These days

I am okay. Still here and doing relatively well. Between gardening, riding, sailing and going to meetings, I stay busy.  Life has a familiar groove to it.

Getting through the worst heat of the summer has been difficult. The humidity is stifling.  I have been going to the barn to ride in the evening when the sea breeze comes up and no one else is around.  I prefer the quiet times there and going to the ring or to the fields when the sun is setting.

The garden is in the waning phase so I'm getting ready to plant some fall crops. It produced well, but the heat eventually beats down everything, except for egg plant and okra.  We put up over 75 quarts of tomato sauce for winter.  It was a two day long ordeal but we managed to get through it, although both of us did not want to see another tomato.

Sailing is still the most fantastic getaway for me.  I go out for several days a month, dropping the anchor and staying overnight.  It is relaxing in a way that's hard to describe. I sleep better on the boat with the gentle rocking.  Even though it's hot on land, the island near the ocean where I anchor has a great breeze. I sleep comfortably with the ports and hatches open.

I celebrated ten years in Al-Anon on August 13.  It is hard for me to remember all the turmoil of the years before I went and the moments that propelled me to attend my first meeting. I don't dwell on that time much.  I have a core group of two meetings I attend each week and have been adding a third on as often as I can.  We all remain imperfect, struggling to get along with others and especially with the alcoholic.

One of the greatest things that I have learned is to have compassion and empathy for all who are struggling with the disease of alcoholism, whether it is the alcoholic or the person affected by someone else's drinking. And the same for those who are struggling with life and the circumstances of it.  I don't judge others for their choices or struggles. And I have learned to not take what others do or say personally.  My hurt feelings about something unkind said to me have diminished from days to an hour.  I hope to get that to a millisecond, as the feeling flows through me.  Resentments are killers of happiness. No need to hold onto someone else's bad feelings.

I don't feel much of an urge to write anymore.  But I am going to keep the blog going, perhaps only visiting once in a while.  All that I have written about here with such urgency in the past seems much less so now.

C. and I have a remarkable love for each other.  She picked up her ten year chip a week before I did.  We have grown in peace of mind, love, respect and compassion for each other.  And we are growing old together.  Every day is one to hold onto.

Life changes in the instant

It has been a week of contrasts. Going on the boat for a few days did as it was intended, putting my mind at ease and getting me into a relaxed groove that has lasted for several days.

And then last night, I happened to read on line more hatred spewed about the refugees fleeing from Syria and ISIS.  The amazing number of fearful people here in the U.S. who worry that they will be targeted makes me wonder how any of them get out of bed, get on the highway and drive to a job.  There are so many things that can take our life at any moment.  And yet we seem to be utterly terrified at the prospect of people from another country taking asylum in this country. It is baffling to me.

I heard last night that a friend just found out that he has kidney cancer and will undergo surgery in three days to remove one of his kidneys.  His wife was in Africa and flew home to be with him. And so as Joan Didion wrote: "Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant." This week has been one of lives being changed in an ordinary instant. And all that I can do is go about my life, keeping my days as usual as possible, reaching out to those who are having problems.  And loving as best I know how.

I'm not telling you to make the world better, because I don't think that progress is necessarily part of the package. I'm just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave's a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that's what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it. — Joan Didion

Keeping the focus on myself

I have had some good meetings lately with one of the fellows I sponsor.  He is learning how to get his life back after spending years focusing on his son who is an alcoholic and addict. I think that learning to focus on what I am doing and not on the alcoholic was a major turning point for me in my own journey of recovery.

I was told many years ago by a psychiatrist to focus on me and not on my wife. I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. It sounded selfish to focus on me, and I didn't understand how to put it into practice so I ignored the idea. Then, in Al-Anon, it finally came together for me. I understood that I didn't have much of a life because I was focusing every molecule of effort and attention on my wife.

It took me a while to see that focusing on me wasn't selfish. Instead,  it was about my being my own person and my chance at getting my life back. If I don't focus on me, then I too easily lose myself in others. I make them my HP. I also will not address what bothers me or my character defects if I put the focus on someone else.

Our relationship has had many ups and downs over the years, but I have to say that since being in recovery, both of us have come to love each other more than ever. And I am not the angry, resentful, fearful and sad person that I used to be. By taking my own inventory--looking at what my part is--I learned that I was filled with resentment and fear. Now I inventory what I am feeling daily. It is second nature to look at my part. And then I can take appropriate actions to remedy what I have done.

One of the things that the fellow I sponsor is trying to do is have fun.  He has had a lot of trouble extricating himself from the drama surrounding his alcoholic son.  He actually has a hard time thinking of anything positive about himself and can't seem to grasp the concept of doing something fun for himself.

I remember so well that when I was stuck in my misery before recovery that I hated for anyone to ask me what I did for fun.  I would hesitate, feel uncomfortable and generally answer by saying that I liked cycling, running, reading, photography, and gardening. But mostly, I liked to work. The other things that I did were my way of escaping from home and work.  I think some of my happiest times were actually when I was at sea on research vessels and away from home and the lab. 

