We're alive, please be gentle

This is from a blog I read often and I thought I would share... Brit Barkholtz

WE’RE ALIVE, PLEASE BE GENTLE

Posted on: 18 December 2014

I recently attended a friend’s wedding in Seattle. Though I’ve been to Seattle before, it had been at least ten years since I was last there, so I took some time to be a typical tourist and enjoy the city. While browsing a museum gift shop, I noticed some small plants on a shelf—miniature plants, about half the size of my palm.  A small sign was perched in front of them, reading, “We’re alive, please be gentle.” My initial thought was that it was a smart sign: I had assumed the plants were fake—which was apparently a common misconception. But as I continued to browse the store, the sign stuck in my mind. 

“We’re alive, please be gentle.” 

To apply this sign to people might seem like a pretty simple concept, but I wonder how often we end up forgetting it. It only takes about five minutes of watching the news to realize we do not live in a gentle world. Wars and violent conflict make headlines across the globe. People around the world are oppressed for any number of reasons—their gender identity, their race, their religion, their sexual orientation, or their economic status. We see national and global corporations earning a profit off marginalized people seeking better options. Greed and corruption permeate the social and political spectrums, leaving many people struggling to get by.  I wish I could somehow remind people all across the world: “We’re alive, please be gentle.”

To think so large-scale might be unrealistic, so I want to bring this message a little closer to home. A recent study by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration found that one in five Americans are living with some type of mental health condition. This means the odds are good that you know someone affected by mental illness, or maybe you, yourself, have experience living with mental illness. Mental health conversations are often met with stigma rather than compassion, judgment rather than gentleness. So how do we push back against that reality in our own relationships?

When it comes to being gentle with others, I think it’s most important to never underestimate the power of listening. If someone is struggling and opens up to you, they probably aren’t looking for you to have all the answers. People want to be heard, and they want to know that their voice, their story, has value. Affirm the worries and fears, the hopes and dreams of the people around you. I find it to be quite humbling and a great honor when someone opens up to me and shares their life with me. It takes so much courage for most of us to share those pieces of ourselves, and we should be proud of every single person who does it. It’s also important to encourage and support each other and not get frustrated about bumps along the way. Remember: Love, support, and kindness are not things you only give to others when everything is going well for them. 

But what if we focus the lens even closer? How often do we take the time to think about how to be gentle with ourselves? If you are anything like me, this is the toughest one. I get mad at myself for setbacks, frustrated and impatient with my own limitations, and ashamed of myself for my struggles. I say hateful, hurtful things to and about myself that I would never say to or about anyone else. I am my own toughest critic and worst cheerleader. I can turn a small misstep into a self-hate spiral in record time.

And then I remember: “We’re alive, please be gentle.”

Be gentle with yourself. Be patient with yourself as you live and learn and grow. You’re going to make mistakes—we all do. But forgive yourself for them. Try not to get frustrated with the pace of whatever journey you’re on. Meet yourself where you are. Don’t give up on yourself. Treat yourself when you need a pick-me-up, and give yourself permission to rest when you need a break. Congratulate yourself on progress, big or small, and don’t tear yourself apart for stalls or setbacks. Speak words of kindness to yourself—if you wouldn’t say it to your best friend, don’t say it to yourself. Encourage yourself, affirm yourself. And if you need help with any of it, ask! Remind yourself that you deserve to be happy and healthy. Remind yourself that your story matters, that you matter, and that you are irreplaceable. Love yourself, because you are important and worthy of love.

And on the days when it feels just a little too dark, remember: “We’re alive, please be gentle.” 

http://twloha.com/blog

Trying to Sleep- May 18, 1991

You lie still

trying to hide yourself from the continuos throbbing

moist and dark are the only characteristics of your immediate surroundings

the pounding continues

as you attempt to bury your face into your fluffy but damp pillow

the pulsating digs and claws

with each echoing thump

you consider your life, your problems

you look around the bare and empty room

your thoughts continue as does the throbbing

once again you roll over

attempting to hide and escape

feeling isolated and overwhelmed.

