Utter Hope

If you've ever ridden Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland, you'll know there's a warning sign, prior to taking the "big drop," that reads "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter." 

This sign should be hung over the front door of every prison in our country. These places are a "vacuum of despair," the utter absence of hope, a wet blanket of sorrow thrown over your head the second you pass through the gates.

Twice I've had to venture behind the iron-clad doors of penal institutions. Fortunately, both were for the purposes of work and not court ordered. 

I'll never forget stepping across the threshold, overwhelmed with gloom, hopelessness, and despondency. I wanted to run for the door, not because I feared the men locked inside, but to escape the abandonment of hope that permeated the walls that surrounded me. It was sad. It was depressing. It was hopeless. 

Tonight, I experienced the polar opposite of that: A Rehab graduation for four men celebrating six months of continuous sobriety.

A room full of recovering addicts and ex-cons buzzing with joy and hope for a new tomorrow. 

Men and women, all under six months, smiling and singing, hugging and laughing, in bright-eyed excitement for the graduates. The anticipation toward their own graduation was palpable. A room full of new sobriety, everybody firmly perched atop their own pink clouds. 

It was intoxicating (in the right way).

Choose Your Crazy

God either exists or he doesn't.

There's no 3rd option.

Either everything in the universe happened by chance, all coming together perfectly against staggering odds to create time, space, matter, life, temperature, energy, natural laws, etc. as a complete freak accident...

or

Everything was created by some omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent "being" in the sky for a greater purpose, which we will never understand.

That's it. 

Those are the choices. 

There are no other options.

When you put them side-by-side, neither possibility seems viable. Both are outrageous explanations, difficult to comprehend and impossible to prove. Yet, one of them HAS to be true.

There's no way of knowing which one.

We're left to guess.

For me, only one of these choices offers an explanation for why I'm here, why we're all here, and provides meaning to my existence. 

For that reason alone, I pick door #2.

I choose Hope.

Off the Wagon

Nobody falls off the wagon. They jump.

To be clear, no one has ever (honestly) said the words, "I didn't mean to relapse... I slipped and the bottle fell into my mouth." 

Every relapse is premeditated. 

Every. Single. One. 

No exceptions.

Relapse is about intent.

A normie friend recently ask me, "What would happen if you 'accidentally' took a drink of alcohol... say, you ordered a Virgin Margherita and the bartender screwed up and served it with tequila? Would that be a relapse? Would you fall right back into you addiction?"

"Well, that depends..." I responded. "...on what I do the moment I realize there's booze in the drink. If I immediately put the drink down and don't take another sip, it is not a relapse because there was no intent to drink the alcohol on my end. On the other hand, if I take just ONE more sip after I've realized the drink is spiked, then yes, it's a relapse and I have to start counting days again."

There's a misconception among normies that if alcohol simply touches the lips of an addict, we'll somehow fall into a state of uncontrollable compulsion, head straight to the nearest liquor store, and wind up back in the gutter as soon as our wobbly little legs can get us there. 

Not so.

In fact, there's actually alcohol in many products that people in recovery use on a daily basis: cough medicine, mouth wash, orange juice (yes, that's right, a glass of orange juice can contain up to 1/10 the percentage of alcohol as a bottle of beer). Some recovering addicts will avoid said items because they are "triggers" to relapse for them and best avoided. Others have no issue consuming these products, as the intent in using them is "as directed" and not for mind/mood-altering purposes. 

I once heard a new-comer (someone with less than 1 year of sobriety) half-jokingly ask their sponsor, "So... if I tell a friend to drop a hit of acid into my drink when I'm not looking, that's not a relapse?"

"Incorrect." Came the response. "That's still premeditation."

"But if someone spikes my drink with booze," she continued, "and I didn't ask them to, I could get wasted and not have to start over in recovery, right?"

"Wrong," responded the sponsor. "You would taste, smell, or feel the effects of the alcohol long before you got wasted. Any drink after that is a relapse."

She sunk back in her chair and crossed her arms, defeated.

Sometimes relapse is obvious, no need to bring the ref out onto the field, but many times it is a personal journey. A friend of mine was prescribed Vicodin for back pain... he took ONE extra pill after his pain had subsided and called himself out.  He gave up his sobriety date over ONE pill. Now that's what I call rigorous honesty. 

This is why recovery is considered a "personal journey." One can only experience true recovery if they are COMPLETELY honest with themselves about the path they're traveling. 

