Be the Second Grader

"Consider the second graders, how they perceive the world." ~ St. Matthew 6:28 (sort of)

My day job often takes me to school districts to consult with teachers and staff, and I am often placed in rooms in full view of the procession of children, mostly of the K through 12 category. Over the years I find the most endearing to be the second grader. No matter what the time of day, the time of year or what earth-shattering events are transpiring around them - to which they are typically oblivious - these elementarians plod down the hallways looking around at the walls and other surroundings in wonder, as if they are seeing it all for the first time.

Mind you, the decorations on the hallway walls or on tables or shelves to display 3D dioramas do not change daily or even sometimes weekly.

The second grader's world is one where everything is new, full of wonder and possibility, all the time.

As I sit in the room assigned to me I am always reminded to pause, breathe, and be just a little more like the second grader each day.

Adults tend to see the same damn thing every day. When in traffic, we only see the traffic. When walking to the mailbox we only see the myopic tunnel-vision view of the walk from our front door to the curb. Even when we walk a nature trail we often pay attention only to our footing, never taking the time to stop, look around and wonder at the wonders of The Great Creator.

We're missing so much.

It's time to be a little more like the second grader. When we see the world with an inquisitive mind we become recipients of all The Universe has laid out for us if only we are open to the possibilities the second grader seeks every minute of every day.

Remember the constant, repeated "Why?" of the child. That was when The Universe was asking US to open OUR minds. Did we discount this or enter the world of the young, unspoiled mind? It's a gentle place, a place where our hearts open as wide as our eyes.

Our children who have lost this innocence to the pull of The Addiction must see in our eyes, minds and hearts the glimmers of hope of the second grader. It's a way we can model a better life for them as we continue on the pathway to our best selves.

. . . keep coming back

"There is no enlightenment outside of daily life." ~  Thich Nhat Hanh

Owning Our Well Being

"Ego says, "Once everything falls into place, I'll feel peace." Spirit says, "Find your peace, and then everything will fall into place." ~ Marianne Williamson

We are, all of us, on different paths on our recovery journeys, at different stages of recovery as parents of addicts and addicts in recovery. It can seem as if we are taking one step forward and two steps back as we attempt to reclaim our lives from The Addiction and on good days, one step forward and one or maybe a half step back.

Then there are those days - we have felt them even though it can be hard to admit - where forward progress toward the next beautiful life vista is measured not in steps but in leaps and bounds.

It is then we realize we have become gently militant about our well being.

We know how in the past we confronted attacks on our well being. We reacted. We attempted to play The Addiction's game of kill or be killed, and lost. We lashed out at our sons and daughters who were so deep in the vortex with The Addiction they had little or no empathy for the effects of their behaviors on the world around them.

We dug in our heals to fight the beast.

At some point we gave ourselves a Dr. Phil talkin' to:

"How's that workin' for ya?, we asked ourselves.

And thus began the incredible journey of our recovery to living our lives, to hating The Addiction while loving and keeping a close eye on our addicts. We reclaimed responsibility for our own lives, understood that in the words of AlAnon that "we didn't cause it, can't cure it and can't control it".

Yes, that first one (cause) is a tough one NOT to own, but it can make all the difference if we truly understand that until we sever the guilt bonds of The Addiction nothing positive will happen in our lives. Relinquishing ownership for the disease of addiction and making the leap of faith to take ownership of our own lives - which is the converse to the futile attempt of fixing others - we can eventually realize there are vistas and adventures out there The Universe is daring us to experience.

We will know the transformation has begun when lashing out at our children is replaced by a loving silence, when we respond to the predictable bullshit spewed out by The Addiction not with anger or even agreement, but by gentle, thoughtful responses.  Our transformation becomes near complete when we meet the ATTACKS on our souls by The Addiction with love in our hearts for our children, a silent prayer, or a compassionate reminder to our addicts and those in recovery that nobody, especially the parent who loves them, should be spoken to in that way.

We stop fanning the flames of The Addiction's insatiable need for confrontation and isolation. Our children may become weary of the fight, the constant estrangement from everything and everyone they used to hold dear - or they may not.

The hope is one day, they come to us and say:

"I can't live like this anymore."

In our hearts we might say, "No Shit!", but keep this to ourselves and simply say, "What can I do?"

By owning our well being, becoming militant about exploring what futures The Universe is ready to bestow upon us we prepare for the lives we were meant to live and begin the preparation for when our children are ready to do the same.

