Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Not just one day

I am doing my best to be happy in this time when there are so many things going wrong with the world. Little kids and teachers are killed by terrorists.  The police and citizens are killing each other. And it all seems that the world has gone madder than usual lately.

In the midst of it, I escape to the barn and to ride my horse. He is adjusting well, and his closeness and nuzzling of my hair and chest fill me with love.  It is a simple uncomplicated love here.  Not much asked of each other except respect and good manners.

I hear at meetings the sadness of those who are struggling with family and the expectations of Christmas.  It is another day, albeit one that has lost meaning in its commercialization. For me, every day needs to be about caring and kindness, compassion and empathy.  Not just one day. Every day.

I am at a loss to understand the amount of dysfunction in the world. I cannot change the hearts of madmen and murderers.  I watch the garden growing and see the dogs playing. I hug and hold my beloved close at night. I go to the boat to have a night alone and listen to the waves slap the hull.  And I whisper to my horse and feed him carrots, knowing that I will be with him to the end.

My thoughts are with those who are sick and suffering today.  I wish that I could touch you and hold you and whisper that all will be okay.  And that what isn't okay today may be righted for you tomorrow. I hope so, and send that thought out to the universe and a world in chaos.  Not just one day, but every day I wish you peace.
PS: I just learned that dear Kathleen over at Sittin on a Porch died this morning. Her last post was beautiful.  You can read it here. And then this quote on her page:
Everyone dies. I died. Someone let the air out of my balloon. I'm free. Don't focus on the left over carcass of a deflated balloon. Open up a window. Blow up a balloon. Life/death. It's just a breath away. ~Susan Hunt

Sunday, December 7, 2014

If I had a pony

The leaves are falling from the trees here with the last bits of bright color from the gums and maples.  The weather has been unusually warm for the past week. It has actually been really beautiful to be outside and to ride on the farm with all the trees ablaze.

I spent a few days in north Florida at a horse breeding farm. I rode many times a day, trying out different horses.  Ultimately, I chose an older dressage schoolmaster who was imported to the US several years ago.  I had a pre-sale veterinary check done on him, and he received a glowing report. So I am wiring the money tomorrow, and he will arrive sometime this week to his new home here with us.

After making the decision to get him, I struggled for several hours with the feeling that I don't deserve to have him. I felt a bit of panic and anxiety over the responsibility and the idea that I am being frivolous in spending quite a bit of money on a horse.

These feelings aren't new.  I have struggled for many years with the idea that I am not deserving of "things".  My parents made sure that I knew how much things cost and how I was to take care of what I had because something would not be replaced if I broke it.  They bought me cars and a horse, nice clothes, paid for college--yet, I had the feeling that I needed to realize how lucky I was.  And I did feel lucky and grateful but not deserving.

I don't think these feelings are unusual for someone growing up around heavy drinkers or alcoholics.  The low self-esteem generates feelings of not being good enough, not being worthy.  The interesting thing for me is that I didn't feel this way when I got my sailboats.  But purchasing a horse seems to make me wonder if I am not thrusting myself into a world where snobby people stand around and sip on fancy drinks and talk about the latest hunt club gossip.  That makes me anxious because I don't like gossip or fake people.

I realize that I am building up a lot of this in my head.  We have the money to have a horse and maintain him.  I enjoy riding and live in an area where there are lots of trails and horse farms.  The dressage barn is within walking distance of our place. I know the logical answers to my fears.  Yet, I still alternate between being excited and having anxiety over having something I want that seems not necessary, not critical to my survival.

I am sure that when he arrives this week, my feelings will be those of excitement. My wife is happy and excited.  I talk to her about my anxiety and she tells me that I have not gotten over missing a horse for many years. Now things have come full circle, and the time is now to have another. She loves the idea of my getting him and being able to visit him to groom and feed with carrots.

Funny how the mind reruns the old tapes of "you're not good enough" when there needs to be joy instead.   Anyway, here he is.  He will be here soon. His call name is Star (His registered name is something long and difficult to pronounce). Hopefully, there will be years of adventures together.  I don't think he will fit on my boat. But the song of Lyle Lovett comes to mind:
If I had a boat
I'd go out on the ocean
And if I had a pony
I'd ride him on my boat
And we could all together
Go out on the ocean
Me upon my pony on my boat

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Lots of years

Today is our wedding anniversary.  I surprised my wife with the dozen reds. And we are going to lunch and a movie. What we do on this day isn't the most important thing. Rather, it's how we feel about each other.