The beauty of this system is if you're lying about your sobriety and taking dirty chips, nobody cares! 

It's your journey, do what you want! 

The only person you'd be lying to is you.

If Jesus Came Back Today

I don't know what exactly would happen if Jesus came back today, but there are a few things I do know for sure...

I know for sure that he would not present as a cis gender, straight, white male. More likely, he'd manifest as a non-gender, asexual, person of color... which, to be honest, was probably much closer to the actual Jesus of the Bible (I know, I know... "Jesus was white! We seen the picture books!").

I know for sure He wouldn't come from an upscale, wealthy, well-educated background; more like an "inner-city" upbringing, educated in public schools, son of a day laborer... again, much like the Jesus of the Bible.

I know his disciples would not consist of politicians, pastors, bankers, or accountants, rather, field workers, ex-cons, recovering addicts, sex workers, and queers. Church leaders would rattle their Bibles in his face and exclaim, "Why do you consort with these people?" And he would respond, "If you understood God's will, you would not condemn the innocent. I have not come to heal the healthy, but the sick. Whatever you did not do for the least of these..." Then he would pick up a stone and offer it to them.

I know for certain, Jesus would be less concerned with consoling the Church and more interested in healing the sick, particularly those inflicted with Aids and HIV, the homeless, the schizophrenic and mentally ill, the drunkards and drug addicts, all of the people who society deems "unclean" -- those would be the people he would tend to first.

I know that He would preach love, above all else, for your fellow man. Unconditional love, not for your brother (whom it's easy to love), but for your enemy - the people who don't share your politics, religion, race, skin color, marital status, disabilities (or lack thereof), social status, sexual orientation, or gender identity. He would remind us that "love" is unconditional and clearly defined in 1 Corinthians 13; it in no way mentions "judgement" or "correcting your brother in love" or "loving the sinner but hating the sin" -- Just pure, unconditional love,.

I know Jesus would rage against the Church's greed. He would infect their fundraising websites with viruses, sabotage their satellite feeds, and set fire to their offertory mailings. His tirades would be blasted out on TikTok videos, with the the text "My house is a place of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves!" scrolled in CAPS across the page in Futura font.

He would hold accountable the leaders of His church and the hypocrisy that plagues His people. He would not turn a blind eye to the gossipers, hypocrits, and trouble makers because "they are tithing elders" -- No, he would condemn them and demand their repentance. He would point out the blatant cherry-picking of scripture verses used to strengthen their narratives and justify their hatred and line their pockets. He would weep at the bastardization of His Word for the purpose of acting on their prejudices to persecute anyone "in the name of love" who was different from them - Not just the queers and Arabs, but anyone who doesn't sing in their choir, dunk in their baptismal, play in their band or wear their uniform - anyone who is different. 

He would beat his breast and exclaim, "Woe to you hypocrites! You have given your tithes, but neglected the more important matters of mercy, justice, and faithfulness!'

Jesus would be (nearly) the exact manifestation today as he was 2000 years ago. And they would hate him for it. The very people who claim to love Him would rally their lawyers, incite the masses, and light their torches. They would sign petitions and write their congressmen, demanding the blasphemer silenced.  He would be brought in front of a Congressional hearing where he would refuse to fight, silently taking The Fifth. The government would find no fault in him, but would cower to the will of the masses. He would be defamed and canceled. His people, who routinely eat their own, would serve him up on a platter.

To be sure, I don't know everything that would happen if Jesus came back today, but I do know this: 

The Church would crucify Him.

Thoughts On God...

 In a recent post, I wrote about "The Key to Happiness."

Personal morality is a concept I have thought about for some time. I often share these thoughts at a Monday night Recovery meeting that I regularly attend.

To recap: Every immoral act we commit, no matter how small, chips away at our self respect until we are one day left a self-loathing heap. Conversely, each moral act, no matter how small, builds our self-esteem and grows confidence and love for self and others - we build self-esteem through estimable acts.

This particular meeting is regularly attended by an ordained pastor who volunteers his time helping some of the guys at a local recovery house. He is a lovely man who has an honest love for the men in the program and for God.  The reason I bring him up is because every time I share my thoughts on "building self-esteem via estimable acts," this godly man is quick to add the footnote, "And remember, the most important reason to be good is because it pleases God." 

While I don't disagree with this sentiment, I do question its underlying motivation for morality - does God truly require our moral righteousness solely for the sake of His pleasure? 