An excerpt from May 18, 1991

B

If Normal were a color- An open letter to young readers

Painting a picture of normal 

If normal were a color it would have many profound shades. Many struggle with the palette of normal and believe to their core they are not. However who claims normal to be a pure consistent hue of certainty? We know young people struggle with personal identification and normalcy. We know many adults model what they believe to be a normal persona in thought and action. Young people are particularly susceptible to decision making which may have an immediate effect on their current situation. Most who suffer from behavioral health issues seek a life of pure consistent normalcy. This innate drive is fostered by internal and external factors alike. Young people want to feel, be normal to others. They seek concrete reinforcement form their immediate surroundings. I was never comfortable with myself as an adolescent. I never felt as though I fit in. I surrounded myself with others who didn't fit in. I engaged in behaviors which made me numb to the uncomfortableness. I felt lost, trapped, hopeless. I put myself in the position to allow others to define me, my character. No matter how hard I tried I could not find normal…or at least what I thought normal should be. As I have grown older I still struggle with the socially acceptable “normal”. I still do not know what that means and I somehow have found comfort in understanding that there are many shades of normal. 

In my painting of normal there are many colors and shades, on most days my painting looks completely different then it did the day before. And I find comfort in that.

if you struggle with normal please know you are not alone, if you cannot find someone to talk to out of fear of judgement, please know I understand. 

B

Red Ribbon Week

From October 23-31 we collectively participate in Red Ribbon Week. Many, if not all of our schools will join in celebrating a week of drug awareness. Spending a small amount of time on redribbion.org, the story of Red Ribbon week and its creation can be found and the story of Enrique (Kiki) Camarena a Drug Enforcement Administration Agent who was tortured and killed in Mexico in 1985.

“In honor of Camarena's memory and his battle against illegal drugs, friends and neighbors began to wear red badges of satin. Parents, sick of the destruction of alcohol and other drugs, had begun forming coalitions. Some of these new coalitions took Camarena as their model and embraced his belief that one person can make a difference. These coalitions also adopted the symbol of Camarena's memory, the red ribbon.”

Red Ribbon week is not only an activity for children but a call to parents and communities to become active in the education and understanding regarding the harmful effects of Drugs and Alcohol. We as community members must come forward and teach our children about the realities of and negative consequences of Substance Abuse. We must encourage, teach, and guide children to healthy alternatives.

RedRibbon.org encourages everyone to take the red ribbon pledge:

As parents and citizens, we will talk to our children and the children in our lives about the dangers of drug abuse.

We will set clear rules for our children about not using drugs.

We will set a good example for our children by not using illegal drugs or medicine without a prescription.

We will monitor our children's behavior and enforce appropriate consequences, so that our rules are respected.

We will encourage family and friends to follow the same guidelines to keep children safe from substance abuse

Red Ribbon week is reminder for us that we are tasked with the responsibility to parent the young people in our homes and communities. A sounded call to unite for the betterment of our family, all of our family.  

The rhythm of the world

Sometimes my life moves too fast. I try to slow down. I try to center, meditate, close my eyes and find peace in the rhythm of the world.

The old man sits in the building, silent

his brain races with thoughts of clouds

he hasn't seen the light of happiness

the tension puts pressure against his soul

the earth moves like a slow motion murder

he stares at the wrinkles on his hands

a map of experience, existence

he longs for relief from the echo

he misses the former version of a boy

lost in the storm 

the angels swing on the playground in silence

he has a shovel, polished 

engraved with the names of memories

the cloud seeps through the crack under the door

the string unravels

he closes his eyes, asks for peace

the clouds become a pillow

and the angels sing softly in his head

B

“Brad, this Heroin is so good it’s killing people”

Several years ago I and a group of coworkers conducted a comprehensive analysis of the client caseload I had been working with. Our purpose was to identify specific groups of drug users, the treatment modality they were referred to and completed, and their outcome in our program. We were looking for data regarding methamphetamine involved clients and how well they were doing with completion of program goals. One of the pieces of data that came from our study/ reflection was most troubling. Anyone who was coming from prison with an Opiate Dependence diagnosis and assigned to my case load was dead. They had died from Heroin overdoses, found in houses, ditches, and automobiles, usually with a needle still stuck in their arm. If they were “lucky” they reoffended and were back in prison. Every outcome regarding success was 0%. I fought back tears. I was not doing my job properly. I didn’t know how to do my job properly. I considered 0% unacceptable. I spoke to community based treatment providers who noted similar success rates, 0%. I began to work on a strategy to address this. To change the course of my work, to change my outcomes, and hopefully change lives. I began seeking education regarding street grade Heroin. I decided I was going to start discussing Heroin Dependence specific symptoms. At the same time Opioid Antagonist medications were being introduced, Medically Assisted Treatment. We knew Methadone was the “gold standard” for treating Opioid addiction that it was possible to save lives, was not available in southern Illinois, and came with much controversy.  Suboxone would become available but the way licenses were monitored many doctors had waiting lists that were years long and people continued to DIE. I started spending what I would consider “intimate” time with Heroin users, going into dope houses, taking people over and over to detox programs (some people I took 5 times, and talking about the power of Opioid addiction with anyone who would listen. I started attending trainings regarding MAT (medically assisted treatment). I learned firsthand from consumers of heroin that the “rules” no longer applied, common sense no longer existed. I was interviewing an active IV heroin user for a presentation and when I inquired about the purity levels in Southern Illinois, He responded “Brad, this Heroin is so good it’s killing people”. I knew than that all the rules were different and everything I knew about working with substance abusers was in need of modification.

