Courage Down Memory Lane

The last day of both a year and a decade makes for an appropriate day of reflection. I’d like to think that it’s the perfect day on which to draw courage as my spiritual principle of the day. It allows me the opportunity to reflect on how courage has affected me over the past ten years, and project how necessary it will be in the coming decade.

Past Acts of Courage

• Facing facts – this has been the decade during which I finally faced facts about how the disease of addiction has influenced my life. I knew as early as my college days that I had a problem with substance abuse. Back then it was just alcohol. “Just,” as though that isn’t deadly enough. Yet it took decades for me to admit my problem, and do something about it. Sadly, during those decades, a great deal of harm was caused to people I love.
• Mental Health – I don’t know when it began. All I know is that at some point in life, I stopped using substances in an effort to boost my confidence, and began using them to self-medicate. Unfortunately, as my tolerance to my medicine grew, I needed to consume more and stronger forms of drugs. In time, all the drugs in the world would not take away the depression I was experiencing. A suicide attempt was my most desperate attempt to fix depression on my own. Only after that failed did I finally seek actual help through medicine designed to treat depression, and therapy to help work through some of my feelings and emotions.
• Healthy Relationships – never would I have imagined that a commitment to healthy relationships would require so much courage. Yet, healthy relationships require boundaries, and I had been so bad at setting healthy boundaries in the past. Boundaries that would not only keep the wrong people out of my life, but also boundaries that would help me place limits on what I would be willing to tolerate in a relationship.
• Making Amends – I had said “I’m sorry” so many times that it surely sounded like a broken record. During the waning years of this decade, I summoned the courage to go beyond the “I’m sorry” of the past, and do my best to make amends. Admitting I was wrong, and striving to correct my behavior brought new and unexpected freedom to my life. Yet, there were and are, those to whom I’ve not been given the chance to make amends. In such cases, I apply even more courage, as I strive to live a better life today. It involves letting go of the shame associated with my time in active addiction, and the harm I brought to others.
• Living Recovery – all too often, I see people walk away from recovery. They either opt for a life of continued drug abuse, or they decide that simply being abstinent from certain drugs is good enough. There is part of me that wishes I could just walk away from recovery. Stop going to meetings. Stop applying the twelve steps and spiritual principles to my life. Shoot, maybe even enjoy an occasional glass of wine with a meal. It takes courage to make recovery a part of each and every day. To admit that I am not in control, and that I never will be.
• God’s Will – seeking knowledge of God’s will for my life, and the power to carry it out takes daily courage. The courage to put my plans aside, and go wherever He leads. Whether it’s in the area of my career, personal finances, or relationships, living according to God’s will has taken courage to a whole new level.

I could go on forever. So many changes in my life. So much courage required. The important thing is not what requires courage, but rather, the Source of that courage. The recovery process has allowed me to tap into the Source of courage, God.

If the past decade had brought me nothing but an actual relationship with God, that would have been enough. However, His plan held so much more for me. A life not of guilt and shame, but of freedom and hope.

The Coming Decade

What will the coming decade require? From where I sit this morning, the coming decade will be like a shampoo bottle. You know, the one that says “lather, rinse, repeat.” If I have any hope for the coming years, it will be found in the lessons I’ve learned. I will continue to face life on life’s terms. I’ll guard my mental, spiritual, and physical health. I’ll be courageous enough to seek the knowledge of God’s will for my life, and the power to carry it out.

Have a remarkable day!

Willingness to See Past Our Differences

What could I possibly learn from him?

Oh man, how many times have I asked myself that question in recovery. It is easy to look around the room at a meeting and ask myself how on earth this group of recovering addicts could possibly contribute something to my recovery.

Just look at them Kent. They are all so different.

Such thoughts, if left unchecked, quickly lead to feelings of isolation. If I’m not careful, I find myself tuning people out. Writing them off before they even speak a single word. After all, what could I possibly have in common with someone who has spent many years in prison? Or with that person who, up until recently, lived under a bridge?

Though these questions may be valid, perhaps the most important question comes when I turn things in the opposite direction.

What could I possibly have to offer them?