I am grateful for every day that we have together, as partners in this life and best friends. We have worked together, fished together, birthed animals together, sailed together, cried together, and laughed together.

All these years were part of a growing process in our relationship.  We didn't know how to be a couple at first because neither of us understood how to have a relationship.  We weathered a lot of storms over these years. The love that we have did not lessen over time but has grown. Hoping for many more years together, C.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

A day of thanks

The rain is coming down today.  It's a good day to stay inside. I can't decide whether to get busy with a project or simply take it easy.  Right now, I am looking outside the bedroom window sitting on the window seat. This is what I see.
There is really more color to the leaves than the photo shows. This is a glorious time in the Lowcountry.  All the maples and sumac and gum trees are in their glory.  Soon enough the leaves will be gone and only the pines and oaks will provide leaves of dark green.  

The other day I was riding down our road on horseback.  And this is what I saw: 

The fog was there in the early morning across the pecan orchard when I started my ride and then on the way back, it was clearing and revealed incredible points of light shining through the old oaks.  I am indeed fortunate to live where I do. 

According to recent travel magazines the nearby city is ranked number one in the US and number two in the world.  I don't think that is possible, but then I don't live in the city or understand how these ratings are determined.  I suppose the habitats of marshes and maritime forests and beaches and the historic aspects make it so popular.  

Who would have thought though that this place that I call home now would be a top ranked destination?  Thank goodness, our little island is still in low profile. But I wonder how long it will take before the crush of development heads this way.  I hope a long time.  So far drugs haven't been a huge problem out here and crime is low.  I wonder how long that will last.  We are secluded which is either a good thing or not.  And I am not a gun toter which I view as a good thing.  The further I can get away from all of the city's problems with crime and drugs, the happier I am.  

Since I got back from Virginia,  I have felt much at peace.  We managed to get all the plants into the greenhouses before the freeze.  And the actual freeze was minor here with most of the plants surviving, except for a few annuals that were on their last legs anyway.  The egg plant died but the peppers weren't affected by the freeze.  The winter crops are growing.  And we surely did need this heavy rain today.  

At times, I still feel isolated from people. My isolation is an old pattern, no doubt from being around heavy drinking and alcoholism as a child.  I work on my tendency to isolate by going to meetings, heading to the barn to ride, to the gym or to the marina, and getting together with a few friends for dinner or lunch.  I know the old pattern and that what I tell myself is not necessarily the best thing when it comes to dealing with people. 

Wednesday is our wedding anniversary.  We are going to dinner and a movie. For Thanksgiving, it will be the two of us, although we may go visit some friends in the afternoon.  I think that Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays are hard on those who don't have family. But there are many people out there who feel the same.  And some of those have a lot of family but the feeling of apartness is still there.  Filling the empty hole within takes work. 

So I am wishing you a day of thanks for those that you have in your life and good memories of those that aren't with you.  Peace and love.  

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

I am not in·val·id

I am home from my journey. And I must say that the celebration of life far exceeded any that I could have imagined. There were many people there, some I knew but had not seen for decades and some that I had not met before.  Each person that I talked with had fond memories of my cousin.  I heard from them that he was a good neighbor, friend, golf partner, party guy back in the day, and highly regarded within his profession.

His wife did a fantastic job of having old photos scattered about.  And the memory book in which each person wrote of their remembrances of my cousin was touching.

But the reading of a letter to all of us by his wife was the most profound. She read about what their life had been like and that he wanted us to know that he was not an invalid nor was he in·val·id in any way during his illness.  And his words: "And so--I was not and am not an invalid. No one has to be. Invalid is an illusion. If you ever find yourself labelled as such, try to invalidate the judgment and seize the opportunity to discover your personal light to help heal every particle and cell on this planet. Start with granting yourself Forgiveness, Peace, and Unconditional Love: these qualities lead to physical and spiritual healing."

So I am glad that I went. I am glad that I shared laughter in memories of him. I feel as if the afternoon was filled with goodness--good people, good times, good food, good memories.

