Perfection

"Progress, not perfection." ~ Al Anonymous

When I wrote this it was a perfect summer morning in St. Louis. I realized at the time this might be as good as it gets on a day in early July. And that was OK. I'll take perfect when I can get it. Perfect doesn't come for a visit very often and certainly not a result of something I do or say.

Perfect, most often, is a gift from Mother Nature, God, the Great Creator, the Universe, or a joint effort of many - a perfect sunset, a perfect morning, a perfect evening out with friends. Perfect comes reluctantly and only to those who have the eyes to see it when it appears. Perfect is definitely not man-made. [There has never been a 27 strike out truly "perfect game" in Major League Baseball.] Perfect in Nature is the Great Creator's acknowledgement of her love for us in sunsets, rainbows and fall colors. Even the perfection required for a moon landing, a rendezvous with an asteroid or a space flight to Pluto is born of the laws of physics, a God gift we've only been able to "see," or glimpse, in the last few centuries.

The Perfect that we so often strive to achieve is what got us here in the first place. It does not allow for bumps in our road, detours along our journey, hedgerows or wide ravines impeding our progress.The pursuit of perfection provokes us to ignore and fix, control and enable, feign bliss and feel despair. These are the dichotomies of being parents of addicted children before we take those first few imperfect steps in our recovery. We've all been there. Throughout our many attempts at perfection we never realize how close to perfection we really are as human beings. This perfection we are closest to is not one that compares us to societal norms or mandates. This is the perfection of what we can be as individuals, our closest pass to our best self actualization, our truest selves.

We are, by being human, by being our truest selves, perfect enough.

When we stumble, it is most often over our own two feet. Once we abandon the bygone notions of perfection, if we can simply let go of our need to be perfect and allow ourselves the freedom to experience the journey of being the best we can possibly be, it is then that beautiful vistas appear before us on our recovery journeys. The pathway levels, the rivers seem less treacherous. Taken one challenge at a time obstacles once thought insurmountable become manageable. We decide those awful events we once thought were sure to happen will no longer hold us back.

We've become nimble expression of our truest selves. We become free, unencumbered by our own former unreasonable thinking. We approach with anticipation the wholeness and ideal of what the Universe offers us, and what it sees in us even if we cannot.

The beauty of it all is that we never attain that thing called perfection. We realize perfection is is the ultimate arrogance that has kept us from growing, from progressing. Instead, now, we are constantly journeying, traveling along our recovery paths, exploring, learning, and yes, failing.

We'll see glimpses of perfection in ourselves. We may even approach the "ideal." We know we've grown when we can laugh at ourselves for the conceit, then move on.

It's certainly a load off! It is freeing letting go of the "P" word. Imagine what we may find along the way.

… keep coming back

"Mistakes are the portals of discovery" ~ James Joyce

Synchronicity

"Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most." ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

"In order to catch the ball, you've got to want to catch the ball." ~ John Cassavetes

"Whatever God has blessed you with, take it with great hands." ~  Horace

I have over the past year chronicled over 200 quotations in my little 8-1/4" x 5" booklets in which I write my first drafts. These quotations have been bestowed upon me in readings, conversations and too many hours spent in front of my wide screen television screen. I am awaiting a long, rainy weekend during which I may be able to digitize, sort and categorize these timeless bits of wisdom, soul searching and humor for ease of access.

Sometimes when I discover a quotation I will use it as inspiration for my writing or just as often, my eyes and mind will wander to the quotes transcribed on the inside and outside back covers of my booklets and just the right quote will appear as if highlighted for the immediate purpose, as if gently beckoning, suggesting, or in some cases, jumping up and down screaming, "Pick me, pick me!"

Most often I find my inspiration is provided if not immediately, eventually, in time. I find the right passage as I always seem to find the right words, when I am meant to receive it.

In her book The Artist's Way and in subsequent articles and interviews, author Julia Cameron describes something she calls "synchronicity." More powerful a force than fate or coincidence, synchronicity is the inevitable positive intervention of the Universe poised to help us along whatever journey for good we embark upon. All we have to do is to show up, believe and accept the nudge, the gentle suggestions, the directional beacons guiding us toward our next best possibilities.

In a July 2012 posting Cameron wrote:

"Learn to accept the possibility that the universe is helping you with what you are doing. Be willing to see the hand of God and accept it as a friend's offer to help."

Imagine my surprise, my stunned awareness, as I realized what was in front of me was meant to be, the three quotations above written one after another in a tablet filled almost a year prior.