That is the real question. After all, nowhere in the twelve steps does it tell me that I am supposed to take anything from other recovering addicts. On the contrary, the twelfth step tells me that I am supposed to share the recovery message with others.

What could I possibly have to offer them?

The answer lies in my willingness. When I share, I need to be willing to share openly and honestly about how drug abuse destroyed the beauty in my life, and how recovery has restored that beauty. By focusing on these things, my story will become relevant. It will take on life in the hearts of those with whom I share.

Anther amazing thing happens as I do this. My heart becomes open to hearing the message of recovery from others. Suddenly, I not only relate to the struggles faced by others during their times of active addiction, but I also grow strength as they share the hope they have found in recovery.

What do we have to offer each other?

The answer is simple. We have our experience, strength, and hope to give each other. We have a new way of life that comes from living out the twelve steps, and applying spiritual principles to our lives.

Today, I will practice willingness by sharing my experience, strength, and hope with others. I will also practice it by allowing others to build into my life and recovery.

Have a remarkable day!

Integrity and Framed Houses

Years ago, I lived in a new neighborhood in Wisconsin. Homes were popping up all around us, as builders constructed homes in hopes that buyers would come.

Down the street from us, one such home began construction, getting all the way to having been framed. Even the plywood for the roof had been installed. Then, nothing.

Weeks turned into months, and that partially constructed home just sat. The wood, exposed to the elements as it was, turned from its healthy looking pale yellow color to a musty gray. It was definitely the scourge of the neighborhood.

Then, one day after months of sitting, workers once again began the process of building. Before long, the home appeared on the outside to be just as beautiful as any other on our street.

All that weathered, perhaps even moldy wood had been covered with siding and shingles. Ready for an unsuspecting buyer to come along and snatch it up.

I won’t claim for even a moment to know much about construction. Yet, something tells me that the condition of that wood when it was finally covered, was less than optimal. It seems likely that at some point, that home, built around a weathered and beaten up frame, must have experienced some problems.

The thing is, the builder never took time to work on the condition of all that exposed wood. Instead, insulation, tar-paper, siding, shingles, and drywall simply covered over any rot that had begun.

Doesn’t sound like a home I would want to buy, that’s for sure.

When I first realized that I am an addict, I wanted to treat my addiction like that builder treated that house in Wisconsin. My plan was simple. I would check in to a detox facility for a few days, allow the fog of drugs to lift, and get on with my life. Surely if I just stopped using, everything would be ok, right?

Nobody would even have to know about my problem. I could just cover it over. A little siding, and some drywall and I’d be just fine. Ready to get on with life. No one would ever know.

I’m grateful that I had people in my life who cared enough about me to not allow me to live in that delusional state for very long. I didn’t just need detox, I needed inpatient treatment. Not only that, but I needed to go beyond simply getting clean.

I needed recovery.

The process of recovery is a strange thing. It is really not concerned with outward appearances. In recovery, the siding and shingles of my life don’t matter. It’s what’s on the inside, beneath all that pretty exterior that counts. What does the frame of Kent’s life look like? Is it even ready for any siding or shingles?

The recovery process has added, and continues to add, a lot of strength to my life. It has gone so far beyond simply getting clean. Recovery addresses my frame. It looks at those things about me that made me want to escape into active addiction in the first place.

In time, personal integrity was built back into my life. It has become the framework on which to build a life that is productive and filled with joy. All that allows me to live a life free from drugs. More importantly, it allows me to live a life free from the desire to use.

Like a house, the work of recovery will never be finished. Occasionally pipes my leak, roofs will need replacing, fresh paint will be necessary. As long as the frame of my recovery is fortified with integrity, this work will be easy to justify. I’ll want to protect the investment I’ve made with continual maintenance, and the occasional overhaul.

Today, I will practice integrity, remembering that it has become the framework of my recovery. I will protect it from things that would threaten it.

Have a remarkable day!

Love

I just noticed something cool about the old oak tree in our back yard. Our fickle Oklahoma weather has given me a chance to be outside this late December morning, and so I’ve been enjoying the view from our back porch as I’ve meditated on the spiritual principle of love.

That tree caught my attention because of the “V” formed by its two distinct trunks. Apparently, it is the result of two separate trees that sprouted up so close that they simply grew into one.

