Another Lesson Learned From the Running Life

"Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you." ~ John De Paola

If you haven't figured it out yet I am a runner and I love it. I run even when nobody or nothing is chasing me with a community of "like-minded idiots" as I call the running club I have been a part of for over three years. This group of people of all ages, abilities, backgrounds and ethnicities is quite possibly the most positive collection of souls I have ever met. After all, the newbies who join us each year actually believe they can finish their "goal races" of the 5K, 10K, half marathon, or marathon, or even the ultimate tests of the 50K, or 50 or 100 mile ULTRA races, having never achieved these goals in the past. We are truly a crazy conglomeration of humanity.

It is June and we are all between training. Winter/Spring training ended with races in April through the first weekends of May. Summer/Fall training begins the last Saturday of June. So what is an endorphin-starved person to do? You sign up for a half marathon the second weekend of June, the Race 13.1, to maintain your "fightin' fitness," hoping Mother Nature won't throw a premature jolt of heat and humidity to spoil the party.

The previous year's race had been moved inexplicably from the gentle coolness of a late May schedule to a June date and was a scorcher with temperatures nearing the 90s and accompanying humidity. Nonexistent were the flower-covered fields along the path from previous years. Runners were met with a route more suited to filming a dystopian, post-apocalyptic science fiction movie than a race through picturesque greenways and wildlife preserves. It was memory burned into the minds of the runners who endured the ordeal. There were no fond recollections of this race, which thinned this year's race participant count.

I had run a half marathon in early May in which I PR'd (personal record) so this was going to be a fun run, at a pace where I could enjoy myself and the company of friends along the way. There were a number of us who gathered prior to the race from the running club and we all commiserated about what pace we would go so we could enjoy ourselves.

"At least it's not as hot as last year," I heard someone say.

But it was becoming hot enough!

Just prior to the race our running club team gathered and separated into groups with similar pace goals for the day. Six of us agreed on a pace suitable for enjoying the race on a day that was quickly becoming sunny and almost cloudless, unlike the weather predictions for mostly cloudy and cool-ish conditions. The National Anthem was played and we were off.

Soon it was clear that a few in our group were going to push it a bit harder and they separated from us within the first mile of the 13.1 . Had I not heard a voice of reason next to me from a runner with much more experience, I would probably have joined them.

"Let them go," she said.

And we did.

We ran a smart race. As the heat burned and the elevation of the course increased, decreased and increased again we would slow, walk, increase and decrease our pace. For weeks the weather had been rainy and cool yet somehow humid at the same time - a perfect greenhouse - and Mother Nature greeted us with her full array of flora. We noticed the Black-eyed Susans, the daisies. We slowed to smell the roses, and the honeysuckles, and almost careened into each other on a stretch of the trail covered totally in mud.

We came, we saw, we laughed.

We had a grand time. We finished, together.

It was a life lesson learned.

Sometimes you just have to slow down. You can enjoy the moments without competing. There is enough time for the fast pace, for the "let's go for it" mentality.

Sometimes it's OK to just ... let ... go and enjoy what the Great Creator has laid out.

You can simply Live, Laugh, AND Enjoy!

Try it sometime. At your own pace!

. . . keep coming back

"Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished." ~ Lao Tzu

The Fable of the Portal

"Every exit is an entry somewhere else." ~ Tom Stoppard

The posture had become habitual, an uncomfortable comfort she had grown to accept along a journey that had taken her so far. She had beaten her beasts, slain her worst tendencies, cleared her mind, and soul, partially, from years of self loathing and abuse. She, not anyone else had made the decision not to live THAT life anymore.

Yet what life lay ahead was the uncertainty. She had wasted so many years, missed so many opportunities to learn, fail, succeed, then fail again, she wondered where the next pathway in her life would lead. So there she sat, each day in her room, glued to a screen of games and "adventures", offering a hypnotic respite from having to take that next step to living THAT real life she was meant to live.

This was comfortable, yet a foreboding surrounded her like a shroud.

"What am I so afraid of? she wondered.

