Faith Goes to The Carnival

Labor Day weekend is upon us. Summer’s last big hurrah is about to begin. This three day weekend has become a four day weekend for Shaun and his classmates, as today has been designated as a day of planning for his teacher and others in our school district.

He has so many plans for today. Nerf gun battles. Time playing with Tiny, his pet hamster. Maybe a trip to the pool before it gets too crowded by neighbors trying to get in one last swim for the season.

Then there are the carnivals. There are several in the area. The one he’s most interested in is down in Henryetta, where his grandparents live. He doesn’t know it yet, but we are going down there one day this weekend. It will be a fun surprise.

Last year that carnival helped send me to urgent care. I rode on a ride with Shaun called “The Zipper.” He was too small to go it alone, so I crammed my body into the little cage with him and away we went. A slight concussion and a few hundred dollars later (my old health insurance was not very good) and I was just fine.

There won’t be any rides on “The Zipper” for Kent this year. I’ve learned my lesson on that one. In fact, if it were totally up to me, we’d skip the carnival altogether. A disdain for carnivals must run in the family. I can remember my dad preferring dental work to going to a carnival. I totally get it now Dad!

I learned my lesson on that one too. Doing things I don’t enjoy, that is. You see, despite his loathing of all things carnival, my parents took John and me to the local Labor Day carnival each year when we were children. The fact is I don’t think my mom liked it any more than Dad did, but she was less vocal about it.

Those memories of the four of us together always stir my emotions. My childhood was truly incredible. So much of it was like something taken off of a Norman Rockwell painting. Of course my parents would probably argue that point, but these are my memories, and I’m choosing to remember them through a Rockwell filter, thank you very much!

Investing time in something that is less than enjoyable is just part of the territory in parenting. It’s a long term investment at that. Attempting to sacrifice a little pleasure today in order to make a child feel loved, or even noticed, is a requirement for parents. A requirement for good parents, that is.

Looking back, I can see many examples of times Mom and Dad sacrificed their own desires or interests for John and me. “Some day it will all have been worth it.” Words that may have never been spoken, but that reflect the faith parents have that their efforts will someday be rewarded.

So, this weekend I get to pay it forward a little bit. I get to take some of the love that Mom and Dad showed John and me so many Labor Day weekends ago, and share it with Shaun.

“Carnivals” are pretty common in recovery. The Narcotics Anonymous program is full of suggestions that require faith. Activities that represent an investment in the future. Things I’d really rather not do, but that are necessary if I want to experience recovery at it best.

It started with something as basic as getting clean. Despite the fact that I knew it was the right thing to do, I found it all too easy to give in to those urges to use when withdrawals would begin. Getting clean and staying clean was a leap of faith. I saw it worked for others, and hoped it could work for me too.

Then came step work. Seriously? You want me to share parts of my life with my sponsor that make me so uncomfortable? I don’t even admit those things to myself, much less to some other guy. In the beginning, step work was like riding “The Zipper” all over again.

Then there is the phone. It weighs so much. You know that, and yet you expect me to pick it up and make calls to my sponsor and other addicts? Come on, anything but that!

As I began applying faith to these and other areas of my life, I began to experience growth. Recovery began to take hold. Staying clean became less of a challenge. Sharing with my sponsor and others became more natural. The phone is even getting lighter.

Demonstrating faith by doing things I may not like to do yields results in every area of my life. It motivates me to push the limits of what I think I am capable of. Sure, there are times I fail. More often than not, however, I find that acting in faith brings positive change to my life, and the lives of those around me.

So, this weekend I will battle Shaun with Nerf guns. I’ll go swimming even if the pool is over-crowded. I’ll even brave the carnival in Henryetta. I’ll do all of these things, hoping that they create some great experiences today, and happy childhood memories for Shaun in the future.

Have a remarkable day!

Faith, Action, and Results

This year’s garden plot has just about run its course. The tomatoes have all but ceased to exist. The strawberries are shriveled and puny from the heat. The only thing really still growing is the peppers. Really though, how many peppers does one family need?

When I was down at my garden over the weekend, I noticed two other garden plots near mine. The first of these belongs to an older neighbor who seems to have a true gift for gardening. Not only are her plants all thriving, with not a single weed in sight, but she also has decorative whirligigs to ward off would-be critters. She has had an impressive crop this season.

