong, the chances are very good I’m not paying attention to where I’m going. I’m also not seeing what’s right in front of me—or behind me. And sometimes those things, which might at first glance seem like objects of stress, worry or fear, are instead messages of incredible beauty, examples of pure truth that can bring understanding and connection. And, reminders that my Higher Power doesn’t always find it necessary to hit me in the head with a frying pan to make sure I find some gratitude. It’s often dependent only on my point of view.

Or, as I’ve heard it said “We get a daily reprieve based on our spiritual condition.”

Happy Trails!

PS  I once read an insurance company report on accidents that surprised me. Can you guess what the study reported as the number one cause of aggressive driving and road rage that led to accidents involving serious damage, injury or death? It was people leaving their home ten minutes late.

From the Desk of…

From the Desk of...

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

How’s 2010 shaping up for you so far? I’ve been having a challenging time of it. It may have to do with my avoiding some “Good orderly direction” I received some time ago. It was gently suggested to me that I might want to write a “Letter to God” [Shorthand for: a Higher Power as I may or may not understand him/her/it].

I thought to myself, “Yes! I must do that! Right after I finish reorganizing the basement, and get that root canal taken care of.” Nonetheless, having been told that the answer to suggestions from our caring guides should be “yes,” I went about it. Guess what: it only took me five minutes. Well… give or take five hours. Er, five weeks, I should have said. Okay: it took me months. Months and months. I’ve lost count how many months. What can I say, postal delivery to God is quite slow in my case. Thoughtfully slow: apparently I tend to do a lot of editing and rewrites, where God is concerned.

So you can imagine how delighted I was when—lo and behold—God wrote back! The response arrived faster than my letter went out. It was suggested to me that I keep the letter from God close at hand. You’re close at hand, aren’t you? So, here it is—and hey: I’m showing you mine—feel free to show me yours.

Happy trails!

PS  Today’s Quiz: What’s the first thing one should say to God? Answer: Good morning.

Here’s the text of the letter in the image above

Thanks for writing. I know it wasn’t easy. I know you find it difficult and embarrassing to ask for help. I am touched that you reached out.

You work so hard. You expend tremendous energy.  The intensity of your struggle takes so much of your life force to keep up. Holding on to those grievances, to your losses, to the familiarity of emptiness, to predictability instead of delight in surprise, to putting compresses on painful old wounds using those remedies which stopped working years ago, just because they’re the only cures you know how to apply on your own… it must be exhausting.

You wake up feeling such weight. Your heart cries out that you are alone. You feel angry and hurt. You feel shame and regret. You feel you have kept people away who love you. You are astonished and dismayed at how you’ve squandered gifts you’ve been given.

Sometimes, instead of facing your day with gratitude and resolve, you face it in woundedness, in the victimized patterns you grew up with. You mindlessly march down an old road, echoing the chants of voices from deep in your past: “Life is hard, and then you die,” “I’d rather just be by myself,” “Relationships are just too difficult;” instead of openly acknowledging that you deeply need others, and want to feel needed by them as well.

First off, you don’t need to do this alone. I have more than enough energy for both of us.

Second, what have you got to lose? You don’t have to trust. You don’t have to have faith. All you have to do is ask. Ask for trust. Ask for wanting to trust. Ask for faith. Ask for the willingness to receive faith. Ask for forgiveness. Ask for wanting to forgive. If you don’t “want to” forgive yourself or others, then ask for wanting to want to.

Ask for directions. Tell me what you want. I’ll show you how to get it. The signs will surround you. They will be unmistakeable—if you are watching and listening, and feeling.

Stay sober in every sense of the word. I really want you to live a sober, meaningful life — it’s not a moral question for me. It’s a question of sight, of vision. If you’re not living in a sober and serene manner, you’ll have blinded yourself. If you’re blind, you’ll miss all my directions, guidances and messages of great beauty and love. You might find yourself down a wrong path again—and at that moment you’ll turn to me and ask, “How did I get here?” Make your spiritual condition your most important job.

Do all this one moment, one hour, one day at a time… but start in this moment. I have all the time in the world. Literally.  You don’t..

Bee Afraid

Bee Afraid

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” — Franklin Delano Roosevelt

I admit it: I’m scared of stuff. As some may remember, underwater weeds pose problems for me. Also, the dark: I’m a big boy, but not a big fan.

But nothing compares with how I feel about bees. I don’t know why. It’s not like I’m allergic. I was swarmed by yellow-jackets as a camper — maybe 12 stings on a nine-year-old will do it. All I know is, bees turn my pulse into a jackhammer, I salivate like Pavlov’s favorite dog, and my legs start running without asking me which direction.

I understand, at least intellectually. I have “apiphobia.” I get it. Bees typically only bother humans who disturb them. Bees are blessed creatures. They’re important to the planet, they’re endangered. I like their honey, too. And, I think they’re amazing and beautiful.

Perhaps I could probably find treatment that might help. But that won’t cure all the other stuff that freaks me out…

1. Fear of going broke
2. Fear of crashing the car
3. Fear of getting cancer
4. Fear of being abandoned
5. Fear of feeling embarrassed or foolish
6. Fear of dying alone in a nursing home in a puddle of pee
7. Fear of being paralyzed from the neck down
8. Fear of being paralyzed from the neck up
9. Fear of being misunderstood or falsely accused
10. Fear of a heart attack
11. Fear of Fox News becoming “the most trusted name in news”
12. Fear of having the Red Sox win another series

The list goes on and on. I feel my throat constrict, the hairs on my neck stand up, and chills literally go down my spine. So what’s a boy to do?