It feels good today to be able to answer enthusiastically about the things that I like to do.  I finally found more balance in my life where the focus is on what I want to do and not what I have to do.

I am focusing on me when I take time in the morning to have coffee sitting out in the yard and relax instead of going through a mental checklist of what I must get done.  I am focusing on me when I decline to be on boards and committees out of a sense of obligation.  I am focusing on me when I go on the boat for a few days to smell the ocean and listen to the waves and wind. I am focusing on me when I can go to the barn and brush the horses, listening to them breathe or eat hay. 

I know now that my wife and I are individuals and not bound to spend every waking moment together.  We worked together in graduate school and at the same laboratory. We love each other a lot.  But I know that I am not responsible for her happiness.  It's not up to me to solve every problem that she has or to tell her what to do.  

So, if you are thinking that you don't have much of a life because of alcoholism being so prevalent in it, maybe it's time to focus on creating your own bliss and focusing on what you want to do.  Don't put your life on hold waiting for the alcoholic/addict to come around. They either will or they won't. What matters is that each day can be special for you, if you choose to make it so.

Challenges to meet

I can't seem to find much time to write here.  Every day is filled with something new to do and challenges to meet. So here's what we have been doing to live life on life's terms.

I spent a day at the local medical university and found out that I am okay. My CT scan indicated "no intracranial pathology".  Good words...but if only they knew! Seriously, it's good to know that I can do Cross Fit without worrying. Got checked with blood work and a general physical too.

I am concerned because my wife went in for her mammogram and has to have a biopsy on Tuesday. The docs are 98% sure that this is just a benign thing, but both of us will be much happier once it is over. Please keep her in your thoughts.

We had a glorious afternoon on the small john boat yesterday, traveling to meet up with friends in a nearby creek for lunch.  The day was warm and fun which is what we needed to keep our spirits upbeat.

I have talked with my first sponsor many times since his diagnosis of Stage 4 lung cancer. He has taken his first chemo treatment and isn't feeling so good.  I am hoping his spirits will uplift some.  He admits that he is doing the self-pity behavior now.  I know that whether he decides to continue with the chemo or decides to go into palliative care is his to make. I have read Kathleen's blog Sittin' on a Porch since she started it. I admire her fighting spirit that wants to live life to the fullest since her diagnosis of Stage 4 lung cancer.

Speaking of fighting spirit, I met a fellow the other day who has pancreatic cancer and is now in his fourth experimental treatment.  He has traveled from Tucson to Georgetown University Hospital to participate. This treatment isn't working so he is next going to try another one in Detroit. He wants to live another day so he keeps trying to fight the disease that he knows is going to kill him sooner rather than later.

I don't know what I would do in either case. But I believe that I would want to fight to live. Every day matters in some way or the other.  And if a person can have one more precious day that's good. I think though that quality of life is a big factor. Watching both of my wife's parents waste away in their last few months of life was terrible. I know that my sponsor will make the decision that feels right for him.  We all have challenges to meet and how we work through them is deeply personal and individualistic.

I have been hoping to get around to commenting on more blogs. You all write a lot!  I don't have it in me at the moment.  Too much gardening to do, people to think about, waters to roam--indoors is not my favorite place to be as spring comes to the Lowcountry. Soon enough, it will be too hot to enjoy being outside during the day.

So I'll leave you with some photos from the past week.

Last rays of the sun as night is coming on

Spectacular sunset 

My good girl on the boat

Landscaping almost done

We have spent several evenings out here relaxing

If you want what we have......

With so many people in pain from the misery of living with an alcoholic, I wonder what it actually takes for them to eventually realize that they too have been affected by the disease.  Yet, day in and day out, they struggle along as a caregiver, angry spouse, unhappy person who puts on so many masks to the world so the world won't know how much pain and sadness the person has.

Leah Odze Epstein in Drinking Diaries tells what she found at a meeting and what she didn't find:

There, in that room, I finally found people who got it–who felt like me, alone and alienated most of the time, except there, in that room, when they told their stories. I felt those people could help me, if I let them. But I couldn’t bring myself to go back to that depressing room.

Nearly a decade later, plagued by some of the same issues that seem to haunt adult children of alcoholics (control issues? Check. Accept nothing less than perfection? Check. Alienated? Yup), I went to another Al-Anon meeting in the suburbs. Again with the dimly lit room. Again with the hard chairs. Again with the basement. Were we trying to re-create our childhood suffering through the setting? I didn’t get it.

There were only eight of us sitting in a circle, and I was the youngest. No one smoked or drank coffee. The energy in the room was flat. I couldn’t breathe. But I sat there and listened to the forty-something woman with the twisted hands talk about her crippling rheumatoid arthritis and her nightmare mother. I listened to the nearly 300 pound man talk about his bad mother, too. And the woman whose lips barely moved when she, too, spoke of her evil mother.

