Moment by Moment

“Merica” bought by or sold by Hobby Lobby… you choose.

This morning I woke with only one thought on my mind… Hobby Lobby, those bastards! Not feeling well and being physically destroyed for once by the weather and not my own hand. Have I mentioned before I am a recovering addict? Anyhow, I laid in bed wondering perplexed, pondering exactly what it meant to have this industry giant and their discriminatory practices with registers soon to be ringing from the sounds of a free market system in our small town. I thought, how could a company with such questionable ethical ideals and small minded, self serving business practices be entering my small towns market? Contemplation of the legal ramifications and implications of picketing on public property, I imagined myself chained to a bulldozer waving signs that read, “You may love God, but God hates homophobia”, and such.

My mind then turned to the recent go-rounds with a local neighborhood action committee. They were fighting to prevent another extremely controversial company from entering our community. I recalled HOOTERS had recently tried to enter the Mount Pleasant business market. Committees outraged over the possibilities of having a HOOTERS opening, (well… at least in their neighborhood) had jumped into action to prevent this from happening. The opening would have been in an albeit adjacent location to their neighborhood, but in an appropriately zoned area, near other businesses and intended to end the continued blighting of a now still empty eyesore in our community.

Through my self-righteous indignation I had envisioned myself not shopping and picketing a business that I didn’t believe contributed to or was a necessary brand for our community. One that I believe personally divides and strips others of their rights. A belief and feelings I am now more than ever willing to fight for and defend. At this point in the article if you are unfamiliar with the literal definition of self-righteous, there is a link below. An interesting side note for readers not from the area, who know little or nothing more about me other than what this blog has to had offer.

Both my mother and father have been in local politics my entire life. Entirely out of respect for their positions as community leaders, for me this has meant along with keeping opinions, at least publicly on vast array of local items. I have also kept silent on a myriad of other issues. As you can imagine a son straddling the addiction and recovery worlds could, can, and has been somewhat of an embarrassment. With my father having retired from his position and my mother soon to be done with her tenure, if I choose I will no longer need to keep myself from the local spot light of our small town politics, save causing my family further embarrassment. Hmm?

Having said this… I have a reputation in our community. Not necessarily a good one, but not necessarily such a bad one either. As with Hobby Lobby (the Greens) and the practices of companies like them I am blessed to be in America, (an American) and whether you agree with my opinions or not… they matter (if only to me) and are sometimes even counted. Once long ago… even encouraged.

Maybe there wasn’t collusion, whatever that means, but there was interference (Russian interference) with or without our presidents assistance. As a result it has become all but impossible to offer objective opinions on almost any subject anymore. With instant social media, angry and ignorant responses hiding behind the safety of a computers raining a barrage of hate. We are subject to an almost immediate response, internal national anti- American rhetoric for suggesting unity and inclusion. Of course, this just perpetuates the already strained division we have in our country. A message of unity and inclusion being labeled as anti-American, should seem itself to be anti-American in a country founded on immigration and labeled as a “melting pot”.

Having accepted God into my life… I live in the light, now. So, no secrets here. Nothing left to hide or to lose. You won’t find skeletons in my closet, I came out years ago. In fact my closet is bare. I have laid it all out. Some of the past I will keep and fight to take care of, as long as there is breath in my body. Things such as freedom, equality, liberty and justice for all. Much of my past, I will leave behind. And what doesn’t fit anymore, I am giving away or returning. Maybe these are ideals and principles our country should adopt, too. This is the nature of recovery and my way of making my (and your) America great again.

Hatred, anger and intolerance seem to be at an all time high. Being criticized the moment one exercises any form of belief, an idea suggesting that acceptance, tolerance, unity or inclusion are the answer, has become the new American way of life. Instead of open dialog, discussion and debate we hurl accusations and encourage divisive division from both sides of the aisle. This will not deter my voice though.

Lets get back to Hobby Lobby. I do little anymore without a fair amount of research. So upon lugging myself and my now almost fifty year old aching body out of bed, a task that gets more difficult with each passing day (don’t take drugs kids). Especially in this yo-yoing Michigan weather. I began my research.

Much to my surprise I won’t be picketing Hobby Lobby anytime soon. In fact, I don’t entirely disagree with some of their position. I may even stop in just to see what all the hub-bud is about. Probably not though.

Know the facts before you judge based on someone else opinion.

It’s true, some of the forms of birth control used as their guise to openly discriminate against homosexuals, were in fact banned from their healthcare program. The morning after pill is no longer available, among others. So, their lobbying efforts worked. And with a victory to make decisions to take control of women’s rights, away from women, they were able to secure, and prove, yet again money and power speak louder in Washington than the people do.

But the Hobby Lobby and its owners “Christian (self)right(eous)” David and Barbara Green, inadvertently secured some other things too… rights for gays and lesbians in the work place. Thank you Justice Ginsburg. An ensuing decision on religious freedom and the right to openly discriminate against folks on sexual orientation or any other bias was upheld. A win for all minorities. A win for all people, but unrecognized by most.

What wasn’t a win for all minorities and the rest of low and middle income America is that we seem to be continuing to ignore big money and the corporate rule in America. Where is the concern? The concern that this is now the America we all live in. An America where the people within our communities don’t care about each other or the rights of their next door neighbors. We’ve become a society of every man, woman, and child for themselves. No longer banding together to ask these questions or any questions for that matter. No longer a country where we would mourn collectively the loss of a true leader. A country where a centuries old historic landmark burns to the ground and before the embers are out, the memes are up. Memes depicting God freebasing over its blaze. A disgrace and a message sent to the rest of the world, yet again about who we’ve becomes as Americans citizens.

Truly a loss of Biblical and historical proportions for all of us.

We seem to have become a country only respecting money, social status, and sports. Winning no matter what the costs. Whatever winning is in these scenarios? For some winning is just getting a hot meal each day. Others win if they don’t lose their homes. Still more are just looking for a struggling child to receive an education. Many have family, friends and neighbors in need of healthcare assistance. With the American opioid epidemic continuing to be ignored and a growing demographic including… I’ll bet someone that you know who needs or will need programs and funding available to help in the recovery process of addiction. For most Americans theses would be the wins.

It’s all fine and well to sit on a soap box when the issues you’re lobbying for don’t directly affect you or the people you love. Even easier to be the ruler on high, and suggest such things as, “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche” or more commonly known and spoken in English as, “Let them eat cake”. Especially if and when it’s someone else’s American, son or daughter.

In business America we do any and everything to encourage free trade and commerce. Until… apparently it means having to side step a group of “undesirables” living the same lives, but with different clothes, husbands, wives, religions, and beliefs. Oh and most importantly lest we forget, a different color, ethnic background or sexual orientation. Lives equally as worthy as any of ours, as long as the public side-walk they’re using isn’t in our neighborhood, right?

How is this concept or idea any different than that of segregation in schools? Or separate drinking fountains for blacks and whites? With our commander and chief working so hard to create division in our country, where are all the protesters and good “Christian” folk fighting for the rights of others? Are you so far on the “right(eous)“, that you can’t see how wrong the direction we are headed in as a people is?

When the idea of a few drunken college students and gals in tight tops and short-shorts wandering out of Hooters into your neighborhood was the issue you rallied and poof, no Hooters. No commerce or added taxes to our communities base. An empty building still stands in it place. But when basic human dignity and rights are at stake… silence. They must have some hella good crafts and hobbies at this store.

More and more we hear the term, Trumps America. How’s the saying go? The squeaky wheel… He’s willing to tweet the most, talk the loudest, say what he thinks and believes about any and everything. All while sitting in the White House acting on and speaking on behalf of all of us. The frightening part, half of America defends his hate message, nods and agrees. And just what is the other half of America doing? The half that doesn’t vote in elections and doesn’t protest anymore, as we slowly lose our rights and the class division continues to grow…

We wait patiently hoping Muller, taxes, that next big tweet to bitch about or some other misstep gets him impeached. But It won’t. He has already stolen the narrative, total vindication and exoneration remember? The rest is just fodder for the continued and nauseating news cycle. Which he is a master of controlling. Done and done. I watched Chappaquiddick not long ago, fascinating. At almost fifty I am just a touch to young to remember any of this event. But, here are some thoughts… an example from across the aisle. Love me some Ted Kennedy. He did many good thing. But, he did lie and was responsible for the drowning death of a woman. Also, one of our longest term Senators, though. We are a forgiving and forgetting people with short attention spans.