I read the other day that there are twelve steps designed to help with fear. I understand that the fourth one (which reads “4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves,”) has a special slot reserved for fears: a column just to the right of “resentments.” Huh?!? What’s that got to do with moral inventories? But as I begin to I write them down, I engage in a time-tested process — of change. Maybe that leads to a lessening, or even an end to these fears.

I heard someone once say, “Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.”

Are these extravagant promises?

[What do you think?]

Happy trails!

One WHAT at a Time?

One What at a Time?

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

I set about this morning arranging how I plan to tackle all of my problems at once. There’s nothing like tackling a tax return to give myself the feeling that all my problems are mounded up into one huge sticky ball that’s about to run me over. I glanced up and saw a little post-it note over my desk. Someone wrote it and stuck it there, I don’t know who — but the handwriting looks suspiciously like mine. The post-it note reads:

“it’s one DAY at a Time”

It occurs to me… if that’s what “It” IS, then what is “It” NOT? For instance, I suspect that “It” is NOT…

One Overwhelming Project at a Time.

One Dysfunctional Relationship at a Time.

One Hell of a Year at a Time.

One Frustrating Diet at a Time.

One Soured Friendship at a Time.

One Time of the Month at a Time.

One Impossible Budget at a Time.

One Empty Marriage at a Time.

One Crippling Exercise Regimen at a Time.

One Impossible Boss at a Time.

One Heartbreaking Divorce at a Time.

One Long Overdue Thesis at a Time.

One Week That Will Never End at a Time.

One Delusional Business Plan at a Time.

One Torturous Job Interview at a Time.

One Unecessary Certification Test at a Time.

One Lousy Homework Assignment after Another at a Time.

One Date From Hell at a Time.

One Unbalanced Checkbook at a Time.

One Overly Long Self-Evident Self-Help Book at a Time.

One Deranged Narcissistic Client at a Time.

One Self-Involved Teenaged Child at a Time.

One Two-faced Co-worker at a Time.

One Diabolical Government Plot at a Time.One More Fine Mess I’ve Gotten Myself Into Again at a Time.

or…

One Tax Return* at a Time.

So, just for today, I’ll acknowledge the messengers, miracles, signs and spirits — and post-it notes — that come into my life every day, reminding me that: I’ll be okay. There is enough. I have enough. I am enough. I am loved, and I am worth working it, One Day at a Time.

Happy Trails!

PS. * A quote for the day: “Friends and neighbors complain that taxes are indeed very heavy, and if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to pay, we might the more easily discharge them; but we have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly.” — Benjamin Franklin

Collecting

Tiny Miracles

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

I have a hobby I’ve been working on for years: I’m a collector.

My favorite thing to collect? Injustices. Particularly those done to me. I scour each day searching for instances of my having been wronged, unfairly accused, mistreated, abused, misled, held hostage, ripped off, victimized or made to look the fool. Once found, I retrieve these treasures – often rough little knick-knacks in need of some restoration, some amplification. I bring them back to my laboratory. I carefully clean, polish, brush and preen each one (hence the expression “pet” peeves). I “enhance” them.

Once they’re ready, I include them in my collection. This bag of goodies has a label on it that reads: You Owe Me. I carry it around. It only weighs about three hundred pounds, but it’s okay, I can manage. Just because it keeps me doubled over in pain, don’t worry about it. It’s all going to be part of my upcoming “My Life is Harder than Yours” spring collection.

Given the amount of aggravation and discomfort inherent in Injustice Collecting, you’d think I would “Drop the Bag of Rocks” at some point. But it’s not just any Bag of Rocks. It’s my Bag of Rocks.That’s why, rather than giving up collecting, I was so pleased to hear a friend suggest an alternative obsession: keeping track of miracles. You know what I mean: the tiny ones. Those little miracles that happen every day when we’re “working it.” When I’m recovering to the best of my ability. When I’m taking things one day at a time, one step at a time, or one action at a time. When I’m learning how to live life in “conscious contact” with you-know-who. When I seek to “practice these principles in all my affairs.”

So, just for today, I thought I’d write down the miracles that have happened to me so far. Right now it’s only 8:30 am. So far…

I woke up. That’s One. I was greeted by a insanely cute cat asleep next to me. That’s Two. I said good morning to my wonderful daughter as we got ready to start our day. Three. I made super-tasty oatmeal, on a stove we have that cooks food, that’s powered by electricity (which we have had restored after the storms). Four, five, six. I took a hot shower that felt so good I said “OMG” when the water hit me. Seven. I did my little routine – candles, reading, meditation and prayer. Eight. Put on extremely comfy clothes. Nine. I took my daughter to her fantastic school. Ten. I finished this sketch and am writing this message, using the gifts I’ve been given that allow me to put voice and pictures to feelings. Eleven.

And, somewhere, you, my fellow trudgers on this most miraculous road of happy destiny, may read this today. That’s Twelve.

Pretty good for one morning.

Happy Trails!

Who’s In Charge

Who's in Charge?

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

“If everything seems under control, you’re just not going fast enough.” — Mario Andretti

I’ve been reading an interesting book* on spirituality, the theory of which is that spiritual change and recovery is, at the core, a control battle waged daily between each of us and our Higher Power.

