Category: Recovery

Christianity, Dogs, Faith, Family, Freedom, Gardening, Gifts, Grace, Gratitude, Hope, Marriage, Positive Thinking, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Trust, Writing

Mud on the floors…

gregoryjoel

Margaret and I were having coffee this morning when she spied the glimmering silver lines of a enormous spider web by the tree in front of the porch. When I say enormous, I mean huge. It extended from the lower canopy of the tree all the way to the ground. Although it was so large, you had to look carefully to see it as it waved in the spring-like morning breeze. It was the perfect trap for other insects and guaranteed our little eight-legged friend a hearty meal.

What truly amazes me about spiders is the seriousness and speed with which they work. We’ve had the privilege of watching one up close every evening for the last couple of years. I don’t know if it’s one of the offspring from the previous year, but it’s always the same species as far as I can tell. Then again, I’m no etymologist and Margaret’s content to watch from her chair, which is always a safe distance away.

We are always a bit awed by how quickly the little guy can get up, down, and across what looks like nothing but air. What’s amazing is that he does this night after night and in the same spot. In the morning the web will have disappeared somehow, and he must go about his business every night. It doesn’t seem to bother him that his fastidious work is needed each evening. He seems to have the idea of ‘one day at a time’ done pat. I could learn a lot from this tiny arachnid.

I came in the study and discovered it would be necessary to mop the floor before going any further into my day. We were blessed by a pretty good rain (for July anyway) yesterday afternoon. We haven’t yet figured out how to train the dogs to wipe their feet when they come and go through the doggy door. Thank God for laminate flooring.

In the spring, I tend to complain a lot about the continual mopping that comes with three large dogs and the springs rains. I begin to grumble over and over, forgetting that the day will come when I wouldn’t mind cleaning up after them at all. Today is one of those days! We’ve gone from above-average precipitation to moderate drought and burn bans in the span of two months. When the thunderstorm came yesterday, all I could do was sit on the porch, watch it fall, and say a prayer of thanks.

One of the few things I remember from high school science class is that “for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”. I don’t know if that’s still true. It’s been forty-plus years and many changes ago, but it has sure been my experience. My dad always called it the ‘law of sowing and reaping’ and I can get with that. I love to work in my garden. If I sow good seeds, I get a good harvest – simple as that – and every blessing comes with a responsibility. We were blessed with rain and now I need to mop the floor…

I’m learning how to plant better seeds on a personal level, but I sometimes forget that responsibility comes with blessings. In the Torah of the Hebrew Bible, God asks Abram (later called Abraham) to pick up his belongings and head for a land where God says, “I’ll make you a great nation and bless you”.

Sometimes however, I overlook the end of God’s talk with Abraham, “All of the families of the Earth will be blessed by you”. Maybe I’m stretching a bit, but what I hear is “I bless you in order to bless others”.

Blessing with responsibility. Go figure…

Sometimes the word ‘blessed’ seems so ‘churchy’ and trite. I prefer words like ‘gifted’ or ‘graced’. I’ve been on the receiving end of a multitude of gifts and I’ve come to understand that everything in my life is grace. I can’t help but ‘re-gift’ or extend the grace I’ve received. ‘Re-gifting” has somewhat of a dubious reputation at times. I guess it depends on the gift. The one I’ve been given is priceless, so I don’t feel bad about re-gifting.

It is my responsibility to pass on what I’ve been given so freely. Not only is it just responsibility, but it’s a life lesson. I get to learn the joy that comes from giving, and the freedom from the lie of scarcity that seems so prevalent today. The more I give, the better I am. Life becomes different the more responsible I become.

The irony is that I receive so much more than I could ever give away. That’s the amazing thing about grace. I guess I’ll think about it some more while I mop the floor…

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Gratitude, Growing Up, Hope, Patience, Prayer, Recovery, Simplicity, Trust, Uncategorized, Writing

Wait….

gregoryjoel

A friend of mine once told me that for the first year of recovery, he couldn’t sleep for more than a couple of hours. He was tired all the time and affected his work. So, he went to see his doctor to ask for something to help him sleep. She specialized in treating patients with addiction issues. She patiently listened to his difficulties and when he asked for sleep medication she refused. She went on to say that when he needed sleep, he’d sleep. That was it, discussion over.

