There was a person who told me the only thing that stops me in life is me. I was told that my complications are only illusions that are exaggerated by my fears and my connection to old concerns and biases.
“But it’s okay,” they said.
“You can come out now.”
Moving Forward
I suppose somewhere on the road to acceptance, we learn that rejection is part of the game. The same goes for the road to success. I say this because somewhere along the road to success, we understand that failure is part of the plan. Otherwise, how else do we learn? The rest of the plan is resilience, endurance and our ability to continue even when we’ve lost or fallen down. Along the way to wherever it is our destination says; we rise and we fall. We live and we learn. We love and we lose but above all, we find out that hardships are also part of the trip.
Continue readingUpdating Our Standards
I remember a saying that dates back from my childhood about Carnegie Hall. The saying is more like a question.
“How do you get to Carnegie hall?”
The answer is, “Practice.”
Practice makes perfect, right?
I have been part of a system in my life where I have been practicing almost everything. I practice new ways to eat or sleep. I have practiced new ways to exercise and new ways to change or improve. I have practiced my sales pitch and new methods at work. I have been at the hardest places in life, which is at the wall that we need to push through in order to get to the other side.
Nice Guys and The Race They’re In
They call this a race. Maybe some people call this a rat race. Maybe others call this the human race but of course, there are people around who say, “Nice guys finish last,” which I suppose maybe this might be true. Or maybe this is because nice guys aren’t trying to win. But who knows?
Maybe nobody knows the answer, which is why we look to act as if we know. We try to act as if we have the answer but me, I know I don’t have the answers. I don’t know too much about a race. As a matter of fact, if this is a race; I’m not even sure what we are racing towards. Last I checked; most races run in specific directions. There is a start and a finish. And to me, I’m not sure that I’m in a rush to finish or face the finality of “The End.”
Continue readingA Page from Letters From a Son: A Memory Note to Mom
By the end of the binge, there was nothing left. There was nothing left of me or my money. My pockets were as empty as my stomach, which had been making sounds for quite some time. I was strung out and pale. My jaw was clenched and my nerves were frayed like the tattered end of a rope. This of course was the chemical reaction to the substances in my bloodstream, yet, there was nothing left of me but the absence of the substance. Everything was gone. I was surrounded by tiny empty vials and little tinfoil packages. I was hidden away from the world and still hearing the paranoid phantoms that whispered to me.
“Try this,” they told me.
“This’ll help you.”
When the Rain Comes
I am awaiting a storm and the sky looks angry as ever. The heavens are layered with a cloak of heavy gray clouds; the air is so humid that the heat is mad and only to grow madder. Meanwhile, all we can do is wait for the rain to come. But I don’t mind. I don’t mid storms the way other people do. I don’t even mind the temporary interruptions of service and I laugh about people’s last minute dash to the grocery store. They run crazy; as if the world is about to end but goddamnit; at least there’ll be toilet paper in the bathroom and butter and milk in the fridge. Otherwise, all there is to do is remain hopeful the storm will pass without too much of a hassle. But I’m not hassled.
Continue readingTake a Trip with Me
If asked then I’d have to be honest about myself. And, It’s true. I find myself getting frustrated. I find myself angry over nonsense. I’ve been known to curse at the television before. I’ve certainly been known to curse while I’m stuck in traffic or while some random car drives in front of me, to cut me off, only to go slower—and I swear this must be personal. I curse and complain, and on some occasions, I’ve been known to have entire arguments with people; meanwhile, I’m in a room, all by myself.
I’ve yelled at the sky a few times. As a matter of fact, I yelled at my leaf-blower and my lawnmower and my neighbor who was nowhere near me for most of the afternoon. If I’m being honest, I am as real as they come. I see myself as a person who is like anyone else.
Ways to Change
After you lose weight, there’s always someone who comes up to ask, “How’d you do it?” and to be honest, there’s always someone out there with an opinion about this. There’s always someone out there with a better way, which for them, maybe theirs was the only way. And I don’t doubt that it was. I don’t doubt the different pathways to recovery.
However, I have noticed that in the midst of any transformational changes, there is always someone out there with an idea or an opinion. There is always someone with some kind of advice—and that’s fine, but wait . . .
why must there only be one way?
A Note From The Breeding Grounds
I would like to preface this by explaining that my ideas are nothing more than a series of honest thoughts. I am not putting anyone down, including myself, nor am I coming from a place or resentment or hostility. Instead, I am simply pointing out an observation. This is something I see. And I’m open to the ideas of different perceptions. However, in my search to find personal understanding, I found that honest assessments and observations are helpful if for no other reason than to teach me how not to be. But nevertheless, here I go . . .
Continue readingIt’s Okay to Tell on Yourself
It’s okay to tell on yourself. It’s okay to make the choice to switch or change directions. In fact, at any given moment, you can change your mind. You can improve. You can choose to refrain or choose to advance. At any point; the choice is yours. By the way, I say this for a reason.
There are places I would like to be, like somewhere off the coast of Italy or maybe Fiji. I think I’d like Fiji or wait, maybe there’s a place I’d like to be off the Gulf of Mexico. That would be nice too. There are places from my past that I would like to see again, such as a little town right outside of El Paso. The air was dry and the sky was blue. The desert was like something out of a picture book. Time moved slow. My Mother was there, my Father was there and my brother too.
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The Written Addiction 