The interesting thing I noticed is that the branches from either fork grow out, away from the center of the two trees that have become one. There are some huge branches growing from both sides, yet always growing in a way that cannot harm the other.

By contrast, there are three large pine trees on the opposite side of the yard. Those things are growing as though in competition. The branches of one shooting out in the direction of the next. As a result, the middle pine tree is somewhat stunted. It is destined to live in the shadows of the other two.

That oak tree is a great illustration of how true love works in our lives. Where there is love, there is healthy growth. People can grow and become strong together. Competition between the two is removed. In the process, each person’s love for the other gives that person room to grow without the need for distance to form between the two.

Today, that is how I will practice love. I’ll stay close to the people I love, while at the same time, allowing them to grow into the people they are meant to be. I’ll avoid being like the pine tree, trying to dominate the lives of those around me.

Have a remarkable day!

Humility, Death, and Drama

Ok, ok… I know it’s wrong. Shoot, I may even catch a little hell for having the audacity to admit such a thing.

There is one statement often made by recovering addicts that causes my eyes to roll almost out of their sockets (see, I’m guilty of being dramatic too!). It’s when an addict is sharing in a meeting and they talk about the number of times they have died.

“Oh, in my active addiction, I died seventeen times.” It can be any number of times. Just fill in the blank. The FACT is that you never died. The fact that you are sharing this story in a recovery meeting is proof positive that you DID NOT DIE.

Of course it would be different if you were recounting the story to your buddies in heaven, or Valhalla, or wherever you believe eternity has in store for you. Oh, Lord help us if our local meeting clubhouse is heaven. If it is, I need to seriously reassess my life and beliefs! That place doesn’t even have hot water!

Anyway, such experiences are not deaths. They are, in their most severe form, near death experiences. If such things are truly death, then I’ve died a bunch of times. I mean at least three times on the operating table when my heart stopped beating and the surgeon calmly asked me to cough so it would restart.

Add to that at least another five times in hospital ERs when I’ve been experiencing episodes of SVT. The remedy for which is a dose of medicine that stops the heart momentarily.

Both of these are highly unpleasant, I assure you. Yet, if they constitute death, then this old cat has used up the better part of his nine lives!

So, what is my point here? Why drone on about claims of previous deaths? What’s the big deal Kent?

Well, it has to do with the practice of humility, and the role it plays in establishing my credibility. Drama, in any form, tends to erode my credibility. Humility, on the other hand, helps establish credibility.

Credibility is vital in the process of one addict helping another. Credibility makes my story believable, and thus, relatable. To the discerning newcomer, hearing someone share how many times they have “died” will send their BS-o-meter surging into the red zone.

“Oh, those folks are full of sh*t!”

Next thing you know, that newcomer has mentally checked off recovery as something for oddballs and lunatics. The same holds true as we attempt to find our place in society. Such stories tend only to point to a life that is still slightly out of control, and out of touch with reality.

Good luck scoring a job operating heavy equipment after sharing a bunch of overly dramatized information with a potential employer. It’s not going to happen. Or, if you do get the job, you better be on constant look-out for your co-workers. Chances are they are some crazy folks!

The point of all this is to say that part of practicing humility is learning to remove the drama from my past. With drama added, memories of my times in active addiction quickly take on a bit of glamour.

Remove the drama, and along with it, all glamour fades. I am able to see those days for just how bad they were. I am also able to see how fortunate I am to have survived many situations in which I found myself.

There was no glamour in standing on that dark, deserted corner in East St. Louis at 2:00 a.m. No, that, my friends, was pure insanity. Yet, if I allow a little drama to be sprinkled on it, suddenly my diseased thinking tries to tell me how cool and daring I was.

No thanks, I’ll stick with the insanity plea on that one!

Today, I will practice humility by eliminating drama from my life. I’ll remember to stick to the facts, and do my best to see my times in active addiction for just how sad, lonely, and miserable they were. Even the good times I had, and I did have a few, were punctuated by the knowledge that I was trapped in what seemed an endless cycle of gloom.

Doing so will help me to see just how great life today is in contrast. It will make my recovery story believable to others, and even more importantly, to myself.