Then there is the plot next to mine. I know that the plot has an owner because at the beginning of the season, someone took time to pull all the weeds and till the soil. That was back in April. Since then, nothing has been done to this plot. By now, it is overrun with weeds and spearmint plants (a weed by any other name!)

Now I cannot pretend to know the minds of my neighbors when the gardening season began. I can only speculate as to their plans when they signed up for one of the limited spaces provided by our apartment complex. I do, however, believe it’s reasonable to assume that like me, they were optimistic about the future of their gardens. Perhaps they even had faith that their tables would be brimming with garden fresh produce.

Ah, there’s that word, faith.

Now I’m possibly going to step on some toes here, so be forewarned. First toe crunch: I believe that it is my God’s will that each of our gardens would prosper. That each of us would enjoy a bountiful harvest.

Yet here we are at the end of August, and we have three very different results. Three very different gardens. Three very different amounts of garden fresh produce to enjoy.

Ok, next toe crunch: apparently God’s will was not realized in all three gardens.

All too often I have been told in recovery that “if it’s God’s will, there’s nothing you can do about it anyway.” This statement seems to blend faith with fatalism. If this statement were true, why didn’t the three of us get equal results? Wouldn’t a kind and loving God provide equally for us all?

Your feet may be hurting by now, so this will be my final toe crunch: Faith alone is not enough.

To get the desired outcome, faith requires action. More often than not, God’s will requires my participation. Even more, God makes His will in my life optional. (Oops, was that another toe I heard crunching?)

It’s true though. I can ignore God’s will. No further proof of this fact is required than a quick look at my drug abuse and the behavior that accompanied it. I hate to break it to you, but if you believe that was all God’s will, then you have a really messed up idea of God: a sadistic puppet master who enjoys torment and suffering.

So what application does my tale of three gardens have in recovery? Well, it’s simple. My recovery does require faith. When I sit in a meeting and hear about lives that have been transformed by working steps, living by spiritual principles, and attending meetings, my faith that NA can work for me becomes stronger.

I cannot stop there however. My faith must motivate action. I have to actually follow through by working steps, living by principles, and attending meetings.

Likewise, if I want changes in other areas of my life, action is required. If I want a job, I need to first gain the skills necessary for the job. Then I have to go out and apply for the job. Finally, I’m going to have to work.

Yes I believe it’s God’s will for me to have and keep a job. I do not, however, expect God to just reach down and provide me one with no effort put forth on my part. The same applies to having a healthy marriage, strong friendships, or personal serenity.

My recovery has been a journey of faith. It has also been a journey of hard work and sacrifice. My message today is one of encouragement and hope. Yes, as recovering addicts we can seek God’s will for our lives. We can pursue that will wholeheartedly. We can enjoy living in that will by putting forth the effort required.

When I stopped using drugs I cleared my garden for planting. When I began to practice the principles learned in NA, my planting took place. As I continue to grow in my recovery, the weeds are cleared, plants are pruned, and fruit begins to appear. Only then do I get to enjoy to harvest, a full and meaningful life.

Have a remarkable day!

Honesty and Hospitality

When I was about 13 years old, my family took a vacation to Upstate New York. We were in an area called the Finger Lakes area. It is so named because of a group of lakes that, from above, look like fingers on a hand.

We were your typical tourists in a small town, enjoying small shops and local cuisine. As we were about to pile back into our car, an elderly gentleman approached us. “What part of Indiana are you from?” He had seen our license plate and wanted to know.

My home town is a small place. Most people have never heard of it. So, my dad’s first reply was “Northwest Indiana.”

“Oh, what town.”

“Lowell.”

“I grew up in Lowell!”

Before long, our family was back out on the sidewalk, visiting with the gentleman. I know he knew several folks who still lived in Lowell, but the one who stuck out most was our barber, Babe Tanner. It turned out that the two had grown up together as close friends.

Before we knew it, we were guests in the home of this gentleman and his wife. We visited about Lowell, the man and his wife telling stories from the past, and my parents bringing the couple up to date on what was going on at the time.

I recall the couple inviting our family to spend the night. My brother and I were excited at the prospect. After all, this had been like finding a set of long-lost grandparents. Mom and Dad thanked the couple for their hospitality, but declined, explaining that we were expected in another city the next day.

As we left that couple’s home in that town so far from home, we all felt a sense of peace. There is something about hospitality that puts people at ease. It takes strangers and turns them into friends. Hospitality brings people together, making them feel both welcomed and honored.