I think back to my childhood and the relationship between my brother and I. We fought like caged wolverines on an electrified floor. My mother, bless her heart, despised our fisticuffs and wished for nothing more than her two boys to love each other and get along. For her sake, we did our best to keep from smashing one another in the face, but we lived a LONG way from loving each other and (truly) getting along.

So, if examined, yes, we managed to keep the peace and throw up the facade of harmony, which made our mother happy. But was that what she really wanted? Or would she have preferred that we honestly get along and love one another as brothers should? I don't think anyone would argue that she would have preferred the latter (as any mother would).

We are made in the image of God, so would His preferences be any different? Does God want us to be morally upright because it pleases him? Or does he prefer we do the right thing because it is the right thing to do? 

Yes, even the smallest act of virtue pleases God, and there is no fault with being good for the sake of pleasing Him, but His genuine satisfaction comes when we uphold moral standards through selfless acts of love for others, our brothers, with no strings, simply because it's "just the right thing to do." God wants us to do the right thing, not for Him, but for our brother, for the world, and because it makes us spiritually stronger. 

His pleasure is simply a guaranteed side effect.

As for me and my brother, we get along great now. He's an honorable man of god, an exemplary husband, and an incredible father... and once I got bigger than him, he became a great brother as well.

Self Medication

During my first six months of sobriety, I remember looking back on who I was a half-a-year prior and marveling at how far I had come. "Who was that guy?" I didn't recognize the person I had turned into while in my addiction.

So why did I drink?  It was the only thing that quieted the demons, silenced the voices, and shut off the noise.  

To be clear, there were no audible voices, nor did the family dog instruct me to kick-start a chainsaw while my family slept.  It was just... "noise."  More specifically: Emotional chaos that blared like a siren, constant and incredulous. The fear of being alone with my own thoughts scared the hell out of me and alcohol was the only thing that shut it all down.

It was a spiral of depression and self loathing. I couldn't look at my own reflection - if I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror or store window, I would look away. I was unable to face myself. Too ashamed. 

My self esteem was in the toilet. I would find myself repeating, "Guy is great... Guy is awesome... You rock.  Guy is a rockstar..." en sotto voce, over and over, to sooth myself into placation. I had to constantly reassure myself that I was not trash in order to keep moving forward.

But alcohol... Alcohol was the great emotional suppressor.  Problem was, the more I drank, the more I loathed myself, the more I loathed myself, the more depressed I became, the more depressed I became, the louder the emotional chaos. How to turn off that emotional chaos?  More alcohol.  

The process of overcoming the noise, without the aid of alcohol, was a difficult one. I knew I'd get there because I could remember a time, before I started drinking, when I lived without the noise. And as with all good things, it took a lot of time and practice to get back to level ground. Once I did, I knew I never wanted to go back to the bottom because I never wanted to have to climb out again.

My wife tells me it breaks her heart when she hears how low and desperate I had become in my disease.  

My answer: It wasn't me.

My Future Relapse

My wife and I were talking about a "Long-timer" (someone who has many years of sobriety) that I knew in AA who was diagnosed with terminal cancer. In order to deal with the pain, he started smoking pot. She wondered aloud why anyone would throw all that sobriety away after abstaining for so long. My response, "Hey, if I was dying from cancer, I'd smoke a bowl in a second!"

"You would??" she asked. 

"Yep. In fact, when we get old, if you die first and leave me alone, I'm gonna tell them to put me out on the front porch with a bottle of whisky and box of cigars and leave me to slide into eternity with a smile on my face."

"No!" she gasped. "I wouldn't want you to give up your sobriety because I'm gone!"

I laughed and explained to her that (for me) sobriety is not an "abstinence" issue, it's a "quality of life" issue. 

I once heard someone at the podium say, "If it wasn't for hangovers, I'd still be drinking!" No truer words have ever been spoken. I didn't quit drinking and smoking because my parents, my friends, or Jesus wanted me to... I quit because my life was MISERABLE. My alcoholism had lowered my quality of life to the point where I didn't want to continue living -- Had drinking improved my quality of life at all, I would still be drinking today. 

Fortunately, I have a lot to live for today. I have a beautiful marriage, to a beautiful woman, with a beautiful home, and beautiful family and friends. Today, I'm happier than I've ever been because I'm sober. I have so many things that I would not have if I were still in my addiction. Today, I'm sober because it improves my quality of life. Period. 