I never went back to Al-Anon after that. I’m not saying it’s not a lifesaver for many people. I’m sure it is. Still…

Sometimes, I fantasize about the kind of meeting I might like to attend. First off, I wouldn’t call it a meeting. Maybe a Girl’s Night Out. There would be women my age, maybe a bit younger, some a bit older. The women would be smart and funny. Some would have battle scars, but they’d talk about them with humor. Maybe we’d laugh until we cried, sharing our stories, and how we turned out after all that craziness. I picture sitting in a warm cozy place, maybe on a red velvet couch–My fantasy Al-Anon meeting takes place in a restaurant, or a bar.

I know that not all meetings are healthy ones. I have been to many that were not in line with the Traditions. I attended one a couple of days ago in which there was a lot of crosstalk and the main topic was suicide and not those related to alcohol. I shared about how low being affected by my wife's drinking had brought me--to the point where I didn't care if I lived or died and was contemplating my own death.  Sometimes, what we say reaches the ears of someone who needs to hear it, just as I need to hear something that resonates with me.  A lady came up to me afterwards and said that she understood more now about the suicide of her alcoholic brother--how complete loss of hope can bring one to make such a decision.

I know that Al-Anon is a program of attraction rather than promotion.  And I know that there are other ways to get help rather than by working a 12 step program. But if you want people to talk to who are familiar with the disease and its effects on others, why not check it out and see if there is something in it to help you?  Maybe bring a pad if the chairs are too hard. Or bring your own latte.

I get emails from people who say that they get a lot from reading my blog. They write that it helps them to know someone else who has been affected by the disease and worked to recover. And that reading the posts is better than going to Al-Anon.  I don't know about you, but I read a lot of information on alcoholism before I went to Al-Anon and none of it brought me the peace of mind that I now have.  I read books on co-dependence and still I didn't understand how to get free from the years of behavioral patterns or "isms" that seemed to make my life unmanageable.  I don't write as much about alcoholism anymore.  I write about living life on life's terms.  And that, at times, can be wonderful or it can be difficult.

My older blog posts when I first started were about all the issues I had with a newly sober spouse.  I had a lot of issues with understanding what serenity even meant.  I didn't understand what a Higher Power was.  I had no idea of how to "let go", detach with love, or accept others for who they are.  Keeping the focus on myself was meaningless because I had spent so many years focusing on others that I cared about.  I could focus at work, but no one knew how lost I felt on the inside or how sad I was some days.  I had one confidante at work who I talked to mostly about his love for a recovering addict.  I lost a good friend when I told him about the difficulties we were having coping with recovery.

But in all of this turmoil, I knew that if I kept going to meetings, worked the steps, and talked to my sponsor, I would feel better one day.  Misery was truly optional.  And it took me a while before I finally got the idea that I didn't have to focus all of my energy on another person.  I could be my own person and have a life where there was happiness and even serenity.

For those of you who have read this blog or other blogs that focus on recovery, you'll likely find that we have discovered a way of living that isn't about how miserable our lives are.  Most of us have jobs we enjoy or have had successful careers. Most of us have hobbies and activities that are a passion.  Most of us get up in the morning and think about what is good about our lives and are grateful for those we love.  Most of us have discovered that we can handle the ups and downs of this life without falling apart or sinking into self-pity and self-loathing.  We have learned one day at a time to live life on life's terms.

The things that used to bother me aren't nearly as important any more.  I still have my own shortcomings that I work on every day.  I still forget to live in the day rather than project into the future. And I occasionally have an expectation about someone or something.  But for the most part, I am living a much more balanced life than ever before.  I realize that I only have a finite number of years in my life.  And I am grateful for the help of those in Al-Anon who reached out a hand to me and to whom I now offer my own hand in return.

Methodical progression of the living

I have been doing as much busy work as I can over the last few days since Pop died. And in the evening, I fix myself something to eat and then read until I am sleepy.  There is healing in the methodical progression of the day.

Yesterday was the most difficult so far because I looked at a photo of him as a young man of ten years--a school photo in his emblemed blazer and tie, no sign of anything but innocence.  We are so young and then we get to be so old.  In between, we have so many choices on how we live each day.  I feel badly that Pop didn't have much of a choice in the last couple of years.  A nursing home was not his choice. And that hurts my heart.

My wife has been calling several times a day.  She too is feeling sad.  Tomorrow she comes home.  I wish that she were staying in that healing location with the sea and sand a few more days.  I believe that the loss will hit her harder when she comes home.

I am going to pick up all of Pop's things today at the nursing home.  That way the room will be vacated and readied for someone else.  I would like for there to be another way for the sick and aged to live out their final days.  Mom died at home. But Pop's medical condition with late stage liver failure was just too dire for home health care. He needed to be in a place where there was nursing care and a doctor on staff around the clock.  At least, that is what I am telling myself to assuage my guilt.

