Willingness at 5:30

When I travel, I typically get up early, head down to the hotel lobby, and begin my morning routine of prayer, meditation, and writing. I choose the lobby because that is where coffee is readily available.

It’s amazing to me to watch a hotel come to life in the morning. Sounds coming from the kitchen assure me that today’s breakfast fare is being prepared. The smell of frying bacon wafts through the air. All the while, wait staff is busily setting up other parts of this morning’s buffet.

Things were already well under way when I arrived at my comfy chair in the lobby at 5:30. Breakfast begins at 6:00, so they must hustle to be sure all is ready. Their well orchestrated movements assure me that it will be. Each member of the team is doing their part to make sure the hotel guests have a great start to our days.

That’s only the work that I can see, hear, and smell. There is other work that went on behind the scene that I don’t see. Someone has to order all the food. The night auditor sets the tables (I came down really early once to witness that).

All this effort to make guests feel welcome. To make our stay special. To make us feel at home, when home is far away.

The planning that goes into this level of service is pretty intense. I know I’m spoiled today, because I’ve stayed in my share of hotels where “free” breakfast was a single serving box of cereal and a cup of orange drink, not even orange juice.

Obviously the work of the hotel staff is motivated by a paycheck. I doubt any of these good folks would be willing to come in to the hotel and do all this without being paid. That’s just a part of having a job.

It is easy to take hotel staff for granted. It’s easy to walk into a nice hotel and overlook the fact that someone is behind the experience. It’s as though they leave in the morning with bath towels strewn all over, and the bed unmade, and return in the afternoon to a fresh and clean room without considering how it got that way.

Not everyone appreciates the work that is being done on their behalf. Whether they are too preoccupied to give it thought, or that they are arrogant twits, these folks seem oblivious to the hard work of the hotel staff. In fact, one such arrogant twit just had a tantrum at the front desk. Apparently the exercise room is out of cups for water. Major crisis!

I know an arrogant twit when I see one. It’s a role that I can fall into pretty easily. My sense of entitlement quickly gets out of control, and before long I am the one barking at the front desk clerk over the smallest of irritants.

Amanda has helped me realize and work on these negative tendencies. From the beginning of our very first date, she demonstrated kindness and compassion to a stranger who could easily have been taken for granted. We walked in the door of a restaurant and as we approached the counter to order, she smiled at the gentleman taking orders and said “Hey feller!”

I thought she must know the guy. A friend perhaps? Or did she eat here that often? When we took our seats I asked how she knew him. “Oh, I just met him. I’ve never seen him before.”

It’s the same when we travel together. She takes time to interact with hotel staff. She makes friends wherever we go. When someone cleans our room, she appreciates their effort, and lets them know it.

All that kindness has rubbed off on me over time. I’m becoming less of an entitled and arrogant twit, and more of a grateful guest.

As with a nice hotel, there is a lot of behind the scenes effort that goes into our fellowship. Tables to be set out. Coffee to be made. Literature and key tags to be ordered. All of the little details that go into making a room full of recovering addicts feel welcome.

The big difference is that at a meeting, no one is getting paid. Service is at the foundation of all we do. Service is encouraged for everyone. For me, service was one of the earliest ways in which willingness expressed itself in my recovery.

At the time, Amanda was chairing a meeting once a week. We would arrive early and my job was to prepare the coffee. I didn’t just “make” coffee, I “prepared” it! Just the right amount of coffee in the filter. The exact level of water in the pot. Cups set out just so. Sugar and cream ready, along with stirring sticks. I wanted it to be just right.

It’s a simple thing, but that task gave me a much needed sense of worth. I was contributing. I was valued. I was willing.

The willingness to serve in NA can be seen in so many different ways. I have one friend who makes it his mission to greet everyone who comes to a meeting with a hug. Others who regularly provide rides to meetings to those who wouldn’t get there otherwise. Even those who will take meetings to people who are home bound.

Today, I’ll not just practice a willingness to serve. I’ll put my inner arrogant twit aside, appreciating those who serve, and becoming one of them.

Have a remarkable day!