It's a long, hard, bumpy road but worth every stumble, every misstep, every bruise, scrape and gash along the way.

We will look back on our journey of transformation to well being, at the scars borne of the struggles we have endured and realize something very simple:

"I did it!"

. . . keep coming back

"Scared and sacred are spelled with the same letters. Awful proceeds from the same root word as awesome. Terrify and terrific. Every negative experience holds the seed of transformation." ~ Alan Cohen

Cha-Cha-Cha Changes

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is awaiting us. ... The old skin has to be shed before the new one is to come." ~ Joseph Campbell

We've crossed over the annual threshold again, the out with the old and in with the new time of year accompanied by resolutions, temporarily overcrowded health clubs and the seasonal plethora of ads for diet strategies and home fitness equipment. Unfortunately, the resolutions will typically come and go, the crowds will thin at the health clubs by March, diets will be abandoned for what is comfortable and familiar (i.e.; fat) and the Nordic Trak®,  Total Gym®  and other machines Santa brought will soon become convenient hangers for clothing not destined for the dryer.

Resolutions lost are a result of a less-than-resolute commitment to change. Resolutions kept and maintained require a sense from within that we don't wish to live like this anymore, whatever this happens to be. We need to want to stop living the lie of saying we want to change. The realization goes beyond change and becomes a transformational experience.

True change happens when we incorporate into our lives as many little life differences as we can that can lead us slowly, methodically and determined, along the path to an ultimate change we may not even see coming. Many of us have attempted change as if preparing for a road trip from Manhattan to Los Angeles without filling our gas tank. What we don't realize is we have to pack, lock the doors, kennel our pets, stopthemailshutoffthegasnotifyrelativesmaptheroute and do the million other little things that will allow us to get from point A to point B.

We become frustrated when change doesn't happen overnight. We have underestimated the long, strange journey that change requires.

We get as far as Allentown, or maybe Columbus Ohio, then turn back.

When we experience true change, those closest to us notice before we do, although we have a sense that something is different about ourselves. The stairs are easier to climb, our blood pressure lowers, life starts to come gently our way rather than us constantly fighting what is ahead. People we don't know react differently to us, we react differently to them.

We say things like, "It's good to see you," to perfect (and even imperfect) strangers and watch as they react with delight to your unexpected greeting.

We embrace and voraciously take in the world rather than reacting to it.

And soon we find ourselves, not so suddenly - it's been a long pilgrimage - in Los Angeles, or perhaps somewhere else, somewhere unexpected.

And we'll ask ourselves, "How did I get here?" and realize it doesn't really matter.

We have been transformed.

. . . keep coming back

"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for something you are not." ~ Andre' Gide

"The Jews taught me this great word - schmuck. I was a schmuck. Now I'm not. ~ Bill Murray as Frank Cross, Scrooged

Steps

"A knowledge of the path cannot be substituted for putting one foot in front of the other," ~ M. C. Richards

If you have ever seen a toddler walk it's easy to see what the action actually entails. Moving from one place to another is simply an act of falling forward and catching oneself with one's lead foot. The toddler walk is the reveal that makes it clear that the "where am I going" is less important than the knowledge that the pursuit of simply continuing to move forward is what is critical.  The toddler doesn't care where he or she is going although they may act like the goal is to stumble into the parent's arms. This is a ruse. We're actually an impediment to the toddler's wish to keep moving at all costs.

The toddler just wants to get there, wherever there is. The joy is in the journey, not the destination, especially since to the toddler there is no destination, just the delight of the progression forward. They WILL stumble. They WILL fall.

And that's where the magic begins. Unless alerted to the danger of falling by overly concerned adults the toddler simply picks herself up and without wondering what the hell just happened to make the floor or Earth come crashing up to their arms, continues on.

We can learn a lot from the toddler. As a grandparent I watched one evening as our granddaughter  continuously walked from our living room to our kitchen and each ... time, stumbled over the small rise in the hard wood floor from the one room to the other. This actually happened the entire evening we were watching her. She would fall, get up, each ... time, and continue on her way. It was both hilarious (she never whimpered) and a lesson to us all.

Keep moving.

Many of the self-help programs that abound for addiction recovery and support for those impacted by addiction talk about steps. You never hear about 12-Destination programs. The point is to continue on, to persevere, to soldier on even if the end game is not in sight or even comprehended. The journey is the thing, the joy of discovery of what ourselves can be if we are only open to the glories of the the unknowns.

