Day 11 - Dissonance

Good Morning, Brothers:

I am back in the office after three days off. It is strange to be at the office during this time of year. There is a strain between treating the office in a "business as usual" mode and recognizing the fact that this time of year is different; the Christmas season is special.

The same dissonance faces our struggling addicts. We must work the steps in the same manner each day. Yet some times are clearly different from others. We want to recognize the uniqueness of this time of year, but we also need to keep tending to our addict on a daily basis.

Let us thank God that Christmas is special. Let us celebrate this season and nurture our addicts as well. We have three more days of sanctification.

Celebrate your recovery!!!

Day 7 - The Coming Dawn

Merry Christmas, Blueshirts!

Now we celebrate the entrance of light into a world shadowed in darkness.

By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.'

-Luke 1:78-79.

It is no accident that Christmas is celebrated in December. While the gospels do not give us the actual birth date of Jesus, they do tell us what his arrival means: Dawn is breaking upon us.

December 21st is the first day of winter, the darkest day of the year. But from this point forward, each day sees a little more light than the day before. The dawn is coming. We will emerge from the shadow of darkness.

And as we emerge from this shadow, what awaits us? If we follow Christ, we are heading towards peace. The dawn gives light to we who have been sitting in darkness, and that light shall serve to guide us on the way to peace.

As addicts we have been sitting in darkness. We have lived a life of fear and secrecy, struggling to calm ourselves amidst a harsh and barren world. But as we begin to work the steps and turn our struggles over to Christ, the dawn breaks and we start moving towards peace.

The walk towards peace is a journey. We are guided on the way, but we are not there. We celebrate the coming of the Light in mid-winter, but the fullness of the sun will not prevail until summer. It is a long journey, but our way is lit for us.

Be not afraid.

The light has come.

Follow the light.

Do Not Be Afraid

A note to my fellow Blushirts:

Brothers:

Today is Day 4 of our end-of-year sanctification; Day 4 of a journey where we allow God to touch us directly in our walk to recovery. And our response is likely on of fear.

Fear seems to be natural when the Holy One touches us. When the angel appeared to Mary, to Joseph, and to the Father of John the Baptist, the first words were always, "Do not be afraid."

When God reaches into our world to help us, it is a portent of change. As addicts we are always afraid of change. Though we despise our addictive behaviors, we have also come to rely on them for comfort, coping, and escape.

When God comes to bring healing, the first step is to remove these behaviors. The first step is to take away our security.

Do not be afraid. It is God himself who comes to heal us. Though we do not know any better way than addictive behavior for coping, we can be sure that the God who gave us life also knows how to restore life. Though we do not know what change will bring, have faith in the one who is bringing change.

God came into the world as a baby to heal us all and restore us from sin. God comes into the lives of addicts to heal and restore.

Do not be afraid.

Courage to Change

After a period of improving sobriety, I have experienced a major slip this week. I have acted out - at my place of work - two days in a row. This is not good. What's more, I can't really point to any triggers for these recent incidents. I haven't been angry or lonely or stressed. I have simply acted out because I wanted to.

That's a bad place for me to be.

I have to admit that I am both frightened and discouraged by this turn of events. Will I ever get better? Am I making progress? God, are you there?

As I often do, I turn again now to the serenity prayer:





In the past I have tended to focus on the serenity portion of the prayer. I have taken comfort and courage from acknowledging and accepting the things I cannot change.

But today I am looking elsewhere. Today I am focusing on what I CAN change. I am looking for the courage to do what must be done. This is where I am letting myself and others down, by not acknowledging what things I actually do have power over.

So I am making myself a list of some of the things that I do have control over and can do to help maintain sobriety.

These are some things that I have power over:

+ I do NOT need to look for pictures of celebrities that are new to me; I am not a slave to my curiosity;

+ I CAN pray and meditate two to three times each day, including weekends;

+ I CAN take my meds daily, as prescribed;

+ I CAN get regular exercise;

+ I CAN be honest with my life partner and tell her when I have slipped;

+ I CAN make two to three phone calls daily to my accountability partners;

+ I CAN regularly journal about my feelings and other life circumstances that may be challenging me;

+ I CAN avoid changing the filter preferences on my computer so as to avoid exposure to content that will trigger my addictive behavior;

+ I CAN avoid channel surfing and be more intentional about my television habits;

+ I CAN make a daily surrender of myself to God;

+ I CAN take some time to create a personal vision statement and provide positive goals for who I want to be.


This is not an exhaustive list, but it is a good start. I need to stop making excuses and continue to focus on the areas in my life where I can take responsibility for my behaviors.

It's true, there are many things in my life that I cannot control;
I surrender these and ask for serenity.

But there are things that I can control;
I ask for courage to do these things and take responsibility for the person I am and the person I want to be.

Bill Mallonee Concert

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to see Bill Mallonee live last night in Minneapolis. What a tremendous concert!!

It was a coffee-house type setting (actually a local church) and Bill played acoustic guitar and was sometimes accompanied on piano by Mariah Rose.

To see this incredible song writer live is a real treat! I was blown away! And he gave the background for many of the songs he sang.