I will keep remembering his words that I am not in·val·id.  I will call that up when I feel small and cast aside in some ways. No I am not in·val·id.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you. ~Walt Whitman

Friday, November 7, 2014

A Backup Plan

I am on my way to Virginia and will soon be back in my home state. Tomorrow is the celebration of my cousin's life. I am not sure how things will go, but I am glad to know that I can leave if necessary. I talked to his wife last night and she had been drinking. So if things get going too much tomorrow with the booze, I am prepared to drive away. 

I have learned over the years of dealing with alcoholism that having a backup plan is really essential in taking care of my self. I used to be caught unaware and endured endless drunken parties because my wife and I drove together. She would want to stay for more drinking, and I would comply, only to be miserable. Nothing good comes from hanging around when people get out of control with their drinking. So I know that I don't have to stay.

Tomorrow is going to be difficult for his wife. She misses him incredibly and was crying on the phone last night. She wants me to take a lot of family items back with me, such as the family bible and his mother's antique dolls. She kept saying "I have to get rid of this stuff from his family." My family revered antiques and family history. That reverence was passed on to me. I will gladly be the caretaker for these remnants of a family that has died out, except for me. And eventually all that has been passed to me will go to an antique auction or to the historical society in my home town. 

So my plan is to show up and be of help where I can. I feel compassion for the living who miss their loved ones. I am glad that she feels his spirit around her. I have felt that same feeling with recent deaths. And then, their spirit moves on when I have accepted their death and feel at peace. I am hoping for that acceptance and peace in the days ahead for her.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Another week gone before I can blink


The weather has finally turned to fall here.  I was out on the boat for several days this week and have to say that it was something that I have missed.  The boat is my sanctuary, my place to get away from anything complicated. Sometimes there are unexpected visitors who just pass by and say "hello".

The only complication that I have had in the last week was having a kidney stone which was a terrible pain.  I've not had the pleasure of dealing with that before and hope to not have one again.  I went to the ER because the pain came on suddenly late in the evening.  And I could not stop vomiting after each wave of pain.  Anyway, I am okay now.  The ER doc told me it was like the pain experienced by women in childbirth.  I have a new appreciation for that level of pain.

The winter garden is finally in.  It is a great relief to have the tired summer plants removed and the winter ones in the ground.  It takes a lot of work to maintain things around here.  The older we get the more it seems to take too.

The service for my friend and mentor was a high Catholic funeral mass. I had just gotten out of the ER and was still feeling dopey from the pain medications they had given me.  When the priest said that my friend was gone forever from this life--laughter gone, voice gone, smiles gone--well, I had to smile because I have voice messages on my phone wishing me a happy birthday last year and other messages that I like to listen to.  And I have the memories of our time spent together.  Gone from sight is true but living on in my memory as long as possible.

Today, we are going to an oyster roast which should be a good time.  It's the first one of the season.  We are enjoying all that Fall brings. We have had several fires in the outdoor fireplace, and last night had dinner on the deck sitting around the fire.  Life is going smoothly right now.  I am glad that there is peace and quiet in my little world.  I keep hoping that will extend outward as I do my part to convey the happiness that I feel inside.

Sunday, October 12, 2014


Yesterday was the Al-Anon Fun Day which turned out to be a great event.  I was incredibly inspired by the speakers who shared their story.  One was an alcoholic, in AA recovery for 23 years.  The other was an Al-Anon father who took all of us through his journey of the 12 steps. It was powerful stuff.

I think that having these opportunities for people to come together for most of a day, enjoy a great lunch, and listen to inspiring speakers is a great thing.  I got to meet so many people that I hadn't talked with before.  And there was a little memorial set up for a couple of long-timers in the program, including my friend, who died this year.  In fact, the day was dedicated to them which touched my heart.

Because of teaching sailing, going to the gym, sailing, riding and attending meetings, I haven't had much time to be as current on blogs as I would like.  I sometimes think that my heart isn't in this anymore because I stay so incredibly busy.  It's not the running type of busy that I once did, but I am passionately enjoying just about everything that I do.  However, I have to say that I will be glad when I have a few less things on my plate. I am juggling a lot of stuff here lately.  And I prefer to have less scheduled activities and more free time.  I know that I am not going to volunteer for any more things to do in the immediate future!

Once again, it appears that the days are slipping past so quickly.  I wish that they would slow down.  Today we have been putting together another green house for all the plants that will have to come inside before cold weather hits.  With temperatures still in the 80's, I don't know when we will have a cold snap, but I don't want some of the beautiful plants to die.  And the garden is still in a state of disarray, but I do have the fall plants that I hope to get in one day this week.  I have been saying that now for two weeks!