I think that this morning, I'm going to a meeting.  I have let the fellowship know what is going on.  Once again, the local AA's have not called.  I have heard from a few Al-Anon people, expressing their care and concern.  But this time, I expected nothing based on the lack of response when Mom died. When the funeral staff gave me a little book so that I could write down what people brought to the house in the way of food, etc., I thought inwardly that the book will remain blank.  And so it has.

Death is an uneasy subject to think about. And so much death in such a few months is even harder to imagine.  At the moment, I am really okay with just being by myself, going about my day, listening to the birds, the rain coming down.  It's all okay for me because I have lowered my expectations of humanity.  We are just people trying to get through life until we ourselves die.

Remembering my cousin

My first cousin died this morning. He suffered from a brain tumor for years, and the quality of his life has really been minimal for the last six years, with the last six months being especially bad.  I am glad that he no longer is hovering between life and death.  It was time for him to die because he was not going to be cured.

I feel so much relief that his ordeal is over. I have been anticipating this call for months.  When I talked with his wife, she seemed to be at peace and handling his death calmly.  But I know that her life has just shifted in a monumental way.  Care taking for him all these years and now not having that purpose must be an abrupt change, compounded by her grief and the loss of a man she loved so much.

Although there isn't going to be a memorial service right away, my cousin's wife asked that we remember him in our own way.  So this afternoon,  I went to the garden and thought about the good times that we spent as kids.  We would often hide in the rows of pole beans, chasing each other across the planted field that separated our houses. And that would cause us to get in a lot of trouble with my father who treasured his tomatoes, beans and strawberries.  We often got into trouble of some sort, but we were just being kids. All of that seems like it happened a million years ago at the moment.

So I remembered him, dug potatoes, and picked beans.  Digging through the dark, rich earth passed the time.  And tomorrow, we are having a picnic for some recovery friends. We are going to make potato salad from the ones dug today.  And there will be tossed salad, burgers, brats, baked beans, red rice, and berry pies with ice cream.  The storm has passed by, the winds have ceased, and my cousin has completed his life. It all seems to be peaceful and as it is supposed to be.

An old photo of my cousin as part of the May Day court so many years ago.  I have one of him holding me when I was about a month old.  

Freedom for me

I struggle some days to come up with something to post on this blog.  Nothing much has changed from day to day lately.  My life is fairly predictable at the moment.  I meditate in the morning, read the paper and some blog posts, do something physically challenging (=exercise), go to meetings, visit the boat, spend time with my wife and dogs, meet with sponsees, and read, write in my journal and on this blog.

There is so little drama and chaos at the moment.  I attribute that to inner peace, grace, luck, the way the stars are lined up, retirement--who knows for sure.  I simply accept the peace that has come and am grateful for it.  The feeling of contentment is like drifting on a smooth ocean, lazily aware of what is around me but not concerned about storms or blustery winds or being run over by a huge container ship, or highjacked by pirates.

I've noticed that the posts that get the most comments are those that occur during times of crisis and sadness.  People reach out to lend a steadying voice.  That voice is within me most days now.  I feel it guiding me in my daily life.  Not reacting to annoyances of life with anger or self-pity is a great gift.  The gift has been acquired slowly and requires daily maintenance.  I tend it as I would a delicate plant or one of my beloved dogs.

I still struggle internally with my own demons of rejection and abandonment. But their voices are muted for the most part because I realize that they can be drowned out by new voices of hope, friendship, love, and acceptance.  I feel apart of so much these days.  I have no power struggles, no achievements that I must tout, no one breathing down my neck to produce more.  This feels like freedom to me on all fronts.

The skeleton key unlocks the mind and swings open the door of imagination. A far better place than here A much safer place than there The quintessential somewhere The mystical nowhere The enigmatic anywhere My gift to you - the key to everywhere.
The mortal will find itself lost while the soul always knows the way it is grateful for the darkness and celebrates the day
I can give you peace my peace I give you... but I cannot be your savior or your god - I cannot be the light along your path - I can only give you the lamp and point the way.
The blind will see... the deaf will hear... but those who choose reason will never understand.
Woe to the ones who think they know the answers they will cease to ask the questions that may be their own salvation.
We possess the knowledge of the Universe from conception. Once born we are taught to forget.
If we cannot look out at our world and see our children's vision then we are truly blind we are unable to lead them to paradise.
Even people who are in the dark search for their shadows. Shadows exist only if there is light. We will never find total darkness - not even in death... ...and we always cast a shadow no matter how overcast our skies become. You are never alone."
Do not listen to the voice that shouts to you from behind desks behind podiums behind altars. Do not pay attention to the orators and the opportunists. Do not be distracted by the promises made behind masks. Listen to the quiet. Listen to the whispers as they gently guide you through the assaults of man's absurdities. Listen to the gentle breathing of your mother and lay your head to rest in her peace and in her warm embrace and understand that truth and power lie within you. Breathe silence.
The free bird will always return to the cage sooner or later to seek food and water and the loving hand of it's caretaker. ― M. Teresa Clayton

Low down side

I feel as if I am behind in everything and have little enthusiasm to get much done. I suppose this is my low down side coming out.