For those familiar with Bill Mallonee (former front man of the Vigilantes of Love), here is the play-list from last night's set:

1. Solar System
2. Goes Without Saying
3. November Ghost
4. High & Lonesome
5. Nothing Like a Train
6. Bethlehem
7. That's What I Meant
8. Friendly Fire
9. String of Pearls
10. Bank
11. Resplendent
12. Skin
13. Tobacco Sunburst
14. Every Father Knows

And for those who aren't familiar with his music, head out to parting-shot.com to learn more!

Spatial Disorientation

As an addict I am constantly being reminded to trust and use the tools of recovery:

"Work the steps"

"Make calls"

"Attend meetings regularly"

"Third-Step Prayer"

"Daily inventory"


Sometimes these reminders are frustrating. Why do I have to keep working the steps? Why should I make phone calls when everything is ok? Why does my life have to be reduced to a set of practices that constantly reminds me of what I am trying to escape from?

Why?

Two words: SPATIAL DISORIENTATION.

"Spatial disorientation" is what an aircraft pilot experiences when he flies into weather conditions that prevent him from being able see the horizon or the ground. Points of reference that guide his senses disappear. His perceptions become unreliable. He no longer is sure which way is up or down. It can be deadly.

The only way a pilot can overcome spatial disorientation is to be trained to read and trust his cockpit instruments to tell him what is real. That's why flight instructors force student pilots to learn to fly planes by the instruments alone.

As an addict I have to recognize that my spirit suffers from spatial disorientation. My twisted perceptions keep me from recognizing what is really happening in my world. I do not know where the horizon lies and cannot recognize temptation when it crosses my field of vision.

As an addict, I have spent a life of trusting only myself to navigate life's hazards. I have trusted myself and I have failed miserably.

To attain freedom, I must learn to trust in Christ. But I am stubborn. I am resistant to turn to anyone but myself. I may agree with Christ, but only after I have relied on my own thining to reach that agreement. If this keeps up, I will never escape spatial disorientation.

So recovery brings a new set of tools: the 12 steps, meetings, sponsors, accountability partners, phone calls, daily prayer. If I cannot immediately learn to trust Christ, then I must learn to at least turn my trust to something other than myself. The tools of recovery are my flight instruments. I must learn to trust them even when I cannot see the horizon or the world around me. And to learn to trust them, I must practice using them every day - both good days and bad days.

So, yes, in some ways my life has been reduced to daily application of a set of spiritual tools. And, yes, this can be frustrating. But as an addict, I must remember that I am subject to spatial disorientation. I need to use and trust these tools or I will crash and burn!

Playin' in the Snow

The snow began to fall on Saturday morning. With a predicted 8-10" on the way, I had a number of options:

i) Go to the store and stock up on food
ii) Settle in and stay off the roads
(iii) Start shoevling
(iv) Panic!

Of course, I chose option (v): Hop in the car with the Chatty Chatty Princess (the "CCP") and drive to Grandma's house!

With this being the first real snow of the season, the CCP was filled with the need to be outside. And all of the responsible items on the list, like shopping, and shoveling, lost their appeal next to the CCP's unbridled excitement.

So we got our snow clothes on, hopped in the car, and headed over the river and through the woods to Grandma's.

Then we played in the snow!!!!

We went sledding!
We made snow angels!
We ate snow!

And when we were finished playing, we went inside for freshly baked cookies and hot cocoa.

Forget being a grown-up ...
it's snowing out side and I'm going to Grandma's house!!!

A Note to My Fellow Blueshirts

Good morning, Brothers:

Although I had a clean weekend, I have to admit that sobriety has been more of a struggle lately. Gone is the serenity that accompanied the forty day stretch I had last month. Instead I am filled with doubts, anxiety, and loss of confidence. I am worried about whether I can be strong.

And that, of course, is part of the problem. My focus has been shifted to my own efforts whereas during my stretch of sobriety the focus was on trusting God. The enemy has slipped in, told me what a good job I was doing, got me to focus on my own efforts, and then sprung the trap.

I am reminded of what R said some time back: the enemy will not be pleased with our success and will find new ways to attack us.

So as we struggle, remember that our struggles are also a sign that something worthwhile is happening here. Our sincere desire to surrender ourselves to Christ makes us targets for the work of the enemy. Let's be honest as we encounter temptation and difficulty. These temptations ARE too much for us ... but they are not too much for Christ. Every struggle is another chance to acknowledge that our healing will come from Christ or not at all.

Take courage, Brothers, for Christ is here!

Catch a Snowflake!

We had our first snow flurries of the season here in Minneapolis. They arrived this morning when I was taking the Chatty Chatty Princess to daycare.

When you are spending time with a four-year old, snow-flurries are not a nuisance ... they are an event!

So thanks to the Chatty Chatty Princess, I spent five minutes this morning trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue.

Thanks, snowflakes!

Thanks, Chatty Chatty Princess!

Cowboys Don't Work the Phones

There is a good reason why you never see cowboys featured in telemarketing commercial or as receptionists or administrative assistants:
Cowboys don't work the phones.

And there's a good reason cowboys don't work the phones:
Cowboys don't use head sets.

And there's a good reason cowboys don't wear headsets:
Their hats get in the way.