I am going to my cousin's memorial service in Virginia in another month.  I am not looking forward to going, largely because he has been dead since June 2013 and having a service now seems a bit late.  I feel badly that he did not have an obituary so few people even knew that he died.  But I will make the drive up there because I think it is the right thing to do.  I suppose this will be more of a celebration of his life which is good.  I hope that his wife will manage to stay sober because she has been drinking quite a bit since he died.  Her drunken phone calls to me were not ones that I liked, but I listened to her until I couldn't anymore and then said good-bye.  I have few expectations for this.  I will keep an open mind and see what happens.

I hope that you are enjoying some of the Fall weather where you are.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Released this morning from all pain

During the darkest, most terrifying time of my life, an older man took my calls 24/7, helped me to think through my choices before acting rashly, listened to the rage and heartbreak that seemed bottomless, met with me when I was melting down, occasionally reminded me to get off my pity pot, and loved me fiercely through it all. He was fond of saying that he was a 19 year old spirit trapped in a broken-down body. This morning, he was released from that broken-down body. I am so happy for him, that his suffering is ended. But, I will miss him terribly. I have saved the emails and even the voice messages on my phone.  And I can read or listen to those to recall his presence.  And his voice remains in my head, recalling the last time I talked to him.

Today, in celebration of my friend's life, I will do my best to seize the day, even though my back is in agony this morning.  I will remind myself that memories are made of small things as well as those occasions that are momentous. I will be grateful instead of stuck in fear or impatience.  I know that my friend is part of a great energy swirling around.  We came together out of a connection, felt deep inside.  And that connection we felt has made me aware of how much joy and gratitude I have in my life.  Rest easy, my friend.

Friday, October 3, 2014


My friend and mentor is dying. I went to see him today at the Hospice Center, knowing that his death will come very soon. He was unresponsive. I have read that hearing is the last sense to go, so I talked to him and read one of my favorite poems to him.

His birthday is in another week so I read Dylan Thomas's Poem in October. I remember how this poem touched something deep inside me when I first read it years ago. It has been a poem for me to gauge the passing of my years. My thirtieth year to heaven is long gone but these words still ring true:

"My birthday began with the water- 
Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name 
Above the farms and the white horses 
And I rose And walked abroad in shower of all my days...." 

Sitting next to my friend and watching his breathing in and out, made me think about what lies beyond death. I told him that I would see him on the other side. I don't know what the other side will be, but I know what I would like it to be. It would be what I experienced this week on the boat.

My ideal would be to see the sun rise over the ocean, as it pushed back the night and painted the sea with silver and gold, shimmering like diamonds on the surface. The way it flooded the dunes with an ambient magical light that was warm and beautiful, bouncing off the clouds.  I watched the dolphins cruise by and the seagulls fly overhead.  I watched the formations of pelicans soar on the thermal air currents as they flew in front of the waves.  I watched the dogs run through the surf wagging their tails and admired the reflection of the vast sky overhead in the tidal pools.  I admired the way the clouds changed color as the sun rose and how they drifted over the sea slowly and languidly changing shape and form.  I listened to the birds singing in the trees and marveled at how many wildflowers were blooming and how they covered the dunes.  I was uplifted to see the butterflies migrate down the beach, and the sound of crickets was music to my soul.  I appreciated life at the moment because it was beautiful and meaningful to me.  

So I don't  know what Heaven looks like and do not deny or accept how others see it.  But when I looked around and above this morning and felt the experience I had right then in that moment, the peace it gave me, I believe I saw my Heaven all around me.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

In Hunt Country

I flew up to the western part of Virginia on Thursday. I was born in the Tidewater area but hold this part of the state in a special place in my memory too. During college I hiked through the mountains, rode horses, slept in pastures, and went to some great parties at some fine homes. 

I am particularly fond of the beauty of the foothills of the Blue Ridge in the fall.  Today and yesterday I drove along country roads where the leaves were changing. I saw hayfields being cut and others being raked for hay that is rolled into bales and covered with plastic. The fields are framed by black fences with the occasional rock borders. Vineyards dotted the countryside. It is breathtaking in an old colonial way that harkens to a time before there was urban sprawl. 