My insistence on maintaining the illusion of control over my life manifests itself in cunning, baffling and powerful ways. Maybe I just want to help. Is that being “controlling?” If I don’t show up — how is that being bossy? I looked up “control” in a thesaurus — several, in fact. I thought I’d find two dozen or so synonyms (by the way, “to predict” is listed as a synonym for control). So far, I found 123…

administer, advise, arrange, ascertain, assure, be at the helm, be in charge of, be in the driver’s seat, be in the saddle, bind, boss, bottle up, bridle, bully, call the shots, cap, captain, care for, carry on, check, change, choke off, collect, come to grips with, command, conduct, constrain, contain, coordinate, corner, cow, curb, dampen, deal, deal with, direct, discipline, dispose, dominate, domineer, eliminate, ensure, exaggerate, exercise, exercise restraint over, fetter, get it together, govern, guide, handle, head, head up, hogtie, hold back, hold in, hold purse strings, hold sway, instruct, insure, juggle, keep, keep in check, keep in line, keep a lid on, lead, let go, lord over, limit, manage, manipulate, master, mind, minimize, mismanage, modify, monopolize, order, operate, organize, overlook, oversee, pilot, possess, predict, predominate, preside, prevent, process, push buttons, put the brakes on, quarterback, quell, regiment, regulate, reign, rein in, repress, requisition, restrain, restrict, rule, run, run the show, run things, see to, shackle, simmer down, smother, steer, subdue, subject, subjugate, superintend, supervise, suppress, take care of, tend, test, tether, transmogrify, verify, work,

and…

work it! Feel free to post more…

Happy Trails!

J.

*PS The book is Recovery: The Sacred Art by Rami Shapiro.

Things I Don’t Want… To-Do List

Things I Don't Want... To-Do List

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

A friend of mine recently emailed about me…

“Below is a list of things I would like to have completed in the next few days which I have proved to myself that, left on my own, I cannot (or will not) do them.

I need help. Will you help me?”

Being far more clear-headed—and willing to share opinions—about anyone’s task management issues other than my own, I wrote back “Sure!”

And so, I got right to work on a “To Do” list pad — a list of things I don’t wanna do.

In my case, unless my “To-Do” list reads “eat entire chocolate cake,” “sit in sun & bake self silly,” “pick out new sports car,” or “catch up previous seasons of Battlestar Galactica,” chances are pretty good that for a number of the items on my list, my plan is simple:

I JUST DON’T FEEL LIKE IT.

Growth and change can be difficult, sometimes painful. I heard a person at a twelve-step meeting say “This program is really difficult.” I thought to myself, “Abso-lutely right—but if you think this program is difficult, try no program.”

They don’t call it work because it’s easy. Who wants to forge into strange and painful territory and poke around in those hurt emotional spots, searching for truth? Who wants to give other people permission to be honest with us—sometimes painfully honest—about our character defects? Who wants to live in a state of discomfort, be challenged, and encouraged to strive constantly forward into fact-facing and fear-facing that can be scary—even heartbreaking at times? Who would want to do that?!?*

*Answer: Anybody who has ever lived in or around addiction or alcoholism—that’s who.

Does it matter if “I don’t feel like it?” Actually, no—not much. I can take note of it, like, “Oh, look—I don’t much feel like doing that. Isn’t that interesting? I’m going to do it anyway.” Perhaps, like my friend, I have to admit I can’t do it—at least not alone. Perhaps I have to face something worse than procrastination: isolation.

So, just for today, I’m can..

1. Make a “To Do” list of things (research suggests 3 to 5 maximum**) I may not feel like doing today, but want to have done.

2. Start each item with “I don’t feel like ______” and fill in the blank.

2.5. Say something like “On my own, this isn’t going to get done.”

3. Ask myself where I can find the help to get it done.

4. Go to the source, ask for the help.

4.5. Receive the help (hint: for some, this is the hardest part of all!)

5. Then, do the thing—whether I feel like it or not.

6. When its done, be grateful and celebrate!

Very important last step there! Once it’s done, I can make a very big deal out of how wonderful that is. You know, tear off my coat. Go running down Main Street like the village idiot. Scream out “I balanced my checkbook!!” or “I wrote the stinkin’ report!!” or “Even though it scared the crap out of me, I told the truth!!!” or “I told my sister to mind her own business!” or whatever. I know that people will be leaning out of their windows, showering me with flowers, chanting “Go! Go! Go! Go!” Grandparents at red lights will lean down and whisper to their grandchildren, “There goes the guy who did the right thing TODAY.” YAAY!!!

Happy trails!

** PS Productivity research indicates that the average person’s “To-Do” list contains 12 to 15 items. The same research indicates that most people accomplish on average about three (3) of those items per day.

iChart

iChart

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

One of my favorite expressions is: “I have enough; There is enough; I am enough.” Trouble is, I’m not sure I believe it.

Why is it so hard to believe? Is it that I’m so used to negative messages?

“I’m not worth it; life sucks; I’m alone; I’ll never work again; my body is terrible; I’m dumb; people are no good; I’m incompetent; I’m not lovable,” etc. I see messages like these. They push me toward a life of resentment, discontent and self-hatred. They drive me toward acting out in all kinds of completely insane ways. It’s a miracle I haven’t ended up pushing a shopping cart, wearing six coats and muttering to myself about how it’s all Dick Cheney’s fault.*

Just for today, I’ll be reminded that messages of self-worth may not be the first things I notice, but I can look for them. I can start (of course) with gratitude for the things I am blessed with. I can stop trying to control things (the things I can’t control might be good starting points). I can ask for help. I can receive help when it’s given.

I can breathe.

As my perspective is changed, I find serenity. As my serenity improves, I find connection. As I become connected, I find an end to suffering. When I stop living in suffering, I become open to a life of freedom, joy, love and peace.

Happy trails!

J.

PS * Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean it’s not true.