I am going through most normal activities this week, but realize that I am dead tired from the trip south.  It must be catching up with me now.  I haven't had much down time since I got back, so I took today as an opportunity to have a nap in the afternoon.  I don't feel much better, but at least I know that I was home and got some rest.

I have been to some incredible meetings over the last few days.  Things that I heard were a reminder of how lives that have been all but ruined can be turned around.  I wonder then why I am feeling this emptiness right now.  One of the things that I do know is that tonight I will do those things that make me feel better: have a good dinner, read, meditate, and get more sleep.  Tomorrow is a chance to start afresh.

My low down side doesn't come out much.  And it passes just as quickly as it comes.  It is nothing to fear, I know.  And I think about this:

I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow and called out, 'It tastes sweet, does it not?' 'You've caught me,' grief answered, 'and you've ruined my business. How can I sell sorrow, when you know it's a blessing? ~Rumi

This being human is a guest house

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi

Birthday night

Tonight,  there were two birthday celebrations at my home group.  One was for a lady with a year, and the other celebrated 19 years. I think that this was a particularly tender meeting.  All of us had a lot to share about life and who we have tried to control and how we have failed in expectations of others. 

The following was a poem shared in one of the cards tonight.  It sums up what it sometimes feels like to live this life and to find a solution that helps to get through it, move through it, and be okay.  

There is no controlling life.

Try corralling a lightning bolt,

containing a tornado. Dam a

stream and it will create a new

channel. Resist, and the tide

will sweep you off your feet.

Allow, and grace will carry

you to higher ground. The only

safety lies in letting it all in –

the wild and the weak; fear,

fantasies, failures and success.

When loss rips off the doors of

the heart, or sadness veils your

vision with despair, practice

becomes simply bearing the truth.

In the choice to let go of your

known way of being, the whole

world is revealed to your new eyes.

Crippling so many of us

I woke up discombobulated this morning.  Bad dreams last night that left me feeling out of sorts: The old abandonment stuff that seems to recycle every few months, bubbling up from some part of the mind that has held onto yesterday's fears.

It takes a few moments to remember that none of the dreams are real.  And the fears, well, those don't have to be made real unless I allow that.  It's best for me to get up and get moving, rather than to lie there and let the mind reel.

All that abandonment stuff seems so real when it plays out in technicolor when I'm asleep.  Maybe it is there with me even when I'm awake, just lurking beneath the surface, ready to come out and wipe away peace of mind.

Once traumatized, do we ever really rid ourselves of the feelings and images that have held such power in the past?  Maybe the point is to not have to rid ourselves of anything but to simply acknowledge the feelings, check the barometer of life on this day, and make a decision on how to proceed.  I found the following from the psychologist, Carl Rogers, to be interesting:

"I sometimes fantasy about what it would mean if a child....never had to disown his feelings in order to be loved. Suppose his parents were free to have and express their own unique feelings, which often would be different from his, and often different between themselves. I like to think of all the meanings that such an experience would have. It would mean that the child would grow up respecting himself as a unique person. It would mean that even when his behavior had to be thwarted, he could retain open "ownership" of his feelings. It would mean that his behavior would be a realistic balance, taking into account his own feelings and the known and open feelings of others. He would, I believe, be a responsible and self-directing individual, who would never need to conceal his feelings from himself, who would never need to live behind a facade. He would be relatively free of the maladjustments which cripple so many of us." ~ Carl R. Rogers, On Becoming a Person


I suppose it's easy enough to be crippled by what happened in childhood, what our parents did to us, what others did or said that made us feel less than or fearful.  So many people are wounded today.  That wounding comes from all manner of things--loved ones, jobs, the economy, life.  But it doesn't seem to be so easy to be whole again. Or is it?

It seems easier to blame others for unhappiness.  Or perhaps to find fault with others rather than looking inward at myself.  I like what Rogers describes as ways to live a "good life".  It makes a lot of sense to me.