Like so much of what we experience as parents of children who have spiraled into addiction, a message was here for the taking, beckoning, a chorus of "pick me!" ringing in my ears.

Sometimes it is so obvious, the messages and signs along the road that we don't often perceive as important. We chalk these up to coincidence, to chance juxtapositions we may even find humorous. We'll often bypass the opportunity of the Great Creator, the gift of the Universe, not because we're not yearning for it, but because we may just not be ready to receive it.

"Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most." 

"In order to catch the ball, you've got to want to catch the ball." 

"Whatever God has blessed you with, take it with great hands." 

These quotations. laid out one after the other were a reminder of what I personally needed that day as I sat down to fill the next few blank pages of my booklet.

Admitting to the fear of the unknown and taking that "new step" allows us to perhaps be humble enough to change, and allow a partner more powerful along for the ride of our lives. With this knowledge, we allow that as fragile human beings who have been through too much already what we are contemplating is a little crazy. We acknowledge and OWN the fear.

So we have owned the fear but are not sure why. We simply know we're no longer beaten by our old foe and can proceed with a determination to push forward. Cassavetes' quote rings true.

When I coached baseball I would tell my fielders to quietly whisper to themselves these words before every pitch:

"Hit the ball to me."

Whether they believed or not, I explained that the mind and body work together. Heady stuff for middle schoolers but the kids who bought into the crazy concept of "wanting" the ball began to field like major leaguers.

We have to want it, the change, the possibilities. We have to want to see that ball and guide it effortlessly into our gloves.

Admitting to the fear and wanting the change are often not enough. When we can look lovingly upon ourselves and realize we have inside of us the strengths and qualities to move along with our lives, to love our children while abandoning the addiction, only then can we really take that first step.

What may seem like accidental is most often nothing short of a miracle - and the miracles are happening every day, all around us.

Dig deep. We have within us gifts from the Universe, a Power to utilize to begin our journey and a Partner to accompany us. The pathway, possibly laid out months, years, decades ago, will appear if we are open to the possibilities. Take it with great, and grateful, hands.

. . .  keep coming back

"Nothing has a stronger influence psychologically on their environment and especially their children than the unlived life of the parent." ~ C.G. Jung

Wanting More - Manifesting A Counterintuitive Existence

"I want some more, Some more and then some." ~ "Tell Me More, And More, And Then Some" by Billy Holliday, Arthur Herzog & Danny Mendelsohn

Recovery for parents who watch as our children struggle with addiction is all about counterintuitivity. We do not seek the contrary for the sake of obstinance, simply to be different or contrary to past life practices. This is no time for knee-jerk reactions, the black/white mentality that keeps us from growing. We do not merely seek the different as a mad alternative to old behaviors. We are seeking more than just the different, the mere exact opposite of how we have traveled prior to beginning our journeys. The different, the opposite, may lead us down familiar pathways, those oft-travelled roads more often taken that society mandates. Obstinance is an angry alternative, a counterproductive pathway.

We are desperately searching for new behaviors and experiences that our learned, and unlearned natures tell us to avoid like a plague.

On our journeys counterinuitivity is not obstinance. We have learned that obstinance, leads to abstinence. We abstain from our feelings, our friends, our children and ourselves. We abstain from life. Obstinance focuses on feelings we do not wish to feel, behaviors we will jettison when we should be focusing on a life previously never experienced that lies directly ahead if we would simply seek it out. We are looking for a positive look at life, we are seeking for what we wish TO do and not, what NOT to do.

Our recovery requires we embark on journeys down roads not travelled, frightful pathways that society, our life mentors and even our "common sense" tell us are ill advised and perilous.

It is time for us to want more for ourselves, more time, more love, laughter, creativity, more peace. For so long we wished for this and more for our children. Then, at a crossroads with the help of countless seen and unseen angels, we began, sometimes covertly, to wish for this "more" to be bestowed upon us as well.

For too long we may have travelled the road with Addiction, mindlessly wandering hand in hand with the disease. To retain its vice grip on our children this is exactly what Addiction requires of us. Addiction craves that willing partner with our children who enables and protects.

Addiction is an occupying army that coerces collaborators to further its endgame. For too long, we have been the collaborators.

It is time we took the fight to the disease in the only way we can. We realize a direct assault is pointless. We can't fix this though God knows we've tried. We cannot control or cure the disease. Truly believing we did not cause the addiction, the first of many epiphanies we encounter along our recovery journeys, we often, incorrectly, think it possible that we could undo what has happened. Our (correct) abandonment of a direct causality between our behavior and the onset of addiction somehow provides a false bravado that we can simply fix this thing if we can only ride it out.