I am still learning, still working one on one with heroin users, still trying to understand why people addicted to heroin are considered expendable by society, still being an advocate when I can to change the rules, still improving my outcomes (it has many years since I had a client die as a result of heroin use), and I am still looking for ways to help others to live. 

http://www.overdosepreventionalliance.org/

http://harmreduction.org/

http://broken-no-more.org/

http://www.illinoiscenterofexcellence.org/

B

I want to be the ghost

It creates a printout to track her movement, her memory

desire swirls like clouds before the storm

where has she gone

the demons scatter from the darkness

I miss her when I close my eyes

the ghosts torment me

I long to float with the clouds

the demons pull me to the ground

they have created a machine

and I want to be the ghost

Gratitude and Wednesday

This past week I was challenged to do the gratitude challenge on Facebook and I wanted to share those three days with you.

I am grateful for my family and friends who bring so much joy and many challenges to my life...without them I would be less

I am grateful that I have the ability to make choices in my daily life, I once positioned myself to allow others to dictate to me my choices.

I am grateful that I understand the difference between wanting everything I have and having everything I want

I am thankful for the ability to recognize humility and times when I need to be humble.

I am grateful that I have learned to express empathy, understanding, and compassion.

I am thankful I have been blessed with the ability to be fair and understanding of so many people from many different backgrounds and restore some sense of justice to community and to others.

I am grateful for the many amazing people I encounter in my job who bring joy and compassion to myself and others unconditionally!

I am grateful for times I laugh especially when inside I have been crying

I am grateful for my health, although it requires a bit of daily maintenance, I am healthy in my mind, body, and spirit.

If you have never done a gratitude inventory I suggest you try!

Also Wednesday is international suicide prevention day...

 You can find resources at:

http://twloha.com/

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Have a Blessed week!

B

September is Recovery Month! I have been invited to speak at several events and always am humbled that anyone is interested in what I have to say. So far all of you in recovery happy recovery month and if you are doing something special let me know!
B

http://www.recoverymonth.gov/

82.1

82.1

How do you fill the emptiness, the feeling that never goes away? 

How do you face the day, the world? 

How do you get out of bed? 

How do you continue on? 

How do you keep it to yourself?

How do you hide it?

How do you act normal?

How do you communicate with others?

How do you face yourself?

How do you explain it to others?

How do you do you?

How do you feel normal?

How do you do it?

on average 82.1 people commit suicide each day…RIP RW

My Story

many people ask me what my “turning point” was. They seem to look for the “answer” and I can admit that a combination of factors influenced my choice to choose a different path for myself. 

One of the things I encourage those struggling to change their life is to consider how they have placed themselves in a position to let others define who they are. This is what I call the gift and curse of personal change (recovery), the authority to become the true author of you story. To define who you are, to rewrite your own story. This is ultimately done through action, not words. 

I write my own story

B

clouds

I have spent the last few days staring, daydreaming, at the sky. Not because I am bored, but because the sky has been exceptionally beautiful. The clouds have been breath taking. When I look at the sky I feel grounded, centered, I feel humbled, and small. The problems of my day both real and in my head seem to drift away. The clouds are full of life and emotion. I am a day dreamer. I believe in things greater than myself. I seek comfort outside of myself. I search for refuge from myself. 

Take a moment from yourself and enjoy the world…

B

Sometimes I forget who I am.

Sometimes I forget who I am. Sometimes I forget what I do. Sometimes I don't realize my connection with others. Recently I had someone approach me at a gas station, stick their hand out to shake mine and continue to introduce themselves. A man who had heard me speak about my journey into recovery. He proceeded to tell me how he was doing, that he has been clean for 3 months. We talked about his goals, but more importantly I asked how he was dealing with himself and the world. I am always surprised when this happens as I get busy with myself and my life I forget sometimes about others and the struggles they are involved in. If you know someone who is going through a personal struggle, take a minute and ask them how they are doing. They need that, they need recognized, they need others to acknowledge and sometimes feel proud of what they are doing.