The toddler knows this. Everything is new. Everything is there for the taking. Marathoners understand this as well. Yes, we know the final destination, yet every race is different, each with its own challenges, surprises, frustrations and triumphs.

The journey is the thing, and that IS the magic of our continuing exploration of who it is we really are as parents, as human beings. The Addiction may lead us to believe we should be all in for its agenda. It wants us to think we shouldn't stumble and fall, that any shortfall in our travels is a failure, an I told you so moment proving we have no business looking for the next adventure, the vista we never thought attainable.

Like the toddler we can continue on after stumbling, dust ourselves off - or better yet, leave the dust, the muck, the grime on as a reminder that life, the journey, must go on even after the failures. Strong in the knowledge we love our children unconditionally and are ready to step in when THEY are ready, we can keep moving along our journey pathways to the joys The Universe has placed ahead for us.

If we channel our inner toddler our journey becomes new with each step, each slight forward fall. Pick yourself up and go!

. . . keep coming back

"As long as I was falling forward and getting up to fall again, I wouldn't come in last in the race against myself." ~ Ultra Runner, 2018

Holding it Together By Finding Gratitude

"Anyone can give up - it is the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone around you would expect you to fall apart, now that is true strength." ~ Chris Bradford, The Way of the Sword

Our national day of thanks is upon us although you wouldn't know it. I defy any advertiser - that isn't a vendor of turkeys and such - to develop a campaign around Thanksgiving instead of leapfrogging the mythic Pilgrim tribute to rocket us directly into the other holidays of Christmas and Hanukkah (with apologies to those who celebrate Saturnalia, Solstice and Festivus, etc.). How many of us have seen the eye rolls at the Thanksgiving table if we would have the audacity to ask everyone to state just ... one ... thing they are thankful for. It's as if gratitude is something that has been lost in our culture.

Or do we all feel unworthy of being thankful?

Parents of addicts and addicts in recovery understandably find it hard to seek the joyous vistas that might be over the horizon if we would just take those few extra steps along the pathway of our parental recovery. There is so much shit and other barriers in our way we can come to believe there is no way out of the muck, the negativity and darkness in which The Addiction would like us to dwell indefinitely. Our children have found that place and reluctantly remain, joyless, seemingly incapable of finding any gratitude or sense of thankfulness in their lives.

But in order to hold it together in our lives, our workplace and for the other family members who are watching where we are on our life journeys we MUST find the gratitude and know there are things to be thankful for. Sometimes we have to dig deep, even if simply acknowledging a blue sky after a long stretch of rainfall. We can find thanks even in the darkness - where there's life there's hope is an Al-Anon slogan that has kept me grateful in times of personal despair.

I've written before to put in writing three daily gratitudes, even if they seem inconsequential - "beauty all around", "Friday" and the names of family members are frequent flyers in my little gratitude notebook.

Finding gratitude and thankfulness is a natural way to keep moving, to continue our journey to fulfillment, to saying "No!" to The Addiction while loving our children with our hearts, minds and souls. It is our quickest path to a life that may now seem foreign and unattainable, but the life we know we can achieve that will show our children they too are worthy of the same.

Take that first step. Be grateful for what you have right now. Hey, it's the weekend after all - that's one! Write it down.

Happy Thanksgiving.

. . .  keep coming back

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is awaiting us. ... The old skin has to be shed before the new one is to come." ~ Joseph Campbell

Connected

"The leg bone's connected to the - knee bone; The knee bone's connected to the - thigh bone; The thigh bone's connected to the - hip bone. ~ "Dem Bones," James Weldon Johnson

Stay with me on this one...

When I first started training for half marathons, then for the marathon, my body greeted me to many of the requisite injuries concomitant with running long distances: runner's knee, hip soreness, ankle twinges. The ankle tweak came about on the opposite side from where my first injury had erupted, my right leg runner's knee - also know as the dreaded floating patella.

This is when I was introduced to the wonders of the iliotibial band, a lovely fibrous ligament that (in layman's terms) extends from the butt to just below the knee, holding everything at each end and in between together, albeit tenuously.

I would joke to my fellow runners, "I guess the hip bone IS connected to the knee bone," incorrectly paraphrasing "Dem Bones".