My parents brought me to some fine old Virginia schools when I was a child. We toured Washinton and Lee, the University of Virginia, and Hampton-Sydney. I marveled at Robert E. Lee's horse, Traveler, whose hide was stuffed and enclosed in a glass case at the Lee Museum on the campus of Washington and Lee. I looked at the recumbent statue of the old General himself. 

Later, I marveled at the incredible horses at some of the shows in Warrenton, Upperville, and Middleburg. I had crushes on several young horse women, and eventually made love for the first time near a lake on one of the farms in the area. We spent the entire weekend unclothed (or so it seemed),  snuggling under sleeping bags at night. It was a time of great exploration in many ways. 

So the area is filled with good memories. But nothing stays the same. Now some of the estates have been divided and developed with fake mansions in the hay fields. The main highways are lined with strip malls, fast food joints, hotels, and all the other evidence of modern times.  The great battlefields of the Civil War are surrounded by sprawl. I couldn't help but think of the many remains that still lie in old graves or in the woods and fields and under pavement in the area. I wonder what my great grandfather would think if he could see the battlefields now. Would he be horrified or enthralled at the changes?

Now I am at the airport waiting to fly home. Virginia was my home and will remain a home in my memory. But the island where I live is now where my heart lies with its estuaries and marshes, dense subtropic woodlands, and soft humid air. I am looking forward to seeing my love, my animals, and my land. 

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Be the change you want to see in meetings and in life

Today is the first hint of fall that we have had here.  We awoke to a temperature of 67 F.  Now the windows are open and the whole house fan is circulating fresh air throughout.  The skies are blue and clear of clouds.  It is an invigorating morning.

Yesterday, I attended the district meeting and heard a lady talk about how she is being bullied in the rooms of Al-Anon by "big men and old ladies".  She went on a while with a rant about how she felt unsafe at some meetings. When asked by the chairperson what she wanted to be done, she replied, "I want to feel safe and to go to meetings where no bullying occurs."  I talked with her afterwards and invited her to come to the meetings that I attend, saying that I know they are healthy.  (Even though there are big men and old ladies at some of these). Sadly, I quickly found in my conversation with her that she is a bit unhinged.

People with outside issues (those who have problems other than alcoholism in a relative or friend) are in the rooms.  And some of them need more than the program has to offer.  I know that it's especially easy for me to look for fault in others and in meetings.  But I know that by working the steps and traditions, I have learned that not every meeting is healthy and that sometimes members have emotional and mental health issues that need attention by a professional.  I have been to a lot of meetings in the district and have had only a couple of experiences in which I thought the traditions were seriously being violated.

Everyone deserves to have meetings where they feel safe.  I advocate for being the change that I want to see at a meeting.  I don't hesitate to speak to someone after the meeting if I think that a meeting can be improved.  I do this in as respectful a way as possible.  I don't want to nitpick or be an Al-Anon policeman. However, I do believe that respect and compassion need to be extended to all who attend.  Talking over someone else,  bringing in non-conference approved literature (like the Bible or AA literature), talking about rehab centers, or giving advice (i.e. "You should do ______" or "You need to go to therapy", etc.) are not only confusing to newcomers but break the traditions of the program.

One of the fellows I sponsor is beginning to see that the rose colored glasses he was wearing are not working as well.  He has asked me about feeling anxious in some meetings and finding that some people are rubbing him the wrong way. I think that we all discover that people in recovery have plenty of "warts" and shortcomings.  When I find that a controlling person is irritating me, it's because I have the same shortcoming of controlling behavior.  The old adage "If you spot it, you've got it" applies over and over whether in recovery or not.

I'm going to head outside now, do a bit of work in the yard, and head to the hospital this afternoon to visit my first sponsor who is not doing well.  And then, I'll head to the boat to enjoy the rest of the afternoon doing some varnishing and reading the newspaper.  The day is too beautiful to spend being inside too long. Hoping your day is bright and shiny.

Another year is fast approaching. Go be that starving artist you’re afraid to be. Open up that journal and get poetic finally. Volunteer. Suck it up and travel. You were not born here to work and pay taxes. You were put here to be part of a vast organism to explore and create. Stop putting it off. The world has much more to offer than what’s on 15 televisions at TGI Fridays. Take pictures. Scare people. Shake up the scene. Be the change you want to see in the world. ~Jason Mraz