Insight on Self-Preservation vs. Community


About a year ago, I stopped going to 12 Step Meetings, and began exploring a recovery program that works for me.  I wrote about it briefly then.  Looking back, the year had its challenges, but I believe I’m finding my voice through those experiences, and for that I’m grateful.

This past weekend, I was at a camping trip and ran into someone who I knew from the rooms.  We’ll call her Linda for sake of this blog.  Linda and I talked a little about my experiences – I shared how when I would struggle or relapse, which often meant isolating and not attending meetings, I rarely heard from folks — particularly from my homegroup.  I had the impression, from what was expressed, that “they would be there for me.”  Yet, when I would go missing, there was silence – no phone calls, or texts or check-ins…with a few exceptions.  And those two folks, I continue to see today and count as a friends.  The rest are largely AWOL.  As I wrote last October, I was needing more.  I heard the promise of “community” – but what I found was far from it…at least for me.

As I told Linda about my experience, she had a single response:  “Self Preservation.”

And in that word, she summed up the value of my time in twelve step groups — it was about learning to stay alive, literally.  It helped my with some strong fundamentals and gave me new principles — much like my time in a Christian cult at college.  But, she also summed up the limitations of those groups (for me) — the very thing that had saved me reached a point where it was no longer serving my needs.  In fact, it was hindering my growth.  I needed (and still need…) to move from self-preservation to community – in all of its messy, ugly, real, but authentic beauty.  And for that transition, the rooms were no longer serving my needs.

Today, with some work and self-growth, I have a tight network of friends who do demonstrate their concern and support through phone calls, texts, or visits…even when they don’t know what to do or say, they reach out and ask how I’m doing.  They tell me I’m missed, and look for ways to reconnect.  It’s sometimes messy – sometimes awkward – but always real.  For me, that’s community.  For me, that’s the deeper connection and commitment for which I’ve been yearning.

When I was reading Peter Block’s book “Community: The Structure of Belonging” this summer, I found myself repeatedly shouting “Yes, that’s it…”  His insights and challenges are so thick with truth that I could get through about a dozen pages, before having to set it down and ponder that I had just read.  (Here’s a YouTube clip of Peter talking about his book…)  Having put the book down earlier this summer, I’ll be picking it up again – and using it, along with other resources and people in my network, to continue to grow and build deeper connections with others, and refine the role I want to play in creating intentional community.  

And for those fundamental principles, I find my friend Mark McAleavy’s reframing of the 12 Steps into an Asset-Based framework to be useful as well.

As I wrote a year ago, it’s important for me to remember that this doesn’t mean other people are wrong and I’m right. It just means that I found what has worked for me, just for today.

As someone once told me, people are in our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  I’m realizing now that the people in AA and NA were there for me for a reason, perhaps a season…but not a lifetime.

AIDS or Alzheimer’s…remembrance with transparency


Celebrating a life as it should be…

This week, we lost a soul due to complications due to AIDS, as he was living with the HIV virus. He was in my men’s group where I receive care coordination for my own life care as someone living with the HIV virus. I only knew him from the group, but his passing touched me for many reasons. I’d like to share a little of his story to keep his memory alive.

We will call him Scott. The fact that I have to pick a false name “to protect his family” goes to show that even today, with all the progress we’ve made in the treatment of this nasty virus, there is still the need to protect people’s dignity because of the social stigma that is still out there in our society. His family chose to have contributions go to the Alzheimer’s Association, as opposed to where he received life care for this real disease. Sad, for me at least, because I really don’t think the Alzheimer’s Association did anything for Scott. Each week, he found support and camaraderie from a small circle of men who met in the basement of a non-profit organization, dedicated to those infected with HIV/AIDS.

So if you’re reading this and you’re willing, please make a contribution to your local HIV/AIDS organization in Scott’s memory.

And let me be clear – I don’t fault his family for making this choice. If we lived in a society where caring for someone with Alzheimer’s was equally respected as caring for someone with the HIV virus and/or complications from AIDS, then they could be transparent. But, we don’t…yet. So, they felt this was necessary.  I respect their decision.  I hate they had to make it…but I understand.

I’ll remember Scott for his love of music. For his love of food. For his sense of humor.