Even if you believe any of the people supporting Donald Trump care about what the report or any reports have to say, these are the same folks who will re-elect him in 2020. Re-elect a man to a post many believe he didn’t want for anything more than a hobby in the first place.

Fundamentally, Americans with the same agenda… get the niggers, spics, Jews, Muslims (towel heads), fags and dykes out… that’ll make America great again! Did I leave anyone out, Don? I should have started this article with that sentence. It would be close to a Trump speech and then I’d of had the narrative, wouldn’t I?

Listening to and watching the current domestic and foreign polices on immigration and aid, leads me to believe the only colors this administration sees are white and green. With a national platform on which to picket and protest for his agenda. An agenda of exclusion and elitism with just a sprinkle of racial unrest, it appears an ethnic cleansing is what he has in mind. He doesn’t say this it out-right , but I sure get the impression he thinks America could use a good white washing.

Unfortunately, I get that impression and the 2016 election results seem to suggest an awful lot of Americans agree. A subject I don’t hear many speaking out about. We must continue to talk the rhetoric of unity. But we did this in the last election cycle. What we got from this was the realization that despite all the pontificating and posturing, Americans still have a growing and thriving racial inequality and unrest. Still a lot of healing be done, from now more than a centuries old wounds. Unfortunately, wounds that seem to be re-opened each day with every new tweet.

I am told Hobby Lobby has an enormous selection of games, and obviously hobbies, art supplies and crafts too. I have heard many a twenty something and millennial mention how awesome the stores are. They are looking forward to the edition of this chain into our community. The Greens must feel pretty confident that a middle American demographic small mid-western town like Mount Pleasant, MI. works for them and their agenda. Otherwise who would work and shop there?

Not our communities men and women. We are good “Christian folk”. And certainly not those attending one of Americas higher learning institutions. These young women and the men who support them, receiving educations at a college like Central Michigan University would never support such policies like that of Hobby Lobby. Young adults at this level must have been taught about our checkered American past with regards to prejudice and bigotry, multi-cultural differences, inclusive… and our ” melting pot history”. Unless all these individuals too, believe in the “Greens agenda” and “Trumps America”.

As it turns out surprisingly I do have more in common with the Greens than I would have expected. All three of us have a belief in our Creator. A sense of faith and belief in good fundamental Christian values. Where we seem to separate is on the issue of shoving our personal lifestyle choices and beliefs down the throats of other Americans.

It’s funny how, oh again how’s that saying go… ‘money, power something, blah, blah, power corrupts… Absolutely! It safe to say when you’ve decided to tell a person (much like slavery) what they can and can’t do with their bodies… you’ve become corrupted… Absolutely.

Self imposed dominance, rarely seen for what it is… but in some instances actually refereed to as, rape.. At its core an exercise in power and total domination. What an ugly truth for the Greens. What an ugly truth for Donald Trump, the president. But what an even uglier truth for those who would support those who support laws or an agenda which at its core, is the raping of America and its people. Regardless though, let’s all hope Hobby Lobby has a great selection of stained glass materials, right(eous)?

We may not have the money they do or the platform he does, but what we do have is each other, our social media and local news outlets. Let our letters be sent, let our words be written. Pick up the signs. Make the calls. We must let our voices be heard. Take up the fight to keep what truly made America great in the first place, America great again… Freedom of choice and expression, but mainly inclusion with a vast array of diversity.

As always thanks for popping by, God Bless, Duane.

A Rohr above the Crowd

My mother and a friend, who is a former graduate student of my fathers both recommend Richard Rohr to me. He is a Franciscan priest, author and the founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation (CAC) in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Obviously, with a whole center, a website, degrees and other stuff… he more than likely spent less time smoking “crack” than I did. The message he has is a beautiful one, a little scripture heavy for me, but don’t hold this against him… After all he is a priest. Sorry addicts, I had no idea my blog was headed in these directions. Please don’t leave before your miracle! Rohr’s message today which I have shared a link for as always below, was one of Christ sacrifice.

If you’ve been paying attention and I’ve said from the onset I am not expecting anyone to, I haven’t mentioned Jesus. I have used terms such as Christlike and have referred to the general message of Christ, but not Jesus Himself. His father and His cousins ( I think that’s who the angels are, HEY… its my blog!) we talk pretty regularly, but Jesus thus far hasn’t made any attempts to reach out. Or at least so I had thought.

We relate the events in our personal lives at any given moment based on our perceptions of what is good or bad in our lives. Since individual perception is reality. This is why not getting that last chocolate chip muffin at Starbucks, having waited in line for a whole fifteen minutes, seems like the end of the world for so many. When in reality the end of the world literally (look it up… the definition) is coming for the millions of men, woman and children dying of starvation without a Starbucks in sight. This year alone 36 million people will die from starvation.

Until I learned to love myself, I was never lovin’ anybody else.

Whether you’re a believer or not, arguing that living Christlike isn’t the answer makes you an asshole!

I could have ended this entry right there. As always though, I have much more to say. Reading Rohr’s meditation today, I had a sense of Jesus for the first time since my awakening on Broadway. My take away from his meditation today was Gods understanding. He provided us with Himself in human form so that He could have the human experience (in the form of His own Son). We choose to create convolutions which confuse and distort this very simple concept. Rohr even mentions scapegoating, which I just wrote about in a previous blog piece. Whom do I blame if I exercise my freewill and make poor choices, God? He understands your being angry, but can only shoulder some of the blame. And that blame is questionable only to the effect of our birth.

Even a long and beautifully lived still life ends.

The promise of birth is only life. Even plants and animals receive this gift. But a tree has no way of moving itself from bad soil, just as the worm doesn’t choose a hook. Our births into this world, themselves, give us reason for celebration. Weddings, birthdays, graduations, first communions, baptisms, all the rites of passages and experiences we share as individuals that culminate into the human experience which we celebrate as one. But so too does our grief, pain and suffering.

Born of sin, given freewill, selfish, ego driven and unable to see our commonality in our humanity. With each nail driven into Him representing our sin, pain and suffering. Each mark of His Crucifixion saying there is no earthly struggle we cannot endure with his love. Spreading his fathers message of love and unity, He was sacrificed by Himself as his Son, in hopes that one day we would understand and live by His teachings. Christ suffering on the cross, with the grief, shame and blame of our world being placed upon Him, we learn that through Him (Christ) we all rise to every occasion. There is no cross to bear. That has been done already for us.

It is through our shared pain and suffering, not only the celebrations of life that we gain knowledge and understanding of ourselves and others.

The struggle is real, for those in need… and

I can only assume (and this may make an ass out of me and you, but better safe, than burning in hell, right) this is when Gods intent for us is to become more Christlike. In these moments, our weakest times we should draw strength form each other. Yet, we seem to find more and more paths for division and exclusion. There is good in mankind. It isn’t always easy to see or find. It is often a struggle every day.

Disillusionment brings me mental and physical anguish almost daily. I struggle sometimes not to pack up and disappear, both literally and figuratively. Each day though, I am given a chance to find my path, Gods will for me. Each day I sit at this computer and think… WTF Duane, who are you to be delivering any kind of message for God. But, if not me than who? So much easier to walk down Adams and just get a beer. Let the worlds problems and issues be someone else’s to bear and deal with. I imagine there are many who wish I would. Looking at myself, like it or not, forces many others to take a look at themselves, too. He who is free from sin… Mary Magdalene… the lepers… Healing of the blind man… These are the true messages of Christ…

All four stories have particular significance for me in my life. They also have real and purposeful meaning for the world we all live in today, as do all of Jesus’s life lessons (Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth). Take the blind man. Jesus does heal his sight, but he does it twice. My coming to know Christ, also appears to be coming in stages. As a whole humanities coming to understand Gods word, His teachings, the lessons His Son has left for us, and what we as His children seem to be learning is also coming very slowly.

Don’t we all wish that our leaders here in America past and present were living more Christlike? Or for that matter that all world leaders were. Would the world even be in shambles if they did? And doesn’t that start with all of us as individuals, first? So, why not me. I am just as unqualified (filled with sin) as any of Gods other children to spread his message. But my interpretations of the Bible and Jesus’s word are one of unification and inclusion. A none believer just months ago. Now so intent on delivering His message I am ironically, willing to “alienate” those I have the most in common with, addicts and alcoholics (only because I know how hard it is to believe anyone could love us). But, also who better to deliver that message than a former non-believer, addict and alcoholic?