She functioned. If you would see her on the avenue, in the grocery or bodega you would not think her to be a captive in her own home. Yet there she would sit, staring at a screen and removed from her world of possibilities.

One day she awakened and something seemed different. She wasn't certain what it was and put this intuition to the side for the time being. Her intuitions had missed the mark over the past few years she thought to herself with a chuckle, Her intuitions had led her down some dark pathways.

This was a weekend, a Saturday, and for once in a long while she was not working - thankfully. It had been a long week. She returned from the nearby convenience store after picking up some this and that, a boxed nitrate-laden breakfast and a few Red Bulls and bottled waters for the day. It was an expeditious expedition to avoid any unnecessary personal contact. She was out and back in less than ten minutes.

When she returned home to her room something was different. She knew she had turned off the television prior to her breakfast run yet could hear a humming drone of the TV speakers signaling an issue with the signal.

"Shit, the Internet must be out again," she complained to no one.

She entered her bedroom and the droning of the speakers immediately got louder. "That's odd," she thought.

And what she saw when sat at her normal place at the end of her bed alarmed her. Instead of a blank screen typical of when the Internet would be interrupted she saw what people used to refer to as "snow", its accompanying white noise but with the odd addition of the humming she had never before heard emanating from the screen. As she stared at the snow she swore she could see forms seemingly dancing, coming and going as temporary images within the specs of white, black and gray.

"Weird."

She arose to get a closer look and as she approached the screen she could feel something tugging at her, pulling her closer to the dancing images.

"This can't be."

She reached out her hand to touch the two-dimensional display and at that instant, everything was gone! And so was she.

"But to where?"

When she was able to she opened her eyes and found herself in a place. There would be no other way to describe where she seemed to be. There was no furniture, landmarks or any points of reference to determine how large or small this place was, big or small, expansive or confined. All she could see was the same black, white and gray snow surrounding her and scattering off her like dry snowflakes in the wintertime. The snow was collecting around her - ominously.

As she turned to determine if there was anything to see beyond the snow she noticed a lightness in the distance through a clearing in the blizzard surrounding her. She moved closer to where the light was emanating and could barely discern a form. She soon realized what she could see was herself, sitting on her bed, controller in hand. In her horror she moved closer to get a better view of this image and was stopped by a clear barrier.

"Had she somehow been transported inside the television?" she wondered.

She peered at herself on the other side of the barrier and her heart sunk. "Is this what my life has come to?" she asked herself aloud.

And she started to cry. Her sadness engulfed her and saturated her body. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and onto the barrier. Almost immediately the image on the other side changed. She could see herself as she was years ago, "out of it," with no direction, drive or goals, duty-bound to the chemical-of-the-day she had chosen as an escape from life, from everything. She pressed her body closer against the screen and felt the same pull she had felt prior to her transport into the snow. Her recoil was immediate and visceral.

"NO!" she screamed! Never again would she travel that path; go on THAT journey.

The scene changed almost as soon as she had drawn away from the barrier. There were images of family assembled around her, holding her, then the scene moved again to her alone on her bed, crying.

Her life was playing out before her. SHE was the mindless entertainment, the multitude of channels and choices available for viewing.

"Choices," she pondered. Perhaps this is my time, my chance. Perhaps The Universe is not playing a cruel trick on me. Perhaps this is my shot.

She continued to watch as the images moved more quickly now. She saw herself as a little girl, happy, before the dark days. This would not be her choice. She decided going forward was what she wanted, not going back.

"I might not remember the pathways that lead to my downward spiral," she thought.

Then, she saw herself as she had never imagined, surrounded by people clad in colorful, seemingly outlandish attire, some who knew her history it seemed, some who did not. She could see, no, she could feel her past meant nothing to these people. She wasn't certain what the connection was. All she knew a connection was there.

Fearful this image would change, that this would be another opportunity lost she moved closer to the barrier, touching the screen almost to the point of embracing it. Immediately she was joined by two of the dark, gray-black-white forms she had seen before her transportation.