Blennophobia

Water

The DSM-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Version IV) is filled with the thousands of mental illnesses, disorders and neuroses currently available. One of the more interesting choices is Lachanophobia, an irrational fear of vegetables. Current research indicates that less than 1/10th of 1 percent of the population suffer from Lachanophobia. The book also lists Blennophobia, the irrational fear of slime. A slightly larger population segment suffers from Blennophobia, about 1/5th of 1 percent of the population. Sadly, I am one of the 1/2000th of 1 percent who suffer from both.

Years ago, my friend Michael and I went out sailing on a very large lake in Wisconsin. We were on a little sunfish sailboat, and it was a very windy day. It wasn’t long before our boat capsized, and we discovered it was great fun getting it right again. Soon, we were deliberately capsizing the boat, trying to pearl the front end to get the boat to cartwheel. and in general enjoy trying to drown one another.

During one of these capsizings, the boat went all the way upside down, rudder-up. It was difficult to right it, and when we got it righted, we saw why: the sail came out of the water hanging from the mast in shreds. Apparently we’d hit a submerged bramble or tree or something.

There was no way that sail was going to work again. There was nothing for it but to swim the boat to shore. Trouble was, we were a long way out. We jumped in, and I pulled on the cleat in front, doing the side-stroke, while Michael pushed from the back, kicking his legs.

This went on for what seemed like hours. We grew cold and tired, our arms were hurting. Hell, everything was hurting, and the shoreline never seemed to get closer. We got pretty crabby, no pun intended.

Suddenly, I felt something brush against my leg. My first thought was: this is not good. I really don’t like touching things underwater—tall weeds, I would have to say, being the worst. A nightmare, in fact. I can’t explain this, but there you have it.

I said “There’s weeds or something down there.” Michael was very concerned for me. He said “Shut up and keep pulling.” Then a bunch of somethings brushed my leg. “That’s it.” I shouted, and I scrambled onto the boat. Michael said “I’m not pushing your sorry ass, get off the boat and pull!” I said “There’s no way I’m going back in the water if there’s weeds. Not going to happen.”

Michael jumped on and moved forward, cursing. I was ready. We grappled and twisted, yelling foul names and pounding on each other. He got me off balance and knocked me into the water. I went in deep, into a LOT of weeds. Very, very tall weeds. “Wisconsin Killer Weeds,” I believe is the technical term. I screamed underwater, and swam back up in a desperate panic. Michael stopped me from getting on board, so I wrapped my arms and legs around the bow, refusing to loosen my grip. Michael kept yelling “You’re totally psychotic!”, trying to pry my fingers apart and using his feet to try and scrape me off the boat like a barnacle.

We argued and fought, screaming and laughing ourselves sick out on that cold windy lake for a long time. We no longer cared about getting the boat back, we were so focused on causing the other person misery. Finally, I heard a sound. “Knock it off!” I yelled to Michael, who was busy gnawing on my knuckles to loosen my death grip. We went quiet and I turned and saw, far off, three men standing on the shore of the lake. They looked like bugs, but we could hear them yelling something. “WHAT?!?” Michael yelled, and we hear a voice across the water calling “Saaam Duuuufff!!!”

Michael said to me, “Sam Duff?!?” I was half underwater, clinging to the boat while those cursed weeds were still tormenting me by brushing against my back, but I said “Never heard of him.” Michael stood up on the boat and shouted “There’s no Sam Duff here!” And we heard three faint voices yell in unison, “STAAAAAANNND UUUUUP!”

I unwrapped my feet from the boat and swung them under me and immediately hit soft sand. I planted my feet and stood up — we were in three feet of water.

The DSM-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Version IV) lists another interesting irrational fear: Phronemophobia—the fear of thinking. Now, when I’m lost in worry, I can remember to just STAND UP. Sometimes the water is nowhere as deep as I thought.

Dog With a Bone

Dog With a Bone

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

I hope you found joy, connectedness and peace of mind over the holiday season. I did, and I am grateful for it. But I have to add that, personally speaking, it was not easy to do.

Perhaps it’s the pressure I put on myself. Do I think I need to be finding joy, connectedness and peace of mind because it’s the holiday season? Maybe that’s what stresses me out. I wish I could keep things simpler, but that still defies me. However it goes, my favorite part of the holidays continues to be the part where I thank god and say “that’s done for another ten months.”

I was thinking about simplifying things while playing Scrabble. I wanted to spell G-O-D on the board. It didn’t fit, so I had to reverse it, and spelled D-O-G instead. I was frustrated because the D ended up on the triple letter score instead of the G, which led my opponent to gloat terribly.

It got me to thinking about that famous palindrome*, GOD-DOG. I thought, what if a dog were my Higher Power? How bad would that be? Could I learn how to live life happy, joyous and free just by following a dog’s G.ood O.rderly D.irection? I Googled it (of course) and it turns out I’m not the first person to have pondered this. I mashed the ideas I found together, and came up with a new life plan:

If a dog were my Higher Power…

When the people I love came home, I would run to greet them.

I would never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

I would be in ecstasy every time fresh air and wind hit my face.

I would take naps. Lots of naps.

Whenever I’d rise, I would yawn, stretch out, and smile.

I would run, romp, and play every day.

I would thrive on being loved, and let people touch me.

If people touched me in ways I didn’t like, I would let them know.

I wouldn’t bite someone when a simple growl would do.

If I saw a ball – any ball – I would play with it.

On warm days, I would stop and lie on my back in the grass.

On cold days, I would stop and lie on my back in the snow.

On wet days, I would flail around in the rain and not mind a bit.

On hot days, I would drink lots of water.

I would lie under a shady tree.

When I was happy, I’d dance around and wag my entire body.

If someone I love was having a bad day, I’d sit close by until they felt better.

If I were near water, I’d be in the water.

I would delight in the joy of a long walk.