As always thanks for popping by. God Bless, Duane

Hash… Corned beef that is.

A beautiful April morning, snow falling from the sky like a December scene from a Christmas movie. Yeah, none of that should be in the same sentence. But here we are in Michigan and amid a global warming crisis that is being ignored, one should hardly be surprised by the weather. And besides in defense of the ignorant and righteous, I remember plenty of Easters with snow on the ground as a child. And I’m no spring chicken.

Speaking of delicious meats… in the middle of opening a can of corned beef hash while writing this morning, I was suddenly struck with the thought of just how unhealthy the choice I was making for breakfast was for my body. Peering into that can of grease laden, fat covered, deliciousness all I saw was a poor decision. I began thinking of all of the poor decisions we make every day. Knowing full well how detrimental they are for us; however, no matter, still, ill advised… choosing them.

Just yesterday on a friends Facebook wall, I saw a post that read something along the lines of, “loving yourself is recognizing when others are treating you badly.” I liked it and I thought about commenting on it, even sharing it. Somehow it seemed incomplete, something was missing. So I did not. While opening that can I realized what it was… the missing line, Now what are you willing to do about that? Whether it is the things we do to ourselves or the things we allow other to do to us, they all have an impact. Each decision we make or don’t make exacts its toll, takes us in a new and different direction. Sometimes down uncharted and dangerous paths, like addiction.

I believe we all have an inner voice that tells us right from wrong.
Choosing to listen to it or not is our God given free will. I also believe we are not immediately or necessarily punished and rewarded based on either of these choices. And not all things in life are determined by our choices or free will. Some things are just happenstance. Take the young man Cody Fry fighting for his life. His only misstep was being born in Iowa (link below). This is why unfortunately, good things happen to bad people. And too… why bad things happen to good people. But isn’t it often really a combination of all three, good choices, bad choices and happenstance? I think maybe this is where the sayings, “Life’s a “beach” then you die” and “it is what is” come from.

I mean admittedly happenstance made me the product of an abusive childhood prior to my adoption. But, I also have had great opportunities presented to me in life since then, choices. Sometimes making the good choice, but often taking the bad choices. But all my choices, me exercise that damnable free will of ours. So nature or nurture what makes an addict? I’m not speaking of any of my parents, biological or the two that matter. Is it in my nature to be an addict or have I nurtured it myself? When presented with choices like this…

And choosing them instead of an equally delicious, much healthier choice. Who’s left to blame now when my arteries are clogged? God, because he gave me free will or myself because I didn’t use it wisely? It would seem to me although being angry with God is an appropriate emotion, one he is willing to bear. Many of us, outside happenstance make pretty awful decisions for ourselves everyday.

If you were looking for answers here today, there are none. In fact I have more questions now. Global warming, addiction, or hash? Maybe I should start my days with Dannon Black Cherry Greek yogurt? I know for sure all the yogurt in the world won’t stop happenstance though. Besides the best way to start your day is with prayer. And I sure do love me some corned beef hash. I suppose as long as I don’t put it in a pipe and smoke it… I’ve exercised pretty good judgement today.

As always thanks for popping by. God Bless, Duane.

Prisoner: Cell-block B(roadway)

Sometimes the next best decision is nothing at all. A complete lock down. I had a day last week where that was the case. The weather was so nice, I couldn’t leave my house. Sounds strange doesn’t it? Mother Nature had provided us a glorious day. Only for me, if I were to leave my house I might not have made it back. This isn’t always the case, but it was on this particular day. Oh I would have returned eventually, maybe in one piece, but not as a whole. Not as myself, a part of me would have been missing. Fortunately, I have created a wonderful space and home for myself. A necessity for all recovering addicts in my non-degree’d opinion. I think unless you’re an addict or suffer agoraphobia the probability of comprehension will be lost here. At that moment, my state of mind prevented my being in the outside world. The simple choices I would need to make, made leaving my home a non-starter.

But, when the thoughts that run through your head are such as, “it’s so beautiful today, you know what would make this even better…”, knowing it won’t. And yet, still wanting to do it. It becomes your reality. It’s a rather intense feeling, knowing that first step outside your own front door is going to be the next misstep in your life. One that I’ve made too many times, already. I thought about attending my first meeting since getting clean and sober, but was quickly reminded I don’t enjoy our club. Putting myself out there for something I don’t enjoy and that has never worked for me, seemed a little too risky. Plus, all the traps on the trip, most importantly though, making the journey back without succumbing to temptation.

Thank God this is only a temporary affliction for me, (this to shall pass). It would be hysterical, if it wasn’t so painful. It is exactly what I was referring to in “That Cool Refreshing Drink”. God removes the obsession, but not the desires and feelings associated with addiction. It’s a true conflict of interest. I don’t want to use the alcohol and drugs anymore, but the reasons why are still relevant. Hmm?

Let me explain. I don’t want to use again. But, I would also love not to feel how I do at times, which makes me want to use. It’s what I know. It’s dangerous to feel too good and dangerous to feel too bad. Imagine for a moment feeling somewhere in the middle of that spectrum. A misstep in either direction ends badly. This is where I become paralyzed. I’m not looking to live as a shut-in. I am though learning to read the signs, pay attention to my thoughts and my body. With trusting already such a chore it shouldn’t be so strange to second guess myself, be unsure of whom to trust, know where it is safe to be and who it is safe to be around. But it is, therefore… complete lock down.

Already this time around in sobriety, I have deflected the advances of would be helpers in the name of God and recovery. Those interested in aiding me further in the apparently, treacherous words of the Bible and just saying “no”. Yes, no a joke and not even a little funny either. So, after years of trying to rely on those who, have “worked the steps” and having been “worked over” I have opted to rely on myself. Chosen to navigate the recovery world, mostly alone. Dangerous… indeed! But nothing else has worked. The world is full of slime bags and posers. I have been hurt enough and have had my fill of these people. These hypocrites are worse than the dealers and users themselves.

Thankfully there is one whom I do seem to be able to rely on, God. Yup, surprising the shit out of me too. If I am being honest, which it appears I can’t control. God is the only thing between me and a full on relapse. I am not a complete narcissist, although was once diagnosed with delusions of grandeur. An interesting conflict to my diagnoses of inferiority and self-loathing over the years. And If I had a dollar for every time I was told I was too hard on myself, I could pay all my back child support. None of this makes me feel God has chosen me as a prophet. They say everybody is good at one thing. I am damn near an expert at failing in recovery. Again, in my non-degree’d opinion, I think something others may benefit from. But, WTF do I know?

Today while using the restroom at work I heard an oldie but a goody.

Darlin’ if you want me to be, closer to you… get closer to me.

Not that I have Gods ear personally or his favor for that matter. I am falling in and out of that, all the time, multiple times, each and every day. When I do though, I ask for his forgiveness. Despite all my flaws, He is merciful and I am able to move on. Still knowing his presence and love for me is there. It’s since having asked for his grace that I recognize, hear, see and even say things differently. Take the above song. It is about two lover’s (ugh, that word again). But, that wasn’t what I heard while standing at the urinal.

Recovery is a way of life for me now. It is a part of who I am, who I’m going to be. I begin and end my days with prayer. This is how and who I must be in order to survive and thrive. I was struggling all day today with recovery (life) issues. For many those are health, financial, and emotional upheavals. Today for me it was a world wrought with selfishness, disrespect, rudeness, anger and hostility from others, not to mention from myself in its many forms. It is often difficult to find reasons for anyone, but especially those of us struggling in recovery not to self medicate to avoid the stresses of life. It takes hearing, seeing and speaking in a new way for me to understand Gods message for me fully. Or maybe I am just a loon. But if his message was something simple like, Duane take a minute… restart, refocus, and re-visualize. Then the song playing was just for me. Duane if you want me to be closer to you, get closer to me… Pray!

So, I did. Right at the urinal… And gradually my day has gotten better.

As always thanks for pooping in. God Bless, Duane

Time for the Good Stuff

Today I am looking into finding some volunteer work. I snagged an application from Habit For Humanity recently. Initially, I had this idea that I would have to be involved with a church or some religious organization. It turned out all the signs were right in front of me, literally. I was walking to work one day and had been thinking, it is time to start doing. As I passed the mighty Chip along Pickard Street. I looked up and there directly in my view was a flashing sign that read, VOLUNTEER, VOLUNTEER, VOLUNTEER and then something about a sale! Jackpot a twofer, so I stopped in and grabbed an application. Maybe, they’ll want me? Maybe, they won’t?