B

9,497 days...but who's counting

today is my personally recognized sobriety date. An anniversary. A rebirth day. 27 years ago I intoxicated myself for the last time. I began writing a new ending to the story of my life. I began to morn the loss of the person I was and looked towards the future with fear, hesitation, and excitement. I remember in great detail that moment I decided I was going to try something different and how scared I was of the unknown. The fact I was going to let go of everything I held dear to myself, the sickness of addiction. For the first time I began to care. Today I am still scared, still unsure of myself and my path. For 27 years I have held the course, I have not used any drug or alcohol and I continue to try something different...thank you for sharing in my journey

B

Hesitation in Motion

The second sweeps like a slow motion suicide.

The clock face pure like the bleached skull of memory past.

He leans against the steel bars, watching, waiting as the clouds build.

He hasn't seen the sky in five months and longs for its spectacle of desire.

The sun and moon sleep on the heavy black numbers.

The energy of the storm builds, the pressure lives in his head.

Like a worn place in the movement, he watches for a hesitation in motion.

He waits 

watches 

for a hesitation in motion

I hurt myself today to see if I still feel

I spend a lot of time in prisons talking to men and women about a life of recovery, a life of freedom. Free from the bondage of addiction. Many assume my own journey correlates and in some instances it does, however the link between them and I is a shared experience of pain. It’s looking someone in the eyes, the soul and sharing in a unified experience of pain and suffering. I have my own history and hold it close to my heart as a reminder of the distance I have come. The journey I am on. To never want to hurt; to not impose suffering on myself. Prisons, jails, and institutions are full of suffering, and in the perplexity of addiction, much of this suffering has been created by the sufferer through a series of poor decisions. I understand self imposed suffering. I try to be an example of someone who has struggled through parts of my life and who has made conscious effort to stop make decisions which cause me to suffer. Many do not understand why I would spend time with those incarcerated and what good this may have, and that’s okay. Much of what I do is for me also. To help me understand the distance I have come. The changes I have made. The hurt and suffering which exists. 

B

I Hurt myself today

to see if I still feel

I focus on the pain 

The only thing that's real 

The needle tears a hole

The old familiar sting 

Try to kill it all away 

But I remember everything 

I met a man today
he stood with so much pride.
he had so much pain,
but still he did survive.
the way that he spoke
sent chills down my spine
the stories he shared
opened up my eyes.
this man has made an impact
i never will forget;
how he kept pushing,
how he never quit.
so think you very much for sharing your time
and making me believe I can shine.
J. Smith

Last week I had the opportunity to speak at the gateway foundation to their alumni group and men who are in residential substance abuse treatment. I discussed my journey into recovery and tried to share a vision of hope and motivation. A young man wrote the above poem about me and I felt humbled and thankful. Hopefully he will continue on his path to recovery.

This is my 100th post; something that seemed unimaginable when I started this process. For the 5000 people who have come here thank you and to Mr. Smith I am honored
B

being scared

That day in 1988, the last time I used drugs, I was scared. I didn't understand what I was doing or what I was going to do. I knew and had learned that being in hand cuffs and living in jail cells was something I didn't want to continue doing. I literally had nothing except some drawings, some letters and a few photographs others had sent me. There is very little more demoralizing than being treated like an animal. I hated every second of it. I despised the world and wondered every minute what others where doing. I knew I wanted to try something different and made no promises to anyone. I wanted to disappear from my life. I wanted to start again. I wanted take control of writing the story of my life. I was sick to my stomach listening and reading what others had authored about my character. I had made a plethora of terrible decisions but I wanted to believe I was not a terrible person. I wanted to change my life so people would leave me alone and stop saying negative things about me; I had no clue what that meant or how I was going to do that. 

I have the opportunity to speak to many about recovery, change, and motivation. I get to re-live this moment. To go to a place deep inside myself and remember the fear, the uncomfortableness of my life. I get to feel humbled about my journey. Its easy with the business of my daily life to forget how vulnerable, scared, and fragile I feel at times. I still feel uncomfortable with the world and myself at times. I have come a long way from that person in 1988. And it has not been without mistakes, there has never been any perfection in any of this. I continue to author the story of my life. I am continually surprised when  others say nice things about me. 