Our heads spinning, we have become our children's worst enemies and Addiction's closest ally.

This is what collaborators do. Collaborators lose themselves and give their lives and souls to the occupiers.

We cease to exist. We lose all self purpose.

It's time to want more, and then some, for ourselves.

Is this counterintuitive enough for you?

The counterintuitivity comes when we become just a little, then a little more, and then some more, selfish, about our needs, wants and dreams. We recapture our souls. We begin to look at our lives in the NOW, the immediate. We begin to live in the moment. We hit a bottom where we become horrified by what we have become. We have too long taken a journey of distractions, detours and back roads counter to our truest selves.

When we begin a new journey borne of self worth and self actualization, living OUR lives and not an existence dictated by the Addiction, amazing things can happen. We become militant champions of ourselves.

We are happy for the first time in a long while. Our horizons expand to possibilities long forgotten during our failed attempts to drive out, then mollify the disease. At first we feel guilty but soon we are witness to astonishing events. Left on its own, the Addiction can lose its grip on our children. Our sons and daughters, seeing us living fulfilled lives are left to face the consequences and anguish of the disease.

We are loving our children and hating the disease. We have no time for the Addiction. We have more time for ourselves. We are no longer collaborators. We are simply loving parents. We know we will be there, present for our children when they are ready.

We witness the miracle of the Addiction loosening its grip on our children. We know the difference between the Addiction loosening and losing its hold of the addicted and understand this is a life-long journey. We understand the Addiction will not go down without a fight yet know we cannot battle it on its own terms. What we can do is slowly destroy the bridges, railways and command posts that had linked our lives to the occupier. We can stop fixing, controlling, enabling and begin living our lives on OUR terms.

Start small, with little baby steps. The path can be dark, rocky and a little scary. It is certainly not a road we're accustomed to. Start by not reacting. Reacting takes us away from ourselves. Listen instead to ourselves and our put-on-hold dreams. Live life, don't obsess about it. Then, we can make this our mantra, our OM:

"I want more, some more and then some."

… keep coming back 

"Go to your bosom, knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know." ~ William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure [II.2.903-904]

Breathe … A Year-End Message

"In the darkest hour the soul is replenished and given strength to continue and endure." ~ H.W. Chosa

Know this. This journey on which we have embarked, is hard.

OK, I said it. We can sugar coat it all we want with uplifting quotations, slogans and aphorisms. While these are all important elements of our motivation, our journeys can get the better of us even with such signposts to guide us.

There are times even when we know our way, the direction to proceed and the pathway to take, we can become despondent about how far we have yet to travel even knowing how far we have come.

There are countless movies where the main characters, lost in the jungle or forest or wherever, see the light at the edge of the darkness and emerge, only to find miles of impassable valleys, gorges or more jungle ahead. We can all feel the desperation. We've all been there.

"When will this journey end?" we wonder. We want an end to the struggle for our hero on the big screen. We wish this for ourselves as well.

It's as if the signpost reads: "PEACE - 100,000 km.

"I thought I accepted that I was beaten by my son's addiction, I've survived the pain of my daughter's disease," are thoughts running through our minds. Once again we are exhausted, down on one knee one hand on the ground, the other steadying ourselves. We attempt to get up. Something tells us to stay down.

It may be time to listen to the gentle Universal voice that is saying, "Your soul needs a rest, traveller. It cannot continue at this pace forever. It is no good for you if your soul is debilitated."

Like a general who must know the limits of the men under his or her command we need to know our own limitations. We need to be able to listen to our bodies, our minds and our souls. What brings us to this point of exhaustion can be a small incident or a myriad of thoughts or occurrences that build over time causing the little cinema in our heads to run overtime with double features of horrors we are sure MUST transpire.

The brink may be reached also by success. Perhaps we ARE doing well, our children seem to be making at least better decisions driven more by their own small voices than the disease within. We've worked hard, harder than we've ever worked to better ourselves. We've progressed along our recovery journeys through hills, valleys, rain forests and wastelands. We are perhaps more self aware than we have ever been. We've travelled the 100,000 km.

Who wouldn't be exhausted?

Now may be the time to stop, make camp, rest and recuperate.

Now is the time to BREATHE.

An angel taught me the 4-7-8 breathing technique that can have the effect of immediately lowering one's heart rate. Inhale deeply from the diaphragm for a full one-thousand one to a one-thousand four count, hold for a similar seven count and exhale slowly for a full one-thousand one to a one-thousand eight count. This cleansing exercise has immediately noticeable results.