 During his second year of recovery, my friend went on to say that he slept all the time. He grew concerned and once again went to his doctor. She listened attentively to his situation and when my friend asked if there was a medication to help, she replied refused again. She told him that his body must need the rest and that eventually it would all even out. He’d find his rhythm again and everything would be okay. He shared this story when I was going through my own physical inability to get the rest I needed.  He found balance and later, so did I.

 I haven’t been sure what’s going on with me physically, but I’ve slept until eight or nine o’clock in the morning for the last week. My normal routine has always been to wake up around 6:30 or 7:00, start coffee, have some time on the porch, and settle down to work. Quite honestly, I was a little concerned until Margaret reminded me that I had been in the hospital and on home IV infusion until this past Monday. I thought of my friend and I decided not to worry about it. It’ll all level out…

 I must issue a disclaimer here. There’s no M.D. behind my name. I’m aware that people in recovery have often physically damaged themselves beyond norms. I’d never suggest that someone should or should not seek medical advice for physical or mental issues, but I’ve also learned that not everything has an immediate answer. In all areas of my life, especially spiritually, the answer to my questions is a simple ‘wait’. Sometimes you just need to hit the ‘pause’ button.

 Waiting is still difficult for me, especially if the situation is extremely uncomfortable. My biggest discomfort today is the disruption of my routine. For that I’m grateful, because I’ve experienced far more troubling times of crisis. As my friend Jim used to tell me, “In the meantime, it’s just a mean time”. Just wait, it’ll pass. I’ve gotten much better at the practice, but I still have a long, long way to go.

 I’ve tried everything I could think of to ease any discomfort I’ve felt; usually in ways that weren’t good for me. If I talked to Jim, he would listen to my rantings – for a minute anyway – and then tell me, “Cowboy, lack of power is your dilemma”. In other words, ‘just stop’! If “lack of power is my dilemma”, maybe I need to find power. That’s where trust and acceptance come in.

 Over the last few years I’ve come to a degree of acceptance that sometimes, life simply shows up in ways I don’t like. No one’s to blame. It’s just living. My friends often respond to my troubles by simply reciting the old cliché, “this ,too, will pass”. That pisses me off. I want an answer now! That’s when my friend Jim would remind me that ‘it’ll all be okay on Tuesday at 2:00’. It was his way of saying, ‘quit struggling and wait’. It really will be okay…

 Waiting was far more difficult prior to my relationship with the Creator. A couple of my friends point to this reliance and belief in a power greater than myself and say I’m shirking responsibility for my decisions. They are entitled to their opinion. I used to believe that waiting was weakness, that it was failure of some sort. Experience has proven that the opposite is true. Today, I’m responsible for the choices I make. They’ve proved rash and somewhat insane in the past. Today I pause. I make more responsible decisions and as a result, have better outcomes.

 Waiting takes courage. Prayer is not magic. It is heartfelt discourse with the God of my understanding. Sometimes I don’t like the answer, especially when it’s ‘wait’. Still, I need to listen for the answer. If I’m not listening, I might as well be talking to myself (more of my insanity). It takes courage to believe. It takes courage to wait.

 I guess my sleep patterns will get back to normal. I’ll be back to my routine soon. Life will go on, all is and will be.” In the meantime…

 

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Letting Go, Neighbors, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Work, Writing

Looking at sixty…

gregoryjoel

I know everyone is getting ready to celebrate the 4th of July but my Independence Day began at 9:15 this morning. My doctor pulled my PICC line and I’m free from my little IV buddy. You all are probably relieved as well. No more having to read about me being under house arrest. I still need to keep the dressing dry for another eight hours. Then, I can officially sweat again. That should be easy as the weather folks are saying it’ll be another 100-plus degree day. I stand in defiance and yell, “Bring it on”. “Free at last”…

