Limericks for St. Paddy's Day

"Next time somebody complains that you have made a mistake, tell him that may be a good thing. Because without imperfection neither you nor I would exist." ~ From Into the Universe by Stephen Hawking, 2010

When I think of what I tried to do
I realized that I had no clue
Now I know the Addiction
Is my son's affliction
And is not on my path to pursue

The mistakes that I made were not rare
And it's not because I didn't care
When you're blinded by fear
You know nothing is clear
But I have my own crosses to bear

A son and his father are one
It's a bond that cannot be undone
But it is no wonder
When it's torn asunder
The split's a non-permanent one

When I was confronted with pain
I fought it again and again
Once I acquiesced,
I can now attest,
My life was no longer a strain

Synchronicity is quite a word
A belief in unknowns is absurd
Though The Universe' aim
Might not always be plain
To seek it is always preferred

The boy was locked in his chains
The girl was in constant constraints
One day they decided
and miraculously Guided
Chose divinely a life more humane

A confident soul can subdue
The buildup of drug residue
Give it time you will see
You will all soon agree
That our children WILL find their own TRUE!

. . . keep coming back

"When you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done." ~ Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go

The Fable of the Dark Place

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing; Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ..." ~ Edgar Allen Poe, "The Raven"

He had been here before, the dark place, a cold, dank, chilled to the bones isolation.

"Had this become his forever existence, his human condition until his flame burns out?" he thought to himself. "A flame would be nice right about now," he mused.

He shuddered at his attempt to downplay the gravity of his current situation. This might be it. This might be the point of no return. Yes, he had been here before, but never had he felt the same resignation to this as a life to just ... accept.

For months it had seemed he had been crawling down a slime-covered descent, a slight negative slope leading him to more darkness. To where he was uncertain. There was no comfort in this trajectory. There was no improvement in the condition. The darkness seemed to become darker, if that were possible, the slime enveloping his clothing, his face, hands and consciousness as if to assimilate him.

"Am I becoming the darkness?" he asked himself.

But the downhill was easy. Uphill would be hard. Uphill would take effort, a decision.

He could only feel his surroundings. As he progressed he perceived his habitat widening and for the first time in what seemed eons he could actually lift his head above the muck, He reached above to discern if the cave was widening when he felt the weight of his upper body pulled down by gravity, plummeting him to an even deeper darkness.

Then, there was nothing.

He awoke to find he was able to sit up and actually stretch his legs, back and arms alleviating years of cramping and unending stiffness in his joints and extremities. He was in a chamber. But how deep, how wide, and how far he had fallen, he did not know.

For some reason, he felt relieved. He could sit up. He could extend his legs and arms. This was much better than the months of crawling through the muck.

"I could get used to this," he thought.

And so, he would sit in the chamber, his chamber, for how long he did not know, or care. This was comfortable. This was acceptable. This was ... fine.

Soon he realized he was atrophying. He did not long for a return to the muck but he knew in the muck he had at least kept moving, even if on a downhill path further into the abyss. The movement had kept him alive. He knew too much time in the chamber would kill him.

He had noticed for a long time while enjoying his current relative comfort there were exits from the room, scarcely accessible, but reachable. When he would approach one or two of the exits he could feel a barely discernible cold, damp air flow. These seemed to lead to the familiar downhill slope.  And from others, an upward trajectory as far as he could tell seemed to maintain a warmer and more constant breeze.

To proceed downhill or uphill, toward more cold and dampness or something different - these were his options.

He knew it would be an easier transition to move to the familiar, the downhill. Perhaps there would be another chamber where he could again collect himself. Perhaps he could muster enough strength to lift his weakened body toward an upwards pathway if he were to again take the downhill, for just a while.

"But would there be that opportunity from another room. What if this is my only chance," he pondered. 

He had made decisions like this before. He had decided before, not languished. He had taken control of his life, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. This was a frightening prospect however, to this time rise to the occasion, instead of allowing the gravity of his own situation to further drag him to stagnation.

With what seemed to be his last bit of energy he could bring forth he leapt to the nearest upwards opening. He could feel the warm breeze flush against his face, hands and arms, and pulling himself into, then pushing through the small opening he found himself wholly into the tunnel. The ground seemed warmer, less murky and easily more inviting than what he was accustomed to. This would be a long journey but he felt buoyed by the prospect for something different.

As he proceeded he was enveloped by a sense of fear, different than what he had ever experienced in all his time in the caverns. This was a fear mixed with possibilities, a fear borne of being unsure if he would be worthy of the warmth, of the inviting, of anything positive, new or uplifting.

"Would I ever merit what might be?" he wondered.

As he continued he could feel the air becoming warmer, sweeter. The dank stagnant air he had learned to live with as his forever reality was being swapped for something different. Finally, he recognized the sensation:

"It feels like ... LIFE!"

Soon he saw a faint glow ahead which became larger and brighter. The light became so bright it was blinding. He was now moving through his tunnel with new resolve and with one final push, emerged as if born anew.

As his eyes finally adjusted to the light he saw he was surrounded by smiling faces, people with varying degrees of dirt and muck on their clothing, remnants of similar struggles as his. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, the warm breeze that had led him to this place upon his skin. It seemed as if he had expended all his remaining energy in his final push into the light when one of the faces reached down and helped him stand. He was upright on his own for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

This smiling face who seemed to have less of the muck on his clothing than the others broke the silence of the group.

"Look around you," he began. First, you are not alone. You will never be, unless you choose the solitary life again. Your possibilities are endless. It is but for you to decide in which direction to proceed. You will encounter more of us along the way. We are everywhere, there, there and there to assist if you are willing to accept the wisdom of those who have gone before. You will stumble, you will fall, but there we will be, always, to help you up and make certain you do not again stumble into the caverns if you are willing to accept the help of those who have gone before.

"I don't know what to say," he said.

"Do not say, DO," said the smiling face. "Welcome to your journey. It begins NOW"

"I'm afraid," he replied.

"We know," said the one, smiling even broader, "Now go and don't worry, Put your trust in what you do not know. We'll be with you."

. . . keep coming back 

"There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go." ~ Robert Frost  

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