Love, Dignity, and Respect

In the fall of 2015, my ex and I took an extended vacation to the northeastern United States. One of our goals was to see the beautiful fall foliage for which New England is famous.

That was also a time that marked the seventh month of my use of methamphetamine. I had no idea at the time that I was an addict. In my mind, meth was just a fun recreational drug. My disease had me fooled into thinking I was in control.

We were to fly from St. Louis on the first leg of our journey. The thought of flying with drugs did not appeal to me, so I had decided ahead of time that I would leave them behind. In my mind, there would be plenty on that trip to occupy my time, so the drugs wouldn’t be necessary anyway.

Over the coming ten days there was plenty to do. Though I thought about those drugs sitting back in my car, I wasn’t tempted to try and buy any during the trip. The ease with which I could just walk away from them for that short period emboldened me, further convincing me that my drug use was just that, drug use. No addict here.

The two of us enjoyed that trip. As we toured from Washington, DC to Maine, I became convicted about my drug use, and the double life I had been living. Near the end of the trip, it was decided. As soon as we got back I would throw away my drugs and never again pick up a pipe or syringe. Further, I would make a serious effort to rebuild the relationship with my ex. A marriage that had lasted almost thirty years at that point. I would try to find love again.

Still thinking that my drug use was under control, I convinced myself that there was no need to tell my ex about it. No, I would do the “noble” thing, and “protect” her from knowledge of the drugs and women.

We had parked our car outside a hotel near the airport in St. Louis. After arriving there, I said I wanted to go back into the hotel restroom to freshen up before the trip home. Grabbing that pouch that contained my drugs, I headed inside. My goal was to simple throw them away and head home. I would drive into the sunset, leaving the drugs and the lifestyle behind.

What happened next, for an addict, was predictable. As soon as I was alone with my drugs, all conviction was lost. I was powerless. Minutes later I walked out of that restroom, once again high. I had picked right back up where I had left off.

Common sense should have told me that I had a problem. Unfortunately, when this addict is using, common sense is nowhere to be found. Rather than working on a marriage that was already troubled, I withdrew even further from it. I had a secret to keep, and being close to anyone not part of that secret life was dangerous.

Looking back, the relationship was so strained by that point that I don’t think it could have been salvaged. Had it not been for the drugs, however, the end of that marriage would likely have been handled with at least some dignity and respect.

Dignity and respect were both missing from my life. Neither mattered as I sank further and further into my addiction. Eventually, all that mattered was the drugs.

The Narcotics Anonymous program is one of complete abstinence from all drugs. I need only look back to the fall of 2015 to understand why complete abstinence in necessary. For me, any mind changing or mood altering substance brings about a change. The Basic Text compares this change to the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It says that eventually Dr. Jekyll is lost forever, allowing Mr. Hyde to gain complete control.

In retrospect, that is the first evidence that drugs had complete control. With ten days of abstinence, the physical addiction was pretty much gone. Yet the obsession and compulsion to use were present in full force.

This story has been rattling around in my mind for the past few days, causing me a good deal of angst. That day proves to me that, when it comes to drugs, one is too many, and a thousand is never enough. I continued using after that day. I continued living a life that went against my core values and beliefs. Dr. Jekyll disappeared completely. Mr. Hyde was in complete control.

My story could easily have ended there. For most addicts, once Mr. Hyde is in control, he stays in control. Had it not been for the rooms of Narcotics Anonymous, I’m sure Hyde would have won.

Through NA, I have been able to stop using. I’ve lost the desire to use. I’ve even found a new way to live. That new way of life has restored my respect and dignity. It has brought love back into my life. It has provided me with an opportunity to start over. To love my wife. To treat both her and our marriage with dignity and respect.

By working the steps, and allowing my life to be guided by spiritual principles, I have been given a second chance at life. Today, I have a choice. I can choose to keep Mr. Hyde out of my life.

The past cannot be undone. I can never make right all the wrongs done. However, the past does not have to define me. Rather, it serves as a reminder. It encourages me to stay the course. To take my recovery seriously. To love Amanda passionately. To live life each day without the use of drugs.

Have a remarkable day!