Since I went to the doctor, I didn’t get to spend much time on the porch this morning. It’s probably just as well. The heat’s already difficult to deal with and the air seems very still and humid. It didn’t keep me from making another pot of coffee and perusing the newsfeed though. Through the dissonance of all the Monday morning news I found one article worthy of attention. The headline was something like “The One Thing People Over Fifty Regret Most”. I emailed it to myself for later and then the link didn’t work. I truly regret that I didn’t read the whole thing first…

Anyway, I did some research and found another list of the fifty things people over fifty regret the most. I’ll be fifty-nine for another month, so I guess I still qualify. As I read I began to feel better about my emotional and mental health. Of course, it could also be sociopathic behavior, but I prefer to think positively.

According to the MSN Lifestyle section, the number one regret among people my age is “ending a relationship with someone you loved”. I was a little surprised, but I can see that. There’s something about ‘the one that got away’ that seems to stay with us a long time. That hasn’t been my experience though. My first marriage didn’t work out so well. It was mostly my fault, but there’s no regret there. I stayed single for many years afterward. I dated and had a couple of long-term relationships that bring fond memories, but I can’t think of any regrets. I did for a long time but five-and-a-half years ago, I found out that God had something (or more accurately, someone) in mind for me all along. I married my best friend and the love of my life. Scratch off resentment number one…

The number two resentment listed was “not being more adventurous”. If I have any regret about this one, it has more to do with being too adventurous in my younger years. Then again, I could easily substitute ‘being adventurous’ with acting stupid. That’s far more accurate. I did a lot of stupid, and often insane things, now that I look back. In case my look backwards becomes cloudy, I have aches and pains (and the medical bills) to remind me of the foolishness of my youth. Boring is much easier on the body. Every now and then I get a wild hair and think I’m twenty-something again, and I’m quickly reminded I’m not…

As I went down the list, I realized that recovery, a relationship with the God of my understanding, and the love of friends and family has helped me come to terms with what were once regrets. I won’t lie and say I have none. I don’t think anyone can be totally free of regrets, but they’ve become manageable as I grow older.

What really surprised me about the Top Fifty Regrets was that kids and parents were way down on the list. Even though a lot of healing went into my relationships with my parents and children, I wish the damage had never occurred in the first place. My father passed in 2002 and my mother just last year. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them and I often wish I had been a better son. I’m a hardhead and I know I was a handful. So, I try to live each day in a manner that makes them proud. I’m not sure if it constitutes a regret. I’m sure they smile on me today.

I know most parents wish they had done things differently. I sure do. Unfortunately, kids don’t come with instruction manuals and sometimes they pay dearly for our struggles as parents. I know mine did. I’m not confused about that today. I’m truly grateful when my boys go out of their way to show their love for me as their often imperfect father. My oldest came by the other night with a belated Father’s Day gift, a picture of Roger Staubach and Tom Landry on the sidelines back in 1969. If you know how I felt about the old Dallas Cowboys, you’d know how much it meant to me. Grace is such a wonderful thing…

Thankfully, my regrets list is small, although I could really understand number thirty-four on the list, “being ungrateful”. It took a long, long time to find gratitude in my life. I wish I had been more grateful for the life God gave me. An old friend used to always say “you lead such a charmed life”. I was in my late forties before I understood what she meant. I do lead a charmed life, despite a lengthy list of bad decisions and deplorable actions. That’s why, for me, everything is about grace and gratitude.