1. A growing openness to experience – move away from defensiveness and have no need for unconsciously applying strategies to prevent something troubling from entering the consciousness.
2. An increasingly existential lifestyle – living each moment fully – not distorting the moment to fit personality or self concept but allowing personality and self concept to emanate from the experience. This results in excitement, daring, adaptability, tolerance, spontaneity, and a lack of rigidity and suggests a foundation of trust.
3. Increasing trust – Trusting my own judgment and ability to choose behavior that is appropriate for each moment.  Not relying on existing social norms but trust that by being open to experiences, I will be able to trust my own sense of right and wrong.
4. Freedom of choice – not being shackled by the restrictions that influence an incongruent individual (= a false individual in pursuit of personal regard), I am able to make a wider range of choices more fluently. Believing that I play a role in determining my own behavior and so feel responsible for my own behavior.
5. Creativity – feel more free to be creative without feeling a need to conform.
6. Reliability and constructiveness – Acting constructively. An individual who is open to all their needs will be able to maintain a balance between them. Aggressive needs will be matched and balanced by intrinsic goodness in authentic people. 
7. A rich full life – he describes the life of the fully functioning individual as rich, full and exciting and suggests that they experience joy and pain, love and heartbreak, fear and courage more intensely. 

Here is Rogers' description of the good life:

This process of the good life is not, I am convinced, a life for the faint-hearted. It involves the stretching and growing of becoming more and more of one's potentialities. It involves the courage to be. It means launching oneself fully into the stream of life.

I like the idea of launching myself fully into the stream of life: the good, the bad, the perceived, the real, the imagined, the ugly, the beauty, the wonder and the joy.  Let's do it. 

Climb the mountain

Lots of hurting people at the meeting last night.  People who were doing well a couple of weeks ago are now in the valley of sadness, worried about loved ones, worried about the holidays and the cost of getting through without emotional injury.  That valley seems awfully dark when shadowed by the mountain of misery brought by alcoholism and drug addiction.  So we shared about how we can use the steps and other recovery tools to climb up the mountain and get to a place where there is a clearer view of life.  It was uplifting.  

My wife has had fun making things for people.  Her inner artist has been called out to decorate Christmas ornaments that she found at thrift stores.  She uses organic cloth to line a box, puts confetti paper and colorful tissue paper in the box, nestles the painted ornaments in the paper, ties it all with a bow and voila--you get the finished product shown above.  I have hardly seen her because she has been working like one of Santa's elves in our workshop.  

Busy is good.  Busy helps me to move when I might get mired down.  So far so good on lowering expectations this Christmas.  Our decision to keep it simple has made a big difference.  This will be the first Christmas that the parents-in-law won't be coming here on Christmas day.  Things are simply different this year.  We have adjusted to those changes. The caregivers are going out of town for a week between Christmas and New Year's so we are going to be taking turns staying over at the parents during the night.  Temporary help will be taking care of things during the day.  Living life on life's terms--it's what we have to do in order to climb mountains and not be stuck in the valley of darkness. 

Some firsts today

There are a few firsts that I am grateful for today.

My father-in-law woke up from several days in a coma.  It is the first miracle of the day.  I am sure that there will be more if I just pay attention.  I want to ask him where he was, what did he see.  I am visiting him today and will sit quietly. No questions are really necessary.

The first frost of the season stole in last night.  The fields were covered in frost. The light was just right for a shot just after sunrise.  Crisp clear days wonderful.

The first wet nose in my face this morning belonged to a dog.  My wife's nose wasn't wet, but she nuzzled me too and gave me a kiss.  Those are precious moments in starting the day.

My first thought was the old dog.  She is still around me in spirit.  I think that she knows I want her near.  My parents were with me too for a while after they died.  And then one day, their spirits had moved on.  I had moved through the raw grief.  There are some mysteries that I am not meant to understand. I just accept them for what they are.

My first meeting with my local sponsor in a couple of weeks will be at lunch.  He has been to Australia, so I'm interested in hearing what has been going on.  He is low key and not controlling.  I can feel that we mesh well.

The first winter squash soup of the season is simmering on the stove.  I like the soup recipes posted by bloggers.  I print them out and get inspired to do some culinary stuff.  My wife smiles as I am chopping carrots and celery and squash.

I don't know what else the day has in store, but so far, it has been a good one.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel peaceful. Not happy. Not sad. Not anxious. Not horny. Just all the higher parts of my brain closing up shop. The cerebral cortex. The cerebellum. That's where my problem is. I'm now simplifying myself. Somewhere balanced in the perfect middle between happiness and sadness....~Chuck Palahniuk

Fishing photos and update

We had a good day fishing.  It was therapeutic to get out on the water and enjoy a warm day, beautiful scenery, and some seafood.  Here are some photos from our day:

The Sea Island Yacht Club where we launched the boat. An old building and an old club.  

A spot-tail bass that was the object of the day.  We catch and release. 

The fishing "hole" where the spot tails like to feed on the dropping tide. 

An eagle's nest--look for it near the middle of the photo.  

The clamming creek where on low tide we can rake up quite a few. 

Raking for clams which was productive!

Our clam take for the day.  These went into linguine with clam sauce. 