Conscious breathing is not something we often do while in the throes of our journeys though it can be. Breathing can take many forms, a vacation, beginning a "habit" of daily walks in the park, trips to museums, meditation, or creating a place to be alone with our thoughts. Breathing can be a passageway to true self actualization. The respite we allow ourselves even when we believe continuation of our journeys is pointless or a cruel taunt from the Universe can be liberating. A short pause for introspection can rejuvenate us and allow us to take those few, small, next steps along our journeys.

We can break camp, refreshed, perhaps with new talents to put in our quiver of tools and resources we are gathering along our way. The immediate talent or tool, is the gift of rest, an occasional "take five" command from that little voice inside that has our best interest in mind.

We will find, in our absence the Great Creator will have kept everything in place. We've not lost any progress or even time. We'll find events have transpired while we've been regenerating that have moved us along our journeys without any action on our part.

Life, for better or for worse, will have gone on without us. And that signpost now reads: PEACE - 10,000 km. We can laugh at our arrogance. We are proved once again to not be in control and by pausing for a bit we find we have been moved, miraculously along by a Power greater than ourselves, a  Gentle Taskmaster always with us through our victories, failures, progress and retreats.

Just Breathe in, let it out, and let it go!

… keep coming back

"Today, when I think about the year ahead, I will focus on the good that is coming."

 ~ Melody Beattie 

Watchers

"The hardest thing in the world as a parent is to let our children be who they are." ~ Al Anonymous

Parents are watchers. We've watched our infant children as they sleep in their cribs, our kindergartners take their first swings in t-ball, our son's trumpet playing in junior high, our daughter's triumphant smiles after a successful dance routine.

Over time we learn to watch, to enjoy, being mere spectators during the hour or so of a soccer match, the two hours spent at a softball or baseball game or the seemingly endless ordeal of grade school strings recitals - or even worse, those dreaded grade school recorder concerts.

An epiphany occurs for parents when we stop coaching from the sidelines, interjecting our wisdom they cannot and do not wish to hear on the field of play. The musical recitals are settings where we have no control. Even the most competitive among us wouldn't dream of rising up during an elementary Holiday program to scream something like, "Sing loud and hit the notes Johnny!" The recitals are basic training for parents who feel the need to inject input into every aspect of their childrens' lives. Ultimately we either learn to sit back and enjoy the joy of the program or stew over all the "imperfections." Even sitting in the stands at sporting events we eventually appreciate our sons' and daughters' struggles on their chosen fields, courts, floors or pools. If we're lucky we see how they learn to figure things out on their own. We see them making their "mistakes," overcoming "failures" such as a loss, a stumble on a balance beam, a strike out or a shot off the crossbar. We take pride in the beauty and audacity of their struggles!

We have become watchers beginning with our infants, weeks into their development. We had no control over the billions of dividing cells, mitosis the Great Creator's coaching input as we stood powerless shouting our daily encouragement, crib side, from the "sidelines."

This encouragement to our infants was simply the love we provided, unconditionally.

When, as parents of addicts, did we forget our training? Certainly there are times to intervene to save a life or to gently guide, but at some point we must get back to what we've learned from years of parenting:

They'll figure it out. They must.

Eventually our children who have spiraled into any addiction will go away. This away place can be a location far from home or in an eggshell-laden household, our children living with us but not really present. We will embark on our recovery journey, we will stop coaching from the sidelines and remembering those years of training, remembering the vision of our babies slumbering in the darkness, we will utter the words we would have never fully believed until they are finally expressed:

"You'll figure it out. You'll be OK."

Once again, we become watchers. We must. It does our children no service to interject our wisdom as they spiral into their chosen addictions. It is no more effective or productive than coaching from the side lines had been.

If we take a step back, Breathe, then Trust that our sons and daughters will find their way, throw in some Hope and Love for ourselves and for them, we will come to the realization that there is life there, somewhere, for  all of us. We can accept our futures lie along separate paths, along totally distinct journeys.

Watchers don't insult. Watchers encourage. Watchers offer gentle honesty. We do NOT interject. - we listen.

Above all, watchers don't go away. We remain available to show our love by bearing witness to goals missed as well as perfectly-hit notes. We allow our children to do for themselves what they can and share the joy in skills mastered after failing for so long.

One day along their journeys our children may thank us for watching. They may even laugh at life's challenges that we allowed them to experience and overcome.