I think that the deeper one experiences the grace of a loving God, family, and friends, the easier it is to be grateful. That’s been my experience and observation anyway. When I’m honest enough to admit my failures and find forgiveness anyway, I can’t help but be grateful, and that gratitude leaves me with very little regret. Go figure…

Christianity, Communication, Dogs, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Immigration, LGBTQ, Marriage, Politics, Recovery, Spirituality

Foxes and protest marches…

gregoryjoel

Disclaimer: My editor, (Margaret) is out to a late breakfast and a movie with a friend of ours. It’s really hard to edit myself so please excuse any errors. I love you Margaret and your help is greatly appreciated. I love baby…

 

I slept in this morning. It was after nine o’clock when I was finally awakened by Miss Maggie giving me my morning bath. All you pet parents will know what I mean. Please understand that Maggie is half Catahoula and half coyote. She has her “wild” moments and she’s quite the huntress, catching birds in mid-air, and bringing dead rats and possums in the house. Her eyes are different from most dogs I’ve known. You would have to see them to know what I mean, but there’s an alertness and an awareness that’s goes well beyond that of domesticated dogs. I guess that what makes our bond so special. Our other two, Jameson and Sadie, favor Margaret, but Maggie is all mine…

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The porch was unbelievably pleasant this morning even though the sun had been up for a while. I sat with my wife for a while and got to speak to our kid before she left. I was curious as to why she was up so early. Classes are out for the summer and I know she was binge-watching Jurassic Park movies with friends last night. The only reason I was up early on Saturdays when I was twenty-seven was because I had kids by then.

 

I was extremely pleased when she told me she was off to the Families Should Stay Together march in downtown Fort Worth, protesting the insane, inhumane, and immoral immigration policies of Mr. Trump and his cronies. I’d love to be there, but I’m still tethered to my little IV buddy (only until Monday!) and can’t be in the heat. Margaret wanted to go as well. Even though she’s far more conservative than I am, she’s a mom and she’s outraged that families are torn apart. We asked Gael to please raise her voice a little louder and represent us as well.

 

Our daughter has officially `come out’ as transgender. Since she posted it on Facebook I don’t have a problem with saying it (or writing it) aloud. I’m not sure what all that means. She has asked us to refer to her in the third person. As a writer I have some difficulty with that. It’s just not proper English. However, out of respect for her I’ll refer to her in the third person for the duration of this post. I’m not sure how I feel about that if I’m honest with you and with her. It doesn’t make a difference though as I love our kid no matter how `they’ identify.

 

It’s taken me a long journey to reach that point. I was raised in a very conservative religious background, so I carried a lot of baggage into adulthood. Like everything else in life, it requires a lot of conversations, a lot of prayer, and a lot of meditation. I still don’t have all the answers, but I refuse to preach drivel when I know that all of us are God’s kids. If I’m wrong, and I don’t believe I am, God accepts us where and for who we are regardless of labels and identification.

 

I must admit that I don’t often understand all the labels. I know it’s important for people who have lived with discrimination and, often hate, to come out and let everyone know that they’re one of God’s kids just like everyone else. Growing up as a socially awkward introvert, I know what it’s like to bully to fit in with the crowd and be bullied because someone is different. I’m thankful that as time goes on, we’ve become more tolerant and less judgmental as a people. We still have a long way to go. I’m grateful for those who take a stand for dignity, equality, and what is right. I’m proud of who `they’ are.

 

When Margaret and I married five-and-a-half years ago, we decided that we had no `step’ kids. They were all our children, even if they were grown. So, when Gael asked if `they’ could move in with us, so `they’ could go back to college, we invited `them’ home, and this is `their’ home.  I emphasize that because we are known to have our occasional conflicts and frustrations. The reason has more to do with the fact that she’s so much like me than anything else. Even though I didn’t come to know her until she was a young adult, she’s like me in so many ways. She’s as passionate about loving others, social equality, and injustice as I am. It’s not surprising that we but heads from time to time…

 

So, that being said, `they’ probably don’t have a clue how special this morning was to me. I’m proud that `they’ are marching today, and a heartfelt thank you out to `them’. More than that, it was when `they’ were leaving this morning, Gael went in a brought me out a cup of coffee. I know that sounds incredibly trivial and unimportant. It’s what `they’ brought in that was super special.

 

When Gael moved in, `they’ had a coffee mug that was singled out as one we couldn’t use. It was `their’ `fox’ mug and had special meaning for her. We’ve always respected `their’ wishes and we’ve never drank from it before. When Gael brought my coffee, guess what it was in! I wouldn’t have been surprised if we were short on coffee mugs, but the dishes are done and there’s no shortage in our house, believe me. I don’t know whether it was intentional or not, but Margaret tells me it’s a big deal. Heck, I was just thankful `they’ brought me a cup of coffee. I didn’t know I was getting so much more.