Have a remarkable day!

Faith on the Couch

Yesterday, our little family enjoyed a really good Christmas. Our day was very full. Full of family, food, and most of all, full of love.

Just one year ago, I’d have told you that yesterday’s celebration would never be possible. As is the case with so many addicts, addiction had damaged those family relationships, seemingly beyond repair.

All of us, under one roof? On Christmas Day??? Humbug!

Yet, there it was. The laughter, the joy… the love. A true Christmas miracle.

So, last night, as we headed to bed, Amanda asked me what my favorite part of the day had been. I answered with the last event of the day. The three of us were home. Amanda was in bed still trying to recover from a cold that’s had her down. Shaun and I were on our couch. He was lying down watching cartoons, as I sat there reading.

Before long, he had fallen asleep. His young body and mind had had enough of the day. As I looked, I knew that he was at peace. He was at home.

In that moment, I knew that faith had done its work in my life.

Like most recovering addicts, both Amanda and I had wreckage from our past that needed cleaning when we first met. Clearing that wreckage was not easy, and nothing could make it an overnight project. It would only come through hard work and time.

The main work was to be done on ourselves. The recovery process needed time to work in our lives. We needed to grow into people who would be ready for days like yesterday. As much as we might have wanted them to, such changes do not happen all at once. Recovery is a process.

Part of me wishes I could report that these changes are complete. That our lives are perfect and without challenge. However, such a state would eliminate the need for faith in my life. A condition that would once again have me living completely in self-will, with no need or concern for God and His will in my life.

So, no, our lives are not perfect. There are still relationships in need of healing. There are still scars from time spent using drugs that need to heal. Not to mention the ongoing process of recovery that must continue so that we no longer feel the need to escape back into drugs.

Last night’s experience on our living room couch did not mark the pinnacle of my recovery journey. It merely served as a reminder that by faith, we do recover. By faith, recovery will continue.

Have a remarkable day!

Forgiveness in The Manger

It’s Christmas morning! Merry Christmas!!!

If today is about anything at all, it is about forgiveness. After all, according to the Christmas story, that is the entire reason for that child to be born in a manger in the town of Bethlehem.

There are gifts to be opened. Pictures to be taken of all us is in our matching buffalo check pajamas (even the dogs have buffalo check for today). Food waiting to be prepared.

So many things demanding my attention. Thus, I have only a brief thought on the topic of forgiveness.

I believe God has forgiven me for my past. One of the things that assures me of this fact is that He gives me spiritual principles to apply to my life today. As I practice those principles, I find that my life becomes progressively better.

Today, I will do my best to express gratitude for forgiveness by celebrating Christmas with family and friends. I will accept that I have been forgiven, and that I am worthy of good things, and positive relationships.

Have a remarkable day!

Compassion Meets Naughty and Nice

It happens every year sometime around late November or early December. Children young and old begin to think about these lists. The naughty list, and the nice list take center stage in our thoughts.

As a young child, I lived out most of my days without regard for the list. Somehow, once Christmas had passed, all concern for making Santa’s nice list quickly faded. I simple settled in to life as usual. The old he knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake thing went by the wayside.

Once again I was antagonizing my brother, John at home. At school, I picked right back up with teasing classmates. Sneaking extra cookies from our cookie jar became a part of daily life again too. (I can still hear the telltale sound of its lid being lowered after grabbing a handful of Mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies.)

Naughty list? Who cares? I’ll worry about that next Christmas.

Then, before we knew it, cold weather would come back around, and with it, my concern about that naughty list. I would think about the year I had lived since the last Christmas holiday. I’d wrack my brain, trying to recall any misdeeds from the past months that might land me in the wrong list.

Better get some good deeds under my belt before I go see Santa with my list of demands… um, I mean, my wish list.

And so would begin my rush to do good and be good before Christmas Day. Whatever it took to secure my spot on the nice list. Even if it meant being a little less antagonistic toward John!

Then one day it happened. The discovery that pulled the rug right out from under that whole naughty and nice routine. Not only was there no naughty or nice list, there was no jolly old man keeping track. My deeds, neither good nor bad, had not been recorded.

It was all up to Mom and Dad.