Love Unspoken

Few phrases are more powerful than “I love you.” Those three little words carry so much weight, so much significance. They are words that should not be used together casually.

“I love you” is such a powerful statement that it doesn’t need to be spoken in order to be expressed. In fact, I would contend that it is in those times that they are not spoken aloud that they shine most brightly.

Growing up, the words “I love you” were not a part of my family’s vernacular. Saying “I love you” out loud was not necessary. In fact, it would have been redundant. There was never an opportunity to doubt the love that each of us had for the other. In our home, love was an action, and I cannot recall ever feeling unloved.

We were by no means perfect. We still had our conflicts. There were plenty of fights between my brother John and me. Plenty of times when our parents said “no” when we wished they would say “yes.” Yet, even in those times, I knew we all loved each other.

That love has carried me through some very hard times. These days, every telephone call ends with the words “I love you.” Living so far apart, the ability we once had to show our love for one another is challenged, so the spoken words serve as a reminder of the love we share.

Healthy families are like that. They share love for one another. The look out for each other. They sacrifice for each other, and have the others’ best interests at heart.

Growing up I took my family’s love for granted. I assumed all families were like mine. I assumed love was present in every home. Today I recognize how naive I was. Looking back, I can see just how fortunate I was to experience love in my home.

The words “I love you” are heard often in the rooms of Narcotics Anonymous. More importantly, those words are lived out in the rooms.

The words are lived out as members listen on in silent empathy as another shares honestly and openly about their struggles. Or when a sponsor sits down with a sponsee to work steps, sacrificing personal time to be of service. “I love you” is even spoken by the member who arrives early to make coffee, and keeps the pot full until the meeting’s end.

I am no longer naive where love is concerned. I’ve come to know people who didn’t grow up in an atmosphere of love. People who grew up in homes filled with violence, neglect, and abuse.

“Let us love you until you can love yourself” is one of those cliches heard often in the rooms of NA. Early on in my recovery, I didn’t understand it. I just couldn’t relate. That is, until I began to experience love from fellow recovering addicts.

Sure, they were telling me that they loved me, but their actions spoke so much louder than their words. Their actions were what convinced me that I was worthy of recovery. They had been where I was, and they wanted me to find the love they had found. That love is at the center of the new way of life referenced in the message of NA.

Whether one grew up in a healthy loving environment or not, recovery, and the love that surrounds it, is available to us all. Today, I get to focus on the spiritual principle of love. Today, I will let people know that I love them. I’ll even say it with words if I need to.

Have a remarkable day!

Integrity? In All My Affairs?

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s a question posed to nearly every child while growing up. The answers vary greatly from child to child. Everything from doctor to President of the United States. Police officer to paleontologist. Firefighter to rocket scientist.

Shaun and I had a conversation about career choices the other night. Since going to work at my new job last spring, he has asked several times what he would have to do to work for my company. My answer has been simple, stay in school, study hard, and by the time I retire, you should be finished with college and able to apply for my old position. Oh wow, that seems like a long time to his nine year old mind.

After hearing my answer, Shaun said he wasn’t sure he was up to that challenge. I assured him that he has all the time in the world to get ready for a career, whatever it is. The most important thing, I told him, is to find a career about which he can be passionate. One that will make him feel fulfilled. One for which he feels God has equipped him.

If one day he decided to follow in my footsteps that would be a remarkable compliment. However, that is not my goal. As a parent, or in this case, a bonus parent, my goal is to show him how to take his own footsteps.

By demonstrating a healthy work ethic, I can teach Shaun the value of hard work. More importantly though, I have the opportunity to teach Shaun about integrity. Yes, work is an obvious area where integrity shows in one’s life. More importantly, I want him to see integrity at work in the day-to-day stuff that goes on around him.

A huge part of demonstrating integrity to Shaun is seen in how I treat his mother. He sees us tease each other. We laugh together. We cry together. I open doors for her. When she’s tired, I create an environment where she can rest. When she needs a break from the men in her life, I take Shaun outside to play.

When I travel for work, the last part of my day is spent on a video call home to say goodnight to the two of them. He doesn’t just hear the words “I love you” spoken, he sees them lived.