In its own way I feel as though the blog is a form of volunteer work. I am not sure it serves any purpose other than mine, except from time to time a conversation comes out of it. A friend struggling with the addiction of alcoholism recently told that they were inspired and looking into treatment. If that were to be the only thing to come of this, than I believe it has served Gods will. There really is something to be said for a relationship with God. I feel his presence almost always now.

Although things rarely moved in my world, on my time line. True more so now than ever (I’ve quit pushing). I just have a different outlook on it. I don’t focus on the negative any longer. In fact I fell short just the other day, and disappointed myself. But dusted myself off, removing thoughts that would even take me to dark places, meaning that when I begin to pass judgement or in general have a less than healthy outlook on a situation, I pray. Usually, and I mean within moments it is removed. Never my driving situation though, so if you still see me singing and biking (praying now, too you know why.)

I have always been a cheery guy, but a complainer none the less! Oh, I know from the outside it might look as though I’m all sunshine and lollipops, with all the singing, dancing and that spring in my step. But, I have a grudge weighing me down. I always have and may always will. I am working on lightening my load by handing my problems over to someone who can help me with them, God. He may have a magic wand, but with lessons to be learned for each and everyone of one us. Just fixing them would seem to miss its mark, wouldn’t it?

I think few things happen in our world without us playing a role in them. Oh yes, certainly there are exceptions, there almost always are. In the end though getting that speeding ticket wasn’t because you were cursed and the cops are out to get you. It’s because you were speeding. I remember my first DUI. I was livid! A good attorney probably could have gotten me off. I wasn’t even behind the wheel when they arrived, etc… However, I was drunk and are you ready? Driving. That is right. I played a role in my very own DUI. Oh, and that second one, well wetting yourself while they are trying to conduct sobriety tests… ouch.

I’ve rambled on and on about my bad behavior in other blogs. Read them if you like. I have also done some wonderful things. For instance all those stories about being a bad dad… I may have been an absentee father and made some questionable choices, but I am not only not a deadbeat dad. My question would be, who would like to throw the first stone? I am still behind in my support payments, but a modest amount in comparison to many. And I have always tried to keep up… despite my many personal struggles. So, judge if you like. Good or bad guy? I think we are all maybe a little or a lot of both.

I believe I will continue to move out of the way though, and have God make those decisions from now on.

That Cool Refreshing Drink

Guess what, listen to this, this one time, you won’t believe this, just wait until I tell you about… all phrases, too often heard and spoken. They should have us running for the hills. Or at minimum questioning whether the next few moments of our lives will be healthy, for us or not? But, damned if we don’t love a good slut shaming, an I was so drunk story, or hearing all the latest gossip, rumor and innuendo. Plus, who would want to miss the next tragic missteps in this poor fools addiction history. We all seem on some level to be fascinated by others trials, triumphs and tragedies. In fact it is part of the reason that an improbable clown like Donald Trump was able to win the presidency. If they were to re-air old episodes of, “Lifestyle’s of the Rich and Famous” now… Same hair, same philosophy, same I’m better than you attitude, all round same bloated arrogant ass, but with different trade up, “trophy- wife”.

Remember the old saying, behind every sketchy S.O.B., there is a greater women… holding tightly to one hell of a non-disclosing, prenuptial agreement.

An interesting interview involving twin sisters from opposing parties in Kent Co. Michigan, who ran for the same political office, but in different districts caught my ears and eyes the other night. So, I watched and I listened. Of the few things these sisters agreed upon, one was Hillary Clinton’s dropping the ball in Michigan, and making the assumption of black voter support for simply being a democratic candidate. Rather shockingly, they also agreed that President Trump in general has a message that is on point, (my left leaning sister did quickly add, “on point for whom though, just the wealthy?”). Agreeing also that he is such an atrocious public speaker, the message is lost. He should never ad lib.

Regardless, the interview and their conflicting beliefs, but common background got me to thinking about what suddenly made this man a viable candidate for office back in 2015. I mean, a Facebook thread I recently followed had Joe Biden likened to a serial rapist. WTF? He is a man who has dedicated most of his adult life and that of his families, to public service. Working on the needs of others and ensuring better futures for his and your children. While Trump and his heirs have spent a lifetime in the private sector tending to their needs and their futures while helping to destroy middle Americas. So, again… what is it about Donald Trump? Why are Americans and foreigners, whether they be in support or repulsed by him so… enthralled?

I think it’s the story. The gossip and rumors. It gives most of us something to make us feel better about ourselves. Better without having to do a thing to fix it, except bitch. Oh, sure we get tired of that too, but its like a wreck on northbound I-75 while your driving southbound… you slow down not caring that your backing up traffic to take a peek (possibly causing an accident yourself). Then complain that traffic isn’t moving fast enough, just before you slow down again to take a peek at the latest accident. I get it. Surprisingly, that is one thing I don’t do. I figure… I’m no a doctor, and speeding at rates of 75 to 90 mph, in the opposite direction with crews on the scene… not much for me to do! No judgement though, maybe you don’t smoke crack, kudos. We all have our vices. Unfortunately, this would appear to be the better half of America.

I fear it’s far too late for this piece not turn political. It wasn’t intended to be. But eh, since were there, let’s all take a peek at that wreck, shall we? I think few of us recognize the malady for what it is… our sinful nature. We aren’t willing to believe or accept it. But, our most tragically flawed human frailty is quite simply put, our vanity and ego (sin). Secretly for many Americans, not so secretly for others (almost half, but not quite), having Mr. Trump serve is like winning the lotto (or as others might view it, like having a broken electorate). Their dirty little secret… If many could, they would love to trade places or even be him for a day. This is the other half… “God shed his (dis) grace on thee.” Have you ever actually listened to the lyrics of…

I picked Ray’s version… it’s the best and so ironic.
Although already isolated by blindness, addicted by nature and segregated by his own country, he still found insight to see God had better intentions for us than what we’ve become.

Trumps half of America would have us segregated again, cut off from the rest of the civilized and sane world (building walls, are we all sure they’re to keep others out or are they to keep us in? (1984)), openly practicing their bigotry, and spreading their prejudice for others, in front of others… as he does. Belittling those weaker and without the means to defend themselves (dead or alive). Man, woman, child or corpse he takes no exception. Even Fox thinks he’s an ass for this shit.

Back in 2015 when I suggested Donald Trump was a viable candidate, I was scoffed at by many, told the announcement was simply a publicity stunt. But, see I work in the trenches among common folk. I bring them their food, listen to their complaints and share many of them myself, too. None of which the current administrations policies seems to be addressing. I just filed my 2018 taxes yesterday. Same ol’, same ol’. I wouldn’t mind a peek at the commander and chiefs. He can look at mine, but I have feeling he’s getting way more back percentage wise than I am. So, sure it was just a publicity stunt, but a good one. Perhaps, too good, look what we’ve done…

I relate most things in my life anymore to either recovery or God. You don’t have to, this is my life. I need to and it seems to be working. Having said that… Don is no god! He is however, a lot like the lies I tell myself prior to a relapse. The signs are there if I’m watching for them. I am disgruntled with the current administration. “Feeling” as though I have suspended fun (you know closed loopholes and tax credits for big business) or so I lead myself to believe. I begin glorifying the old ways of life (support the monopolies; steel, oil, internet, and commerce- barons). Forgetting that only a few benefited from it, mostly dealers and moochers (But, also those that know the tax code and have enough cash for that matter). In the end all the people lose (certainly this guy and those close to him). Because at the “end” there is really no such thing as a “social addict” (or trickle down economics) they are both a fallacy.

I’m told by myself and promises are made that this time around if elected, “drugs and alcohol” will provide better times, with no repercussions. Evenings will be filled with wonderful tales of companionship and love. This is all a lie. “Drugs and alcohol” if re-elected are going to do the same thing they do to me every time I elect them. Slip me a roofie, causing blackout (don’t drink the Kool-aid), call some friends over and go to town on my ass. Recorded for posterity and unworried that I’ll remember or that I’ve learned a thing. I haven’t so far (none of us have). We all keep writing the same history… addicts and Americans, hmm? Maybe we should start rewriting instead.

Having had the compulsion to use drugs, alcohol, and other forms of addiction removed (much like the possibility of our healthcare, education and that pesky global warming continuing being ignored), you would think that re-election seems impossible. But, re-packaged and sold with a more polished and smoother branding, I have on many occasions allowed another term (so have you). Many lessons taught, but so few learned.

