STOP!!!!

Well, the turkeys gone, the visiting over, and most of us are about to embark on that whirlwind between Thanksgiving and Christmas that leaves little time for thinking much less reflection. We will try and put happy faces on for our friends, coworkers, and family -- yet in the back of our minds will be the next three things on our schedule that can't possibly get done if we take time out to enjoy the activity in front of us. We will be so busy planning, purchasing, and presenting over the next month that our Thanksgiving gratitude will just kind of melt away. What began as an opportunity to gratefully reflect on the things around us during the past year has been relinquished to "the calm before the storm" of the holiday season.

I can see it around me already. In South Florida an estimated 40,000 people crowded a major shopping mall on black Friday -- by 1:00 am in the morning! Makes me wonder how long lived the Thanksgiving part of the Thanksgiving holiday was for these folks. By early Friday afternoon we were reading about a temporary employee who had been stampeded to death as he opened up a Walmart store. By late Friay that became a byline to two men fatally shooting each other in a Toys'R'Us while kids shopped around them. Are you kidding me? Haven't we learned any lessons about greed and profiteering in the past few months?

I'm calling for a truce. Let's put our schedules in check for the next couple of weeks. Instead of the panic that accompanies being ready for the next activity, why don't we all commit to living in the moment. Do you know what I mean -- enjoying the people, places, and things we have right in front of us. Let's take the time for the smiles and the hugs that we will give in abundance during the next few weeks to be genuine. Who knows, in the process we might actually get back to teaching those behind us what these holidays are really all about.

one man's junk...

I threw some old cassette tapes away today. It was kind of sad for me - partly because I HATE getting rid of things and partly because it made me reflect on the inevitability of change. There is something comforting in putting on an old shirt or pair of shoes that has long since seen its time -- it just feels better. And that stack of stuff in the top dresser drawer - it's true I will never use it again or even be able to remember what I used it for in the first place, but I think I feel better just knowing it's there. The people around me will probably not get it, instead they see worn out clothes or clutter as stuff I should have gotten rid of a long time ago. But for me as outrageous as it seems these things seem more me than today's clothes or junk.

The same thing goes for old thinking, habits, and behaviors. We become comfortable with who we are, and change though inevitable is sad to us. Sometimes it's not even that we want to keep the old, worn-out "us" junk, it's just that if we keep it close to us we feel better. The people around us will probably not get it. It seems so clear to them that if we could just get rid of this or change that we would be so much better off. They might even be right, but it doesn't mean that when we give these things up we immediately feel better. In fact, at that moment of change we might feel much worse.

I don't remember that last thing I threw away that gave me trasher's remorse, but I know that I did it. It probably wasn't even that long go, I felt bad and moved on. I am certain I am better off for having gotten rid of whatever it was, but at that moment standing above the trash can I am also sure I didn't feel like I was going to better off. I'm sure I felt sad.

You Are What You Do Because of Who You Are

Had a chance to speak in front of inTerSecTionS this week. I absolutely love those guys and they are so attentive. So I hit them with this statement - You are what you do because of who you are.

So here it is for Zack (and anyone else) in easy terms. You are (what you are right now) what you do (what you are doing right now) beacuse of who you are (what you were meant to be).

never the same old same old

On Sunday mornings I take my children out for donuts and chocolate milk before church. This has become a bit of tradition in the Smith household, and has the added benefits of motivating everyone (at least the kids and me) out the door so mom is not late for worship practice. We travel the same route through the store and you would think that all of these Sunday mornings would blend into one another, but for some reason they don't. Each Sunday morning looks exactly the same, but motivated by kids who never see the sameness in any of our time together I have become more in tune with the nuances of these trips that make them individually memorable.

For example, this morning I learned something about my youngest. Her brother asked (in a sickeningly sweet voice) if she was going to share part of her donut with him. She shook her head yes (mouth full of donut of course) and broke her remaining donut in half. She looked over the pieces she had broken and I could see the wheels turning. Looking from piece to piece she calculated which piece was the largest (they were close in size, but one was just a little larger). She turned over the smaller piece to her brother and continued chomping. I could see that she was proud of herself - both for sharing and keeping the biggest piece for herself. I was also proud of her - both for sharing and keeping the biggest piece for herself. I learned that she is already learining to both be true to and stand up for herself.