I hope this story is a good one for someone to read…

B

a paper boat

memories, dreams flow like the river.

its force creates a vibration much like a locomotive

there is no love here it has been carried down stream 

the echo 

a ghost

it cannot be stopped, only muffled

we drop hope in the shape of a paper boat

on the waters edge.

a love letter to the sea

the walls talk to me

heat vibrates in the air

the ghosts cry out in silence

to be paper boats

B

two weeks

I haven’t written for 2 weeks and I must say I have missed it. I sometimes don't know what to say or what you want to hear. I was to see my psychiatrist two weeks ago and have my meds again adjusted and my appointment was changed for another month. Guess I will continue to deal with taking meds which have a negative side effect. I was to get tattooed last week and that appointment was changed to 5 weeks from now. Seems like this is how my last two weeks have been. 

I did find out I have been approved to receive my MISA (Mental Illness Substance Abuse) license. Im very excited and proud of this and have spent much time doing training on co occurring disorders and counseling techniques for individuals who have mental health and substance abuse diagnosis.

I have spent a lot of time with the kids and outdoors as the spring weather has been nice. I have been working in my garden and look forward to the harvest this year. I have started selling prints of some of my artwork on society 6 and am excited about the potential. I am getting ready to start a series of collaborative artwork with my good friend Andrew. You can see his work at http://www.andrewrigsby.com. should be great work and I'm excited about it!

I continue my personal art work daily and find much comfort in the process. 

Not sure what else to say…be blessed

B

“it's harder to make the glass than break the glass"

this week was filled with me making speaking to others. I was invited for my rotation at a prison where I conducted 5 groups with 40-50 inmates in each. that’s a lot of guys, and a lot of me talking. I spoke about learning, listening, coping skills, utilizing skills learned while in prison to have a life in recovery, a life free of the consequences of addiction and institutions…FREE. I was asked dozens of questions of how to make it, how did I make it. People looking for an answer, the answer. Unfortunately answers that a person must find on their own path. Generally I fond most people want the straight, honest answer even when it hurts. Somehow I have been blessed with the opportunity to be the bearer of this type of truth. A truth that means it’s hard, it hurts, it’s hard work. I don't believe that others don't know this, I believe that we want the easier softer way to deal with ourselves and the world.  Some people in prisons want the easier softer way, they want the answer, the fix. 

I ended my week speaking to a group of high school students about my life. That’s always a personal challenge, a place to grow. During that presentation I have to scrape the dirt off of graves I dug many years ago, expose my imperfections, admit my faults, stand in front of strangers and tell some of my secrets. Honestly admit that I am imperfect. Acknowledge my blessings and the belief that I don't know why. I loved speaking with the high school kids and they asked great questions…some of which I had no answer…which is okay.

In both speaking situations I was humbled, I admitted I do not have the answers, but I explained that the it’s harder to make the glass that break the glass…this is my life.

B

Everyone has a story...

I have several speaking engagements coming up and sometimes I am amazed anyone would want to hear me talk. I never considered myself a “public” speaker and really have spent much of my life very shy and somewhat reserved. I learned that to accomplish anything I would need to step out of my comfort zone and engage others. I was asked several years ago to tell “my story” at a private luncheon and I had never spoken open and honestly with a room of strangers about the person who I used to be and the journey I have been on. I believed my recovery, my story were things I should be ashamed of, to hide, to only share in the company of others with similar stories. I have challenged myself to make my recovery, my journey a source of pride. If I were a survivor of any other disease I would wear my pride on my sleeve. There are many things I don't understand about myself, but I have faith and hope. I don't understand why I have been blessed with the opportunity to have an audience to listen to me. My story is not that different than others’, but it’s my story…everyone has story.
B

an examination of ego

Humility. Humble. Accoutability. Power. How does one learn Humility? Can it be taught? and what does it have to do with Power. Accountability is a value, trait most of us are taught at an early age. But how accountable do we keep ourselves? and what does accountability have to do with power. I try to live my life with humility. I acknowledge my wrong doings and try to repair any harm they have caused. I try to practice the ideal “not have everything I want, but want everything I have”. I keep myself accountable. I have very little interest in power and believe in giving power to others, empowerment. 

But I am human and I have ego. And ego corrupts these tenants. I believe I have to keep my ego in check, to seek a humble existence. I observe ego in others. I watch power corrupt others, destroy people, relationships, lives. I don't know the answer to all these questions, nor do I understand the full complexities of these values, tenants. 

I know I am aware…are you?