In the meantime keep watching and … 

… keep coming back

"From a distance there is harmony, and it echoes through the land. And it's the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves, it's the heart of every man. It's the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves. This is the song of every man." 

~ "From a Distance" Julie Gold, Composer

The Universe Will Provide (A Christmas Miracle) - A Personal Reflection

"Do you believe in miracles? Yes! ~ Al Michaels at the 1980 Winter Olympics

Our family recently purchased through Craig's List a love seat and sofa to replace an overused set in our downstairs family room. Everyone was looking forward to this including our son who brought me to this journey, as the old furniture would be moved to his apartment. The new set would be a welcome and long anticipated upgrade to our home furnishings.

My wife and our two sons were to pick up the replacement furniture late on an unseasonably warm December Saturday morning. I was scheduled to speak at an early meeting (serendipity!!!!) and afterward, awaited their return at home to assist with moving the old up and out and the new in and down.

The three arrived and the boys did the heavy lifting, bringing the old pieces easily up the steps and angling them out the door, I providing assistance, coaching and foremanship. (I did manage to wrench my lower back during the process which may be a subject metaphor for a future posting.)

The three men began the moving-in process starting with the love seat. I had earlier noted the back piece of the Craig's List furniture was angled a bit more severely than what had been brought upstairs and was relieved when "we" were able to maneuver the smaller of the two pieces through the doorway, then, the immediate clockwise pivot required to transition from the landing down the steps to our family room. It's a tight turn, a mover's nightmare.

The sofa was next, but every effort to angle, turn or pivot this piece of furniture into position to slide down the stairway proved futile. I even sawed off some wooden coat hooks above the landing we were convinced prevented that final move to allow the leviathan free movement. At the point of exhaustion and after an hour of trying we abandoned all attempts to move the unmovable.

We were beaten by an inanimate object, a plush sofa!

We unjammed the sofa, packed it again into my son's work truck that had brought it cross-county to our home not three hours before, brought the love seat back upstairs, gently laid it plush-side down on the sofa and strapped both securely to the truck bed. The overused and outdated furniture was brought back downstairs.

We then decided that the son who brought me to this journey would be the recipient of the new-er sofa/love seat ensemble, his ground-floor apartment being much more receptive to a move. Keeping the furniture in the family seemed like the right thing to do.

It proved to be much more than this on so many levels.

He was ecstatic, our recovery boy, and genuinely grateful.

I admit it took me a few hours to get over the image of $200.00 driving off in a pick up truck to its new home. Before recovery this image would have remained with me for days or even weeks.

The next day my wife told me our youngest mentioned he was happy his brother got the furniture.

"It will make him feel better about himself," he had said.

Tears welled up in love and pride for both my boys.

Later that same day I was able to relate to younger brother how touched I had been by what he had said. I told him I felt the same way but admitted in honesty it may have taken me a while.

At that moment it hit me, one of the miracles of the day.

"You know," I told my boy, "It was meant to be that your brother got the sofa and love seat. We were never supposed to have that downstairs. He was supposed to have that furniture in his apartment all along."

The look on his eyes told me he got it, this message. I stopped there. No talk about the Universe or synchronicity. For once I wouldn't ruin the moment.

The two of us simply embraced the miracle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the gifts of recovery is the ability to feel the miracle when it happens. Miracles are often felt before they are realized or internalized. Miracles are gifts of a warm feeling that surrounds us with an awareness that we are not alone on our journeys, we are not in control and cannot expect to orchestrate our joys and revelations or to even fulfill all our needs.

The second miracle of that day was the gratitude felt by my son who brought me here and a small realization that perhaps there is a presence surrounding him he cannot yet explain. A perplexity entered his soul that only can happen through a new found, if brief, self awareness. Addiction eschews true introspection. Addiction, remember, hates REAL.

We may never know what The Universe has in mind for us and our children who brought us here. Try as we may we cannot force The Good to materialize. Sometimes we have to accept what may seem to be the impossible, and await, patiently, the possible, the possibilities ahead.

Before our recovery how many miracles passed us by? Think of how many situations we forced, coerced,or manipulated as The Universe, God, The Great Creator watched, awaiting our hearts to soften and our eyes to be opened to acceptance, love and peace.

The next time the sofa won't move down the stairway don't waste so much time forcing what will never materialize.

Who knows what The Universe has in mind for us?