Now there’s a realization that could strike fear in the heart of a little boy. Mom and Dad? But they’ve seen it all. All the teasing, antagonizing, and cookie thievery was obvious to them. Yet, somehow I had still managed to make the nice list all those times.

What the…???

Where there is compassion, there is no naughty or nice list. Compassion, after all, is not conditional. The compassion I received from Mom and Dad was not based on what I did. It was based on who they were. My spot on that imaginary nice list was not based on my efforts. It was based on their love.

I do my best to practice compassion in that same way. When presented with an opportunity to practice compassion, I don’t look at what someone has or hasn’t done. Instead, I try to look at myself, and determine what I am able to do, based solely on the person I am.

Whether expressed to a loved one or a stranger, practicing compassion reflects on the condition of my spirit. Not that of another.

No, I don’t practice it perfectly. I’m still very much a work in progress where compassion is concerned.

In active addiction, life became all about the naughty and nice lists. It seemed like everything boiled down to a quid pro quo. My ability to be nice centered largely on what the people in my life had to offer.

I don’t have to live like that today. Instead, I am learning to be more like my parents were when I was struggling to get on Santa’s nice list. I can practice compassion, and demonstrate love without regard to someone’s actions.

Have a remarkable day!

Practicing compassion does not make me a push-over. Compassion still requires discernment. There will be times when compassion is expressed through healthy boundaries. Just as there were times when my mom would call me out for swiping extra cookies, I need to be willing to show compassion at times by enforcing boundaries.

Faith

Gift wrapping has become a whole lot easier these days. I’m not entirely sure when it first appeared on the market, but with the advent of the gift bag, wrapping those oddly shaped packages became a snap.

That pair of bulky socks fits nicely into a tiny little gift bag. So does that obligatory pack of underwear Amanda bought me.

Last night, as I was wrapping gifts, I ran out of gift bags a little too soon. I had a couple of oddly shaped gifts left to wrap, yet no bags in which to put them. So, I stacked them with the pile of boxes set aside for wrapping the old fashioned way.

I did pretty well with the first of these gifts. The package was both square enough and rigid enough to make gift wrapping it pretty easy. The last thing I needed to wrap was not so fortunate. About all I can say is that the gift is covered in paper. Nothing particularly fancy or neat looking.

Most likely, anyone looking at our tree would hardly even notice. To the untrained eye, it would blend in nicely with all the other gifts.

However, to me this final gift stands out a little too much. It is the first one I saw this morning when I sat down with my coffee. Something that has me wondering if I should buy another gift bag especially for it.

No, I’ll leave it be. After all, the goal is not perfection. The goal is to be thoughtful with the gifts that have been purchased.

I’d love to be able to sit here and write that everything in my life is perfect. That recovery has removed all of the pain and strife that one so often experiences in active addiction. Yes, that would be so nice.

It would also be a lie.

My life in recovery is a lot like this Christmas tree. It is beautiful in so many ways. From lights, to ornaments, to gifts set at its feet, the tree is truly incredible.

Yet, there is still that oddly wrapped gift. Likewise, there is a cluster of ornaments that are too close together. Even a place where its branches are clumped together too closely.

In fact, if I sit here long enough, intent on finding imperfections, soon I could write an exhaustive list that could threaten to rob me of my holiday cheer. I could Grinch-up Christmas in no time if I focused on the negatives.

Instead, I’ll stay focused on the positives. Sure, those imperfections are there, but I don’t have to let them rob me of the joy that is all around them.

So it is with my life. I still face the sadness that comes from facing the consequences of my drug abuse. Like the imperfections around our tree, this fallout could steel all of my joy if I were to let it.

By faith, I can live with both the joy I have found in recovery, and the painful consequences of my past. No, it’s not easy. So many reminders surround me during the holidays. Reminders which, like the oddly shaped gift under the tree, seem to distract me all too easily.

However, as I practice faith in my life, I can accept that pain and realize that it does not need to be permanent. My life has been blessed by so many miracles. Events that remind me that hope remains. Today, I choose to thrive in the beauty that recovery has brought into my life. I’ll also allow faith to have its place in my day, and allow it to work for my future.

Have a remarkable day!