Our trip continued. We saw many sights, even Niagara Falls. Yet, if you ever asked me about the thing that stood out most on that trip, I would tell you it was our visit to that couple’s home.

Last night I attended a meeting of Narcotics Anonymous that I had never before attended. There was a uniqueness about the meeting that was new to me. An atmosphere in the room I hadn’t often experienced at NA meetings: a mix of hospitality and lightheartedness!

The meeting chair had done a wonderful job of setting the mood. He greeted each person as they arrived, and there were a lot of them. Over thirty in total.

When I arrived I was greeted warmly, and asked if I was from out of town. More hugs and more small talk before the meeting started made me feel truly welcomed. Truly at home.

I’m in a small college town in Kansas. Another business trip. The meeting topic was the chapter out of the NA Basic Text entitled “Why Are We Here?” Just a few paragraphs were read, and then the floor was opened to discussion.

What a perfect topic for that meeting. People shared about all sorts of reasons why they had come into the rooms of NA, and what keeps motivating them to come back. They shared about their frustrations over relapse. They also shared about victories that were attributable to the changes recovery has brought to their lives.

When my turn to share came, I spoke of my gratitude for the meeting. I was honest about the loneliness of business travel, and how vital meeting attendance is to me, especially when traveling alone.

After the meeting I hung around as a gentleman near my age spoke to me about his new job, one that requires travel. I was able to offer some encouragement to him regarding my experiences with traveling and staying clean.

As I finally pulled away from the meeting place, I experienced a strange yet comfortable feeling. I felt as though I had been a welcomed guest in someone else’s home. I had experienced true hospitality.

It was like being back in that couple’s home so many years ago. I was the wayfaring stranger, taken in by people who truly cared.

Back at my hotel room, I pulled out the meeting list they had given to me. It was covered all over with the phone numbers of men who had been in attendance. As I studied that list, I could remember what each had shared. I grew stronger, even alone in my room, knowing that if I needed someone to talk to, I would find help on that list.

It is appropriate that my principle for today would be honesty. The hospitality I experienced last night made me stop and think. Am I hospitable? Do I make people feel welcome? Do I help set the tone for my encounters with other people?

The answer to these questions is that I’m working on it. Not perfect, but a work in progress.

I’m in the same town again tonight. I’m looking forward to tonight’s meeting. I’ll get there early and visit with my new friends. I’ll also take time to share about how their hospitality affected me.

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. I’m grateful that hospitality is a part of this new way of life. I never have to be alone again.

Have a remarkable day!

Open-Mindedness, an Old Dog, and New Tricks

Last week I was in New York for sales training conducted at my company’s North American headquarters. The training we went through was fast paced and involved a lot of role-playing. Role-play scenarios can be awkward enough, but making things even more challenging was the fact that each of these scenarios was recorded so that we could watch and listen to ourselves. Talk about pressure!

As it turned out, I held two distinct positions in my group of trainees. First, I was the newest employee in the room, having only started my work with the company back in March of this year. Second, I was the oldest member of the class. Again, sort of awkward to be both the newbie and the old dog all at the same time.

On top of these two distinctions, I had, by far, the most experience in sales in the room. My first full-time job in sales began back in 1985 after graduating from college. Since then I have either been selling or managing salespeople my entire career.

All things considered, it would have been natural for me to have arrived at our first day of training with a negative attitude. It is an attitude I had carried into various sales training seminars over that past decade or more of my career.

I would sit through lectures that seemed to drone on for hours, building resentments as the time passed. “Why am I here?” “Are they really going to waste our time with this?” “Just let me get back to selling. After all, I’ve been doing it for years, and doing it successfully at that!” Such thoughts would keep me from gaining much from the experience. They would stifle my personal growth.

Last week’s training was different. As the time approached for the training, I found myself excited by the prospect of learning something new. I was ready to make the most of every moment. Ready to tackle the role playing scenarios and have fun.

The results were nothing short of amazing. This old dog learned several new things, not only about sales, but about myself. Time that had before seemed to stand still was suddenly moving at breakneck speed. When the first day ended I sat in wonder at how quickly the day had gone.

When the class ended, I walked away with new ideas and tools to use in my career. I was excited about getting back out to see see customers and put these new-found skills into practice. I had grown.