I feel as if I haven't had much to write about lately, except living life on life's terms.  That is a benefit of recovery--not fighting what comes but doing my best to accept and take positive action.  Here are some things that I have been doing:

--Contacting people for the caregiver position.  This is proving to be more difficult than I thought.  Good pay, a comfortable house, all expenses paid--I thought that there would be more people applying.  I was naive because it seems that there is much demand for caregivers.  And this is likely to be a field that only increases as we all age.  We have a couple of people that we are interviewing tomorrow.

--Working on the boat which will likely take 2-3 more weeks before going to haul out at the boat yard.  Lots of priming and filling.  But she is looking good.

--Going to meetings and meeting with those I sponsor.  I find that I can expunge the drama of life by going to a meeting.  I feel the weight lifted.  I am among others who live with drama every day, and somehow, we manage to feel a bit lighter after being together for an hour.  This never ceases to amaze me.

--Walking with the dogs in the morning.  We do about a mile together before any of us have breakfast.  They love it, and we get some time to enjoy the property and look for animal tracks.

What I haven't been doing is getting around to all the blogs that I like to read.  I will catch up at some point.  I have literally felt overwhelmed with the caregiver situation.  But I can see that creativity in thinking--split shifts and other ways to get coverage 24/7--is helping.  All will be okay.

Have a good day.  And if you are a veteran, thanks for what you have done.

Gone fishing

We are going fishing today.  Both of us are struggling a bit because the parents caregivers, Karin and Elias, gave their notice last evening.  They are leaving for London in two weeks to work at an estate.

Neither of us has slept well.  I was too anxious to write last night.  I needed to process the information.  I realize that there is a solution.  We are working on that now.

I am looking on the bright side.  But last evening, it was hard to wrap my head around the whole idea of their leaving so soon after they arrived.  But this is what life is about--people come and go.  And now we have to take action to find another couple who are willing to be caregivers.

I do what I generally do.  I got on the internet, wrote up a job description and put it out there.  I could feel the "fix it" rush happening.  I realize that my first reactions of dismay, sadness, and anxiety were pushed away when I did "something".  This is so typical of an adult child of an alcoholic.  By doing "something", I don't have to sit with the bad feelings.  That is part of it.  The other part is that with only two weeks notice, I did need to get a job description out there.

So now, we are going fishing.  It is a picture perfect day.  We both want to be on the water.  After one action, there has got to be an equal and opposite reaction.  Fishing seems to fit that bill completely.

Somehow, I know that all will be okay.  Casting out lines and seeing what rises to the bait seems to be the metaphorical thought of the day.

Life partners

We took dinner over to my wife's parents and their caregivers tonight.  I can see how frail the parents are.  I don't know that either could survive a serious bout of some debilitating illness.  Without the caregivers, Karin and Elias,  they would have to go into a nursing home.

It's not a happy occasion to visit.  We do our best to fake it and pretend to be happy, but I know that we are concerned about them and their downward spiral physically.  During dinner, my mother-in-law had the "1000 yard stare".  She ate very little.  She made a comment that she didn't feel wanted.  I don't know where that came from, but we assured her that she was wanted, and we were glad to be with her.

Later, she, Karin and I played catch with a small rubber ball that lights up when it is thrown.  She seemed to get into that and has a good throwing arm!  We played catch for about 30 minutes which had her smiling and laughing.  Such a simple thing, yet it livened her up and worked some muscles.  I may have to stop by just to play catch with my mother-in-law!

This couple has been married for a very long time.  Their long life together makes me think about what happens when people who have been together for so long lose their mate.  Animals certainly grieve.  Many mate for life. My mother did not want to be with another man.  She said that she did not have the heart to love another because all the love had been spent on my father.

It is hard for me to imagine what life would be like without my C.  So for the most part, I don't allow that thought process to go far.  But it is hard when one sees life partners coming to the end of their time together.  It is something that those who love others deeply have to face.  I am reminded once again just how precious each day is.

Some new family

The couple that are watching after my wife's parents are wonderful.  I stopped by yesterday to visit and saw such an improvement in the parents.  Both were smiling and had put on weight.  My mother-in-law was dressed up and wearing lipstick.  It was amazing to see the difference that just three weeks has made in their demeanor and physical appearance.

The only difficult thing to think about is that the couple may not be there for long.  Their career is in estate management.  Their last position was running the palace of a Saudi prince in which over 100 staff were employed and supervised.  The gig before that was managing staff at a couple of Swiss chalets owned by a wealthy family.  They have managed estates in France as well.

As they were telling me that they were in-between jobs at the moment, I began to feel small and fearful.  I thought about the happiness of my in-laws at the moment and how that could disappear suddenly should the couple's agent find them a new estate to manage.  When I talked to C. about it, she cried because she knows how attached her parents have become to this couple who have only been there a short time.  They are erudite, speak several languages, are kind, and gentle.  And they treat the parents with utmost respect.  They admitted that they have come to love the parents also.

This morning I realized that there are no guarantees with much except death.  I don't need to become worried about what might happen.  It is still one day at a time.  We can "cross the bridge" of finding another couple to live in should we need to do so.