I am so thankful for a wife and kids that really do appreciate the smallest of moments. They motivate me to look beyind the sameness of everyday life and find that one memory that I want to carry with me all the time.

No Rules...Just Right

One of the most common frustrations that I have encountered from recovering addicts is the notion that the rules around them "keep changing". This makes sense in treatment environments where numerous unwritten rules exist that don't get posted or even talked about until somebody unwittingly violates one of them. It even makes sense for the white-knucklers doing it with AA/NA that place a great deal of their short-term recovery in the hands of a sponsor. However, for reasons that follow I actually think this is quite a profound realization that recovering individuals stumble on.

Imagine a life that is lived under the Outback franchise philosophy - "No Rules... Just Right". What does that life look like? I would propose that it looks like self-will run riot. It doesn't really matter what people or institutions around you think. Instead, the most important evaluator of the rightness or wrongness of actions is me. As a result the efforts that I make at convincing those around me that what I am doing is acceptable would be entirely for my benefit. I would learn to view myself as both judge and jury to my actions and rarely find fault or need of changing.

Then I embark on a new path. One that begins with an admission that what I've been doing up to this point has not worked -- it's broken. Once I make even the smallest step outside of the comfort of what I have always done I am confronted with some of life's harsh realities, most notably, the facts that a) Life is not always fair and b) Flexibility is key to healthy, productive living. What looks like constantly changing rules is actually you just catching up to where the healthiest among people are actually living. Enjoy the chaos that comes with change - it's the one constant you can always count on!

I wonder if THEY know that

Somewhere I missed it. Yesterday, I stood watching a cheerleading competition in which my middle child was competing. I came prepared to see some basic tumbles and maybe even a cartwheel or two. What I got was -- well, a lot more than that. Sometime between discussing with my wife how "good it would be" for our child to get involved in cheerleading and writing the monthly checks I missed all the hard work she (and the rest of her team) were putting in. And then - bam! right in front of me is this unbelievable performance. It never ocurred to me that she was serious about this.

It makes me wonder how many other obvious things about my kids I miss around me each day. Of course I entertain her "cute" comments about this or that with her cheerleading, but I thought most of it was nonsense chat. Of course, when my son talks about karate or even what he enjoys about what he's studying I listen, I just don't listen maybe as closely as I should. It seems to me I might be guilty of under-indulging my kids efforts and dreams. I wonder if THEY know that.

really...

Had a chance to run a group today, and I was on the path of one of those topics. You know - the ones that get eyebrows raised and skeptical looks when you start. The group that you can see people saying - oh REALLY in their head when you begin. It wasn't planned that way it just happened.

I started with a statement that was something like - "I don't think that it's all that important that you admit you have a problem in Step 1; rather I think it is most important that you can accurately identify how unmanageable your life has become." It's funny how unsettled people become when you introduce a new idea to them or at least challenge the same old way they have been looking at the problem. Okay - so I have been known to throw a zinger or two just to get people out of their comfort zone, but I wasn't doing that today. I just think that the most important part of Step 1 people lose focus on.

Does it really matter that an addict can admit their problem? I mean REALLY matter? There's a ton of people around them that love them (and some that don't) that can see they have a problem. Often their own admission that there is a problem puts them last in the circle of people that see it. Isn't it more important to really focus on the one day, the one conversation, the one behavior that exemplifies how out of control their life will become if they choose to use again? Isn't it?

You see - my theory is that Step 1 is enough for an addict to maintain their sobriety. It might not give them the well-balanced health that fully following the program will, but if they can see clearly the starting point of how far they will go if they use again I can think of nothing better to motivate them to change. Even then the disease will continue a cunning, baffling, and powerful course to derail those changes.

Admitting a problem - that's a bonus; avoiding the behavior by avoiding the drug - absolutely paramount in succeeding.

Fire & Ash

Several years ago I compiled a list of short words and phrases that captured the "me". When I put this together I wasn't concerned about whether everyone around me agreed - I wasn't even worried about how these words made me look to other people. I did it as part of an introspective journey of myself, on myself, for myself. I did it to take a snapshot of who I was at that moment in time to memorialize the "me" of the moment.