When I walked, I’d hardly be able to restrain myself from running.

I would eat with gusto and enthusiasm.

I would stop when I’ve had enough.

I would be loyal. Incredibly loyal.

I would look the people I love right in the eye.

I wouldn’t be fussy. I’d just make the best of whatever is going on.

I wouldn’t pretend to be something I’m not.

If what I wanted were buried, I’d dig until I found it.

I would always be grateful for each new day.

Happy trails—and Happy Twenty-Ten!

* PS Here’s another palindrome for you: “Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?”

Why I Won’t Be There

Please Excuse Me (click to enlarge)

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

Sometimes getting to twelve-step meetings is a real hassle for me. Then, just because I might miss a time or two, it starts—you know, the phone calls. Obnoxious pushy people calling to ask probing personal questions like “How are you?”

I finally figured out what I need: a multiple-choice Meeting Excusal Form. For your convenience, I’ve attached a downloadable version of this handy form* I created. It’s for those special circumstances when life just won’t wait. Like every day. Now, next time you or anyone you know just “doesn’t feel like it,” remember: why go to a meeting when you can just fill out the form, fax it in, and get back to what really matters!

Happy Trails!

* PS  Click on the link below to download a PDF of this handy Meeting Excusal Form!

Please Excuse Me

The Tools

Using The Tools

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

What do you do when you’re working hard using the tools of recovery—and stuff isn’t getting better? What if it’s getting worse? Do you ever “Let Go and Let God”—only to get “Whacked Upside Thine Head“?

Like many a curious soul exploring “The Secret,” and the whole Power of Positivity craze, I’ve been simply bursting forth with notions of Abundance, Prosperity, and damn good Ju-Ju in general. Obviously, I’m not doing as instructed: the universe has been responding with locusts. I love Pima Chodron, but what do I do if I “Start Where I Am,”—and it Sucks Dead Bears? I’ve tried “Being In the Now,” but what does Eckhardt Tolle want me to do when “The Now” bites the Big One? What if I’m “turning it over” and finding dog poop underneath? What is up with that?!?

Family and friends in medical crises, everyone around me in financial free-fall, clients acting like mental patients, serenity-busting nonsense at spiritual gatherings…  there are some mighty unhappy-looking shoppers passing me in the aisles these days. My stomach sounds like I ate a live mole rat for lunch. Did the universe figure out I was faking it? Did the power that created the cosmos decide that a bucketload of bat guano on my head would be good medicine?

I’ve been using The Tools of recovery, diligently working the Twelve Steps.* Okay, maybe in my own unique way, but I think it’s a good approach! For instance, I like to start with the Twelfth Step, and work my way back to the First. What’s that you say? “Hey—you sound so serene, I’m interested!” I’ll just bet!

So, here’s how I’ve been doing it:

12. I start with Step Twelve—bringing the message to others. All others. I reach out to them, whether they have the good sense to ask or not. I give advice I haven’t got time to heed, but it’s always good. Feel free to ask.

11. After that, I turn to Step Eleven—meditation and prayer. I use these to improve my conscious contact with myself. I can almost read my own thoughts!

10. Once that’s done, it’s on to Step Ten, continuing to take inventory. I go over events and replay them until I find I am not at fault. I diligently take personal inventory of others until I can clearly see where they went wrong.

9. Then it’s time for Step Nine, the amends. I’m not proud – I’ll ask for an amends from anyone who has done me wrong. Once in awhile, I’ll apologize to folks in spite of not knowing what it is they dream I may have done to them. Once I’m finished with those amends, I’ll make a list and go to step 8.

8. Maybe in my list, I realize I missed a few. Quite a few, as it turns out. Okay. Well, later for them. I will get to it, but today I am booked solid.

7. Next, I like to get to Steps Seven and Six, you know, asking to have my annoying quirks lessened. This is where I work hard at becoming a completely humble person—and I succeed. Plus I’m going to act better, much better, according to me. I apply my own rigorous standards to whatever it is I think I should be acting like. I’ll even ask “How am I doing?”

6. Then I become “entirely ready”—to see how my plan is going.

5. After that, I like to sit down with someone in the program, or maybe a bunch of people in a meeting or something, preferably people who don’t know me well, and share “the exact nature”—well, at least the approximate nature—of my wrongs. And how I feel about it. I don’t bother writing it all down. I’ll remember it later, and if not I can always explain it better in a meeting, preferably one where they don’t time shares.

4. Once that’s done, I’ll do that “fearless and thorough moral inventory” by jotting down a few “defects” (or “quirks” as I call them) I might have missed for future reference. I usually file those under “Things To Do”. My Step 4 is now complete.

3. Moving right along, I’ll “make a decision to turn my will and my life over”—by asking a Higher Power to pitch in. This requires my saying “Hey! How about a little help here?!??” This shows I am willing. I’m not proud! I’m willing to let God chip in when asked.

2. If my polite requests for help go unanswered, I realize I might need a change. I might be asking the wrong Higher Power. That’s when I come to believe. I believe I better redefine my Higher Power. I can start with a new theological philosophy. I’ll use the same approach, different God.

1. Once these steps are complete, I can address that pesky business about life being unmanageable, and that I’m powerless to change it by myself. This is one step that gives me fits! I don’t understand it… I’m working the other eleven so HARD. But I know if I do them again HARDER they’ll work. I read it in The Promises.

So—if you’re feeling the same way, try my approach—practice using just the Tools of the Program by working the Twelve Steps in any order you want! And be sure to let me know how it goes.

Happy trails!

* PS For a complete listing of The Twelve Steps, in the correct order, the entire AA Big Book is online — just Google it.