It is important to me that Shaun sees me consistently doing the right thing for the right reason. Notice I used the word “consistently” rather than “always.” I’m still human, and prone to failing. When I do, integrity demands that I admit my wrongs.

Shaun has gotten to know me so well. He can see when I’m struggling. He can sense when anxiety is getting the better of me. At such times, he will come over an place a hand on my shoulder. “Kent, you need to go meditate.” He doesn’t expect perfection.

The twelfth step of Narcotics Anonymous says “Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs..” In all our affairs. That’s a big order, but not an impossible one. The key word is “tried.” Recovery doesn’t demand perfection. It demands effort.

Integrity is the key to practicing spiritual principles in all my affairs. Whether Shaun, or Amanda, or my sponsor, or anyone else is around, integrity allows me to be me wherever I go. It is the glue of my recovery. It helps my to stand strong in the face of temptation. It even helps me avoid temptation in the first place.

Amanda and I are as honest with Shaun about addiction as one can be with a nine-year-old. His innocent mind cannot begin to grasp the horrors of addiction, nor the depths to which it has taken us. We pray he never discovers these things for himself. By practicing the spiritual principles we are teaching him integrity.

I have learned what it’s like to lose everything due to a lack of integrity. Through the twelve steps of NA, and the spiritual principles, I’m learning how to rebuild my broken life. I’ve found a new way to live. One that is worthy of the admiration of a child.

At 56 years of age I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a person who is known for my integrity. For me, that is the fulfillment of my ongoing search for a new way of life.

Have a remarkable day!

Faith, Nose Hair, and Chewbacca

One of those things nobody told me when I was younger was that some day my hair would develop a mind of its own. This is especially true of my nose hairs. Those tiny thin hairs somehow have gotten out of control. It’s like they have been secretly taking steroids.

I’ve tried tweezers, small scissors, clippers, nothing seems to work at keeping these now spring-like hairs from growing. Just about the time I would think they were under control, I’d look in the mirror only to discover a particularly long and thick one hanging from my nose.

Nothing was working, and the problem was only getting worse. Amanda confirmed my worst fears a few nights ago when she pointed out that the view of my little beauties was much better from her angle. She is several inches shorter than I, and confided in me that the view from down there was spectacular!

Frustrated with my present situation, I remembered back to a post I had seen on Facebook a few months back. A friend had been convinced by his wife to let her wax his nose hairs. Picture the wax used to remove leg hairs, only shoved up one’s nose.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, so I asked Amanda to look into doing this for me. Being the take action person she is, before I knew it, Amazon had delivered our waxing supplies.

A few YouTube videos later, I found myself sitting on the couch with a Q-tip sticking out of my nose. On the end in my nose was a big glob of wax, cooling and hardening. After a few minutes, Amanda gave a good hard tug and boom, that glob of hardened wax came neatly out of my nostril.

We were both thoroughly disgusted by what we saw next. Upon close inspection of the wax, hundreds of nose hairs were visible. It looked like she had yanked the head of a tiny Chewbacca from my nostril.

Soon the second nostril was done, and I was free of those tiny little hairs. The inside of my nose was as bare as a baby’s bottom. With a little laugh, Amanda told me the the view from her angle was much improved!

It’s funny how faith works. In this instance, until my friend’s Facebook post, I had never even heard of waxing nose hairs away. Seeing it work for him made me believe it could work for me too. Seeing brought faith. Once faith took hold, I was ready to try for myself.

My experience with recovery from addiction has some startling parallels to my epic battle against nose hairs. First, like nose hairs, I first tried to ignore my problem with drugs. Then, I tried to control or hide my use. Switching drugs or methods of using them was like applying clippers or tweezers to my nose hairs. These methods were simply attempts to hide a problem.

Then there was the view others around me had. Amanda could see more of my nose hairs than I could. She had a better perspective. She could see the problem.

Similarly, I now know that at least one person in my life knew that something was very wrong with me when I was using. My daughter could see that I had changed. She was scared, and, not long ago, confided in me that she secretly hoped doctors would find a brain tumor. At least that would explain my strange behaviors.