… keep coming back

"Miracles happen every day, change your perception of what a miracle is and you'll see them all around you." ~ Jon Bon Jovi

"Miracles are for everyone." ~ Patrick Benjamin

Season's Gratings

As I write this I am looking out our front window on a chilly early December winter-like morning. Though the season is still Fall, the atmosphere is electric. literally, with Winter, our Christmas decorations on display, all of them, in anticipation of gathering together as a family on December 25 morn.

To parents of children in the throes of battling, or not battling addiction, this time of the year is not always so wonderful. The Season brings with it a contradiction of emotions often difficult to endure. Even those who perceive their Higher Power as a Universal presence and may not celebrate the traditional festivals cannot help being sucked into The Season by the ubiquitous holiday music, menorah and advent wreaths, holiday television, red-greeen and the anthropomorphized cloven-hoofed animals with an inexplicable knack for flying. The Season can be hard for us.

[On a personal note, this week marks the 6th anniversary of when we sent our boy who brought me to this journey to the High Desert of Utah for his first treatment, our first attempt at fixing his addiction.]

The joyousness of The Season is tempered by the realization that our babies, whether with us or not, are truly NOT home for the holidays. They are not really present, nor do they wish to be. The addiction will see to that.

The Season brings with it many potential detours from our journeys. Whether we celebrate a birth, or a revolt, temple rededication and a miracle of oil and light, or even avoid any religious connection during this late November through December time, it is the first Season as parents of addicts when we will wander into almost every side path and allow every distraction to divert us from our journeys. It's ok - this first time. It's natural and to be expected. We simply yearn for those holidays when wonder and joy filled our households and anticipation warmed our hearts. The first year, we need to be gentle with ourselves. We may or not be ready to react any differently.

Those side tracts (sic) we wander into are fear, sadness, shame, blame and most dangerous of all, a gloomy expanse called "let's pretend everything is alright," a don't-feel zone of self pity. The Season will tempt us to revert, to go back to old ways. We're just pretending for a while, for a few weeks. Beginning with Thanksgiving through the end of the year The Season poignantly reminds us of everything we've lost.

We wallow in it, the loss, amid the carols, lights, feasting and festing. We are once again pulled into addiction's vortex with our children. We truly believe he will show at family events, that she will wonder at the joys and messages of The Season.

We expect The Season to materialized as if addiction had not taken our children from us.

Each year we emerge from our detours. We are exhausted, the remnants of whatever dark forest, swamp or desert we wandered into cling to us as a reminder of that first misstep that diverted us from our journey.

Each year we learn. The Season remains a difficult time for certain but we eventually learn, somehow, to stay our course, keep our expectations low and love our children while dismissing the addiction.

For us, The Season invites tension, longing and disappointment to our homes. Our children who brought us to this journey may show up late to family gatherings or not show up at all. If he does show, he may not be present. We become prepared for the contrary and negative spin addiction forces upon our children. The addiction will attempt to make her presence during the holidays a contradiction to the joy and love we are bringing to our homes not just during the holidays but throughout the year.

But we learn eventually to not let this happen. We stop reacting. We relish our children's being no matter what form it may take. If they are not physically with us, they are present in our souls and we remember where there is life there is hope. We observe The Season our own way as parents of addicted children, each year improving our observations. We look around, actively distinguishing between what is real and what is blurred by our fear and sadness. Instead of wishing for what once was, we cherish the NOW and anticipate the joy that awaits us when we embark again on our recovery journeys.

The Season with its rushing, hustling and bustling, the last-minute this and that. over scheduling and overindulgence will eventually allow us to sneak away, sit back, BREATHE, observe and recollect what we have accomplished the past year. From Thanksgiving through New Years we are given many opportunities to shut out the maelstrom of The Season and reflect on where our journeys have brought us and anticipate where we are destined to travel.

Like a world-class athlete who can eliminate all distractions to focus on the moment we are able to see only The Good and eliminate the doubt addiction will attempt to bring to our journey. We can accept the sadness of The Season, take it in, then give it up to The Universe, our Higher Power to bear. We will no longer allow The Season to unnecessarily detour us from the progress of our recovery. We come to believe that whatever spiritual pathway we traverse, this truth and an ever-present partner will carry us through The Season.

Season's Greetings to all, and to all a good journey!

… keep coming back

"If you believe in this spirit thing the miracle will happen and you'll want it to happen again tomorrow. … It can happen every day … you've just got to want that feeling. And if you like it, and you want it you'll get greedy for it .. you'll want it every day of your life, and it can happen to you. I believe it now. … It's great. It's a good feeling. It's better than I've felt in a long time. I'm ready. ~ Bill Murray as Frank Cross in "Scrooged"