The best part of this growth is the fact that I know the source of my attitude. I know why I approached last week differently than past training opportunities. Open-mindedness, a key spiritual principle learned and practiced in recovery, spilled over into last week’s training. My know-it-all attitude had somehow been replaced by a spirit of being open to new ideas.

Yes, last week, recovery spilled out into my career in a way I had never before experienced. Seeing the principle of open-mindedness working so well in my job brought an amazing level of satisfaction.

It’s one thing to see spiritual principles impacting my recovery. To draw strength from them that helps me stay clean. Yes, that is important. Yet I have always maintained that staying clean was, in and of itself, not enough. I need to experience change on a deeper level. I strive, as the twelfth step puts it, “to practice these principles in all my affairs.”

I want to be a new person. Last week, was not the only example of the “new person” I am becoming. There have been others along the way. However, last week’s experience helped me see a change that was obvious.

The changes I am experiencing in life are available to any addict seeking recovery. They are the kind of changes that help make us acceptable, responsible, and productive members of society. For me, they are the changes that help make me a grateful recovering addict.

Have a remarkable day!

Honesty and Coach Corso

My family has a long standing relationship with Indiana University. My parents met at IU. My maternal grandfather earned his law degree at IU. So it was natural that My brother John and I would both attend school there.

As a child, I can remember football weekends spent as a family in Bloomington, Indiana. It was always exciting to see the parking lots around the football stadium fill with fans. With lawn chairs and grills set out, the pre-game festivities would go into full swing. Then there was the actual game. The players, cheerleaders, and the marching band. It was all quite a spectacle.

Dad would buy each of us a hotdog and soft drink for the game. We’d bundle up if the day was cold, begging for hot chocolate after halftime to keep us warm. Dad always gave in on the hot chocolate, even springing for popcorn most times. Great memories indeed.

There was only one problem with attending a football game at IU. The team almost always lost. My alma mater is many things, but “football dynasty” is not one of them. Try as he might, head coach Lee Corso simply could not pull together many victories. So, all of the excitement of attending a college football game would end with less than a bang.

After the game, there would always be a good meal at one of Mom and Dad’s favorite spots in Bloomington. Then perhaps a walk or drive through campus to reminisce about their college days. As the day would wind down, we would settle into our hotel room for a good night’s sleep.

The weekend wasn’t over yet though. On Sunday morning, before check-out time at the hotel, we would gather around the television for the Lee Corso Show. It was coach Corso’s 30-minute recap of the game. The show was always introduced by a local sports reporter with the same exciting words, “It’s time for the Lee Corso Show!”

I’ve never since seen anyone who could make people feel so good about losing a game. Coach Corso’s energy came through the tv screen with all the might of a televangelist! It was as though if all the fans watching would just reach out and touch the tv screen with enough faith, we would believe IU had actually won yesterday’s game. The man was that magnetic!

In fact, Coach Corso’s charisma eventually landed him a job at ESPN. He has been on the air for years, offering color commentary and his special brand of enthusiasm to viewers around the country.

Coach Corso is one of those unique individuals with the gift of lifting people up. His positive attitude is contagious. His smile never fades. These traits have carried an otherwise unremarkable college football coach to a position of fame and glory. He’s one of a kind.

I can learn a lot of lessons from Coach Corso. Despite his enthusiasm and his ever-positive attitude, he didn’t lie to his audience. He never came on his Sunday morning show trying to claim a victory when the team had lost. Rather, he wrapped the truth of defeat in praise for the effort that his team had put forth. Where mistakes were made, he took ownership of them. Where successes were to be found, he extolled them. In that sense, Coach Corso was and is a true leader.

Practicing honesty in recovery is a delicate and precious thing. Honesty with my sponsor is vital. Just as vital is my sponsor’s ability to be honest with me. Yes, honest, but never brutal. Truth never needs to tear someone down. Instead, it should be used to build someone up or to help them grow in their recovery.

This is especially true when it comes to the newcomer or someone who is struggling. The fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous is full of broken and imperfect people. None of us ever gets it completely right.

Unfortunately, the NA fellowship also has its share of bullies. Members who seem to be poised, waiting for someone to use the wrong word or break some rule. Like a schoolyard bully, they pounce on their victims, humiliating them publicly for any perceived infraction.

(If you are a member of NA, and this observation offends you, feel free to call your sponsor. Shoot, feel free to contact me.)