That said, the day may come when when time takes it all away. On that day, I may decide the only way I can continue on, the only thing that will improve my quality of life, will be found at the bottom of a bottle. 

I hope that day never comes, but if it does... bottoms up!

Death or Relapse

Today I turned 20.

Not 20 years old - 20 years sober.

20 years ago I hit bottom and dragged myself into my first AA meeting. Scariest thing I've ever done. 

I had always been able to quit drinking for "short spurts." Whenever I felt I had lost control, I would hang up the bottle for 30 days (Note: If you find yourself having to do this, just remember, normal drinkers, aka "normies" or "non alcoholics", have no need for such action... ever.). My logic was that if I could quit for a month, I could quit forever, therefore I wasn't an alcoholic (Another Note: if you think this is true of your drinking, you're already well into your addiction).

In June of 2003, I had the last of such attempts. The difference this time around: I couldn't do it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put the bottle down, even for one day. No more denial, I needed help.

I cracked open the phone book (we had internet, so I'm not sure why I grabbed the phone book) and found the number for the AA Hotline. The person on the other end informed me of a "New Comers" meeting that night, just a few miles from my home.

I'll never forget driving driving around the corner and seeing all the people crowded around the front door of the hall, engulfed in a plume of gray cigarette smoke. I didn't know you had to arrive early to save a seat, so I wound up in the back, in the section of the hall that the regulars affectionately referred to as "death row."

I don't remember much from that meeting. I remember it was hot - June in Southern California with no AC - it was crowded, and these people were strange. All I wanted to do was get out of there and climb back into a bottle.

The other thing I clearly remember were the chips -- 30 day chips to be specific. I'm sure people took 60, 90, and 6 month chips that night, but I don't recall those... I remember the 30 day chips. 

"I've done 30 days before," I thought. "If they can do it, I can do it."

Then I went home and promptly got drunk. 

But a funny thing happened for the first time in my drinking career -- It didn't work. That single meeting put just enough Program into my head to ruin my drinking! I was disgusted with myself. I had done the hardest thing in my life by walking into that meeting to ask for help and here I was, back where I started, with a bottle in my hand.

The next day, I went back to that AA Hall. The date was June 6 -- my sobriety date.

It's not been a perfect two decades. I've made a lot of mistakes and regrettable decisions. I've had to apologize over and over again for boneheaded plays both in and out of sobriety; shame has become a familiar foe on my winding journey through the minefield of life. 

If given the chance, would I want to go back and do it over? Correct those missteps? Nah, falling down is how we learn -- To erase my past mistakes would be to erase my current wisdom.

Yet, as I look back over the last two decades, it occurs to me that everyone who helped me in my early years, everyone who showed me how to stand on my new (wobbly) recovery legs, all the people who I looked up to as pillars of sobriety, with few exceptions, are all dead or relapsed. The names rush back to me... Cowboy Larry, Hotrod Dan, Old Man Dan, Keats, Réal, Brock, Clint, Gabe, Derek, Tom, etc. etc. etc.... those who were key to me in my early sobriety are all now absent from the rooms for one reason or another. Gone. Only the memories of them remain.

Not me. I'm here. 20 years. Who knew? Volumes could be written...

To quote Cat Stevens, "Look at me, I am old but I am happy."

Happy Birthday to me.

The Key to Happiness

"The true test of a man's character is what he does when no one is watching." -John Wooden

By nature, human beings are social animals. 

In order to be happy, we require the love of others. We receive love by giving love. However, giving love to others becomes impossible if you lack the capacity to love yourself... and very few possess the gift of "Self-Love."

Aristotle preached that moral virtue could be developed through practice and repetition, like a muscle. I couldn't agree more. The same applies in reverse:

• $1 falls out of the collection plate and I put it in my pocket instead of back in the plate. I've committed a very small immoral infraction. No one will know but me -- so what's the problem? 

Each immoral thing I do, no matter how small, comes with a price. I've gained $1 but in the exchange have lost a tiny, immeasurable fraction of self respect. It's only one inch lost, no biggie. I won't notice. 

• I'm walking my dog late at night, he poops on someone's lawn. Nobody's around but me, so I leave it and walk away. Another inch lost. 
• I load all my groceries into my car. I should probably walk the empty cart over to the grocery cart depository in the middle of the parking lot, it'll only take a second... nah, I'll just let it roll away. Not my problem. Another inch lost.
• Another car tries to merge into my lane on the highway, so I speed up and refuse to let him in. Another inch lost.