Let Me Out of My Way

Let Me Out of My Way

Greetings, fellow trudgers “on the road of happy destiny”…

Today, a war story. Some years ago, friends and I crashed a fraternity party at a local university. As the evening’s “designated driver” (back then we called it “the short straw”) it was my job at the close of festivities to herd the primates safely back to The Zoo (our school, a humble institution that couldn’t afford luxuries like frat houses, classes—or grades).

At the head count, I couldn’t find Michael. The last anyone had seen of him, he had mumbled something about being “too hammered,” and wandered off, presumably to catch a quick “Barf ‘N Nap.”

After a brief safari, I found him in the frat house basement. The room was decorated in the style I refer to as “early psychedelic dungeon”—Hendrix and Dead posters, black lights, colored bulbs (the reprise of disco balls being a ways off still), pounding music—and Michael. He was passed out cold in a nastily frayed and stained Queen Anne chair. I yelled over the music, “Michael, we have to go!” but he didn’t budge. I yelled louder and shook his shoulder, still no response. So, I screamed “MICHAEL!!” and whacked him upside the head, us being close and all.

That time I think he heard me. His eyes exploded open, he lunged up and grabbed me by the shirt, flailing his arms around and dragging me with him. I tried to steady us before we went down in a looming puddle of beer, and he turned to me in a fit and shouted…

“LET ME OUT OF MY WAY!!!”

Years have passed, but not much time goes by one of us doesn’t remind Michael of that now-famous line. Lately that idea keeps coming up for me: indeed, please do—let me out of my way.

Whether I use words like “compulsive self-reliance,” “Let Go and Let God,” “Turn it over,” or the hundred other euphemisms I’ve heard for the Third Step in the Twelve Steps of Recovery (“3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him.”), the message remains the same: left to my very own best thinking, I ended up needing help in more rooms of recovery than I can count on one hand. And I have seven fingers on one hand. Do the math.

Sometimes I’m blessed to get useful reminders—both gentle and not—of some basic facts:

1. I am not the architect of the arc of my life

2. I am not the “director” of this particular production [for more on this see the AA Big Book, “How It Works,” pp 60-62]

3. I am not in charge of you, him, them, it—or anyone or anything else

It is then that I remember that I’m not powerless. I always have the power to resist changing. I have the power to deny that I need help from  you, from recovery, from a Higher Power. I have the power to forget to pray and meditate, to rationalize missing recovery meetings or reading literature. I have the power to indefinitely postpone working on a step. I have the power to refuse to grow up. I have the power to avoid the “hundred pound phone” and isolate when I most need to reach out for help. I am powerful indeed.

I’m blessed to be reminded of these things on a daily basis (sometimes via the “tiny miracle,” but more often via the “total screwup”). I begin to open the door to let powers greater than myself in. From there, I’m more able to receive and accept the direction, strength and hope that leads me to peace of mind, blessed connectedness to you, and great joy in being able to fully experience all of it—the ups and the downs—wherever I am in this most amazing process of change.

In every case, it’s about me getting out of my own way…

Happy trails!

The Muse

The Muse

Greetings, fellow trudgers on “the road of happy destiny”…

Do you ever get the urge to create—a work of art, a dance, an invention—a solution to a problem? Have you had trouble capturing an idea and giving it life? Been unable to start, or move forward—or finish? Perhaps it might shine one day, and suck the next? It’s an interesting process, isn’t it?

I’ve been sending out these “happy trudgers” writings (and, lately, drawings) for some time now. Sharing these has been helpful for me. I hope folks enjoy them. Creating these stories can be a challenge—even painful (“Think how we feel,” some might say). The “committee” of voices clang away in my head, ranging from self-centered pride when I hear “You should turn these into a book!” to nagging doubt and hopeless self-loathing, especially when someone emails and says “Take me off this list.” Inflated ego and low self-esteem, once again doing battle on the wet fields of one’s spongy little brain. I’d sell tickets, but who would come?

I’m learning to experience the changing nature of this process through the prism of personal change: in short, to “come to believe” that the creative process is a way of connecting to you, to myself, to the universe and the forces that surround and permeate everything. Note that I wrote process, not product—I’m not claiming my stories are the channeled word of God. Believing that could pose real problems. For instance, what if it turns out they’re the channeled word of Gary, a personal trainer from Lodi, New Jersey? What if I later learned that I’ve been manifesting “The Word of Gary”?

How embarrassing would that be?

Whatever the source, suffice to say that for me there is delicious mystery involved.

If you want to explore the terrain where creativity and spirituality flow together* (and let’s not restrict creativity to “the arts”) I want to recommend a funny, touching, inspirational and (for me) transformative talk by the writer Elizabeth Gilbert (author of “Eat, Pray, Love”) at the legendary TED (Technology, Education and Design) conference. Fifteen minutes that changed my day but good.

Have a cup of tea, sit back and relax, and as they say, “Wait for it…”

Happy trails!

J.

* PS If you’re interested, you might also want to check out http://www.artsanonymous.org, a twelve-step recovery group that focuses on the connection to creativity in every aspect of our lives.

Sharing Crazy

Sharing Crazy

Greetings, fellow trudgers “on the road to happy destiny“…

What’s your problem? Have you got it figured out?

I love to share my problems. Well, actually, I love to share stories about problems I’ve already solved. The funnier the better. Add in a dose of clever, poignant and insightful, and I’m a happy camper. Just don’t ask me to talk about the problems that might still be killing me.

This morning, I happened upon a 2-for-1 sale: I read something* that really spoke to me. Then, just in case I might have “missed the memo,” a friend called and asked permission to read something to me: of course it was the very same passage. I already had the book open on my desk, so as I was thinking, “Huh… I wonder if this really does pertain to me…” I followed along.