Anyway, such bullying has no place in our fellowship. As an individual trying to practice honesty in my life, I’ll do my best to receive any criticism from others if my actions or words appear to be bullying.

Where honesty is concerned, whether praise or criticism, I strive to always be positive in my dealings with others. I want to be more like Coach Corso, presenting the truth, but doing so in a way that is encouraging and uplifting.

Those who know me best can certainly tell stories of times I have fallen short in this area. Sometimes I’ve been a total jerk where the truth has been concerned.

As it turns out, I’m just as capable of being a bully as the next person. It’s an area of my life that remains a work in progress. Thus, this message is first and foremost a reminder to me. A reminder to practice honesty, but to do so with tact, empathy, and kindness.

Part of the new way of life I have found through NA involves building others up. As an addict, I have more than enough experience tearing myself and others down. It’s time for a change. It’s time for the Lee Corso Show!

Have a remarkable day!

Humility and Shadows

A while back Amanda and I were invited to the birthday party of a friend’s child. The attendees at the party came from a wide variety of family and friends. Situations like that party can be both awkward and entertaining as children play together, and the grownups compete.

Compete?

Yes, compete. Grownups love to compete, especially in social settings. The more adept among these social competitors are subtle in their efforts to establish territory, while others charge in like the proverbial “bull in a China cabinet.”

During this particular party, I was seated between Amanda and a younger woman with whom I was completely unfamiliar. As everyone in the room chit chatted, the majority of her conversations (yes, I was eavesdropping) contained at least one reference to her husband. “He’s a doctor you know…”

I quickly realized that this woman’s identity was very closely associated with her husband’s profession. As she spoke (ok, guilty as charged, more eavesdropping on my part), I began to feel a bit sorry for her. Her personal insecurity became increasingly apparent with each mention of her husband.

After a while I became uncomfortable being near her. The more she demonstrated her insecurities, the more she reminded me of someone near and dear to me. You guessed it, that someone is me.

I can attest to what life is like when living in someone else’s shadow. As the second of two boys, I often found myself living in the shadow of my older brother, John.

My experience playing Little League baseball is a great example of just how deep that shadow ran. John was always a gifted athlete. Not only that, but he also worked hard at honing his skills. In Little League, he played first base. His talents shined in that position.

After he had moved on, I found myself on the same team with the same coach. His name was Floyd. When I joined the team, Floyd assumed that John’s talents must be genetic. So, he positioned me at first base.

In short, I pretty much sucked as at first base, as well as at the other eight positions available. Baseball, it turned out, was not my thing. The experience taught me that trying to ride John’s wave of athletic talent would not take me very far. However, that experience didn’t stop me from jumping on his coat tails in other areas of life.

I did eventually find my groove in life. There were and are things at which I am naturally gifted. Despite these natural gifts, I still have to be on guard against hiding in someone else’s shadow.

It’s a dangerous place for me, being in someone else’s shadow. It is a place where my insecurities become apparent. A place where I begin making comparisons between myself and the person casting that shadow. It’s a place where I find myself saying something along the lines of “I know so-and-so, and they (insert a not so humble brag).

In reality, when I do that, my mind instantly goes to a place where I feel inferior. Inferior to the person with whom I’m speaking and the person I’m bragging about knowing.

In Narcotics Anonymous, there is also a danger of falling into the trap of comparing pedigrees and standing in another person’s shadow. If I’m not careful, I can easily fall into the trap of bragging about what I’ve accomplished in life. Then, catching myself, I try to negate all that boasting with a humble brag. “Oh, but you know, I just have today.”

“Ok Kent, if you just have today, why did you take this meeting hostage by spending the last 15 minutes telling us about everything you did yesterday, the day before, and so on?”

Why? I’ll tell you why. It’s because I’m basically insecure. That’s why!

By practicing humility, I can begin to find relief from those insecurities. Humility allows me to see myself more accurately. It reminds me that I am neither any better nor any worse than the person sitting next to me. Humility affords me the opportunity to see that the person next to me has both victories in life and defeats, just like me.

I used to talk a lot about the things I had before I lost it all to my addiction to drugs. In a meeting this week, it occurred to me that I don’t do that very much any more. Then I realized the reason: I love the life I have today! Finally, I feel comfortable in my own skin. I no longer feel the need to compete or compare. Through working the steps and practicing spiritual principles in all my affairs, I am finding relief.