Then there was the depth of the problem. I had no idea Chewbacca had taken up residence in my nose. He was hiding up there so carefully that I failed to see him. Likewise, my addiction went undetected by me for the longest time. I thought my drug use was under my control. I was convinced that if I ever wanted to quit using drugs I could. No worries, I thought, I’ll just stop if and when I want to.

Like pulling hair-covered wax from my nose, I was startled to see just how serious my problem was when I began the process of recovery. I discovered that it ran much deeper than the obvious problem with drugs. Addiction is a condition affecting almost every aspect of life. Working the steps would prove to be the “wax” needed to address the root of addiction.

Narcotics Anonymous has proven to be the “wax” I need to address my addiction. It’s funny, but just like the fact that I was not familiar with waxing nose hairs until I saw that Facebook post, I had never heard of Narcotics Anonymous or recovery until Amanda told me about them. I always thought people just stopped. Or, in more serious cases, went to rehab to find a cure.

She talked so much about her own recovery, and about living by spiritual principles that I was drawn to the program. The life she described attracted me. I saw it working in her life, filling her with the kind of joy I wanted so desperately. Her recovery gave me hope. That hope became faith. Thus began my journey to recovery.

Like waxing my nose hairs, recovery is not a one-time event. There is no cure for addiction. My character defects are still there, just like the cuticles of my nose hairs. Keeping them under control will be an ongoing effort.

My faith in the program of NA is strong today. So strong that I am able to apply the principles of recovery to all areas of my life. It turns out that “Chewbacca” tries to take up residence in all kinds of attitudes and emotions.

I’m thinking of waxing my facial hairs next. After all, if it could do such an effective job in my nose, just think of the possibilities!

Have a remarkable day!

Surrender vs. Giving Up

I once heard a member of Narcotics Anonymous share about some really awful advice they had received from their sponsor. Of course, I only heard one side of the situation, so there may be more to the story. However, if the story was accurately told, the advice represented a real distorted view of surrender.

In simple terms, this member had been the victim of a crime. Something of value had been stolen from her. She knew the perpetrator of the crime, and had called the police to report both the crime and the perpetrator.

When sharing the story with her sponsor, the victim of the crime was apparently chastised for having called the police. It seems the sponsor felt this action was a violation of the spiritual principle of surrender.

This poor lady was so broken-hearted over her loss to begin with. Then, because of a misunderstanding of surrender, she was made to feel even worse. So she sat, sharing about both the hurt she felt over experiencing loss, and the guilt she felt for not having surrendered the matter.

To say I was incensed over the matter is an understatement. The advice this member had received was straight out of the pit of addict thinking and behavior. A “never snitch” mentality and a distortion of spiritual principles.

After the meeting I wanted to say something to this lady, but she was surrounded by friends who were already talking to her. So, I left, feeling confident that they were helping her see the situation more clearly, and easing the pains of guilt.

I think my blood pressure has risen a bit just in the writing of this story. Though I realize that we are all human, and as a sponsor, I am prone to giving bad advice, this little bit of advice seemed beyond irresponsible. It crossed over the line into being harmful.

Surrender does not mean giving up. Surrender does not mean rolling over and playing dead. Surrender does not mean that I am now society’s doormat. Surrender does not mean that I must live my life as a victim.

As a recovering addict, I still face consequences daily for my days of using drugs. Those consequences may haunt me for years to come, and I accept responsibility for those consequences. However, addict living and addict thinking led to those consequences, and have no room in my recovery.

In recovery, the rules have changed. Today when I see a police car, there is no angst or fear. Today, when a crime is committed, I report it to the proper authorities, and doing so does NOT make me a “snitch.” It makes me a responsible, productive member of society.

There is a not-so-fine line between accepting God’s will for my life and simply letting life happen to me. Do I surrender to His will for my life? Yes. Are there times when surrender means that I need to stop fighting and accept consequences? Absolutely. However, my experience is that more often than not, surrender means that I need to seek God’s will and then TAKE ACTION.