The reading was about (I’m paraphrasing here) how many of us resort to storytelling rather than share our experiences from the heart — reveal our struggles, and the very real pain we might be in. The conclusion of the reading was: “It may feel like an enormous risk, but talking honestly about the situation is the key to healing.”

It was a great reminder that although I may have grown up in situations where being honest and open wasn’t safe, and perhaps being entertaining, clever, satyrical or ironic was, and most treasured of all was having the answer to the question, I finally have places to go and people to be with who allow me to be safe even when I’m crazy, or dead wrong—recovering with my brothers and sisters on this “road of happy destiny.”

I’ve heard it said that sometimes people whose share things that might sound really crazy may be the very ones who are growing and changing the most. So… does that means that if I sound really crazy, you’ll be really impressed with my progress? No, not quite. I think it means that, just for today, I’ll ask for some willingness: the willingness to be honest and open—even if I’m feeling pretty nuts—if that’s what I need to do to get better. So, nuts to both of us!

Happy trails!

J.

* PS “The paradox of self-honesty is that I need the help of others to achieve it. I need their support to explore my feelings and motives, and to see that others have benefited from taking this great risk.”

Admit One

Admit One

Greetings, fellow trudgers “on the road of happy destiny”…

I heard a talk by an amazingly gifted speaker this past weekend. This wonderful speaker’s honesty reminded me that the “admitting” I do in recovery about powerlessness, “admitting” my character defects, the “admitting” of harms I may have caused, promptly “admitting” when I’ve been wrong—these all involve “admitting” a force larger than myself into my heart and mind.

Just for today, I’m going to admit the only power that has released me from the self-centered fear and craziness that almost destroyed (and ended) my life. And by the way—that power (a true master of disguises and accents) manifests himself, herself, itself daily, for me, in YOU.* So thank you!

Happy Trails!

*PS A tip of the Hatlo hat for the inspiration for the “ticket” art to RF

Dead But Still Right

Dead But Still Right

Greetings, fellow trudgers “on the road of happy destiny”…

Lately, I’ve been growing weary of these so-called “Twelve Steps” everyone keeps talking about. I don’t like being “told like it is” by wise, knowing advisors, well-wishers and “guides” in my spiritual life (sometimes referred to as “sponsors”). Man, sometimes the catchy slogans they offer up like candy just make me want to retch! That’s why I was so relieved to stumble across this new offer, which I’m very excited to share with you:

·····························································

Sick to death of “Good, Orderly Direction“?

Still looking for an “Easier, Softer Way?”

You’re NOT ALONE! That’s why there’s RENT-A-SPONSOR!*

Imagine a program that involves NO READING! NO WRITING! NO DEADLINES! Perhaps best of all, you’ll never have to share WHAT’S REALLY GOING ON—with ANYONE!!

At Rent-A-Sponsor, half-measures are our specialty. Just look at some of these features:

• No constant references to annoying books or steps that don’t look like they’ll work anyway!
• At Rent-A-Sponsor, we accept all your excuses and rationalizations, with a smile!
• Work only the Steps YOU want, in the order YOU choose!
• Our new EDS (“Extended Denial Support”)* is now available (additional monthly fees may apply)
• We will teach you the secret of giving it away—before you even have it!

Why “walk the walk” when you can just “talk the talk?” Why save your ass at the cost of losing your face? At Rent-A-Sponsor, we already agree with everything you have ever thought or said! After all, “It’s better to LOOK good than to FEEL good.”

We believe your plan for living is the best plan we’ve ever heard: just look at you! You look great, and we think you sound great, too! We want to hear all about it, so be sure to explain your philosophy of life to us, over and over again, in excruciating detail! (additional monthly fees may apply).

If you act now, we will include our “Fourth-Step Writing Service.” Yes, at Rent-A-Sponsor we take your inventory for you! WE share it with a God of OUR understanding. WE share it with another person—one you never have to meet! (additional monthly fees may apply). We mail you your Fourth Step in a plain brown wrapper. You can share it with yourself—or not—in the privacy of your own home!

Rent-A-Sponsor understands just how UNIQUE you are!

Call today at 1-900-676-6763 (900-O-POOR-ME). Remember, at Rent-A-Sponsor, you’re in charge! Because, after all…

“WHO KNOWS BETTER THAN YOU?”

If you order before midnight tonight, you’ll receive a free copy of the pamphlet “Recovering on War Stories Alone!”

Happy trails!

*PS The preceding was a paid promotional announcement by River-In-Egypt Accomodations Inc.

Conscious Contact

Conscious Contact

Greetings, fellow trudgers* on “the road of happy destiny”…

Do you do prayer and meditation? How’s it going for you? Me, I have my ups and downs. Sometimes a little Ravi Shankar helps, some sandalwood incense, maybe start with re-runs of Kung Fu.

This morning in a group meditation, I couldn’t get with it. I tried breathing, then I stopped. Ha ha. I focused on a mantra—but it was so freakin’ repetitive. I tried connecting but “I couldn’t get with the flow, dude—too many negative waves.” It got me thinking how much trouble I’ve had all my life connecting with a Higher Power. Having a personal sense of a spiritual life—one that might be readily available to me—has not come easily.

I felt frustrated. I tried to remain still and kept my eyes closed. I was thinking spiritual stuff like “How soon do I need an oil change?” But after a bit I did drift off. I found myself in a vivid day-dream. I was seeking out a Higher Power. In the dream, I learned that God was in a house. I went to visit the house, a cute little Tudor affair with half-timber and stucco, leaded windows. I thought, “Nice house God’s got. Cute.” OK, so my daydreams come with architectural detailing… go figure.

