Home alone

My wife left on Friday for a week long vacation in New England.  She is staying on one of the Cape's islands with some friends from graduate school.  This is a much needed vacation for her.  I've talked to her several times since she left, and she is happy and relaxed.  That is enough to make me so very happy too.

In the meantime, since she left, I have been keeping busy with the yard and garden.  Today I went to the boat for a couple of hours.  It felt good to be on board for a little while, and then I had to get home to take care of the animals.  Pandora is fitting in nicely with the other cats.  She is eating well and purrs every time I come near her.

The blueberries are ripe in the garden so I've been eating them every day for about a week.  I've picked several tomatoes as well, and they are ripening on the window sill. And the eggplant are starting to ripen too.  It looks like a good year for the garden. The drip irrigation system helps a lot, and it's on a timer which makes things easy.

I am going to see my father-in-law tomorrow.  Hopefully, he will feel good enough to be pushed along in his wheel chair outside.  He is so very thin and fragile.  My wife and I can sense that his death is not far away.  I don't think that he ever really got over his wife's death.  But it is father's day, and I want to spend some time with the old man.  

Next week, I will be back at meetings.  I'm chairing one on the newest Al-Anon book Many Voices, One Journey. I'm going to focus on the period from1925-1950, the time of active alcoholism and isolation that started founders, Lois and Bill Wilson, on the road to recovery.  Who knew that Al-Anon used to be called "Non-Alcoholics Anonymous," or that sometimes women whose husbands started drinking again were asked to stop coming to meetings, or that there was a major fight over whether to allow adult children of alcoholics to join the fellowship? 

That's about it from here.  I hope that your weekend is going well. 

Good questions

Well, I received more questions after the "deadline" and will answer those soon. I hope that you will visit Lou at Subdural Flow II, Mary Christine at Being Sober, and Ron at An Addict in My Son's Bedroom to ask them questions, also.

I said that I would say what the "winning" question was. That is difficult. I will say that the one that was most thought-provoking and that you made the most comments about was that asked by Irish Friend of Bill. It's easy to think unkindly of alcoholics because most of us have been hurt in some way by them. So to be asked to look at where they do themselves a disservice made me mindful of my part too. And I am not devoid of self-centered ego. So to write an answer that balances my part with the inventory of the alcoholic was tricky. I felt a huge "Whew" escape my lips after reading Irish's question. So, Irish, I will be sending you a gift of appreciation.

One of the things that I learned from your comments is that Al-Anon WSO will be publishing a book on Intimacy in Alcoholic Relationships. Here is what WSO wants to include:
"The 2011 World Service Conference gave conceptual approval for “a new piece of literature on intimacy in general, including sexual intimacy, in alcoholic relationships.” The Literature Committee is seeking sharings from Al-Anon/Alateen members for possible use in this piece.

Alcoholism is an illness that warps and seriously damages our ability to form and maintain intimate relationships. In recovery, we find many ways to connect to others, and learn to replace fear of intimacy with a healthy set of boundaries. We hope this piece can reflect the wide variety of experiences our members have faced regarding intimacy, in many different types of relationships. Intimacy takes many forms, including emotional, physical, and spiritual. Sharings do not need to be limited to sexual intimacy. However, we do want this piece to cover issues around sexual intimacy more thoroughly than any other previous Al-Anon literature, without being either too vague or too explicit and offensive. Please share your struggles as well as your successes.

Intimate relationships, or the lack of them, can be connected to feelings of shame, insecurity, fear, and guilt. Other topics that could be covered in this piece include sexual compulsion, abuse, infidelity, and promiscuity, as well as hope, trust, safety, joy, emotional and physical closeness, and a sense of feeling cared for as well as supported.

Some questions to consider:
• How have the dynamics of the family illness of alcoholism affected my perceptions of all types of intimacy, including sexual?
• To what extent, if any, do I accept responsibility for the loss of intimacy in my relationships?
• In what ways have issues of intimacy within an alcoholic relationship affected my other relationships?
• When, if ever, have I used sex as a substitute for real intimacy? What was the result?
• How did I feel when someone I cared about tried to use sex to control or manipulate me? How did I feel
when I did the same to others?
• Describe the impact that issues of self-worth or other character defects have had on my intimate
relationships with my Higher Power, the alcoholic, family members, friends, or myself.
• How has building a relationship with my Sponsor and learning to trust helped me expand my capacity
for intimacy?
• What other Al-Anon tools have I used to rebuild trust and intimate relationships?"

This should be a good read! And it is a topic that needs to be written about and discussed. I am submitting several of my writings to it. I hope that you will consider doing the same.

A head full

I am sneezing and sniffling this morning with a head cold.  It rained all day yesterday and into the early hours this morning.  I took advantage of the bad weather to stay indoors and rest.  I don't like being sick, but this will pass.