Today I refuse to just give up. Though I face pressure on several fronts from those who would like to take advantage of me, or somehow inflict further punishment for my past actions, I won’t play dead. That’s what I did in my days of using drugs. I just let myself be taken advantage of, and felt justified in taking advantage of others.

When God reveals His will in a situation, it almost always requires some kind of action. Today, I will surrender to His will for my life, and take any appropriate action necessary to stay in that will. Today I choose to live a proactive life. Today, though I choose to surrender, I refuse to give up.

Have a remarkable day!

Humility and Celebrity

Yesterday there were headlines about a celebrity who overdosed on heroin. Thankfully, her story does not have to end there. She survived, and was in the hospital recovering.

This is a young lady who, from the world’s perspective, has it all. Fame, fortune, talent, beauty, you name it. Yet, despite all these things, she was almost lost to an overdose.

Now, like so many of us have had to do, she is starting over. She faces a very hard road to recovery. A road which will be made even more difficult because of her fame, and the fact that her life is under the microscope of the media.

I don’t personally know any celebrities who are in recovery. I know they are out there, and I empathize with their struggle. Addiction is, after all, the great equalizer. It does not discriminate. It will be just as at home in the penthouse as in a trap house. It will check in at the Waldorf Astoria, or at the Motel 6.

There are difficulties facing every addict seeking recovery. Whether it is scrutiny from the news media of the pain of homelessness, each of us faces consequences of drug use that will haunt us. These consequences only add to the challenges faced in recovery.

There is good news though. That is the fact that, like the disease of addiction, recovery does not discriminate. Recovery is available to us all. The program of Narcotics Anonymous will work for anyone . The spiritual awakening brought about by the twelve steps can be experienced by any who seek it.

My heart goes out to the young lady in yesterday’s headlines. The emotional pain of relapse is one with which I am all too familiar. Despite that pain, I know that hope is available to her. She is one of the lucky ones. One of those who relapsed, yes; but also one who has has a chance to start fresh. Today, she has a chance to be more than just another statistic.

I am grateful for the bright future I have ahead of me because of the program of Narcotics Anonymous. Today, I have a chance to be more than just a statistic too.

The message of NA is that an addict, any addict, can stop using drugs, lose the desire to use, and find a new way to live. Humility reminds me that I am that “any addict.” I may not “have it all,” but I have recovery, and that is enough.

Have a remarkable day!

Love Works

For almost an hour I’ve been trying to figure out what to write about my spiritual principle of the day, love. Almost half an hour passed before I wrote anything. Then, I spent a half hour writing something that I just deleted. My words just seemed hollow. Inadequate for a topic that is so important.

So, I’m starting over.

Though it was a difficult choice to delete an almost completed message, I knew it was the right thing to do. I’m committed to writing with meaning. Writing something that I can look back on in a year, or two, or even twenty, and see where my heart was. The words I deleted didn’t qualify. So, I’ll invest a little more effort in getting it right.

The old saying “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right” comes to mind. Doing it “right” requires work.

Getting love right requires work. I was reminded of that fact yesterday. My work had taken me to a small town outside Fort Smith, AR. I finished up shortly before noon, and decided to hit a meeting before heading home. I was pleasantly surprised when I sat down to find that a friend of mine was sitting just across from me.

At first I didn’t recognize him. He smiled and extended his hand, so I introduced myself. He chuckled and said “yes Kent, it’s me.” We both laughed, exchanging a good hug, and then the meeting started.

While sharing, my friend spoke of Amanda and me as a couple. He spoke of the changes he had seen in us, and how we had navigated so many challenges to our relationship in such a short period of time. His words were very kind and definitely reflected his love for the two of us.

On my drive home I spent a good deal of time contemplating all that my friend had shared. I thought back over the past couple of years, and all that Amanda and I have been through.

In retrospect, I was able to see just how much work has gone into the past couple of years. The work that we have invested in building a strong loving relationship. The work we continue to invest.

Life is like that. Things worth having usually require work. Most of the time, that work is not seen by others. It reminds me of another cliche. “If it were easy, everyone would do it.”

Love isn’t easy. On the contrary, it is hard work. Seldom do outsiders appreciate the hard work involved in a healthy relationship. Maybe that’s why my friend’s words meant so much yesterday. He demonstrated an appreciation for the work Amanda and I have done.