 

So, Gael, I’m sure it’s hot and uncomfortable downtown this morning, but thank you for being there and for simply being you. I’m proud of you and want you to know I love and appreciate you – even when I’m a stubborn old fart…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Gratitude, Hope, Letting Go, Politics, Prayer, Recovery, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized, Writing

The only thing we have to fear…

gregoryjoel

It’s a gorgeous summer morning here on the porch today; a light southerly breeze moves the still cool morning air, reminding me not to think ahead to the afternoon heat. It’s almost the end of June and moments like these become fewer and farther between as the summer progresses.

I ran into an old friend last night that I don’t usually get to see except on Facebook and our annual breakfast on New Year’s Day. We talked for a bit and caught up on personal happenings and the conversation slowly moved to the current state of affairs. We share some of the same political views, most of which concern our incredulity that people could support a man like Donald Trump. Rumor has it that Mr. Trump keeps a copy of Hitler’s, Mein Kampf on his nightstand. I don’t know whether it’s true or not, but it makes sense…

I’ve learned that putting myself in other people’s shoes helps me to understand them better. When I gain a degree of understanding, I find I’m a little more empathic and less self-righteous and judgmental (and believe me, I can be that…). My wife has taught me that better than anyone else. She’s blessed to have the gift of empathy. She often helps me slow down and begin to see someone else’s circumstance and point of view. It’s helped me be more like the man I want to be.

I guess that’s why I’m not as harsh to those with opposite views anymore. I’ve tried to put myself in their place, to understand why they feel and act (and vote) the way they do. As I’ve grown older it makes more sense. I have moments when I, too, wish for the ‘way things were’. Nostalgia creeps in and the old times seem much better (and simpler), but life goes on. My Dad used to tell me that the only thing consistent about life is change…

The funny thing about nostalgia is that not much of it is true. Reality is always different from my memory. I tend to romanticize the good times, and rationalize, justify, and minimalize the not so good times – especially when they were the result of my decisions. I’ve learned that I’m not unique in that regard. Waxing nostalgic and ignoring reality is a common practice.

I’ve been hearing this phrase repeat itself over and over in my head lately – “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” (George Santayana). In recovery rooms they have a similar saying – “When I forget my last high I’m in danger of the next one”. So, I guess I’m not surprised when life seems to cycle over and over. In our collective nostalgia we vote in a Trump just like we voted in a Coolidge and a Hoover.

The good news is that a Roosevelt and a ‘New Deal’ is always on the horizon waiting for me (and us) to accept it. Like Roosevelt said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself”. Fear is pervasive in our culture today. Our culture, whether on the right or the left loves to create political, economic, and social fear. It’s no wonder people act the way they do. I do some incredibly dumb things out of fear as well…

The truly ‘Good News’ for me is that most of my fears are unfounded. Common sense tells me not to go around picking up rattlesnakes, but if someone didn’t, there wouldn’t be festivals like the Rattlesnake Round-up in Sweetwater. I’ll still leave that one for others, though.

Today I have faith in a God of my understanding who continually reminds me “Don’t be afraid”, “be still and know that I am God”.  He needs to remind me because I still have my moments. The world can be a scary place, especially if I substitute reality with nostalgia and denial. I know that no matter what happens, God has my back and everything’s going to be okay. That frees me to understand others and to act courageously and love freely. After all, my Rabbi likes to remind me that “perfect love casts out all fear”.

I’m pretty sure the world will go on as it has. History will repeat itself in a continuous, ongoing cycle, and people will long for ‘good old days’ that weren’t all that great. The good news is that it doesn’t have to, but that requires being fearless. I’m so thankful for those that are. I’m thankful that “all I have to fear is fear itself” and that I have freedom to be courageous. Let’s be fearless today…