"GO!" said one.

"NOW!" said the other.

She pressed as much of her body that she felt she could against the barrier and in an instant, again, everything was gone.

When she was able to she opened her eyes and found herself back in her bedroom, at the edge of her bed.

"This can't be!" she cried aloud. "What was the point of everything, of all of this? Why this intricate ruse? Who is behind this cruel game being played on me? Don't you see I don't want to live life like this anymore? I've seen what my life can be!" she ended.

As she lay on her bed, tears streaming in rivulets down her face her phone rang. She collected herself as best she could.

"Hello?"

"Hi, my name Alejandra. You don't know me but a mutual friend gave me your name. She thought you might be interested in meeting up with a bunch of us for a bike ride. Would you like to GO?"

"When?" she asked.

"NOW." said the stranger, Alejandra.

"GO, NOW," she remembered the message of the forms in the portal, and smiled.

"Where are we meeting?" she asked.

"Look out your front window," said Alejandra. "Our mutual friend thought it best not to leave anything to chance, or to give you too much time to think about it."

She lifted the blinds and saw at least twenty-five people dressed in outlandish cycling attire.

"This is exactly what I saw through the barrier, she thought.

"Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll be right down."

And as she prepared to leave she looked at her television screen that was no longer humming, but the snow remained. She picked up the remote control and just prior to pressing the power button she could see two forms through the screen, her former barrier. They seemed to be waving to her.

"Goodbye my friends," she heard herself say and with that, pushed the button, and began her life, again.

 . . . keep coming back

"Go forth into the busy world and love it. Interest yourself in its life, mingle kindly with its joys and sorrows." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Time To Get Your "Sing" On

"Each of us has been blessed with a purpose that makes our heart sing." ~ Madisyn Taylor

We are all focused on our journeys, are we not? We advance, retreat, we choose one path over another depending on our current state of mind or where our attention needs to be at any particular point along our chosen track. Often we can become so fixated on progress we can forget who we really are, who we wanted to be long ago, who we were meant to be.

What does that mean exactly?

The journey is the thing, certainly. We are striving to become more true to our true selves, more real, for ourselves and our children who only want the same. We are a beacon, or can be, showing the way for our fellow parent-travelers and our addicts and addicts in recovery. It's a lot of pressure to be sure, eased by the pilgrimage and our progress along the way.

Can we become too focused? Can we lose sight of the signposts along the way? Are we so concentrated on keeping our heads down we cannot see what The Universe beckons us to explore?

What turns you on? What was it, years ago you relinquished for the immediate crisis-of-the-month precipitated by The Addiction?

Can we start just one more plate spinning in our lives?

The answer is, must be, YES!

When we think about what passions were once there, or even percolating years ago, we should try not to perceive these as wild detours from our chosen pathway, but as side trails leading to undiscovered treasures along the way. We can always keep our main journey pathway close by, in sight, while we unearth joys, talents and dreams for years stifled by our plunges in and out of the The Addiction's vortex with our children. We will discover treasures which can lead to communities of people who like us, simply want to reclaim life's potential joys, positivity and vigor. Joining in communities of human beings who may or may not have been touched by The Addiction we may also find new perspectives on how we might live life to the fullest.

So what is it that you have forgotten? Are you a singer? - you can join a chorale or choir; Have you wanted to run a 5K, half marathon, marathon or perhaps even one of those crazy Ultras (not Mich Ultra)? - join a running club; Have you always had a penchant for writing? - then START WRITING  DAMMIT!

Take that outside path, the nature trail jutting just to the right, or left, off the beaten track. Become the adventure you were meant to be. It's in you. It's in all of us. Take a moment to Seek and See, then take a deep breath and embark on a new journey to your first undiscovered realm the Great Creator always knew you were meant to explore.

Get out there and sing, shine and show up - be your own beacon to your best. You'll be amazed at the places you'll see, what you'll do and where you'll go. It's a chance worth taking to meet a new and exciting YOU!

. . . keep coming back

"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

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