Relief, not perfection. There are still times that I fall back into those old patterns. Times when I feel either inferior to others or superior to others. Thankfully, those times occur less frequently the longer I’m in recovery.

I am grateful for the program of NA. I am grateful for the process of recovery. Through these I am not only finding a new way to live, but I am also discovering who I am. I’m a recovering addict, who doesn’t play baseball very well, and that’s ok, because I have plenty of time to discover all the things I can do well!

Have a remarkable day!

Honesty and Extra Nights Out

Here’s some honesty: I used to make up excuses to spend extra nights away from home. In my first marriage, life had become so uncomfortable for me that I would spend extra nights away in order to escape. In time, I became an expert in escaping reality, taking any opportunity available to avoid the mess that relationship had become.

Suffice it to say that I managed to get myself into plenty of bad situations at such times. Eventually, I was spending more and more time away from home. Abuse of alcohol, then pills, and eventually harder street drugs punctuated these extra nights away. Along with these came women and infidelity. There is no need to elaborate on more specific details. I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.

In short, my life was a mess. I was a mess. Looking at myself in the mirror became a chore. In the end, almost half of my life was spent in hotels. “Business travel” had become my excuse for getting away so that I could chase that original feeling that getting high had produced. That became all that mattered.

Anyone who has lived the nightmare of drug addiction can attest to how consuming that chase becomes. As I write, it becomes hard for me to believe that I was the one who did all those things. How could I have fallen so far? How did life spin out of control so quickly? What happened to Kent? Where’d Kent go?

The harsh reality is that I was there all along. I was the one doing those things and making those decisions. Sure, there was the issue of physical addiction to drugs, but it went much deeper than that. Kent has a problem, and that problem is named Kent.

This fact only became obvious to me after several attempts to get and stay clean. I’d get thirty or even sixty days clean only to relapse back into the same old behaviors. By thirty days the physical addiction was gone. Yet I was so easily sucked back into that glass pipe or syringe, knowing all too well how devastating the first drug would be not only to me, but to those people in my life who had chosen to love me despite my struggles with drug addiction.

Finally, the honest truth about Kent sunk in to the very core of my being. The drugs were a symptom of a much bigger problem. It was a problem from which I had been running for most of my life. Facing that problem meant that I could no longer blame others for my feelings, not even my ex. I also couldn’t blame the drugs.

No, the time for the blame game had ended. It was time for total honesty. Time to accept that I have a problem that goes much deeper than any of those external things. My problem was the disease of addiction.

At first I didn’t even want to call it a disease. I had spent a lifetime believing that addiction was the result of a lifetime of bad decisions. A lifetime of immortality. How could that be a disease?

Accepting that I suffer from a disease became easier once a friend pointed out that the A.M.A. has defined it as a disease for years. They’ve even assigned a diagnosis number to it. Who am I to argue with a bunch of medical professionals?

Treatment for the disease of addiction is very odd. There is no pill I can take for a cure. That’s probably a good thing. Being an addict, if one pill could cure me, my diseased mind would try to convince me that two or even five would cure me even more!

No, there is no cure. However, there is recovery.

It begins with simple abstinence. I choose not to use and mood changing or mind altering drugs, just for today. On top of that, I work the twelve steps of Narcotics Anonymous. These steps are designed to help me identify the things in my life that drive my addiction. The character defects that make living in my own skin a daily challenge.

Along with the steps come spiritual principles. These principles help guide me through life. They help me redefine who I am. Living according to these principles make staying clean possible. They even make looking at myself in the mirror feel comfortable.

Last night I missed my flight back home. My training ran long, and New York City traffic helped turn a one-hour trip into over two hours. I had just entered the airport terminal in time to hear them page my name over the intercom. (I hope that wasn’t my 15 minutes of fame!)

So, another unexpected night away. Another hotel room.

Yet, as I write, I have a feeling of satisfaction. Knowing that I’d rather be home makes me feel accomplished. Knowing that I turned down that unlimited free beer and wine at the hotel’s “Diamond Member” reception, opting for bottled water instead, shows me that progress has been made.

In fact, I was in bed and asleep by 9:00 last night. Today, I’ll have to travel through St. Louis and then Dallas before I got there, but I will got home. The best part is, I can’t wait to get there!

Babe, I’m coming home!

Have a remarkable day!

Acceptance and Remodeling

I’m once again sitting in the lobby of my hotel writing this morning. After a little coffee entered my system I noticed a change in here.