You may wonder why a turtle from Minnesota would be ruminating on such matters. I have a good answer:
Today is Halloween.

You see, D-Monk decided to celebrate Halloween at the office today by dressing as a cowboy. He wore his Stetson hat which he procured last spring on a trip to Austin, Texas. Instant Halloween costume!

All went well for the turtle cowboy until, while frantically trying to finish a project, his phone rang. D-Monk stopped what he was doing and reached for his head set so he could practice hands-free calling.

One problem:
D-Monk's headset didn't fit over his hat.

Panic!

D-Monk set down the head set, removed his hat, tried to set the hat down on his desk, knocked over his Mountain Dew, and missed the phone call!

COWBOYS DON'T WORK THE PHONES!

Travel Travails

Yay

Wait

Scream

Squish

Crunch

Hurry

Shuffle

Moo

Boil

Whew

Wednesday was a travel day for D-Monk. I was headed down to Phoenix for a boondoggle. The goal was to get from Minneapolis to Phoenix to work a life insurance trade show.

YAY!

Things started well. D-Monk's dad volunteered to drive him to the airport. We left at 6:45am and hit very little traffic. A smooth commute to the airport.

Yay ...

WAIT

D-Monk was flying United airlines. United has a new seating system where they try to charge you extra for seats in "economy plus." Because of this, D-Monk was unable to reserve seats prior to getting to the airport. So he got to the gate early to get a seat assignment. At that point he was given a choice: pay $30 for an upgrade to "economy plus," or come back in half an hour to get the same seat for free. So D-Monk waited.

Yay - Wait ...

SCREAM!

D-Monk boarded the plane and took a seat near the rear where there were three screaming toddlers.

Yay - Wait - Scream ...

SQUISH!

To make matters worse, a very large person came and sat in the seat next to D-Monk (who at 6' 1" already lacks for space on a plane).

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish ...

CRUNCH!

Thirty minutes into the flight to Phoenix, the passenger in front of D-Monk decided to recline her seat ... right into D-Monk's knees! Ouch!

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Crunch ...

HURRY!

The flight to Phoenix required a connection in Denver with not much time to make the connecting flight. The connecting flight was 33 gates away causing D-Monk to rush.

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Crunch - Hurry ...

SHUFFLE

And, of course, D-Monk didn't have a seat assignment yet. So he rushed through the airport to make his connection and get a seat. D-Monk arrived at the gate just in time to learn that the gate had been changed. Six gates farther to walk.

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Hurry - Shuffle ...

MOO!

After spending twenty minutes at the new gate they announced that there was a plane bound for Tampa that was blocking the new gate. The plane was having mechanical difficulties and so the gate was unavailable. Our plane was ready to go, but there was no gate for the plane to come to. After another twenty minutes they announced that they had found a gate - 21 gates back the other direction. All of the passengers started towards the other end of the airport like a herd of cattle.

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Hurry - Shuffle - Moo ...

BOIL

When our herd of passengers arrived at the new gate we encountered a second herd of passengers. Another announcement came over the intercom: "We have two cannibal planes heading towards this gate - one bound for Phoenix and another bound for San Francisco. We don't know which plane will get to the gate first, but we will load one and the other will have to wait." The two herds of passengers were now competitors ready for blood ...

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Hurry - Shuffle - Moo - Boil ...

WHEW!

Five minutes later it was announced that the San Francisco flight would not be coming to the gate because "the plane was broken." Our flight to Phoenix was ready to go!

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Hurry - Shuffle - Moo - Boil - Whew!

And so, in the end, D-Monk made it to Phoenix after an eventful trip that was only one hour late.

Yay - Wait - Scream - Squish - Hurry - Shuffle - Moo - Boil - Whew!

D-Monk's Got New Shoes!

Ahh, the excitement of the simple things in life. Yesterday I bought a new pair of shoes. A pair of wine-colored penny loafers. They are exactly like my old shoes, except newer!

One thing that has always flummoxed me about a new pair of dress shoes is how slippery they seem. When you're walking on carpeting it's like wearing a pair of ice skates. And it can take forever for them to lose that slipperiness.

But then I learned from my Beloved that there is a remedy for this: Go out to the sidewalk and scuff the bottoms of your new shoes. It seems all women know this and they have all practiced scuffing since they were little girls with new black patent leather shoes. While boys were out doing everything in their power to mess up every article of dress clothing in every possible way, the girls used their constitutional right of assembly to form organized groups on street corners and practice scuffing only the bottoms of their shoes.

And, of course, none of the girls, not even my Mom, ever bothered telling me about this useful practice. Instead, once every two years, they sit at their desks and watch out of the corner of their eyes as I regale them with the latest version of Disney on Ice as I try to reach my office in a new pair of shoes.



So here you go, girls!
This triple-axel with a double-twist head contusion is for you!

D-Monk's got a new pair of shoes!

Grateful Recovering Marathoner

Weeks and weeks of training culminated with running the 2007 Twin Cities Marathon this past Sunday. Although it now seems nothing but a great success, this year's marathon (D-Monk's second) was anything but pretty.