B

restoring justice

I have spent some time the last couple of weeks contemplating justice and harm. I believe in the tenants of correcting and repairing harm. I understand that my place in the world is to make things right. I can never go back and do things over and I know I caused harm and continue to cause harm, as I am not perfect by any means. I believe part of my purpose my reason for existence is to make things right, to repay the world for everything it has given me. I encourage others to do the same. Somehow if we all give to one another maybe the world would be a better place.

Do something nice today

B

http://watch.wsiu.org/video/2365208994/

a continued dialogue with the boy

“Are you ready to put that in a coffin?”

“All that shit you carry around.”

“Are you ready to be someone other than who you think you are?”

“Can you let it go?”, “Can you be you, and not a version that you have created?”

“Those very things that you have clanged to, desired, have destroyed you”

“They have no value, now”

“however they are part of what got you here, without your love for them, you would not have made it this far.”

“the truth to who you are, who you can become exists at the bottom of a grave”

“are you ready to dig?”

“are you ready to work?, to uncover the truth.”

“I will stand beside you, I will hold the walls from falling in on you”

“I will guide you.”

“I will remind you when you are ready to give up”

“All that shit you carry around…bury it.”

The old man with the wide brimmed hat

B

Am I Normal?

What is normal and where can I find it? If I find it will I know I have found it? I have never felt “normal” even as a child I never felt like I fit in anywhere. As I think back of the kids I spent time with I never really felt close to many people. I never felt like I truly fit in. As I became a teenager, this only worsened and I began to dislike myself. I spent time with very few people and that time was guarded and uncomfortable. I had a serious of relationships with girls who I truly believe cared about me and my well being. But I was unable to have a healthy relationship. Something I am not proud of. My best with relationship came in the form of self destruction. My inability to feel “normal” and the residual consequences of hating who I was, was the perfect storm of addiction and self harm. I not only wanted to feel normal, I wanted to feel. 

As I have aged my definition and desire for normalcy has changed and continues to change. At times, Im okay, other times, I want to hide from the world. I don't know what normal is. I understand and have taught myself and shared in normalcy with others, but rarely do I feel it. I know after years of practice, modeling how to act, feel, express myself; but I am still lost. 

I still look at myself and contemplate…Who am I? Am I ok? Am I normal?

B

The soul collector

Her dress is  made of the softest white cotton.
The white is mixed form the color of clouds and hope.
Her skin is fair and covered in the images of dreams.
The glow from behind her is golden mixed with harmony.
Her hair, a pale blonde is long, curly, holding pain in each strand.

I see her somedays, on playgrounds,
walking between houses, at the busy intersection.
I see her sitting in the clouds.
She can be my friend.

Every tiny cotton thread of her dress is made of souls, golden
She is earth, heaven, harmony.
She is peace, balance, freedom.
She is a collector of souls,
dreams, desires, memories.

B

Are you ready to let go of the storm?

The old man with wide brimmed hat, polishes the shovels and stores them in an old building.
The boy sees the building and inquires about its contents.
The man looks to the clouds, admires. His eyes reflect the passion of the sky.
He looks at the boy, he sees into his eyes the pain of a million storms. The clouds angry, pushing, shoving.
"Are you ready to dig?"
"Are you ready to let go of the storm?"
"The clouds which cause pain."
He doesn't understand, he doesn't want to dig. He likes the rain, the thunder, it makes him feel.
"I can give you a shovel"
The boy looks away from the clouds, he is not ready to dig, he is tired.
The old man places his hand on the boy's shoulder and smiles and than returns to the shed.
He can hear the thunder, he sees the rain in the distance.

B

Dreams

where did she go? The girl with the golden stitch

who is he, old worn and weathered hat

the sun is back and beats against the clouds

he has lost, silence, science 

the drip of the leaky faucet

the tremble 

the sky spins and smiles

she has moved on 

the man with the hat never smiles

the cloud in his pocket breathes

his hands are a map of the past

the shovel hangs on the wall

polished, clean, reflecting light

little orange bottles hold dreams

waiting to be released into the sky

what does the vessel keep

he looks into the mirror

the clouds dance

he keeps her close

safety, comfort

they have always loved

B

Sharing...

I want to begin sharing ideas from others that move me somehow. Today I want to share a piece of writing by one of my oldest friends who in many ways is family, my brother...




The old me wants to be angry and kick and break shit!
The new me has learned to focus on the change desired rather than the problem.
To seek out my own joy and make it my reality.
That today is the day! Not tomorrow!
That if you want love you first have to be able to give it to yourself!
If you don't want others to criticize you then don't criticize yourself or others!
If you are happy others will be happy around you and if you are unhappy people will find reason to be unhappy with you.
It affects how you feel about yourself and others and how you interact with them, eventually inhibiting your personal being and potentially turning into physical illness.
I am aware that what I have been looking for is inside me and that I cannot take anyone with me who is not willing to do the work!