I also know how our egos have a way of manifesting to let others know what our usual situation has been.  If I am suddenly driving an old beat up truck, I might be tempted to tell others that I usually drive a Porsche.  Leaving a palace to do caregiving at a suburban home represents a major change.  I understand and can empathize, although I have not ever lived in a palace.

In the meantime,  we have two new family members in Karin and Elias.  They, the parents, and the next door neighbors who helped facilitate the job for Karin and Elias are coming to dinner next Thursday evening.  We are going to make the most of the time we all have together.  And that is what truly matters.

If a man happens to find himself, he has a mansion which he can inhabit with dignity all the days of his life. ~James Michener

Storming within

A weather front turned this warm fall day into a rainy and windy one. That was the atmosphere at the noon meeting too where one of the long timers pounded the table because he has given up, isolated and lost his spirituality over the past two months.

With pamphlets and books bouncing as he pounded, he told of feeling worthless and unloved, of being angry with God for letting his father beat his mother, and for not wanting to trust or reach out to anyone. I imagine that for others, besides me, his behavior was a reminder of unmanageability that we have acted on or experienced from others. Yet, after the meeting, he was hugged and told that he had been missed.

I know my experience of feeling less than and disliked by others comes from long ago rejections. I shared with him that I still can get caught up in a swirl of negative thinking and self-pity. What has helped me to quiet the storm within is knowing that my perception is distorted--not everyone is out to get me. They are most likely just trying to get by and may be experiencing their own moments of doubt and pain due to their shortcomings. We are so similar in our humanness because we each have been wounded by living life. Once I realize that others react because of their own set of circumstances, I understand and have compassion for our human condition. We are all struggling in some way to quiet the storms within. I hope that he will find his way.

Showing up for Life

I had a really relaxing weekend.  No frantic calls, no problems to solve--just lots of reading, naps, and even a movie.  The rain that fell both days helped to relax the mind.  There is nothing like a rainy day to trigger the snooze button.

This will be another full week for me.  One of the things that I appreciate is that even in my darkest moments, I still showed up at work, for commitments with family--for daily responsibilities of all kinds. One of the things that I didn't do much of was to show up for my own life.  I let the needs of others dictate what I did.  My wife and I worked in the same place, so we saw each other all the time.  When it came to doing things on my own, away from her, I really struggled.  I thought that it was important to be there for them, putting my own interests on the back burner.

Eventually, I realized that I needed some kind of hobby.  I have had a couple of serious hobbies over the years.  Eventually,  they came to be tiring and a burden.  I kept at them because I needed some kind of outlet from all the drama at home and didn't want to be a quitter.  In recovery, I discovered that I wanted to go in a different direction, one that didn't involve being competitive.  And I needed a hobby that would allow me time for quiet contemplation.

I like the idea of showing up for life to do those things that bring me joy.  With the luxury of being retired, I can devote time to the artistic part of me through photography and writing.  And I also can devote time to sailing which brings me immense pleasure in a non-competitive way.

There are many people in meetings who have no outlet to get away from alcoholism.  Sadly, they have no hobbies or a healthy activity that brings them enjoyment.  I once asked a person I know what they liked to do.  She answered, "I don't know. I can't think of anything that gives me pleasure." I know that alcoholism can rob me of just about everything, including my life.

Even if it is a small thing such as walking, gardening, going to meetings, having coffee with a friend, I found that it is important for me to do something that gives me pleasure, that gets my mind off myself and the alcoholic.  It is important that I show up for my life.  Otherwise, what is the point?

Throwing away

Life has settled down once again.  My father-in-law was discharged and so the elderly couple are reunited.  They have managed to make it through so many years of marriage for reasons that few can comprehend.  Their vow of "until death do us part" is one that they practice.

I suppose that I feel the same way.  Maybe it is the co-dependent in me who is not willing to toss away another person when the going gets rough.  Although I was walking out the door due to being fed up with alcoholism, I know that in my heart, I was being torn apart.  I loved another, not because of vows or legalities, but because I truly loved this person that I married.  I knew her worth underneath the alcoholic demeanor.  I knew that she was a good person through and through.  Difficult, sad, stubborn--but still filled with goodness.  I used to tell people that she is the best person I know.  I believe that still.

We are a society that throws away people and things that we no longer want.  We give up way too easily.  Few want to dig deep within themselves to look for solutions.  Thankfully,  I have found a great deal of inner strength in Al-Anon.  I am a solution oriented thinker.  I don't throw away people or animals.  I need to throw away some things in the house but instead I take them to Good Will or give them to the nearby church who finds a way to distribute them to those in need.

I am glad to not be too quick to cast off lines but to contemplate the wind and the current to see how the boat will move away from her slip.  Life is like that.  I don't cast off lines easily.  I weigh circumstances, seek solutions, search within for forgiveness, and realize that each of us is so imperfect.