Exercising our free will, many of us will make that same poor choice again. That is why it is important for me when rehashing old stories to remember them (Tariffs did hurt the farmers.) accurately. When revisiting old haunts (Closing or funding the border wall will cost billions, if not trillions… ultimately harming our economy the most.) being honest about why I am there. Or reminisce of an old friend, especially those I know to be dangerous for me, (Like any of the dozens of indicted individuals who served on the cabinet and election committee.) needs truthfulness (At least for those wishing to continue to receive social security).

It isn’t that I want to relapse, but ignoring people, places and things is likely to have that outcome. The message we emit is often the response we get. So those we surround ourselves with experiencing and feeling the same things, or the feelings and experiences we’ve surrounded ourselves with are likely to be our results. Ultimately, its the misery loves company theory. Guess what… so do bigots and bully’s. Welcome to Merica’.

Earlier this evening I was sharing with my mother just how much work it takes for me stay on my path. Being a positive person amid all the negativity I see and feel is exhausting. Forget about navigating or swimming, the energy needed just to simply stay a float in the ever growing sea of negativity that has become America is a full time job. And like you, I have many others. First and foremost being clean, and sober.

Two young women Katie and Erica stopped by this afternoon to have me switch my gas provider. It turns out a competitive and healthy approach with alternative choices was created, thanks to the deregulation of natural gas. One of the many business monopolies created during a past relapse in American history. Honestly, I could give two cents less than the cost of a turd, who I am paying for gas. But, I must and so must you because it is when we don’t that we lose the whole concept of democracy and America. We end up with the only options being lining the pockets of the already wealthy. Putting more money in the Walton and Bevo’s families pockets. I for one still wish the IGA was on high street. For that that matter Post Pharmacy.

In recovery they say, It’s progress not perfection. It seems to me, progress is only progress though, if your unhappy with where you’re at. When considering the re-election of “drugs and alcohol” for another term, it seems unlikely they will provide me with what clean and sober has for their short time in office. Repeating my history, much like America has over and over again will end in tragedy for me. Much as others enjoy the tragic, personally, I can not withstand a few more years to the taskmaster, “addiction”. I wonder… can America continue its addiction to the lies, without suffering the continued consequences of those at the top ignoring those of us in the middle and the bottom? Looks are all to often deceiving. Sometimes, lemonade is just that, lemonade… a deliciously cool and refreshing beverage. At other times it’s the story (kool-aid) we tell about being misled, hey listen this, you won’t believe this, one time when I was drunk and it turns out to just be a huge glass of piss. Don’t be foolish, maybe just drink the water in 2020.

As always thanks for popping by, Duane.

Circus Life.

I have not yet written about the pink cloud, until now.

And not because I have not heard of it. But, because I knew I wasn’t experiencing it, as always links below. Basically it is the experience of euphoria often associated with early recovery. An idea that things will be amazing now because you have detoxed and are not using anymore. Balderdash and rot. I have been lucky enough to have had this experience while at an all time low in my life. Today was not a good day. And I am thankful for that.

They are undeniably beautiful. Some argue helpful, others not so much.

In the not to distant past being just short of homelessness and having a child who hates me, I am also broke, can not currently drive, but own two vehicles. Twice in the last week people have stolen money from me at work. I have a women who is garnishing my wages over a non-existent damages from an accident eight months ago. The last of which has resulted in my being unable to perform duties, at a job I truly enjoy. To add some insult to injury, I receive daily phone calls from a long list of creditors that I abused during my self abuse. I am okay with all this. I am still shining through. It may take me years to get back to where I was before this last relapse. My daughter and I may never speak again, but this is why we had two. Just kidding. A sense of humor and being honest about what is happening in my life is paramount to enduring the rigors of the circus my life is at the moment. Perhaps some day there will be a comedy special. For now I will all have to settle for this blog.

Having said all this, nothing is more important than my staying true to myself. One of the things that is making that possible is prayer. I pray all day long, quietly to myself as the needs arise. I pray in my home every morning and before bed. At those times loudly and proudly. I’ve never been a big fan of those who pray openly in public at restaurants. Not because I don’t understand why, now. It is right to give him thanks and praise. But, because God is always present and knows if you are thankful. Thankful for all for the things he provides, including food.

I read regularly, search available information on the archangels so as to know who, how and where to direct my prayers. As I have mentioned before… God is busy. So I use the tools he has left us for enlightenment and answers to the daily problems of life. They haven’t stopped just because I have. Using Gods tools is working far better than using (mine). It is all very new and I am still learning much. Understanding these newly discovered gifts and tools, and how best to use them, it seems I am always apologizing. The exact direction of this blog seems to be constantly changing too. Maybe it is supposed to be though?

I had intended to start this entry a little differently than I have. Messages came loud and clear though. I was simply too tired and I wasn’t hitting my mark. After a few good nights rest and some food (which I was thankful and gave thanks for) I have awoken this morning far more refreshed and ready to tackle my next assignment. The juggling act.

It looks like more work than it is. Beside the reward is worth it.

This story is really about all the unpleasant and other complicated personalities in attendance at the circus. On a recent trip to Meijer I was reminded of what a condescending, arrogant ass I could be at times, even while pretending to be polite and helpful. I am lucky enough now to be using the tools available. H.A.L.T (hungry, angry, lonely and tired) all by itself is an enormous amount of assistance. Again God takes care of those who are taking care of themselves first… we are the easiest. So when I am hungry I eat. When I am angry I ask myself why? It’s a hell of a lot easier to process your anger if you actually take the time to understand why your angry. Many times it’s related something entirely different than the situation at hand. You’d be surprised how often it isn’t even justified. Or maybe you wouldn’t, but just don’t want to admit that to others.

I am never lonely anymore. Gods presence and his love has completely filled that gap. I do however, from time to time feel there is a need for socialization. I am far more selective and careful now about who I choose and where I spend this time. Misery loves company. It is like a magnet for negativity and evil. Don’t believe me? Just spend some time with an addict, anyone interested in complaining or better yet ask a recovering addict. Being tired is a big one for me now. As I hurtle towards deaths door like an aging, aching old plow ox. I find relaxing, rest and recharging are like I imagine heaven itself to be.

Are you sure there isn’t even one roll under in the cabinet, honey?

We best get back to Meijer for god sake. After all the trek through the parking lot itself takes almost a half hour. What made this trip so enlightening was my search to find, Drakes. A delicious batter used by professional chefs in a variety of recipes and in restaurants all over the globe. You may not know what it is, but you’ve tasted it most certainly.

With the recent announcement of our local Kroger’s closing and my current driving situation. I have had to make adjustments in my shopping destinations. For one I am back to shopping at Meijer. I don’t mind saying I preferred the old set-up of the store and I find that now they have less variety and selection now. Plus, if I am being honest about it, I spend far more time wandering around because I no longer no where anything is. Not that it was an easy in and out before the remodel.

I need to preempt this story with the fact that having just left work I was exhausted and starving. So there I was looking for Drakes. I had been up and down aisle ten (baking needs, shortening, oil, etc.,) a few times. I figured I am on the right track. I was and was not. Looking to avoid having to bother anyone, partly because I understand being in service and that they are busy, restocking and preforming other duties. Mostly, though finding someone is a task unto itself. After several failed attempts pacing up and down the aisle I threw in the towel and began my search for assistance. In a few short moments much to my surprise I found a gal restocking a few aisles down at an end cap no less. Eureka! This brought me such joy (its the little things now).

That was until, I began to explain what I was looking for and she cut me short… blurted out, ‘aisle ten” and essentially shooed me away. I began to open my mouth again, but she fiercely and forcibly thrust her arm pointing in the direction of aisle ten and again scurried me along. This time with a snarky, “aisle ten is right there!” “Thank you for your help”, I said loudly, but in a hushed tone added under my breath “and for being so pleasant.” So I slunk off a little embarrassed (its not as if people weren’t around or I am human) and also now a little frustrated and upset. Interestingly, not upset so much because she was rude and insensitive to my needs, or a simple plea for assistance. But, because I could feel her lousy attitude affecting my already unbalanced one. I was hangry and tired, a trifecta! All the potentials for disaster existed.

I looked up and down “ten”… again, no luck. I had a brief stroke of genius! And headed to the fresh fish counter. ‘Maybe it’s over there”, I say aloud to myself garnering a few strange looks. But at this point any option or ridicule that didn’t include another risky encounter with little miss sunshine was preferred. So off I went… I had begun silently praying already after our initial meeting. Asking for help with my hunger and frustration over the fruitless exchange. Oh… what I wouldn’t have given for small banana or even a grape at this point. So, so hungry.