When can i start taking full responsibility for me?
I am Completely responsible for my own actions and lack of action! My own happiness and well being, as well as everything and everyone I allow into my life! Namaste and bless
AB a journal into who I am
AB a journal into who I am

Scream and yell and blame others for my unhappiness. 
The new me wants compassion, acceptance and understanding.
The new me wants to take complete responsibility for his life and actions. 
To take responsibility for his responses to others and bring kindness and compassion to others.
To no longer get caught up in judgments of others and be completely content to let others be themselves wherever they are in their own lives.

The new me has learned to no longer look to others for acceptance or approval, but to seek it within.

If you have a grievance and you hold it in rather than express it continues to grow inside you, until it completely affects your whole being and mannerisms.
Lonely as my path has been I have benefitted and grown immensely from it. 
Without being in a monastery to a greater degree I have pursued a monks life, focusing on introspection and facing the truth that there were and are problems with my view of myself, my reality and true reality.
That I grew up in a dysfunctional environment and that until I choose differently, that's how I will react and respond to people, events and happenings. 

I don't lie to myself when I am wrong and I value honest criticism! 
I value and honor the truth in all aspects and I'm not afraid to fall down or be let down as I know that I can stand back up and that people are people and that we are all capable of the best and the worst, it just depends on where we are in life. 

If people have hurt us and neglected us or if they have loved, nurtured and supported us and given us the opportunity to feel loved and supported.

Today is the day to face yourself and truly ask yourself WHO'S responsibility is the outcome of my life?

What are you going to do about it?
When can I get started honoring and being true to myself and no longer place blame on others?

Lent and the Violent Femmes...For my grandma

My Grandmother, God, Catholicism, and Recovery. as originally posted 2-9-13

Today

"There are only two days in the year when nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow, so today is the right day to love, believe, do and mostly live."

The Real Slim Shady-Hip hop and recovery

I recently finished watching VH1’s documentary on “The Tanning of America: One Nation Under Hip Hop”. And there is no doubt that Hip Hop culture has infiltrated and changed popular culture, in fact popular culture is hip hop. There was an interesting segment on the rapper Eminem. There is very little way to measure the impact Eminem has had on popular and youth culture. He is a house hold name and a person in recovery. I understand and know for fact that many, many young people have immolated Eminem, they have looked up to him as a voice, an ideology, a demigod…the offspring of Hip Hop. I have never purchased an Eminem album but I have been unable to avoid the wrath and influence of his music and persona. I have paid a lot of attention to his personal struggles with addiction and his journey into recovery. And I am proud of his humbling honesty and his compelling discourse on recovery. I wonder if anyone is listening. He has been conducting interviews and disclosing the personal struggles, he has been performing with an Alcoholics Anonymous logo on his chain, and his newest album is entitled recovery.

When I reflect on how Hip Hop has changed the landscape of culture, I think about how recovery has affected an artist like Eminem and what effect that has on his millions of supporters. Will young people look to him as a reason to get clean, to get into recovery, to continue to be like Eminem? I hope. I am proud of his voice, his bravery, his honesty. I hope others are watching, listening.
B

http://www.eminem.com/
http://eminem.tumblr.com/
https://www.facebook.com/eminem
http://www.vh1.com/shows/the_tanning_of_america/series.jhtml

The boy with the box in his pocket

caffeine and nicotine
Byrd and blue ink
a pill for this, a pill for that
change
clouds talk to me
my hands tremble
who is he
a ghost
change is good
growth
the sun burns his vision
it can never be dark enough
he keeps a cloud
in a box
in his front pocket
a prisoner
captured during the war
the trumpet plays
in his memory
he meets someone new
he takes a pill
his hand trembles
the clouds remind him
change is good
Byrd plays
ink dances
he keeps the ghost
with the cloud
in a box
inscribed on the lid
change is good

B

Serotonin–norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor

I finally followed the advice I so often give to others and went to a specialist to get a different opinion of my mental health status. I have to admit that being on the other side of the desk was a bit uncomfortable. But I was taking the steps to take care of myself…

The girl with the missing stitch in her dress (unedited)