The same holds true with recovery. Definitely worth having. Definitely not easy. Recovery requires a long-term commitment to hard work. A commitment to weathering storms. A commitment to seeking out a new way to live.

Yesterday was a reminder to me that I cannot take love or recovery for granted. I will continue investing in both regularly, knowing that the results will be worth it.

Have a remarkable day!

Willingness, Anxiety, and Mexican Food

Anxiety comes in many shapes and sizes. I have never really thought of myself as an anxious person, and yet, there is one area of life that traditionally has caused me great anxiety. That area is with regard to plans.

Specifically, once I have formulated a plan, any deviation from it would cause me great angst. Sticking to my plans, my routines, my norms brings me great comfort in life. I’m not just a creature of habit, I’m a “Creature from The Black Lagoon” of habit! I can take routines and habits to a whole new level.

Take Mexican food as an example. My all time favorite Mexican dish is chili relleno. For more than two decades, if I was enjoying dinner at a Mexican restaurant, and it was on the menu, I was ordering my favorite dish.

On the other hand, if by chance it was not a menu item, I would quickly decide that the meal was going to be sub-par. I would muddle through the meal, knowing full well that I would not be returning, no matter how good the meal. By the end, I’d have decided the service was bad, the decor was awful, and the music too loud. Everything about the meal, by the time I was finished running it through the filter of my anxiety, would be wrong.

So it was that for over twenty years, my tastebuds were held hostage by chili relleno. After all, that tasty dish was a part of my plan, my routine, my habit. It brought me comfort and made me feel as though I was somehow in control.

The rigid thinking reflected in my longstanding affair with chili relleno could be found in just about every area of my life. If I’m not careful, I can be one very uptight individual. The slightest deviation from the plans can cause me panic.

Frankly, this anxiety was one of the things that attracted me to drugs. They offered me an escape from the strict routines I had built into my life. The pressure I normally felt to abide by my strict set of rules and regulations lifted whenever I was using. Plans could change without causing the angst to which I had become accustomed.

Yes, I found relief in my addiction. Relief from self-imposed rules for life that were unhealthy and even harmful. Rules that kept me knotted up inside with angst.

Unfortunately, the drugs also resulted in a total disregard for heathy rules and boundaries. The core values I had once held so dear became meaningless. They were no longer the principles that guided my life. Instead, my life became a matter of self-will, and an overpowering desire for more drugs.

Early in my recovery, Amanda often commented on the level of willingness I demonstrated. These comments would shock me, because I was well aware of how stuck in my routines and habits I was. So, her compliments regarding my willingness were hard to accept.

Over time, I have come to see that practicing willingness became my only option once I had given up drugs. The relief from anxiety that drugs had brought could only be found by practicing willingness.

One of the tools I found to help counter anxiety is meditation. For most of my life, I had avoided meditation like the plague. In my mind it represented some kind of new age mumbo-jumbo. Then, at an NA convention, I attended a workshop on meditation. The convention overall had been a bad experience to that point, causing me anxiety. In that workshop, I found relief from the anxiety I had been experiencing all weekend. Relief resulted in willingness.

Before long, I was meditating regularly. I learned to tackle my anxiety with focused breathing and clearing my head of random thoughts. As I did, the strangest thing began to happen. My anxiety dropped. My routine and plans became less essential. I became open to change. Worry and angst could be replaced by serenity.

My battle against anxiety continues. I still can quickly turn mountains into molehills if plans change. However, today I am willing to do something healthy about such feelings. Rather than finding relief in drugs, relief comes from meditation. I find relief in the realization that changes don’t have to all be bad.

Not only am I able to find relief from angst through healthy behaviors, but I have also found my way back to the core values that help me be the person I was intended to be. Escaping life’s challenges, changes, and pains is no longer necessary. Anxiety no longer governs my actions or determines my destiny.

I’ve even begun to branch out in my food choices at Mexican restaurants. Last week I enjoyed an amazing meal at a restaurant in Oklahoma City. Instead of just ordering my usual, I asked my server what he recommended. He pointed me to a stew on the back page. Something with pork and cactus? Sure, I’ll try it. It was amazing.