It is right to give him thanks and praise.

Much to my chagrin, no luck there either though. Around the corner perhaps my salvation was waiting. Stocking prepackaged steaks or some other meat product was a women dressed in all white donning a cap who clearly worked in the fresh meat and seafood department. An internal dialogue had again begun. I was weighing the best approach and possible outcomes to another hazardous attempt and plea for help. I feared my fragile and already bruised, but substantial ego will not be able to bear another attack resulting in an embarrassing and loud outburst from me. Feelings of justification or not, this isn’t a person I wish to be any longer or to become for any reason. Not even for Drakes.

So, timidly and with a ballerinas tiptoe step I approached the said female. A smile so enormously and broadly spread across my face that previously nonexistent dimples were beginning to form in my cheeks. With a whisperers voice (certainly not my forte’) I said to her, “Pardon me. I hate to bother you. I can see you are busy…” And again I am cut off before finishing my sentence.

This time though my vision in white turned to me with an even bigger smile than my own saying, “No, no it’s no bother how may I help you?” So for the second time while on this shopping trip I was filled with joy. I explained to her that I was looking for… Drakes. She knew what it was, Jackpot!

Without warning though her pleasant appearance suddenly took on a look of befuddlement. The smile that once greeted me so warmly had all but vanished. It was apparent she too, was unsure of where to find the elusive “Drakes”. Fortunately for us there was a man too clad in all white, who was also stocking meat products. She began heading in his direction. But, with a swift swerve to the left moved past the gentleman to ask a different associate for guidance. With her back to us, face deep into the end cap, she was pulling product forward or as they say in the biz, facing. I immediately recognized that I had already sought counsel in my quest from the cold cruel back we were now facing. It is my Meijer archenemy. Unbeknownst to my angel in white she was about began an inquiry down a dark path with a devil woman. “Hey, do you know where the Drakes is?” she asked with a lithe in her lilt.

Nary a passing glance in our direction, but with a hatred for all mankind in her voice she let out a primal and guttural, “Didn’t I tell you it is in aisle ten already!” An audible gasp could be heard from my champion. A little rattled herself or perhaps concerned for our safety, she swiftly returned to my side. For only a moment I wished she would grab a hold of my hand. Instead, we just turned and headed for dreaded aisle ten, yet again on my beset pilgrimage for Drakes.

My new meat goddess and I stood in the aisle. We looked for, but were unable to see any boxes marked, “Drakes”, for what felt like an eternity. High and low, left and right we stood, eyes glazed over, scanning the area along aisle ten that the she-devil had pointed us to. All the while our now common foe standing nearby aggressively blurting out over and over again, “IT’S RIGHT THERE, IT’S RIGHT THERE!”, in a most loud and agitated shrill voice. Her once polarized disdain for me now replaced with an annoyance for an incompetent peer and as it were possible… even more hatred for me, as a consumer with needs. Ironically, she had been right after all. It was in aisle ten. The other half of aisle ten. The long separation between all the aisles (an aisle itself), doesn’t mark the beginning of new aisles, it’s just a comma before the continuation. A moment of her time and an ounce of kindness would have led me in the right direction.

My “Drakes” now in hand, turning quickly on my heels before evil end-capper left. I felt a few things needed to be said, “Thank you. Have a great day. I have no doubt you will… while your continuing to ruin other peoples day with your lousy attitude.” This time though in a voice full of strength. My sirloin sweetie smiled and apologized for her co-workers attitude. I thanked her and bid her farewell. I stopped part way to the checkout turned around and went back to the prepackaged princess adding a much appreciated and seldom heard, “Hey thank you so much for taking the time to help me. I really appreciate it. Have a great day.”

The wonderful part of this story for me is not letting someone else have control of my day. My moment or my emotions. No pink cloud… shit happens, people are mean, rude and inconsiderate all too often. We so quickly react in our self absorbed, walk into traffic cell phone obsessed, everything at the touch of a button, do it yourself check-out, bring it to my house world, that it feels like we are forgetting how to just be civil to each other for even the simplest of intrusions into our lives. Something as simple as directions. I am in the service industry and see it everyday and everywhere. I am less guilty of this than in my past, but I will still be working on it. Working on myself. Diligently and constantly.

In this circus we call life trying to juggle all the roles we play, responsibilities, obligations and commitments we have, it is so easy to let common courtesy slip by. Especially for the stranger. But even worse I’ll bet if you think about it… Taking the time to be grateful and thankful to those you love and truly appreciate escapes you as well. Everyone needs to know that they are appreciated. That the things they do for others don’t go unnoticed. This shouldn’t be why we do them. But, it should be why we make a point of letting others know we are paying attention and that they are appreciated.

I didn’t go back and sit with angry lady to counsel her and find out what her anger was from. That would just be weird. I do think she needed a hug, but instead as I headed for checkout, “Drakes” in hand, I prayed for her. I pray for all those I feel are hurting now. I don’t know what her hurt is. But, I know we all do. And I know that being cruel to others for no apparent reason is most likely a result of something else H.A.L.T, or otherwise. So I pray for them. I pray for myself for patience, understanding, wisdom, and the courage to let the moment pass. I pray that God provides counsel for them. That they receive his light and are willing to accept it. Even if they don’t and aren’t interested, it makes my humanity grow and brings me closer to him.

As always thanks for popping in, Duane.

http://www.drakesbattermix.com/recipes

https://addictionresource.com/treatment/pink-cloud-syndrome/

https://www.bible.com/

http://www.aa.org/

https://na.org/

https://www.ringling.com/

https://www.meijer.com/

http://www.thekrogerco.com/

Spirit in the Sky

Recently I watched a movie that rolled into my cue on Netflix called, “Come Sunday”. The synopsis of this 2018 American television drama is the excommunication of Bishop Carlton Pearson a protege of Oral Roberts and rising star on the evangelist circuit directed by Joshua Martson. The reason for his excommunication… inclusion. He had the audacity to suggest that all of Gods children would be welcomed into heaven regardless of being saved. That in fact Gods offering of his son as a sacrifice for our sins was enough and that hell may not even exist. That of course goes against all fundamental principles of elitism, modern religion and flies in the face of fundamentalist christian beliefs.

It is an awful like how our country is now being run. If you are white wealthy and on the “right side” then your welcome to an opinion, maybe even welcomed into the cabinet. That is until you question the agenda and then, well… We have all seen the numerous results of speaking out in that forum all over the news. But I digress.

I wrote of watching a sermon on the, “End of Days” not long ago. Below is a link if you are interested. Kinda heavy, and a little goofy (buckleytab). Interestingly, I had a conversation with a young lady I work with previous to watching this presentation. She is a sixteen year old girl. And she is very involved with her local church. She attends services regularly and does some mission work. As a matter of fact she was using her spring break from high school to head down to Tennessee. Just imagine this for your spring break… The plan, provide aid for those in need, attend rallies and I am hoping just have some fun. I am more than old enough to be her father and yet here I was asking her all the questions.

Mathew 19:14 But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven. Basically the kids are running the show down here and up there… Ironic isn’t it. So who was I not to ask this child about how to have a closer relationship with God and better yet, what the benefits she felt were in having one? Without hesitation she spoke of the “end of days”, entry into heaven and eternal salvation. Understandably, I am not sure she fully grasped it all, but she certainly wasn’t questioning it. As I stood there explaining to her my recent connection with God, my fear of not accepting his gift, using it and moving forward to be a soldier for his message, an analogy entered my thoughts.

Don’t be an ass! Fly the friendliest skies with God as your co-pilot… First class!

I said to her, “my biggest fear since I have received this amazing gift is losing it. How could I possibly ignore it? Oh, I suppose I could, but… what happens? If God goes out of his way to provide you with his grace, (which he did) and you deny him. What then?” Quite honestly, I was a little shaken at the thought. Then I remembered the movie, “Come Sunday”.

I had agreed with Bishop Pearson, heaven is all inclusive. The best resorts are, right? Just as the video I watched on the end of times had suggested there are levels to heaven and there accessibility. I began to question why we would settle for a coach ticket to the pearly gates or anything less when we are being offered a first class upgrade? I have been. What fool turns this down? Not even this non-drinker (I think soon to be ex-smoker) can’t see the benefit to a larger seat, being the first off and a better view. Do they still offer a meal? Maybe the masses are going to heaven. But, those who aren’t getting the all access back stage passes, a seat with a view, beverage service, or the free bag of peanuts are creating their own living hell right now.