He sits back, a blanket covers his body

Like a skin made of wet lead

The weight of the clouds press down on him

He dreams he can stop the rotation of the earth 

The ghosts watch as he lets go of the chair

The demons hide in darkness

A cup of coffee illuminates the world

She is eight years old and

Wears a dress woven of dreams

She smiles and the clouds lift into the sky

Her dress is missing a stitch

He will be it

On her palm like a tattoo, breathe

He has waited for her 

She glows and the ghosts gather 

The blanket is infinite and full of sorrows

The rotation stutters

The Disease Concept

This week I have been reflecting on addiction and the disease concept. The passing of Phillip Seymour Hoffman this week has thrust addiction into the main stream media. Many people outside of the scope of addiction appear concerned and “clueless” of how someone with 23 years of sobriety could relapse and ultimately die from the disease. And whether you respect Dr. Drew he got it “right’ all over my TV. Here is an excerpt from an interview

Dr. Drew: You can't kick addiction, it's 'lifelong'

By Amanda Sloane

Some people have been saying how sad it is that Hoffman died after 'kicking' his addiction two decades ago. How do you feel about that?

Dr. Drew: The idea that addiction is something that’s “kicked” or is a “demon” -- these are crazy notions in my world. The fact is, once the switch is thrown on addiction, it’s a chronic, lifelong condition that needs to be managed every day much the way a diabetic has to take insulin every day. And if they don’t take their insulin, their blood sugars go out of control and the same is true of addiction. If they’re not practicing their treatment and recovery and participating in that in a regular basis, they will use -- it’s inevitable.

The people who are actually in the recovering community say their disease is doing push-ups while they’re sober. It’s a brain disorder in them and it’s waiting and lurking and ready to take advantage of any opportunity it has to re-emerge. It’s a motivational disturbance where the usual motivational priorities like our loved ones, our work, our very survival, start to diminish in importance relative to this one overwhelming priority, which is using. And that takes over thinking and it takes over the emotional systems. It’s interesting to see a brain that’s under the influence of a distorted motivation.

What do you think when you hear that someone who was purportedly clean for so long has started using again?

Dr. Drew: Well, we don’t know if he was sober those 20 years. But it’s not unheard of for people to sort of diminish their participation in treatment or begin to think they don’t need to do all the work and the addiction will re-emerge when that happens. Let’s say he was sober all those years, the fact that somebody after two decades of sobriety relapses makes them an extremely difficult population to treat. They -- in a way -- sort of know too much and their addiction takes full advantage of that.

How common is relapse when it comes to addiction?

Dr. Drew: Relapse is a part of recovery. The people that do poorly, though, are the ones that relapse and then relinquish their participation in recovery. If somebody slips, it’s a slip. But a full-blown relapse is when people dismiss recovery, they don’t participate in any more treatment. That’s when they die.

We normally hear of celebrities overdosing on prescription medications. Is heroin having a comeback?

Dr. Drew: It’s always been around. It’s not that it’s having a comeback. It’s that the pills are so massive now that when people can’t get pills or can’t afford pills -- that’s when they switch over to heroin. It’s cheaper, more intense and very available. The extraordinary thing about Philip Seymour Hoffman is that he died of heroin and not pills. Typically, what happens these days is that pills get people. Although we don’t know yet, we may find that he had pills in his system, also. That may be the issue here. Maybe that’s what finally took him.

What’s one important thing people should know about others who struggle with addiction?

Dr. Drew: The one thing that I always want to emphasize is to separate the person and the disease -- the career and the disease. This is a wonderful person by every account, a wonderful father and clearly a magnificent artist who left us a glorious body of work. That is not in any way diminished by him having a chronic medical problem we call addiction -- any more than if he had cancer.

What can we learn from this tragic event?

Dr. Drew: More people will die of opiate addiction in the next 30 days than died in the 9/11 tragedy. This is something to remember. Also celebrities have a tendency to get special care. They want special care from special people. I would just remind them that Conrad Murray [the former doctor who treated and was convicted in the death of pop star Michael Jackson] is a perfect example of a special treating physician and what kind of special outcomes are in store for people who seek special care.

“DISEASE”, “CHRONIC, LIFE LONG CONDITION”, “BRAIN DISORDER”

I am a subscriber to pure abstinence, something I believe is part of the maintenance of my disease. I was at the Dr.’s office yesterday and made it very clear, I am a person in recovery and I will not accept and habit forming medications. I am scared of the “what ifs”. Developing healthy boundaries with myself is of upmost importance to keep my condition in check. 

Thank you Phillip Seymour Hoffman, you died so I can examine your life and for one more day I can live.

Rest in Peace.

B