It is amazing how much of a marathon is psychological. The 26.2 miles presents a huge mental barrier. Even after running last year's marathon, I found myself doubting very much whether I could do it again.

And completing a marathon brings incredible self-confidence. The mental toughness seems to spill over into other areas of life. If I can endure the simple act of continuing to place one fott in front of the other even when I am exhausted and there are still eight miles to go, I can do anything my boss asks of me at work!

This year's pre-race carb load was at Bucca's restaurant. I went with my wife, my parents, my sisters, and an uncle who is visiting from Texas. I ate and ate and ate: mannicotti, chicken canaloni, lasagna, chocolate cake. And I felt absolutely no guilt!

We talked about my preparation. I said that I felt confident (but really I was very very nervous). I said that I was in better shape and had trained more for this year's race (that was true).

We talked about Sven Sundgaard, one of the local weathermen, who was supposed to be running. He is a young guy (26) who looks even younger. All the girls say he is "dreamy." My wife told me to look for him. I was sure I'd have no trouble finding him amongst the other 10,000 entrants, especially given the fact that he is over 10 years younger than me and likely to be running my pace!

I had been worried about the weather all week prior to the race. Last year's run was under idyllic sunny skies with refreshing fall breezes. But this year's run looked like it would be in the rain.

As Sunday approached, the forecast for rain receded and was replaced with heat. Humid, muggy, awful heat. And this is what we got. It was a terrible day (meteorologically speaking) for a marathon. The overnight low was 72 degrees. It was 72 degrees at the start of the race with 80% humidity! I was sweating before I took my first step.

But the race went well for me. I doubled and tripled the amount of liquids I took in during the course of the race. I stopped at drink stations to make sure I could get 3 gatorades. And that turned out to be very wise.

While this race featured 1,100 fewer finishers than last year's marathon, I not only finished, but I cut 15 minutes off my time. I worked very hard on the last 10 miles not to slow down and not to give in. And I finished!

And guess what else? I did see the dreamy weather guy! I passed Sven Sundgaard at mile 24. He had been much much faster than me for the first half of the race, but the humidity got to him. But he was very nice and chatted with me for a bit. I told him my wife was watching for him and that I had to get to the finish line before him or she wouldn't bother waiting for me. He laughed.

All in all it was a great day for me. I worked hard, pushed myself, finished, experienced great deals of pain.

And now I am a grateful recovering marathoner.

Call for Help!

Today I received a call from a brother in recovery. Suddenly the "quiet times" are over and I am back in crisis, albeit someone else's crisis.

The friend who called me is one of the "Blueshirts," the core of men in recovery that I meet with every other week and talk to almost daily. We have pledged to be a part of each other's recovery and today's phone call affirmed that pledge.

My Blueshirt Brother acted out this past weekend. The incident was not a small slip in his mind, but a major stumble. He is caught up in anguish, guilt, and some self-loathing. Such is life for an addict trapped in the cycle of addiction.

His first reason for calling was to disclose the episode in detail. Bring it to light so that its power for enticing repetition could be diminished. Additionally, he wanted advice on several issues.

The incident took place when he was invited out by a friend. He and the friend were alone and acted out together. He was aware that this was a possibility, but went anyway.

So he asked several things.

1. She he call this friend and place a boundary on their relationship (no doing things together alone)?

2. Should he disclose this to his wife?

3. Any other advice?

Advice giving is discouraged in twelve-step recovery groups. But in this case he asked me directly for advice and I felt great humility and a sense of duty to him. So I responded.

I told him that I thought calling his friend was a good idea. Addicts don't need open invitations to break sobriety. We're sick and cannot handle some of the everyday situations that normal people can handle.

I also told him I felt he would benefit from some sort of disclosure to his wife. This would help emphasize the cost of addiction and make more clear that our lives are unmanageable.

Then I shared with him my recent experiences. I have been graced with nearly a full month of sobriety. This is due in great part to two things. First, I made a full and open disclosure to my wife of my failings in recovery. Not a general "yes I've acted out" sort of an admission. But an honest admission of the frequency and seriousness of my acting out. That was a very painful experience, but it took away one of the greatest tools my addict relies on: secrecy and shame.

Second, I have recently been able to better hand my will over to Christ. The hurt in my life has opened my eyes to how much better Christ's will is than my own. My heart has been softened and I have been able to acknowledge that I don't really need some of the pleasures I was trying to hold on to. This second thing has been a true gift. I feel so much more freedom without having to worry about these issues. I have been blessed!

Thank you, Lord, for the ongoing gift of sobriety!

Quiet Times

Blogging seems easier when there's a crisis. When you have screwed up or life is screwing you, the emotions lead naturally to the keyboard. Eventually readers probably get the impression that your life is always screwed-up and that you're the kind of person best encountered on blogs and not in person.

So today's blog entry will be different. It will be the writing of an average, middle-class, white guy who has a family and loves his wife.




The best description of my life the past several days is "taxi service." I have taken on the embodiment of a soccer mom as I shuttle children and step-children to and from their various activities.

The longest shuttle service involved Snibbets, my 8-yr old daughter from my first marriage. This past weekend was a "Circus Weekend" -- a weekend where all six of the children from our combined marriages were staying at our house. Snibbets had dance practice on Saturday in Saint Cloud, about a 1-hour drive from my home in Minneapolis. Plus there was a 3-hour wait while she practiced. This was actually a positive for me since I love to read.