This hotel has recently undergone a complete renovation. Guest rooms have been completely updated with new everything. Same with the lobby, where new flooring and furnishings have helped make this older hotel feel young again.

I had not really noticed, but the one thing that hadn’t been updated is the woodwork. The entire lobby is finished in beautiful woodwork. Yes, it’s beautiful, but also dated, giving the otherwise modern decor a distinct 90’s look.

So, in an apparent effort to update the woodwork’s look, a stain has been applied to a small area of the woodwork. I can tell from what has been done thus far that the change is going to be a very labor-intensive project. It will be hard work, but necessary if the hotel wants to survive.

The work of attracting business travelers requires a never ending effort to make guests feel at home. As a seasoned business traveler, I can well attest to to the fact that we are a group of people who are both spoiled and self-sacrificing at the same time. Willing to spend many nights a year away from home, family, and friends; yet expecting hotels to make us feel pampered.

So, hotels are in a constant scramble to attract our business, and the seemingly never ending stream of money from our expense accounts. Competition is fierce. Updates are inevitable.

Sure, the hotel owners could go the cheap route. They could avoid changes and modernization. They could allow the hotel property to go downhill, and eventually lose its brand. Over time, it would fall apart, rates would fall, and value would be lost.

Over the past couple of years, my life has been under renovation like this hotel. Stopping my use of drugs was only the beginning. It was like evicting an unruly hotel guest, making a modest improvement, but it was only the beginning. That “unruly guest” in my life was the obvious thing wrong with me.

By stopping my use of drugs I took care of the most glaring issue in my life. However, I needed to take a much closer look at my “hotel,” my life. The twelve steps allowed the renovations to begin in earnest. Some character defects in my life have been obvious. Like lumpy mattresses or frayed carpet in a hotel guest room, these defects obviously require my attention.

Others, though, are more subtle. Like all this woodwork in the hotel lobby, some of the changes I need in my life are not immediately apparent. Take my defect of people-pleasing for example. On the outside, this defect can present itself as an appealing, even positive personality trait. Yet left unchecked, people-pleasing begins to affect all areas of decision-making in my life. Motives become jaded, leading me down the path that leads to manipulating people. Leading to addict behavior.

So, in recovery, my life requires close scrutiny. I must look closely at all such defects. It is that ongoing scrutiny that gives my recovery power. The power to change me from the inside out.

Like a hotel, one round of updates will never be enough. Vigilance will be required to make these updates in my life effective. As I continue working the steps, I will likely uncover other areas of my life that require updating. I’ll discover “woodwork” in my life that looks just fine, but is holding me back. Keeping me in the past. Stunting my growth.

By the time I come back to this hotel, all of this woodwork will most likely be changed. I may not even notice the change. I certainly won’t see all the hard work that went into the changes.

Not long after this renovation is complete, there will be more updates at this hotel. They will never cease.

The same holds true for me. When one round of steps is completed, I will begin my next round. Then another, and another. The process will never end.

Just as renovations are just a part of the hotel business, steps are part of the recovery process. When I consider the changes the steps have made thus far, I am happy to make the ongoing investment in myself. That investment is leading me to a new way of life. A life that is not only free from the influence of drugs, but one that is guided by spiritual principles.

Have a remarkable day!

Self-Discipline and The Snooze Button

Whoever invented the snooze button on alarm clocks should either be shot or given a medal. I’m never really sure which would be more appropriate.

Last night, as I settled into bed, I set my alarm for 5:07. Yes, it’s an odd time, but I’ve found that I wake up more easily at an odd hour. My theory is that my brain sees the relatively odd time and begins thinking right away. Whatever the reason, I typically respond to my alarm by getting up.

This morning was different. Today’s 5:07 is more like 4:07 because I’m in New York. So the time difference is still catching up with me. So, when the alarm sounded, I quickly hit that bright red button and rolled back over.

So, at 5:16 my alarm sounded again. This time I rolled out of bed. Said a quick prayer, and came down to the lobby of my hotel to begin my morning routine. No big deal, right?

The problem is that I know myself. Hitting that snooze button once can quickly become two, three, or even more times. I am a person who cannot successfully use a snooze button. For me, it is like a drug, where “one is too many, and a thousand never enough.”

