Category: General

Questions to the Sick II: When is the last time you danced?


A daily devotional I use by Mark Nepo introduced me to a series of questions Native America medicine men ask of the sick: When was the last time you sang? When was the last time you danced? When was the last time you told your story? These questions would be put to the sick and dying by the tribe’s medicine man. In my recovery journey, I’m learning it’s just as important to ask these questions of the living. (http://www.marknepo.com/books_theexquisite.php)

Question II popped up again this week as I cycle through the book a second time, so I’ve been more aware of this lesson. And, I can actually think of two recent contrasting experiences that taught me an even deeper lesson.

Last month, I was at an outdoor concert of Jennie DeVoe, a regional musician whose work has been a discovered gift since I started this journey. There in the open venue, I jumped up, stood by our table and let myself go — dancing and swaying to one of my favorite songs from my muse. I let the joyful release of the music flow through me, unphased by what others might think of me.

Last night, I was at another outdoor venue, listening to a live broadcast of Garrison Keillor’s Prairie Home Companion. His storytelling and weekly radio broadcast have been a part of my story since I was in my twenties. But, in my final years of active addiction, my Higher Power used several broadcasts in particular to speak to my broken spirit. I knew then I’d be ok even if I didn’t know when and how. So, one of my bucket list items was to see him broadcast live. With that context, again, it’s no surprise I felt the same joyful release well up inside me. I SO wanted to jump up and dance — but I held back. It was still an amazing performance, with laughter and tears and healing. But, I wasn’t able to live as authentically as I wanted.

As I reflected today on the way I chose to react so differently during those two cathartic situations, I asked myself — why? I realized the level of safety created by the company I was with was a key factor.

I’m human, and know that much of my life has been driven by fear and shame. In one situation, I knew I would be understood and my joy celebrated. In the other, I feared ridicule and shame.

What a difference the company we choose can make. And today, I do have choices. It doesn’t make one set of people “good” and one “bad.” But, it does mean I can make choices to be around that which celebrates living authentically and openly. And being able to make those choices doesn’t make me better than. It simply is what I choose to do.

Of course, I hope that in the future, I’m able to let go regardless…unphased by the reaction of others, driven instead by the deep connectedness I’m having at that moment with the music, my feelings, my true self…and the universe.

But, this is a journey – I strive for progress, not perfection.

Today, I’m simply grateful for the awareness and growth.

Transparency and my ego – a conflict of interest?


Lately, I’ve been more aware of my character defect of self-sufficiency. One of the way this manifests itself is I try to get through my tough times alone. I don’t reach out for help or support during my struggles. I’m much more inclined to share with you AFTER I’ve “made it through” and tell you what I’ve learned. But, to share where I’m at, to be transparent about what’s really going on at the time, to take off the mask and let you see my pain when I’m in the middle of it, is not one of natural reactions.

This, I’ve known for awhile. I’ve become more aware of it recently as I’ve been through some dark times. So, I’ve also been trying to share more – in the midst of my challenges.

But, I recently realized how clear of a role my ego plays in this inability to be honest – with myself and with others. In some of my regular 12-step meetings, I’ve found myself being hesitant to share what I’m going through. But this week, I ventured out to a new meeting, just to try something different. As I sat waiting for the meeting to start, I realized I didn’t know anyone in the room. As I reflected on what I might want to share about my week, as part of my increased transparency, I realized something was missing from my gut.  No fear.  No shame.  No concern of what people might think.  No “reputation” to protect.

No ego.  No conflict of interest.

I understood this in theory on one level – but it really struck me that evening as I sat there, how much my ego plays into my ability to be honest, transparent.  I worry about what people will think of me – how how I might be judged. And the sad irony is, I’m more willing to open up with total strangers, than I am with those who know me, who are close to me.  Very sad.

Part of this is human nature.  Part of this is my addictive nature.  Part of this comes from years of keeping others at a distance.  Part of this comes from years of anonymous online chatting.  I understand all of that.

Yet I know I’m robbing myself of so much. I know I can’t do this on my own. I know I need others.  I also know people don’t think about me as much as I think they do.

So hopefully, the next time I hesitate to share in one of my regular meetings, or with friends and family outside of the rooms of recovery — hopefully, I’ll move past my ego, drop the mask, and share what’s really going on at the time, even without the answer or solution.  Who knows what I might gain…  And just for today, I know that I’m losing when I don’t.

Being stuck with choices


[I started this draft on December 21, 2011.  I never finished it.  I’m positing it now because it captures where I was at the time.]

The worst place for this addict to be stuck is up in my head.  Having been sick for the past six days hasn’t helped me either.  I’ve been stuck home alone in varying degrees of pain and discomfort, restless and discontent.  Thus far, the holidays had been joyful and upbeat.  But, my inner peace has been slowly unraveling, the weight of my circumstances bearing down on my heart.  I’ve allowed myself to drift away from the spiritual connections that have kept me grounded despite the daily grind.  I’ve reverted to isolation, which only feeds my loneliness and self-pity.  And stuck in self-pity is a dangerous place for this addict to find himself.  I shouldn’t be surprised – I didn’t end up here by accident, or by some outside force that dragged me here against my will.  I ended up here by a series of choices — either actions I took, or failed to take, in response to circumstances in my life.

And, with the same relative ease that allowed me to slip into this dark place, I am able to make different choices which will bring me back to a place of acceptance, peace and joy.  I can recenter myself by letting go, and letting my Higher Power resume control.

The choice is mine.