It has also been a quiet week at work. The biggest change here is the newly imposed "Clean Desk" policy. As a typical absent-minded ADD type, this rule irks me to no end. I take offense at a naked desk!




The rest of life right now is about anticipation. The Twin Cities Marathon is this Sunday and yours truly, Lord of the Turtles, will be running. If successful, this will be my second marathon.

The Calm

It was a quiet weekend for the addict and his family. It was not a "circus" weekend and there was not much planned on the calendar. Instead of being packed with family responsibilities and time commitments, the weekend was dominated by an eerie calm.

Why is this calm "eerie"? Simply because the addict walks on shaky ground at home and is not sure of his current "standing" in the household.

A little over two weeks ago, the addict "re-disclosed" to his Beloved. He again acknowledged that he is an addict and gave her the full truth on his recovery -- or lack thereof. While the addict has been in recovery for over three years, he still acts out regularly. This was the kernel of re-disclosure -- the addict is still acting out.

After disclosure, the addict made certain promises to his Beloved. Promises to be more open and honest -- to not hide the truth about progress in recovery. But also promises about other aspects of life: follow-through on certain financial issues, commitment to seek resources, and more involvement in general household issues.

These fresh commitments relate not only to recovery from addiction, but to general challenges in the addict's life. They push the addict to be more proactive with recovery and also with addressing issues stemming from depression and A.D.D.

So far the recovery related commitments have gone well. I have experienced bottom-line sobriety as well as serenity since re-disclosure took place. The non-recovery issues, however, have been more of a challenge. I have taken some steps towards following through on these copmmitments, but not as many as I could or should. This is frustrating both to me and to my Beloved.

So the weekend was quiet and calm. The weekend was a celebration of new progress in recovering from addiction. But the weekend also seemed to stand as a quiet condemnation of failure to meet other commitments.

Life is so complex. If one area is going strong, something else will be lacking. At least that is the way it has always felt to me. Can one ever celebrate accomplishments when there is always something else that has been left undone?

The Calm yields no answer.

The Ectothermic Turtle

This has been a good week for the addict. I feel as if I have received the gift of sobriety. I feel at peace with myself and my heart feels softened. I am a grateful recovering addict.

Two weeks ago I spoiled my wedding anniversary by selfishly acting out in my addiction. When I came home, I disclosed all. I disclosed not only that I had acted out that day, but that I had been acting out regularly, that I was not as far down the road to recovery as my wife hoped.

My wife challenged me. She asked where the accountability was in my program. I couldn't give her a good answer.

I took these concerns to my recovery group. We all agreed that we had not pushed each other enough on accountability. We decided to make a change. We agreed to be more proactive in the recovery of other members of the group. We acknowledged that each of our own conditions of sobriety had an impact on the recovery of others. There is a lot at stake.

Since then I have experienced sobriety as a gift. It does not feel as if I have acquired or earned it. Sobriety has been freely granted to me. How can this be?





LOOK AT THE TURTLE

I have called myself a turtle since I am so wont to withdraw at the slightest hint of controversy or confrontation. When the going gets tough, I hide in my shell. So I have been looking at the positive and negatives of turtles as a metaphor for recovery.

One thing I have learned about turtles is that they are ectothermic. That is, turtles are cold-blooded; they rely on their environment to regulate body temperature. Heat for their body must come from an outside source.

My hopes for healing from addiction must, in a sense, also be ectothermic. I have admitted that I am powerless over my addictive behavior and that my life is unmanageable when I try to control it. In order to heal, I must look outside of myself.

The turtle looks first to its immediate environment, and ultimately to the sun for sources of body heat. I must look first to my immediate environment and ultimately to the Son -- my higher power -- for sources of healing and recovery.

When I disclosed to my wife two weeks ago, my environment changed. I took down walls that kept me emotionally isolated from her. I turned to my brothers in recovery for more strength and accountability. And I prayed, prayed, prayed. I surrendered to my Higher Power for help.

And, at least for now, the gift of sobriety is here. It comes not from within, but from without. I am the addict and I am the turtle. The good things in life come ectothermically!

A Meaningful Conversation

Last night I attended a Twins game with my father. This was my birthday present to him -- a night out at the teflon-covered Metrodome to watch a sub-500 baseball team. Obviously the Twins were just the background to the true gift: a father-son outing.

Despite the Twins slumping record and often lackluster play, the game featured a number of memorable moments:

+ Twins rookie pitcher Kevin Slowey struck out 7 batters.

+ The Twins scored their first run on a perfectly executed double-steal by Torii Hunter and Michael Cuddyer followed by a wild throw by the Rangers' rookie catcher.

+ Joe Mauer, the uber-catcher and local-boy, hit a home run.

+ Torii Hunter stole a base while the pitcher stood on the mound because nobody bothered to cover second.

+ The Twins came-from-behind to win the game with two runs in the bottom of the ninth.

But none of these memorable items compared to my Dad's question and our ensuing conversation.

Some time around the third inning my Dad asked me: "How's life?"