I went up the walkway to this big wooden door. Solid mahogany, iron strap hinges, cast-brass lion’s head knocker, big brass doorknob. “Say what you want, God is not cheap,” I thought. I knocked on the door. No answer. I rapped with my knuckles again, harder this time. Still nothing. I waited a bit, and then grabbed the big knocker and clapped it down a few times. “Is anyone home?” I called out. No response, no sound at all. “Hello!! Anybody there?” Nothing.

“That’s just great,” I thought. “Nobody home. Another stupid daydream, total waste of time.” I started to get ticked off. I was thinking “Here I am, I take the time and trouble to visit God, and no one even answers the door. How perfect is that?” I stood in front of the door and called out one more time, gave up and headed back down the walkway. When I looked back at the house, it was as still as when I’d walked up.

By the time I reached the sidewalk, I was getting really pissed. Unfortunately I also wasn’t looking where I was going (those two things seem to go together for me). I tripped on a huge crack in the sidewalk, landing on my hands and knees. Now I was mad, and hurt. I yelled “Goddammit!” and I thought I heard faint laughter, but when I listened I could only hear some stupid dog start barking, which only fueled my anger and embarrassment. I wanted to yell “Shut up!” but I figured I’d look even more foolish.

I skulked down the street, fuming, lost in thought about how unavailable God has been to me all my life. All these crummy things that have happened to me, all the disappointments, the losses. Where’s God been through all of that?!? Why even bother…

When I looked up I realized that I was now totally lost. This threw me into an even worse state—a total snit. I’m not great with directions, and it drives me crazy. I stomped along, muttering and cursing. After I wandered around for a bit, I looked up only to find the same Tudor house, but now it was across the street. I’d gone several blocks, but in a big circle. Now I was really mad. I stormed back up the walkway, determined to make something happen in this dumb daydream. I grabbed the big lion’s head knocker and slammed it down. “Open UP!” I yelled. I thought I heard a sound from inside, like muffled laughter. That got on my last nerve, and I reached down and grabbed the big doorknob, turned it, and opened the door. It swung inward, and there, standing in the foyer with his dog, was God.

He was doubled over in laughter. “Ohhhhh, ha-ha-ha, that was too funny! Oh, my ME! O.M.M.!!!” he cried, tears of laughter running down his cheeks. “Get it?!?! OMM?!?” He was really cracking himself up. “The look on your face!!! Ahhaaa-haa-haaa!” He was roaring with laughter, pointing at me and saying “I wish you could have seen your face!! Ohh-ho-ho-haa-ha-haaaaa…”

I was really angry. “Why didn’t you just open the door?!?” I yelled.

He gathered himself together, and walked up to me. “Look at my side of the door…. see?” I looked and the entire inside of the big door was perfectly smooth, no hinges, no fixtures… no knob. With a huge smile (he has very nice teeth), his eyes all crinkled up with glee, he said “See? There’s no knob on this side. I can’t open this door from this side.” He leaned in closer with that big smile and said, “You’re the only one who can.”

So, I came in, we had some tea and a nice chat. I met his dog, who turns out to be pretty nice, too. Really cute, kind of a border collie-mutt mix with an adorable bandana, goes by the name of Puck.

Happy trails!

* PS  Some folks have asked where the bit about “trudging the road of happy destiny” comes from. It’s the last paragraph of The Big Book, (before the stories), page 164:

“Abandon yourself to God as you understand God. Admit your faults to Him and to your fellows. Clear away the wreckage of your past. Give freely of what you find and join us. We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny. May God bless you and keep you—until then.”

Seventh Step Memo

Seventh Step Memo

Greetings, fellow trudgers “on the road to happy destiny.”

I was in a lively phone conversation yesterday, but in a state of exuberance and enthusiasm—excitement. I wasn’t present. A slip of the tongue, and the reaction was swift – a not-so-pleasant but helpful reminder that my sanity and serenity depends on my willingness to let go of more than just the negative stuff—compulsions, obsessions, neuroses, habitual bad behavior—I also have to give up some aspects of me I’m pretty attached to: like thinking fast, talking fast, approaching all of life with a lets-go, get-it-done attitude, instead of considering, listening—and just being.

In terms of twelve-step recovery, I used to think of Steps 4 and 9 as the tough ones, but the two short and rather innocent sounding Steps Six and Seven are, in my opinion, the ones where the rubber truly meets the road (or, as Bill Wilson wrote in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, these “separate the men from the boys”).

One reason might be that, as I’ve heard, “there’s no help available other than perfect help.” I’m not being instructed to hand over alcoholism, addiction, or codependency, or ask a Higher Power to remove personality traits I may find temporarily unpleasant. As the saying goes, “God doesn’t need your alcohol, drugs or insanity.”

I take these steps to mean that if I want what the people who have recovered seem to have, I’m left with no option but to surrender my entire self and engage in this process fully and to the best of my ability, surrendering the whole shebang.

Happy trails!

PS  The Sixth Step reads “6. Were entirely ready to have God remove these defects of character.”

The Sixth Step Prayer reads: “Dear God, I am ready for Your help in removing from me the defects of character, which I now realize are an obstacle to my recovery. Help me to continue being honest with myself, and guide me toward spiritual and mental health.”

The Seventh Step reads “7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.”

The (actual) Seventh Step prayer reads: “My Creator, I am now willing that you should have all of me, good and bad. I pray that you now remove from me every single defect of character which stands in the way of my usefulness to you and my fellows. Grant me strength, as I go out from here, to do your bidding.”