I've come to realize in my short but oh so joyous half and marathon running career that everything in our bodies is related, connected and must work together for a successful run on race day. Mind, body and spirit must come together, muscles ligaments, tendons, internal organs - ewwww!, must work in harmony, any negativity that pops into one's mind may appear but must be quickly purged, and the calculations of how many miles,  hours or minutes remain to the finish, the glorious end game of race day, have to give way to remaining in the moment, taking every mile as it comes and relishing in the exhilaration of accomplishing what few can.

Marathoners and half marathoners are a positive subset of our population, yet we fully understand the daunting task ahead when we embark on each training session. Whether 13.1 or 26.2 miles, or the challenge of the 50 or 100 mile races (I am definitely happy to not have to go there - but maybe someday...?) so much can happen between the inaugural training run and race day. Even each training day, each track workout, each ping in the knee, twinge or tweak in the ankle, hip or hammy must be taken at face value. There can be no looking beyond. Each successful run builds on the next, each failed run is a lesson learned and a caution you are not Superman, you're no Wonder Woman, pull back, rest, listen to your body, "YOU'LL BE FINE, GIVE IT TIME."

For a runner patience is not a virtue or an option, it is requisite. And this has all become oh so clear this year as I resume my running schedule after cervical vertebrate and carpal tunnel surgeries. I'm not quite starting over, but I have been provided with a very humbling "Back To Running" schedule by my Fleet Feet Running Club coaches  - 30 minutes max for the next 4 weeks increasing the run to walk minute ratio until the fourth week when I will be running 30 minutes without a walk interval.

As I mentioned, this is humbling, but exactly what is needed, what I NEEDED.

Runners rely on each other. We share in each others successes and relate to and support each other during our times of failure. Runners are raving optimists. I've written about the marathon training kickoff meetings where the air is electric with anticipation. The newbies who have never crossed the 26.2 mile finish line actually think they can do it. And they will!  The community of runners is a positive and joyous force to be reckoned with and I firmly believe training with a group of runners greatly increases the possibility of success while for some odd reason decreasing the risk of injury. Did I mention community?

So what does all this have to do with our journey as parents of addicts? Apart from simply substituting the words parents of addicts or parents of addicts in recovery for the word runners, there are almost endless parallels between our journeys. There are a lot of us out there. We can choose to know we have power over The Addiction if we simply acknowledge we cannot do this on our own.

We are all connected. Even if we don't know each other there is that connection we can find whether or not we consciously reach out for help, through personal counseling or the myriad of groups built to walk parents down the pathway to our own recovery. Simply making that decision to say "ENOUGH!" to The Addiction is enough to connect us as parents affected by the disease.

We must find the positive in our lives as we navigate the tightrope of loving our sons and daughters while hating The Addiction that has, hopefully temporarily, taken over their lives. This is never an easy endeavor. We'll have our good days and bad days. Our spirits WILL become injured. We can listen to our hearts and our souls, find the gentle spaces that remain even after Addiction's oh-so-personal attacks on our psyches, rest, recover, and move on along our recovery pathways. We can find other parents with whom we can laugh, cry and collectively despair over the battles won and lost. Through these connections we can heal. We can become that positive force to be reckoned with who have that raving optimism our children will, with our love and by their own devices, actually beat The Addiction, rendering it irrelevant. We can keep our positivity in the moment, not obsessing about what has passed or what might be, but relishing the little victories and taking a pause to learn from the failures. Know this, the task of our recovery may seem daunting, but it IS doable. It's a marathon, not a sprint, with long periods (plural) of training, but we can all make it to the finish which in the case of parents of addicts can lead to more vistas and joyous experiences.

One big difference? The subset of the population who have or have had a loved one dive into the rabbit hole of the disease of addiction is much larger than the .1% of the population who have completed a marathon. Remember, over half the people you will see in any public place have been directly touched by addiction. You are only alone if you wish to be.

Did I mention community?

. . . keep coming back

"I am a part of all that I have met." ~ Lord Tennyson

The Fable of the White Room

"Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you." ~ Rumi 

The last thing he could remember is a struggle, a long struggle, then saying, "NO!" as loud as he could as he fought off the adversary.

"Have I died?" he wondered.

"Am I dead"?

"Is this heaven"?

"Or hell"?

With much difficulty he tried to look to his left and saw only a white nothingness. His movements were clearly restricted, but he could sense no shackles, bindings, fetters or ropes confining him. He felt as though he was wrapped in some sort of invisible cloak or sheathe. Perhaps this was a cruel joke played on him by one of many enemies encountered over countless travels. Or perhaps this was the result of his pursuit of something, anything different from the life he had been living - a punishment of sorts, or just a sign his body mind and soul had given up, failed, expired.