As an addict, such a question is always pregnant with meaning. What is he really asking? Is he wondering how work is? How's the family? Is he just making conversation? Or does he want to know about my recovery and whether I'm making any progress. I decided that he meant the latter and, for some inexplicable reason, I also decided to answer honestly.

"Up and down," I said. "I'm not really making the progress I had hoped too. Things seem the same as they did about a year ago. I act out once or twice a week. But I think I am finally ready for a change."

All of these words were true and I uttered them sincerely. I am ready for a change. My heart has been humbled and I am ready to surrender control. I am ready to give up the pleasures and imperfect control that comes with acting out. I have, in fact, been sober for 12 days now and it feels good.

Dad and I talked about other things, too. Family, financial obligations, time commitments, daily prayer. It was a good, deep, and meaningful conversation.

A meaningful conversation with my Dad.

Priceless!

Empty Words?

As an addict, I don't feel like I am making choices. I feel trapped. Yet at the same time, if recovery is possible, there must be a point at which this behavior does become a choice. I will keep trying to reach this point. I would never choose anything over you. But my behavior says something else. The best I can offer is to keep trying. I can't make promises, because I keep breaking them. They are meaningless coming from me.


These words were penned by the Addict on September 7th, 2007. Let's hope they are not empty words.

24 Hours

What a difference a day makes.

Yesterday:

The addict was working towards recovery, but still acting out once to twice a week.

The addict was getting ready to celebrate his fifth wedding anniversary.

The addict was looking forward to a night out and an upcoming weekend.


Today:

The addict is sad, fearful, and lonely.

The addict is till on the road to recovery, but that's not enough.

The addict is worried about his marriage and in remorse over all of the hurt he has caused his Beloved.


So What Happened?

The addict acted out yesterday. Acted out before returning home to celebrate the anniversary of his marriage. The addict was late in returning home. And before he got home, the addict knew that he could no longer hide the truth. Wedding anniversaries cannot be celebrated under a cloud of secrets.

When the addict returned home he disclosed that he had acted out. He also disclosed his regular cycle of acting out once to twice a week. The addict's Beloved knew he had acted out, but had not known the frequency of his behavior.

No anniversary celebration. Instead, a long, painful heart-to-heart conversation in which the Beloved mostly spoke and the addict mostly listened. Things need to change. This can't go on. It is time for the addict to start making better choices. Every incident of acting out demonstrates that the addict is choosing his addiction over his Beloved.


Response #1 - Is it a Choice?

The addict wants to cry out that he is not choosing addiction over his Beloved. He is not choosing to act out.

At the same time the addict still holds out hope of recovery. Recovery must include a cessation to acting out. Doesn't this involve choice?

So the addict feels trapped in a painful conundrum: Either he IS choosing to act out and is responsible for all of the hurt he has caused his Beloved, or the addict has NO CHOICE and also must acknowledge that any hope of recovery is an illusion. Despair.

IT'S NOT THAT EASY!


Response #2 - Empty Promises

The addict makes the same promises he has before. I will change. I will work my program. I will communicate better. I will contribute more to the household.

But what will make these promises different now? How can one make the same promises he has broken repeatedly in the past? At this point in the game, words mean nothing.


Response #3 - What a Blessing!

It is true that the addict is experiencing pain and sadness today. But it is also true that the addict has broken out of his shell. For the past few years the addict has hid almost everything from those around him. He has withdrawn emotionally and tried to manage recovery on his own.

All the while the addict has been telling himself that he will disclose everything once he has started to recover. As soon as I have a month of sobriety, then I will let her know how things are really going. And slowly the addict built up walls around himself so thick that he couldn't even imagine how he might bring them back down.

Today the addict is in pain, but he is also out of the shadows.

Turtle or Not Turtle - #1

The addict spent a lot of time reading over the Labor Day Weekend. Despite the incredible weather and the extra day off, the addict selfishly hoarded as much time as possible to read. You might even say that the addict "turtled."

The addict is currently re-reading a series of books he has read several times before: The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever. This is a fantasy epic that has always had a strong pull on the addict's heart.



The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant are an epic tale in the genre of Lord of the Rings. The difference is that the main charcter -- the hero or protagonist -- is a person from our world and is very unlikeable. He suffers from leprosy and all of the isolation and abuse that go with it. He is hard for the Reader to support because he insists on not believing in the very beautiful world that is the substsance of the novel. He hates the world and he hates himself. But in the end, he finds redemption. Any addict would crawl on his knees for such redemption. This character of self-hatred and redemption provides a crucible for the reader to purge his own doubts and fears.

But even as the addict spent time withdrawn to read over the weekend, he was aware of family and the needs of others. He knew, for example, that his youngest -- the Chatty Chatty Princess -- was looking to him for some play time and entertainment.

"Daddy, can you play outside?"
"Daddy, let's race!"
"How about a treasure hunt, Daddy?"


So what to do?

Turtle?

Or not turtle?


Turtles have protective shells that can provide safety from enemies and other threats. Addicts have protective shells that shield them from threats which may or may not exist.




Turtles do not spend time with their young. They lay eggs and leave. Parenthood is not in the nature of a turtle.