Acceptance in Tiny Sips

I was like a fish out of water. A college friend was getting married, and I had been asked to stand with him as one of his groomsmen. No big deal, right?

Well, no big deal except for the fact that my friend lived in one of the wealthiest suburbs of the Chicagoland area. His wedding was going to be an amazing blowout event. Everything was to be just so.

On the day before the ceremony, a party was held for the young couple at the home of a family friend. That was my first indication that I was out of my league. I pulled up in my car, to find that our hosts had arranged for valet parking for their guests.

Wait, what? Valet parking at someone’s house? Is that even a thing?

Once inside, I was offered a drink. Open bar… what’ll you have? Well, I was practicing abstinence (not recovery mind you, that wouldn’t come until decades later), so I asked for a virgin Bloody Mary. Meaning the mix with no alcohol.

When my drink arrived, it looked so fancy. Served in a tall crystal glass with a stalk of celery coming out the top. Along with a cocktail napkin embossed with the names of the bride and groom.

Fancy, right?

That’s when things went so very wrong. My first sip almost killed me. It was so damn hot. My eyes instantly began to water. Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead and on the back of my neck.

My beautiful drink was killing me, but what to do? I was too embarrassed to say anything? Too scared to complain. So, I did what any timid young fool might do. I continued to take tiny sips of my drink, all the while making small talk, and acting as though nothing were out of place.

About 30 minutes into my sipping experience, the party’s hostess approached me with a horrified look on her face. When she saw how much of my drink had been consumed, her expression grew even more concerned.

Kent, there’s been a mix-up at the bar. Please give me that drink. I’ll get you a fresh one.

She went on to explain that the caterer had made a mistake in preparation for the gathering. Instead of bringing a bottle of Bloody Mary mix, they had brought a jug of another product made by the same brand. As it turned out, I had been sipping straight Tabasco Sauce!

Practicing acceptance can be a very tricky thing. When I was using drugs in my days of active addiction, I was forced to practice a lot of acceptance. For instance, I had to accept the that I was getting what I had paid for. Even when it was obvious that I’d been slighted by the dealer.

Sure, I could make a fuss, but that might lead to conflict. Better just to move on, and learn that this was someone never to be trusted again.

There was also acceptance of the fact that life was happening all around me. Yet, because of my addiction, I was only a partial participant at best. I no longer fit in with the life I had once known. Nor did I really ever fit in with those who were using drugs with me.

I was once again, a fish out of water. It was like sipping that glass of Tabasco Sauce 24/7. All I could do was to hold on tight, and hope I avoided detection.

Learning to practice acceptance in recovery is something altogether different. In recovery, I do have to learn to accept certain things. For instance, I have to accept the fact that I can never use drugs successfully. I must accept that my condition is incurable, and that something in the neuro-pathways of my brain responds differently to drugs than in those of “normal” folks.

These parts of practicing acceptance are fairly obvious. The response is straightforward. Abstain from drugs, and apply steps and spiritual principles to life so I can counter those character defects that make me want to escape into the oblivion they offer.

Then, though, comes the more difficult practice of acceptance. This is where so many seem to get it wrong. (Yes, I’m judging others here, but there is nothing wrong with learning what not to do from the example of others!). All too often I will hear a recovering addict say something like “well, I just have to accept it.”

Whether it’s a job they hate, a friend or family member who regularly mistreats them, or living in a neighborhood where there are too many drugs and other negative influences. The “I just have to accept it” anthem becomes the cop-out for doing nothing.

Like me years ago, sweating profusely as I drank that Tabasco Sauce, I see people either too afraid, or just plain unwilling to accept that what they need is change!

No, I’m not immune from this sort of misapplication of acceptance. I still find myself sipping Tabasco on occasion. Putting up with something in life rather than taking a stand. However, recovery is helping me to change that.

This form of acceptance can be difficult. Making positive changes still requires change, and I am no fan of it. There have been plenty of situations where I’ve just kept on sipping Tabasco, and acting as though nothing is wrong.

However, today, by practicing acceptance, I am able to see that sometimes change is what I must accept. Even when change is uncomfortable, a little acceptance will make it possible.

Have a remarkable day!