"Perhaps I am not dead," he thought. "But perhaps I am dying."

As he struggled to look to his right he perceived his most recent foe, slain, next to him, motionless and prone.

"What the hell is going on?" he thought.

When he had said the single word sparked by endless battles against countless opponents that seemed to constantly confront him, that word, "NO!" pulsed beyond the confines of his personal arena, dispatching the beast and delivering him to this place. This single word precipitated a transformative experience, instantly conveying both him and his latest antagonist to this ... place ... whatever this place is.

"Where the hell am I?"

He had grown tired of the constant struggle, the never-ending and pointless battles. He had come to believe this behavior had become part of his go-to lifestyle, an easy continuation of a life he had never asked for but had no idea how to depart from. He would ask himself if continuing the pursuit of a life in which he constantly got in his own way was a result of fear of an unknown beyond the familiar, or simply laziness. Was he too stupid to break free? Was he not good enough?

"Stop it," he thought. "Purge these thoughts from your mind!"

As he lay, motionless, still unable to move, he realized for the first time in his memory he considered fighting the negativity that had consumed him for so long. He had for too long embraced the negativity, a blanket of consistency that had dictated his every thought, action and reaction. It was a shroud that shielded him from something.

"But shielding me from what?"

This internal conversation made him wonder if he was losing his mind. He shook his head in effort to achieve some clarity and noticed his encumbrance still encasing him, but loosening.

"Fascinating."

His thoughts then turned for the first time to what had been before, before the turn of events, before his dive deep into what had ultimately led to a life of nothingness, with no landscapes, colors, tastes or textures - the life had led to this place, white, soundless, with no depth, neither a positive, nor negative. His former life of nothingness had been replete with experiences he couldn't clearly recall, things acquired, yet now gone, friends ...

"Friends," he tried to envision friends, anyone, he could consider held close and cherished. There was no one - nobody there even in the remnants of his deepest recollections.

"But I feel, something," he thought. "For the first time in a long, long time I feel. I don't know what I feel. But it is ... there."

It was then he felt it, the tear, progressing slowly down his cheek.

"I was something, before", he thought. "I was good at it too, I think. ... I had friends, a life, purpose. I had ... parents, who loved me."

He could feel his restraints loosening, his hands releasing from the invisible bindings, his legs now free, his head no longer seemingly pinned to the floor, or whatever he was lying on in the nothingness. He rose and painfully lifted his body to a standing position. It seemed like eons since he had been able to stand with no purpose but to simply be, standing. There was no foe to vanquish, no insatiable need to fulfill for an unknown reason. The thought of being overjoyed by something so simple made him laugh, out loud, another experience that seemed foreign to him.

He began to explore his new world, the nothingness. walking thorough it.  Yet, was he moving, making progress? With no point of reference he had no idea if he was a man in motion or still bound, without the bindings, a prisoner of his past tendencies.

"I have no direction here in this white void. I might as well be on a treadmill."

It was then, seemingly off in the distance he could see arms and hands reaching out through the colorlessness. He had seen these before, in the prior, the before time. Every time he had gone to reach out he could feel one adversary after another pull him, back, back into the void of nothingness, replete with experiences he couldn't clearly recall, things acquired, yet now gone, friends ...

"No one..."

As he continued, walking, "Am I even moving? he did seem to be ever closer to the arms and hands reaching out. This had happened before, he had approached the invitation, the love, but would feel nothing. He could feel it now. The adversaries had never let him feel the goodness, the unselfishness. He grasped the hands reaching into his void. Deep inside him he could hear the words:

"This is up to you now. This is your choice. Your path will be neither easy nor impassable. You will only succeed if you simply get out of your own way..."

"The voice stopped with his words - his own words. How did the voice know this? Was this another ruse of his antagonists? Who could he trust?" 

He still held the hands. the grasp loosening. He fell to his knees, he was fingertip to fingertip yet could still feel something, different. He arose and he, he was the one reaching out, seizing, seeking, restoring his connection to this goodness, this love he could feel but not quite understand, pulling him into something new, something different yet familiar from another time.

With as much passion as when he shouted his defiant "NO!",  he declared, "I WILL follow you. I will trust, even though I do not under..."

. . . keep coming back

"Not all those who wander are lost." ~ J. R. R. Tolkien