Addicts have a choice: Turtle or not turtle.

While the addict spent most of the weekend as a reclusive, in the end he stuck his head out of his shell and realized that being a parent could be fun and rewarding. So this weekend the addict swam, played tag, went on a treasure hunt, looked for clues in a mystery, and played hide-and-seek.




And you know what?

The addict was just fine without his shell!

Thank You, Dancing Man!

With summer coming to an end, the traffic is building and it is becoming more apparent how significant the loss of the I-35W bridge will be for commuting. My commute time has doubled this week as more people return from vacations. Next week will likely be worse.

But in the midst of stop-and-go traffic this morning there was dancing man.

As I sat in my car, cursing under my breath and waiting for cars to move, I looked over in the next lane and there he was. A younger man with glasses, driving a small, gray sedan.

And the man was jamming!
He was rocking out!
Swinging to the tunes!
Getting into his groove!
Oblivious to the jammed up world around him!

And then something strange happened:

I smiled!

Thank you, Dancing Man!

Why the Turtle?

It sometimes comes as a shock to realize that other people have actually read your page. Such a shock was visited upon the addict this week when he changed his avatar to a turtle.

The overwhelming response from D-Monk's underwhelmed readers:

"Why the turtle?"




The turtle has become a symbol of recovery for the addict. This is due to one of the addict's most over-used and unhealthy coping tools -- isolation.

Keep in mind that this addict, like other addicts, labors under a false view of the world. The cycle of addiction is fed by the following beliefs:

1. I am a bad and worthless person.
2. Nobody who knows the truth about me can love me.
3. Nobody will care for me.
4. I must care for myself.

Upon reaching step 4, the addict usually takes care of his needs (stress, guilt, anxiety) by acting out through his addiction. The consequences of acting out are that the addict feels shame.

Hence, the cycle begins again:

1. I am a bad and worthless person ....

Acting out is one response to this terrible set of false beliefs. Another response (and one that can be combined with acting out) is to isolate. The addict uses isolation all the time.




The addict's tendancy to isolation has been described by some who care for him as "turtling" (i.e., when faced with adversity, sadness, emotional contact, etc., the addict will withdraw).
Rather than argue, this addict goes into his shell.
Rather than solve a problem, this addict retreats from the world.

In short,
when the going gets tough,
the addict "turtles."

So given that the addict has a natural tendancy to act like a turtle, he has taken an increased interest in the turtle as a symbol in recovery. If the addict emulates a turtle in unhealthy ways, what are some healthy ways of being turtle-like?




Already people are sharing positive turtle traits with the addict!

Turtles are deliberate. Slow and steady. The turtle is a symbol of earth. Turtles are rooted to the earth and connected to earth power.

The turtle is a unique creature. Turtles live on water and on land. Turtles are slow, but revered.

And so the addict (at least for now) is choosing to embrace the turtle as a recovery totem. I will do my best to learn the positive ways of the turtle and to forgo the act of isolation which has dominated my turtle past.



BE THE TURTLE!

Fear of Fear of Economic Insecurity

"If we are painstaking about this phase of our development ... [f]ear of people and economic insecurity will leave us."

--Big Book of AA


"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change ..."

--Serenity Prayer


"The complete life is the life of a child. When I am consciously conscious, there is something wrong. It is the sick man who knows what health is."

--Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (August 20)


Fear of economic insecurity has visited the Addict once again. So long as the addict lives, economic insecurity will probably be sitting on his doorstep. Such is the life of the addict.

Economic insecurity visited this week as the addict and his beloved closed on a refinancing of their home. The need for refinancing was created by the last time the home was refinanced. The addict and his beloved went with an adjustable rate mortgage and now the rates are hiking.

But that's not the worst, this loan had an optional payment feature which opened up the possibility (and in this case the reality) of negative amortization. The addict had never heard the term "negative amortization" until he and his beloved realized that they were in trouble. To make a long story short, negative amortization means that the loan balance on our home was actually increasing! Trouble!

So refinance we did. The addict and his beloved have a new fixed rate mortgage. But there was a cost ... our monthly payments have increased. And the addict just had to replace his car less than a month ago generating another new monthly payment. As the addict and his beloved signed documents for the closing, it was hard to see how we were going to be able to make ends meet.


Fear of economic insecurity ...

The Beloved cried that morning. The stress of it all bursting through the cracks.

How is the addict supposed to respond?


Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change ...

There is much here that the addict cannot change. Some of it the addict honestly feels he can accept:

+ tight financial circumstances;
+ cutting costs;
+ embarrassment of having entered into a transaction he didn't fully understand.

There is one thing, however, that in all honesty the addict doesn't know how to accept: the stress, sadness, and anxiety suffered by his Beloved.

It is one thing to accept the consequences of troubled times for oneself, it wholly another thing to watch how those troubles impact someone you love.

So what does the addict fear? Maybe the addict doesn't fear economic insecurity after all. Maybe the addict fears the pain life throws at his loved ones. Maybe the addict really fears his inability to protect loved ones from pain.

Aren't men supposed to be protectors? Maybe a recovering addict can accept trouble, pain, hardship, and poverty, but still be immensely affected by how such circumstances impact his family.