That is where self-discipline comes in. I have managed to discipline myself to get out of bed on that first alarm. It’s easier at home, because getting up means I am not waking Amanda too early. It means quiet time on my beloved balcony. It means truly good coffee.

Yes, there are all sorts of benefits to be found in rising when the alarm sounds.

When on the road, those benefits are significantly lessened. Waking Amanda is not an issue. There is no balcony here. The coffee is ok, but nothing special. So, self-discipline becomes even more important when I travel.

My snooze button serves as a handy metaphor for staying clean in recovery. When it comes to mood changing and mind altering drugs, one truly is too many. A thousand truly will never be enough. Hitting life’s “snooze button” for me, a recovering drug addict, can be a deadly act.

Avoiding the “snooze button” that drugs represent becomes easier as I practice spiritual principles. Practicing self-discipline allows me the opportunity to live out my recovery in a tangible way wherever I go. Whether at home or on the road, self-discipline helps me stay focused on recovery, and keeps my mind right.

As my day begins, I am thankful for the ability to practice self-discipline. Today, I don’t need a “snooze-button” to face my life. When the alarm sounds, I’m equipped to jump up and…

Have a remarkable day!

Open-Mindedness and Slacks

I have a business trip coming up in a couple of weeks for which I need some navy color slacks. So, over this past weekend, we went shopping for a pair or two.

When I saw the retail price my jaw dropped. We were at Old Navy, a store known for reasonably priced clothing. So, I naively thought I would be able to pick something up for around $20 a pair.

Nope, the price was double what I had expected. Then there was the issue of finding my size. None were to be found. So, we left the store empty handed.

I decided that I would just shop at my favorite store in the coming weeks to find some navy slacks. What is my favorite clothing store you ask? It’s Goodwill. That’s right, my favorite store for men’s clothing is America’s largest supplier of hand-me-down clothing.

There, the most I ever pay for a pair of slacks is $6. My closet is full of slacks, shorts, jeans, and shirts from Goodwill.

Any time I think about Kent in a Goodwill store I chuckle. You see, not too many years ago I would have been embarrassed to have been found shopping there. After all, what would people think? What about my reputation? My image? My pride?

I think I was truly hooked on Goodwill the day I found a pristine Brooks Brothers shirt at a Goodwill store for $3.50. It was an Oxford dress shirt that would have retailed for $150! I’m no math wizard, but that was a savings of like a bazillion dollars!

Suddenly my mind was changed where Goodwill stores are concerned. Reputation, image, and even pride could all take a backseat to fine men’s clothing at low low prices!

Today, I’m not sure my car is able to pass by one of these stores without veering off the road and into the parking lot. My purchases are not limited to clothing either. Nowadays I find all kinds of treasures there. Need a pie dish, go to Goodwill. Paper shredder? Chances are that Goodwill will have one. Don’t even get me started on fine china!

Sometimes I will think about all the money I could have saved if I had started shopping at Goodwill sooner. It’s odd, because today I can afford to shop wherever I want. There were times, though, when money was much tighter, and I could have really benefited from all the savings.

Oh well, no sense in dwelling on the past. I can’t change it anyway. No amount of wishing would bring back all that money spent at retail.

My experience with Narcotics Anonymous is similar to my experience with Goodwill. The signs of my addiction were present years ago. First, it was alcohol. My inability to moderate it’s use was an early sign of things to come. Then the pills came, followed by even harder street drugs. My disease progressed, and I did nothing about it.

I didn’t look for a solution. After all, why should I? It was everyone else who had a problem. Besides, what would being associated with a twelve-step program do to my image, reputation, and pride? No way, not for me thank you.

Thankfully my path did eventually lead me to the rooms of NA. Like my long-held biases against shopping at Goodwill, it took some open-mindedness to give the NA program a chance. Had it not been for Amanda’s enthusiasm for recovery, I would likely never have even considered it.

As recovering addicts, we often speak of that “gift of desperation” that brought us into the rooms. For me, that gift came when I was willing to set aside pride, image, and reputation.

At first it was like it had been walking into Goodwill early on. I’d look around to see that no one who knew me was around before quickly sneaking inside. Over time, however, I have grown comfortable with NA. I arrive at meetings, ready to visit with friends and greet newcomers. I feel at home at meetings, and appreciate the diversity of our fellowship.

Practicing open-mindedness toward Goodwill has saved me tons of money over the past few years.

Practicing open-mindedness toward NA has saved my life!

Have a remarkable day!