I think that today I'm going to stay inside today and continue to recuperate.  I have reading to do for my class.  And I've been absorbed with David Lipsky's transcript of time spent with David Foster Wallace, Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself.  It's hard to imagine that DFW would want this fellow following him around, asking questions over and over for weeks.  It surely would have gotten on my last nerve. When Lipsky tells Wallace: “I think you still feel you’re smarter than other people. You make a point of holding back,”.  Wallace says, “Boy, that would make me a real asshole, wouldn’t it? The parts of me that used to think I was different or smarter or whatever, almost made me die.” Amen.

I found that Wallace's hope to get laid during book signings of Infinite Jest was sad.  He thought that someone would come up and ask him to go back to their hotel, but it didn't happen:
“I didn’t get laid on this tour. The thing about fame is interesting, although I would have liked to get laid on the tour and I did not….People come up, they kind of slither up during readings or whatever. But it seems like, what I want is not to have to take any action. I don’t want to have to say, ‘Would you like to come back to the hotel?’ I want them to say, ‘I am coming back to the hotel. Where is your hotel?’ None of ‘em do that….I just can’t stand to look like I’m actively trading on this sexually. Even though of course that’s—I would be happy to do that.”

And his remark about hard drugs was good: “If I’d ever been a heroin addict, I don’t think I’d have a problem saying it. It’s weird -- I, like -- I mean, I’m somebody who spent most of his life in libraries. I just, um, never lived that kind of dangerous life. I wouldn’t even stick a needle in my arm.” I get that completely.

And about drinking: “I was sort of a joyless drinker. I mean, I think I just used it for anesthesia…. And I saw that there’s this whole image of the writer as somebody who lives hard and drinks hard. You know, is found in amusing postures in gutters and stuff…. And I think when you are a kid, you know, and you don’t have any kind of idea of how to be what you want to be, you fall for these sort of cultural models. And the big thing about it is, I don’t have the stomach or nervous system for it.” Me either.

And then finally I'll add this quote on being alone: “When you’re meeting a whole lot of new people and having to do things you’re in—I’m in a constant low-level state of anxiety. Which produces adrenaline, and kind of shuts down—there’s a difference between short-term, people-based anxiety. And sort of deep, existential, you know, fear, that you feel all the way down to your butthole. And that, I, that’s…that’s what I’ll have when I’m alone.”  I can understand but am glad that I haven't had the "butthole" fear in a long while.

For right now, I'm going to take some cold medicine and drift off into la-la land.  I've let DFW's words be the profound ones today.  Getting laid, being smart, drugs, drinking, being alone--lots to contemplate with a head that hurts.  See you on the well side.

Book list, classes and parallel universes

I am back from class, and it's late.  I signed up for another course--this one on Seamanship.  It's basic information but helpful in preparation for Sea School which I plan to attend some time in the near future.  I am going to go for a Master's license of as much tonnage as I am allowed with my qualifying sea time.  Most probably, that will be a 50 ton vessel.  One would think that after so many years of school, that I would be sick of it by now.  But it seems that I am a born student of something, whether it is marine science, marine piloting, seamanship, or the Twelve Steps.

Tonight, we talked a bit about the recent Costa Concordia wreck on the reef off the coast of Italy.  It seems to eerily echo what happened with the Titanic.  A misjudgment and human error resulted in a terrible tragedy, although the Concordia incident was not nearly as horrible as that of the Titanic.  I've read a few books on the Titanic sinking, and every one sends chills through me.

Reading starts my day and also ends it.  I read a few blogs and read the newspaper (which takes all of 15 minutes in this town) in the morning.  In the evening, I read more blogs, read class material, and finish up the day with the latest book.

Reading has been a great escape for me over the years.  I still lose myself in books, just as I did as a kid.  Back then, it was a good way to avoid having to go to the dinner table.  It was a way to separate myself from my father when he was in his cups.  Now, it's a way to learn about people, adventures, and life experiences that I find fascinating.  Maybe there is still the escapism in books.  I don't really care.  All I know is that in the few hours a day that I spend reading, I come away a better person for it.

Here's a list of what's stacked on our bedside tables:

Pack of Two: The Intricate Bond between People and Dogs by Caroline Knapp. Ms. Knapp lost her parents, sobered up and adopted Lucille who provided not only companionship but love.

Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson. An honest look at a genius who changed so much in technology.  A revolutionary of a different ilk.

Inside of a Dog by Alexandra Horowitz.  You can tell that we like reading about dogs.  Knowing how dogs view the world gives me hope that humans may one day be as civilized.

Fabric of the Cosmos by Brian Greene. Here is the question of this book: "What is reality?". Lots of information on physics for the non-theorist. That's good. String theory and its hypotheses of ten spatial dimensions and one time dimension, parallel universes, and time travel make me aware that "Beam me up, Scotty" may indeed be possible.

The Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks.  Passion, sadness, love, rage, sex--lots to think about and to quiet the mind.

Greedy Bastards by Dylan Ratigan.  Bank bailouts, outsourcing, corporate greed, oil, health care--I need to read Rumi after reading this.  And also think about a parallel universe.  Che (see below) had a solution but not one that I like.

Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs.  Another type of parallel universe that isn't pleasant. Heavy stuff about an adolescent who was passed from one dysfunctional family to another.

Blue Nights by Joan Didion.  Not as good as the Year of Magical Thinking, but another look at death and the fears of getting old.

Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life by Jon Lee Anderson.  After 800 pages, I will know more about Cuban history, the revolution,  and the enigmatic Che than I want to, but social injustice is something that interests me.  I am ploughing through it, even though the sociopathic behavior and the mass murder of so many is hard to take.  Not a parallel universe to Steve Jobs. And not the solution to the Greedy Bastards.

I'm getting ready to head off to read for an hour.  It feels like a good night to read about dogs.  Here's hoping for insight.

What books are you reading? Give a little synopsis if you want. 

A sanctuary

Christmas day has come and gone.  My father used to say that "it's as far away now as it will ever be." He was full of those kinds of sayings that would make the child Syd sad.  Now I realize that he was just being real.  And I remember a lot of those sayings now and smile.

It was a quiet Christmas day.  My wife went to her parents' house on Christmas Eve night and just got home this morning.  I went over there yesterday to have Christmas Day dinner with the parents.  We ate leftovers and watched them open Christmas cards.  It's interesting how they get a hundred cards every year.  Sending cards has become somewhat of a lost art.  I remember how carefully my mother would choose the cards and address them.  We haven't sent cards in years. Somehow, e-cards just don't quite have the same effect as getting a handwritten note from someone in a card.

I went over to visit some friends early last evening.  They had their family for Christmas dinner.  It was nice to enjoy their company and the lively conversation about politics, books, and movies.  My old girl, Stella, who died on November 27 was in a short movie that they filmed.  I'm going to be getting a copy of the movie and the raw footage of her.  I could feel the tears in my eyes when I saw her in the movie.  It was her first and last time on a couch.  Her part was to be on the couch and be called into the kitchen by one of the characters.  She had never been on a couch before so I had to coax her up on the couch.  She must have thought that I'd lost my mind--"A couch, really?? What is he doing??" She was such a trooper.

Later, I came home, turned on the Christmas lights, took the dogs for a walk in the rain, and read some more from Hemingway's Boat by Paul Hendrickson.  It's about his sport fishing boat "Pilar" that he had custom built, fished on through three wives, the Nobel Prize, and his ultimate ruin.  "Pilar" was his sanctuary which I can identify with in so many ways.  In Hendrickson's words, "Pilar" was:

"A place to weather the storms of professional criticism and escape the anxieties of broken marriages and ruined friendships. On her deck, he entertained celebrities, propositioned women, wielded his firearms, saved swimmers from sharks and relaxed with his children.  Pilar represented this little encapsulated existence where for a long weekend, or just an afternoon, he could get away from the pressures of the writing desk."

I think we all need something like "Pilar", whether it is a boat, the woods, exercise, meetings, rooms filled with people or just sitting in meditation.  A sanctuary.  Yes, we all need that.

It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.  ~Ernest Hemingway

Magical Thinking

We are at the boat until tomorrow. The weather is warm so everyone is out and about in tee shirts.  It feels great to be back on board after a couple of months of sanding and painting.  I have missed spending time on her just relaxing instead of working.  I know that being totally land based is not what I want to do. I am drawn to the water and feel most content here.

Tomorrow we are having the parents and caregivers over for lunch. They seemed happy to be coming over. We will have the Christmas dinner early and have another one on Christmas day. I feel much better knowing that they will be coming over. Somehow it is comforting us to have them be present. This is all the family there is.  But it is okay.

I have been reading a couple of books that by many standards would be sad--The Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights by Joan Didion. Neither has been gut wrenching for me because somehow her narrative feels so distant and her writing so emotionless.  Perhaps I could identify most with her desire for seclusion when the apartment was filled with people after the death of her husband. Just knowing someone was there would be enough but having to interact would be difficult.  She writes something here that seemed so true: 

"The worst days will be the earliest days. We imagine that the moment to most severely test us will be the funeral, after which this hypothetical healing will take place. When we anticipate the funeral we wonder about failing to "get through it," rise to the occasion, exhibit the "strength" that invariably gets mentioned as the correct response to death. We anticipate needing to steel ourselves then for the moment: will I be able to greet people, will I be able to leave the scene, will I be able even to get dressed that day? We have no way of knowing that this will not be the issue. We have no way of knowing that the funeral itself will be anodyne, a kind of narcotic regression in which we are wrapped in the care of others and the gravity and meaning of the occasion. Nor can we know ahead of the fact (and here lies the heart of the difference between grief was we imagine it and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the void, the very opposite of meaning, the relentless succession of moments during which we will confront the experience of meaninglessness itself.” --Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

The void is something that I have feared as long as I can remember. But I see that the fear of loss is not something so huge to me at the moment. I lived through my parents deaths. I have gotten through the deaths of friends and beloved animals. There are days when we each are brought to our knees. Yet, something within still seeks the positive, the light, if you will. I feel hopeful that all will be basically okay as long as I am willing to seek that light.