Inches turn into feet, feet into yards, yards into miles... before I know it, I'm deplete of self respect and overcome with self loathing. Inch by inch, I've turned into someone I despise.

Returning to Aristotle's point: With every act of morality, no matter how small, I gain an inch of self-respect. 

• Return the money to the offering plate: An inch of self-respect gained. 
• Pick up the poop: Another inch gained. 
• Return the cart to the depository: Another inch gained. 
• Slow down and wave the other driver into my lane. Another inch gained.

Those inches build, over time, into miles of self-respect. When you respect yourself, you love yourself.  When you love yourself, you respect others -- People appreciate respect and are drawn to those who love themselves and respect others. (Added bonus: When you love/respect yourself, what others think of you tends to matter a LOT less.)

Here's the best part: I don't have to be perfect, nor do I have to be better than anybody else. I just have to be a little bit better today than I was yesterday. If I can do that, the day was a success.

With self-respect comes self-love. With self-love comes the ability to honestly love others, no strings. By loving others, we receive love in return which results in the happiness we've been seeking.

Ergo: Morality = Happiness

Resentments

Forgiveness is an act of will.

I've noticed that I can get 100 compliments from 100 different people, but if just one person offers a criticism, that becomes the only opinion that matters. The overwhelming positive feedback means nothing, only that tiny bit of negativity matters.

Nobody ever gossips about the good things their neighbor (or pastor) does, only the naughty, scandalous acts. Reality shows, news reports, and viral videos skew overwhelmingly toward the negative aspects of our society.

Why? Because that's what the audience wants. That's what sells. We're hardwired to focus on the negative. 

For our ancestors, it was necessary for survival. Sure, finding a new "berry patch" was a positive thing, but missing that patch wasn't an immediate threat to one's survival - noticing a sabertooth tiger lurking in the bushes however... Such immediate, negative threats had to be shared with the community right away, and the bearer of such news would be lauded a savior. Village members didn't have the luxury of "investigating" such claims (to do so could get you killed), they simply took the witness' word for it and ran.  

In addition, it was important to remember these dangers in order to protect from future peril. It benefited our ancestors to "hold on" to negative experiences, discuss them around the campfire, and pass them onto younger generations. It could be the difference between life and death.

Though the chances of running into a man-eater today has markedly diminished, our desire to hold onto negative experiences has not. Since there are no tigers to run from, our brain focuses on whatever comes our way - relationship issues, disrespect at the workplace, unwashed dishes in the sink... whatever. We're hard-wired to focus on the negative, believe it without question, share it with others, and keep it for future use. 

That last part, the "keep it" part... that's what we call "resentment."

A former friend of mine has been holding a grudge against me for nearly 30 years. To be fair, I betrayed our friendship while in the depths of my addiction (not an excuse, just a fact). I've tried to make amends over the years, to say I'm sorry for my behavior those many decades ago, but her disdain for me just seems to grow stronger and stronger as the years roll on, as if she feeds on it, and has seemed to devolve into pure hatred. She has spent the last three decades dragging my name through the mud to anyone who will listen. I suppose digging up past hurts gives her some temporary satisfaction, like picking at an old scab and not allowing the wound to heal. From what I hear, she thinks of me often.

As for me, I have moved on. I don't associate with that group of people any longer, so the venom doesn't reach me. I rarely give a thought for this person other than the occasional "resentment" illustration (this writing as an example), but other than that, our broken relationship rents no space in my head. It saddens me to know there is someone out there who holds such vitriol for me, but I don't hate her for her resentment... I pity her.

Resentment causes stress and depression, affects our health, and eats us from the inside out. Fostering such hatred takes energy - negative energy. When we let the dark forces in, they bring friends. Before long, those negative energies infiltrate every corner of our life, festering in the shadows of our mind and soul, eventually spewing out onto others, spreading the scourge. Resentment is a plague.

The only cure for resentment is forgiveness. 

True forgiveness and letting go of hurt grinds against our wiring. It may be one of the most difficult mental feats we can attempt as human beings, especially when there's no repentance from the offender. Either way, we must learn to forgive, not for them, but for ourselves, as forgiveness is necessary for inner peace, physical health, and mental balance.

Forgiveness isn't easy, it is an act of will.