I’m thankful for my recovery. I’m thankful for the program of Narcotics Anonymous. I’m thankful for the fact that I have found relief from the anxiety that once had me stuck in life’s routines. I’m thankful that today I can embrace change, willing to see what God has in store.

Have a remarkable day!

Hope Happens Here

Today is a very special day for Amanda and me. One year ago, on this date, July 22, 2017, she and I said “I do” to each other. Our wedding took place outdoors at a spot in Tulsa known as the Center of the Universe.

It’s a very special place to us. On Friday nights from early April through late October, an outdoor Narcotics Anonymous meeting takes place there. I suggested that it would be a fitting place for us to exchange our vows. So, a year ago today, despite oppressive heat and humidity, an intimate group of family and friends gathered to celebrate with us.

The Center of the Universe represents hope to me. It is a place where we, as recovering addicts, have an opportunity to be seen by the general public. It’s located in the heart of Tulsa’s party scene. So, as we meet, a multitude of passerby get to see experience, strength, and hope in action.

The spot is on a bridge that has been closed to traffic. Now only open to pedestrians, it is not only popular among those enjoying Tulsa’s nightlife. It is also near other bridges that many of Tulsa’s homeless population call home.

Whether there for the nightlife, or there for shelter, many of these passerby share something in common. Many of them are looking for hope in a bottle, pill, pipe, or syringe.

It happens only occasionally, yet there have been times that a person happens upon that Friday night meeting, stays for a while, and finds real hope. For most of us, however, that meeting serves as a reminder of where we have been, and gives us hope that we don’t ever have to go back. We are reminded of the fact that we never have to use again.

So yes, it was a fitting place for a couple of recovering addicts to exchange vows. As we did, our small wedding party was joined by some curious sightseers. Another part of having a wedding outdoors in a public place… it’s a public event!

From there, we went to the spot where we had our first date. A local McAllister’s restaurant. That was the spot we chose for our wedding reception.

For those who know me, a reception at McAllister’s seems a bit too casual. A bit on the cheap side. I suppose it was. Yet, in my mind, it was the perfect spot. It was at that restaurant where, in the midst of the darkest days of my drug use, I found hope.

The night of our first date, Amanda met me there. We enjoyed each other’s company. I saw a spark in her that attracted me. She had something I desperately needed, serenity. She spoke of recovery, unaware of my need for it. Unaware of my own addiction, for even I didn’t yet know I was an addict.

After dinner, we walked outside, and she announced that she was off to a meeting of Narcotics Anonymous. Before I knew it, she was gone. I stood there in the parking lot wanting more. More time with this incredible person. More laughter. More serenity. More hope.

I knew then that if I was going to see her again, I should plan on attending a meeting with her. Something about the hope I experienced that night left me wanting more. I had no idea where it would lead.

Today, my life is full of hope. The life we share as a couple is full of hope. We experience it daily, regardless of circumstances.

Our first year of marriage has been tough. Consequences of our days of drug use still haunt us. Some of those consequences will stay with us for the rest of our days. However, we do not face them alone. We have each other. We have God. We have family. We have recovery.

We work hard to maintain the hope we have found. Not only do we work on ourselves as individuals through NA, but we also attend counseling, working on us as a couple.

I used to see counseling as something reserved for couples in crisis. Today I know better. Counseling is preventative medicine against crisis, improving the odds that we will have a marriage that is worth celebrating each and every July 22 that is to come.

Hope happens here. Love happens here. Grace happens here. Heartache happens here too. Life will always be full of struggles, but Amanda and I never have to face life’s struggles alone again.

The message of Narcotics Anonymous is that an addict, any addict, can stop using drugs, lose the desire to use, and find a new way to live. When I first entered the rooms of NA, I was seeking a new way to live. I didn’t know what it would look like, but I knew I wanted it.

I’m so grateful that the new way of life I discovered includes Amanda. We celebrate that new way of life today and every day.

Happy Anniversary Babe!

Have a remarkable day!