Heaven can be a place on earth, if you choose it.

Imagine all those you know that have a relationship with God and are genuinely living their best lives, hardworking, loving individuals who have faith, volunteer and serve the lord. First class. Then there are those who pretend. They go through the motions, but they are holiday Christians and those who want others to believe they are good people. They get bogged down in the perception of Christianity. Oh sure, from time to time they may even preform some volunteer work or give to charity, but ultimately they are truly serving themselves. Their being good is mostly based on selfishness, and appearances not godliness. Welcome to business class. It isn’t that they don’t believe or don’t want to do more it is just that they are too busy. Remember what “busy” stands for.

The next group is what I previously believed I belonged in until I wrote this piece. I thought I was a questionable believer. We were all flying coach. We have some idea of a creator and that maybe we should live a better. But we’re only going around once, we’d better make the most of this party while we’re here. We too may pop into a church now and again or even preform a modest volunteer activity if it doesn’t coincide with other plans. Or something better comes up.

In reality I was probably closer to this group, the second to last group. Flying cargo. Yup they still get to come. Everyone does. I think these folks are probably the ones who are the last to truly believe, but then who wouldn’t believe with fire raining from the sky?

And then finally Stand-by. Those too busy providing some form of service for Satan. I would have been with this group. Had I not accepted the light of God. But, I imagine the waiting is going to be much like an airport lounge. Long lines, mediocre service and a really steep price to pay. What if your heaven for this group is just an eternity of the hell I wrote of above. A continued version of the life you chose to lead… your living hell. For me that would have been continued drug use, stranger after stranger, emptiness, loneliness, disconnect, disillusion, black outs, disease and eventual death. All the while the rest of you reunited with our father? I’m in the same house, but can’t reach him, ugh. Isn’t that kinda like being stuck behind a beam at the old, Tigers Stadium? You can hear the game but can’t see it. Everyone else excited about the play, but you have to wait for it to appear on the big screen. Oh, wait did they have one…? Egad!

Would you miss something you never knew? But, do you not already know it? Are you leading or living a life that has you less than fulfilled? Is this how you want to spend the rest of your time here, unfulfilled? And are you prepared to risk that way of life for all entirety… still disconnected from our father? Yikes. As sure as I am of heaven, I am not!

As always thanks popping in, Duane

https://www.facebook.com/buckleytab/videos/730686333993985/

https://www.bible.com/#!

https://binged.it/2FBCF2t

Joints and Other Junk

I turned the news on this morning to the sounds of sobbing coming from my television. Lanita Carter one of R. Kelly’s many accusers was saying with tears streaming down her face, “I don’t want to be in the public. If I die tomorrow I know I told the truth.” She refers to how good the release feels, I get it. At my six month check up I was asked and I explained that I have some pains. We talked of aging and arthritis. How I need to call a new PA and schedule another appointment. There are medications to help fight its growth and we need to rule rheumatoid arthritis out. The Stones were right. What a drag it is getting old. Surprisingly, I hate pills. But when properly prescribed and necessary, I suppose there is no harm…? Or so I thought.

At work last night I waited on an old High school gym teacher and a group of her friends. Waiting tables is a lot like being a Catholic priest behind the cloak of a confessional booth. Folks enter. Sit. And then begin their purge knowing all the time the priest is just behind the screen listening, ready to offer the lords forgiveness. Except in my case you are escorted and asked if you’d prefer a booth or a table? Folks sit down and simply forget you are there. It isn’t rude or intentional, its what people do. But then, they too begin their confessions. Catch up on the days events, gossip, swap stories and share their experience all with each other. I do not offer salvation, but I do bring it in the form of food and beverages. I imagine and envy all the fabulous conversations and ridiculousness cab drivers overhear and must see. Often I only catch bits and pieces of conversations. But ask any server, bartender or cab driver and they’ll probably agree, we should take a HIPPA oath and have forms available prior to getting their drink orders or letting folks in the cab. In this scenario I happened to be standing next to the table at a computer and heard the entire conversation.

I won’t be breaking any confidentiality with this retelling. They were discussing Rheumatoid arthritis. Go figure? I perked up and began intently eavesdropping. One of my favorite passed times at work. Plus, one of the few benefits I enjoy in the industry. The retirement plan is rather lacking. So I take what I can get. Deb one of our delightful regular patrons was talking about a friend who had just been prescribed a Rheumatoid arthritis medication that ultimately caused him to suffer the onsets of leukemia. So, of course… I joined the conversation and shared with them my discussion the previous day with my doctor.

It pains me to have to say I am in fact middle aged. I am finding I have far more in common with the over seventy crowd nowadays than I would like to admit. The group consisted of older women. Some of them were strangers, but none the less this didn’t prevent us from talking about my health issues and them openly beginning to share theirs. We were off to the races. I know have a new prognosis for dealing with my onset arthritis. And they a lasting impression and story of their waiters morning routine, complete with a reenactment of removing the covers which included some well timed grunting. Very enjoyable banter.

A spiritual awakening is a hell of a process. Honestly it has been a little overwhelming. Daily now I receive wonderful advice and insights form others. I am slow to make many changes or jump head strong into much. Understandably, for those that read “KABOOM”. It was a little revealing and perhaps not one that would make people all together comfortable. It sure as hell didn’t me. Except that it forced me to deal with some long time lingering issues and removed any and all secrets from my world. It was well balanced with my personality and Gods will for me. I fretted about it some. Even considered removing it. In the end pressing the publish button felt a little like well… here is a post from my Facebook page a few months ago,

That moment whatever has been lodged in your gum line frees itself… heavenly!

I wake this morning now finding myself less encumbered by my past indiscretions and considerably less interested in the negative aspects of the world we live in. I was thinking about brain tumors while making my morning coffee. Much like the cause of Deb’s friends leukemia being the Rheumatoid arthritis medication. Wouldn’t everyone be so relieved if it turned out the byproduct of a tumor being pressed against my frontal lobe was the cause of this spiritual awakening. That is so much easier to accept in our world. Surely there must be an earthly reason for all of this sudden honesty, acceptance and oversharing. Nope…

it’s God.

As always thanks for popping in, Duane

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/leukemia/symptoms-causes/syc-20374373

https://www.colgate.com/en-us/oral-health/conditions/gum-disease

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/rheumatoid-arthritis/symptoms-causes/syc-20353648

https://www.hippa.com/

https://www.bible.com/#!

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/r-kelly-accuser-lanita-carter-speaks-out-im-not-ashamed-of-what-naysayers-say/

KABOOM!

It isn’t the things we are comfortable with that make us grow… but the things we aren’t.

I am a good person, but…

If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change.

Something a little different was needed to begin this blog entry, an affirmation. This wasn’t my idea, but then neither was the blog. I am now receiving all kinds of advice. All solicited, I have asked not only for other peoples assistance in this process, but as you all know Gods. It’s funny how when you pray for some things they take forever and yet others, well… BOOM! God answered today and how. So, I’m starting with the man in the mirror and asking him to change his ways… NO MESSAGE COULD HAVE BEEN ANY CLEARER!

For some odd reason some of my strongest contact with Jesus and the angels occurs while showering. Maybe it is the vulnerability. A connection to birth and being naked, who knows? As the Michael above… Jackson, that is, not the Archangel was singing, “Man in the Mirror” while I showered my next best steps came flooding in. They rained down on me as if the very droplets of water were themselves delivering the message. Gods next directive for me…

Family Forgiveness

My dear friend Janet right before she called me an asshole said, “Do you even know how to apologize?” BOOM. I do, but like a lot of things for me, it doesn’t come easily. In the past during periods of recovery I have just assumed since my behavior was reflective of new changes in my ways of thinking, that somehow those I love and have concerned, upset, neglected and embarrassed over the many years would automatically understand, how sorry I am. Sorry for my behavior and the ways in which I have hurt them. While continuing to shower I was also struck by the complexity of what a strange emotion, hurting really is.

I am hurting right now, immeasurably. I have several different kinds of hurt right now. Some concern my daughters. Others are related to grieving over previous practices of my past and feeling loss. But, at the moment the real hurt and real issue is that for the first time, even with Gods presence I feel like using. BOOM. Ironically because of this blog and my new relationship with God. Not because I want to use. But, again ironically because of this blog and my new relationship with God. That was not an editing error. The sentence was repeated twice purposefully.