I’ll remember Scott because he was confined to a wheelchair, living in an assisted living home where we was often treated with disgust. Food would be taken from his fridge. Human excrement would be left in his bed sheets or on the floor, because the staff wasn’t willing to clean up after him. Granted, Scott was a cantankerous man who was probably difficult to live with. He sometimes made us uncomfortable in group – but he was human, alive and living with this painful, ugly disease. He felt trapped in the nursing home – a victim, perhaps by choice, but perhaps not. At least he had our support group, where he could vent and process and find support. How many people are out there who don’t have that?

I’m reminded of a song by Barbara McAfee, entitled “When I Die.” It’s given me much comfort in my living, and given me hope that I can die with grace and dignity, surrounded by friends and family.  The opening lines are:

“When I die, I know there’ll be singing
By my friends all gathered around.
As their sweet voices fade behind me,
I will join in the one great sound.
And I’ll stand on a sunset hillside
Just like I did in that dream
Join the multitude there that is singing
The song inside everything.

When I die I’ll fall into a hammock,
Woven of each song I’ve ever sung.
I have sent them a forward to catch me
On the day my life is done.”

When I die, I want this song played at my memorial service.

And, if I happen to die of complications due to AIDS, I want that listed in my obituary.  And I want donations made to the Damien Center, or IAIC, or Broadway UMC…or similar organizations, should I live somewhere other than Indianapolis.

I want people to know one can die with dignity from this disease, or from addiction, or from natural causes…or from a motorcycle accident.  I don’t know how I’ll go, but all of those are real possibilities, as I live life “in the grey” between the “!” and the “?”

The more we talk about it and tell our stories, the less shame and stigma there will be…

So Scott, I celebrate your life – your struggle – your smile.  May you find rest on a hammock that was prepared just for you…

Storytelling and Sleeping At Last…


Those that know me (1*), know I’m far from a “current events” guru. I usually hear trends and stories after the fact…  I just don’t watch much regular TV or listen to much radio to stay connected with “the real world.”  And most of it is depressing and repetitive (apart from PBS and some other shows – skipping the frigging commercials that are all about MARKETING and CONSUMERISM…

(*1) no, really know me…you’re few and far who get in to the second or third heart…THOSE are the ones I’m talking about!



Who remembers CBS Sunday Morning – the ORIGINAL (well for my story…the original!), with Charles Kuralt. Classic. Can’t replace or improve upon a great storyteller.  Still a great show (mainstream’s version of PBS news!), but it’s not Charles…  Reminds me…when Garrison leaves PHC (as if that were really possible…PHC without Garrison?  Never), we will lose another monumental talent on the public airways.  Just saying…

And the other living story teller is Mike Mather in my life (ok, there are some others…) – who I consider to be a close friend / BFF far more than I consider him “my pastor.” (*2)  He may be a “white, middle class, heterosexual Christian male” (got all those MAJORITY labels?!) but he is one of the most pigmented, poor, gay, agnostic, “spiritual realist” gender benders you will ever meet.  And he is in the (UMC – United Methodist Church) – but DO NOT HOLD THAT AGAINST HIM.  Please.

(*2) a label that brings a lot of baggage… at least for me, and probably most LGBT folks, or people who “live on the edges” of society.

So, back to me and my story.

Watched Grey’s Anatomy’s “summary” and closing season episodes from last year (*3) and discovered this nugget of creative splendor – “Sleeping At Last.”  Sure, it’s because they Cover for songs from MY generation…and having lived for a month with a 19 year old who epitomizes all that is good and bad about this “Generation Y W U T V” – it was nice to hear something I recognize!  (White rap all sounds the same…sorry!)

(*3) See how far behind I am!?  Not only do I not watch it regularly…but I get my updates from the networks’ prep for season starters…so I am WAY behind, ok



So, check them out.   They were “all that” last year when they appeared on G.A (*4).  And yet…their voices were there long before the “cultural blessing” they got from mainstream TV.

(*4) Like so many of us…we are here, living quiet lives, unnoticed by the mass media that envelopes us. Some of us are making a difference in another person’s life, just maybe…not for the external recognition or validation but simply because that’s who we are. Good neighbors. Good friends. But, that doesn’t sell advertising, “papers” or whatever “moves” today’s marketing engine. So we continue quietly, like a tree falling in the forest…


So anyway.  Here they are:


YouTube Playlist Coming Soon
(I’ll add it to my photography website when I do!)
My Favorite Songs
(*5) And I just learned that Bonnie Tyler is from WALES.  I lived 20 miles from Wales…  “This was the first record by a Welsh artist to top the US chart.  This entered the UK charts at #1, making Tyler the first female singer to do so.”