I remember taking hours and formatting the words into a small poster using a very crude (by today's standards) publishing program. (Those were the days when programs inevitably turned themselves off at critical moments and it seemed like it took hours to reboot the computer.) I worked diligently -- producing a printed collage of thoughts, emotions, attributes, and even story characters that resounded with me during that time in my life. I meticulously crafted the document into the finest piece of art that I had ever produced (I'm not very artistic) -- and then as I recall, I ceremonially burned it.

There wasn't a lot of pomp and circumstance, just me hovering over a small container watching my creation blaze up and just as quickly morph into unrecognizable ash. I reflect on that moment quite often lately. The moment between fire and ash. I wish I could have grabbed the paper out of the bin and written those two words. I stood there struck by the fact that of all the words I had written I had missed the most important two - fire and ash.

That is so me - standing on the brink of something I think so represents and defines me and almost missing the most important parts. I've learned a couple of things since that time in my life. I want that moment between the fire and ash of every activity in my life to be a celebration of how bright and hot the fire burned not how dull and gray the ash will look when its over.

WAKE Up

This morning early (about 4:00 am) I woke up to my youngest trying to manuever her way onto my bed. She was prepared - blanket and pillow in hand (I guess in case I didn't have one), but she was not "awake". She stood at the end of a bed on which during daylight she can perform any number of gymnastic feats and said these words: "Dad, I don't know how to get up." I laughed and reached down and swooped her up, accessories and all, and within seconds she was snuggled in and sleeply sounding.

You ever been there. That place that you're not sure how you got there, but think you need to be. That place that whether by habit or accident you showed up with all the right equipment, but just couldn't seem to close the deal by doing something that you've done a hundred time before. Have you ever been at that place where short of some big arms reaching out and swooping you up you would never be able to rest, safely snuggled in. I have.

Sometimes it's okay to put in on autopilot. Maybe you're tired, maybe you just can't think through the next step. It's okay - but it's better if you go looking for some big arms to swoop you up. WAKE Up - connect with someone who is going to help; it's a bonus if they're laughing at you.

The "WE"

"We admitted that we are powerless over alcohol and that our lives had become unmanageable." - Step 1, Alcoholics Anonymous

It seems so contrary that the best solution to maintaining abstinence from drugs, including alcohol, lies within a group that has individually lived out their worst nightmares. What drives the phenomenon of "support recovery" and how important is "the WE"?

Consider this - the most unlikely defenders of freedom are a group of kids that show up at boot camp from every corner of the nation, from every socio-economic background, and from every experience (or lack there of) that you can think of. We give them 8 weeks to become a '"WE", and then entrust our nation's most prized asset, freedom, to them. As I see it they've done a great job! They figured out how to give up something of themselves for the greater good of "the WE".

You see "the WE" in support recovery systems works this same way. An individual that knows that they want what a group of recovering addicts has understands the importance of giving up themselves for "the WE". In fact, the battle looks eerily similar to those who defend our freedom. Your life may depend on it!

SWEATING Honesty

One of the schticks that I use frequently when teaching is what I call a candid discussion on what rigorous honesty is. If you have heard any of that and your mind is not already reeling then shame on you. Rigorous honesty is .... (all together now) honesty to the point of SWEAT!

Have you noticed in your own life the physiological correlates of honesty. I mean really - how many other things cause your stomach to churn, you palms to sweat, and your mind to race in so many directions at one time than owning up to who and what we are and what we have done. Probably the greatest cause for celebration is that you are not alone. Honesty may be the best policy, but the path of honesty is often not the easiest one. We spend more time supporting our positions of why its okay to have said this or done that than just acknowledging one important fact - the truth is the truth even if I don't like it.

"Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program...They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty." (Alcoholics Anonymous,"How It Works"). The fundamental challenge for well rounded healthy people inside recovery (and everywhere else) is to work on honesty to the point that it makes us SWEAT. You know what I'm saying - taking the hard road; the one that nauseates you a little and causes you so much discomfort that you perspire. The one that makes you stop a story or a sentence right in the middle and tell the person next to you to "disregard that - it wasn't true".

Addicts have an uncanny ability to justify and rationalize. Be careful and remember -at the end of every sentence, day, year, and lifetime there is truth. Define yourself by sweating it out of you even when it looks hard at the moment.