Help. I have done it again. I have been here many times before… Hurt myself again today. And the worst part is there’s no one else to blame.

I am absolutely sure I won’t use. However, it is the same reason I want to use. While showering I was asked to write my cousin Sarah and her new husband Frank. I owe them an apology. It would be easier to do, if I could remember all the ways in which, I was inappropriate at their wedding. But “fireball” is an unforgiving bastard when it comes to black outs. So here and again privately, I will say, to my cousin and her wonderful husband… I am sorry. Sorry for any disruption my behavior may have caused on your special day. Also, for any discord the boys feel towards me.

In addition to being asked to get off my ass, write the apology or maybe because it was sitting on my to do list for some time. God added to and amended the task. He asked for a taller order. BOOM. It is truly something to have the presence of Jesus with you and feel comfort. It is something entirely different to know what he is asking of you will cause discomfort not only for yourself, but the ones you love. This was exactly what the message I received had outlined.

While washing my hair I came to realize the different kinds of hurt associated with my addict behavior over the years. And how it has affected my family. I could have curled up in a ball on the shower floor and wept, but instead the addict came out raging, begging to be fed. I have never felt so uncomfortable in life. I could throw up, right now, while I am typing this very sentence.

God wants me to admit a couple of things. Come clean and ask my family for forgiveness. The worst part isn’t the admitting. It is my knowing that they all already know, but have still loved and cared for me despite that. Until I just wrote that sentence I didn’t even know this was why I was asked to write this entry. I’m in tears again. Time for a break.

Over and again… mysterious ways. Asking us to do things we aren’t comfortable with is one of the many ways in which our faith is tested. I wanted to finish this entry last night, but just wasn’t able. I needed to rest and recharge my batteries. One of the things I’ve discovered is that always being there to pick up the pieces of a broken down addict is exhausting. So too, is giving of ones self. I need to take care of myself in order to try and help in the aid of others. AA and other twelve step programs say it something like this, “For us to keep what we have, we must be willing to give it away. But, in order to have something to give, you must keep a little.” Or maybe I just made that up. To see if I would, is not only mysterious, but also… an extremely good gauge of the new soldier.

A friend sent me a video on the, “End of days”. I think that is what brought me here for this journal entry. Decidedly, it was not only a little frightening, but made it undeniably clear those truly committed to Jesus as it is written, will lose everything defending his word. Those we love and care for, our possessions… all worldly things. There is a huge upside, but that is a different entry all together. Back to task.

As for my immediate and extended families including close friends. I am so sorry. There has been hurt. With issues ranging from our grandmother (there is a reason I got that cookie jar, that beautiful woman loved me, this I know!), my situation with my grandfather (I wrote about it a recent post), our beloved Aunt Phil (awkward for all of us… I lost one of my champions, in the end we all did). The lost jail time, hospitalizations, injures, re-habs, weddings, receptions, missed holidays, divorce, money issues, lies, disrespect, disappointments and I am sure much more.

I see things more clearly now as a clean and sober adult. That is not an excuse, but a reality. And with the light of God at my side in fact, I can’t seem to stop seeing and hearing the messages. The hurt that is caused is like an elaborately constructed maze of dominoes. Families operate on a delicate and sensitive scale. The saying, “if mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy” is around for a reason.

Give it a listen.

From what would seem the smallest disappointment to the grandest celebrations. Every situation in a family has an effect on every other member of that family (this is true for society, as well, but I am starting with my family). Why would my struggle be any different or have any less impact on those around me? As addicts we don’t see this and unfortunately, our numbers are large.

Have I mentioned my troubled youth? Looking back I see the formation of an addict now. Once at a psychiatrists office, the SOB (I may still be harboring a little resentment. I’ll work on that later.) used a metaphor to describe us, my family. The accuracy is not relevant, although perhaps had some validity. A licensed healer with an MD should have a better set of principles and skills than this… “Imagine your family is a boat on the ocean and everyone is on board except Duane. He is flying solo, circling above… a kamikaze pilot. You and the rest of your family are the only target in the sight.” BOOM! We did not continue to see him. In retrospect, maybe we should have given it some more thought. Perhaps, we would have all discovered I wasn’t in a plane overhead, but rather stuck in a lifeboat on the ocean alone myself. Waiting to be rescued, too.

Today my mother drove me to an appointment for my HIV. It is the first opportunity we’ve had to talk privately about my current situation, blog and transformation. To my great surprise she not only reads it, but thinks it is insightful and well written (for the most part, she was an English teacher after all). As we spoke, the book we talked about writing together that I have referenced in the blog previously was brought up. She reminded me that one of the reasons we hadn’t continued with the concept was hurting others, not just each other. Ironic…right? My children in particular. They were around eight and ten at the time. Well they are young women now. And unfortunately still being hurt.

Hurting those I love and care about as a practicing addict was a natural phenomenon and occurrence. It still appears to be. We, my mother and I talked about other possible venues for my outlet and purge. Those more appropriately suited for the information I include in this blog. I shared with her a story. I’ll share it with you now. A friend suggested the other day I call my sponsor… but, I don’t have one. Virtually every sponsor I have had over the three decades bouncing in and out of twelve step programs and even several of my therapists, has hit on and tried or successfully got me into bed. Productive and healthy recovery counseling with someone trying to put their dick in your mouth is a most difficult undertaking.

So when is a good time for a recovering addict to share their story? I’ve shared mine at AA meetings and been asked out to drink afterwards. I’ve shared it at NA meetings and have found new suppliers and brand new friends to use with. Just the other day I shared it with an active addict. Within hours he asked if I could help him cop (acquire drugs). Lord knows I shared it every day with all of you when I was using. It was written all over my face, in my actions, and my words then. So why now in my recovery choose to disguise the ugly truth. We let that continue for years.

And I am not done yet… there are the missed events with family and friends; showers, weddings, recitals, first dates, bed time stories, parent teacher conferences and of course all the broken promises. But then again you would have to be invited or asked to such things. BOOM! A dear friends sister got married not to long ago and I wasn’t invited. The situation was awkward for all of us. She unnecessarily apologized at a Christmas celebration at their parents home. Both she and her partner are also dear friends, horrible golfers, but dear friends. Just kidding guys.

We hugged. I love her and her partner very much. Here is why I take the blame for the brunt of these missed opportunities to share in family and friends, “Most of us don’t know what to say or how to approach a tweaked out junkie version of a person we used to know. We purse our lips and internally, say, “Aw that is too bad. What a shame. I hope he/she gets it together.” But we are frightened and paralyzed too. Ironically, by their addiction. Because in that moment it is ours too. We are just as unsure as the addict themselves of how to help or what to say.” This a direct quote from myself about myself in, “Chasing My Tail” a previous blog post. Being clean and sober produces the most wonderful things,
I have already received an invitation to their baby shower. BOOM!

I am not a stranger to the dark. Hide away they say cause we don’t want your broken parts. I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars. “Run away” they say. ‘no one’ll love you as you are”

I guess, what I am saying is… we are all hurting. For my part in causing others hurt in the past, I am truly sorry. Most likely I will never be able to remember all of the damage, rectify or make up for much of hurricane Duane’s destruction. That doesn’t mean I won’t try. Or I don’t care. Some won’t accept or forgive. I am prepared for that. If hurt and suffering were declared disasters we would all be receiving checks from FEMA. We all play a part. We all cause and we all create hurt. My intent is not to cause more heartache and pain for you or myself. So, for my part in causing hurt now with the words I write and the things I share. Again, I am truly sorry. Especially for those inadvertently affected…

but… nothing, I am a good person!

I have revealed and shared much in this entry. Far too much I am sure. I am tired though and my time is limited. This may cost me even more. I am also prepared for that. I have made more than my fair share of mistakes in the first two thirds of my life. And for that I offer more apologies. But, I am paying the prices for all of them now. Many are exorbitant, and most certainly not monetarily. What I won’t do, is spend what little precious time I may have left in this world being scared and afraid anymore. If this sounds unsympathetic or hostile it isn’t meant to be. It is just what having faith in Christ has provided me with; Peace, comfort and acceptance in things I’ve done, who I am and the direction I am to go.

After a hurricane comes a rainbow… BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

We are one.

As always thanks for popping in, Duane.

http://www.aa.org/

https://www.bible.com/

https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/default.html

https://www.hiv.gov/hiv-basics

https://na.org/