The addict cannot fulfill the role of protector. Perhaps this means that the addict is a bad and worthless individual. Perhaps the addict won't be loved by anyone who figures out that he is a bad protector and thus a bad and worthelss individual. Perhaps the addict is unlovable -- at least to anyone who learns the truth about the addict.

Maybe the addict better hide this secret. Maybe the addict should withdraw and "turtle." Maybe the addict needs to care for himself ...

And so the vicious circle begins. Maybe it is not fear of economic insecurity, but the addict's finances have certainly got him into a state of fear.

Recovering from a Super-Circus Weekend

Returning to work this week was a chance for recovery. The Addict needed some respite after surviving a "Super-Circus Weekend."

The Addict lives in a blended family. This is a second marriage for both the Addict and his Beloved. Our new family includes three children from the Beloved's first marriage (Y-Girl, X-Boy, and Z-Girl), two children from the Addict's first marriage (Ball-Boy and Snibbet-Girl), and one child from the new marriage (The Chatty Chatty Princess).

Four of the children reside with us on a daily basis (Y, X, Z, and the CCP). Ball and Snibbets join us every other weekend. We affectionately refer to these weekends as "Circus Weekends."

This past weekend was a Circus Weekend on steroids -- a Super-Circus Weekend.

It all started with a Father-Daughter event for the Addict and Snibbet-Girl. This was held in the city where Snibbet-Girl lives, about a 90-minute drive from the Addict's house. The event was wonderfully fun! But it was also just the beginning.

X-Boy's baseball team had a tournament for the weekend. His team played one game Friday night, four games on Saturday, and a game on Sunday morning. Thus the Beloved was gone for most of the weekend to attend X-Boy's games.

Meanwhile, Y-Girl was having a combined sweet-16 birthday party with a friend. This meant that roughly sixteen wild teenagers were over at the Addict's house on Friday evening, with seven teenage girls spending the night. Chaos in the hallways!

To avoid any unwanted trouble, X-Boy stayed at his Dad's house Friday night and Ball-Boy, Snibbet-Girl, the Chatty Chatty Princess, and the Addict fled to the confines of the Addict's parents' home. Despite this seemingly wise plan, the Addict got no sleep that night.

Y-Girl was not the only one celebrating a birthday over the weekend. The Addict's sister, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was also celebrating a birthday. This involved a party with friends on Saturday evening and a family party on Sunday.

Whew!

By the time the whole Super-Circus Weekend was over, the Addict was exhausted!

Time to go to work and get some rest!

Happiness, Too!

Life does go on in Minneapolis and, beyond the sadness, there is happiness, too.

Today the Chatty Chatty Princess had a bicycle parade at pre-school. She chose to decorate her bike with the most fashionable pinks she could find. And she threw on a pink flamingo for good measure.

Go, Chatty Chatty Princess, Go!

Sadness in Minneapolis

I-35W Bridge Collapse (StarTribune.com)

I am sure that everybody has already heard about the collapse of the I-35W bridge in downtown Minneapolis.
There are no words for this kind of a tragedy.
No words ... just sadness.

The mood is somber today. People aren't sure how to respond. Are we allowed to complain about commute times after such an event? My commute time has doubled and the longer commute will probably last two years (maybe longer). But this pales next to the tragedy of lost loved ones.

No words ... just sadness.



I-35W Bridge Before Collapse (WCCO.com)



I-35W Bridge After Collapse (WCCO.com)

No words ... just sadness.

Love is the Fulfillment of the Law

The only thing you should owe to anyone is love for one another. For to love the other person is to fulfill the law. All these: You shall not commit adultery, you shall not kill, you shall not steal, you shall not covet, and all the other commandments are summed up in this single phrase: You must love your neighbor as yourself. Love can cause no harm to your neighbor; and so love is the fulfillment of the Law.

---Romans 13:8-10

Economic Insecurity Revisited ... Again

"If we are painstaking about this phase of our development ... [f]ear of people and economic insecurity will leave us." (pp. 83-84)

The addict examined this promise last week and wondered if it could be true. Can a person really escape the fear of economic insecurity?

The addict asked because he was feeling a great deal of economic insecurity in his life. Bills have been mounting up and fixed expenses (including debt maintenance) have started to outstrip income.

But in the past week the addict and his spouse have taken action. Together they have come up with a proactive plan to reduce debt and restructure finances. This plan was created in tandem, with no arguments, threats, or blame.

The addict and his family will sell their current house and use some of the equity in the house to reduce debt. The consequence will be living in a smaller home with less stuff. But what a trade -- roominess, stuff, debt, and anxiety for coziness, simplicity, and peace of mind. And a good set of lessons for the children, too.

So maybe there is something to losing fear of economic insecurity. Perhaps economic insecurity can be experienced and acknowledged without having to be feared.

************************************************************************

That was one year ago and now, one year later, the addict is again feeling that pit in his stomach that comes from a bad case of economic insecurity. Does anything really change?

So what has happened since?

Well the addict and his Beloved did put their house on the market, but the plan to simplify life by cashing in on equity crashed with the housing market. But that was ok. We like our house and it has been a great home for our family and we have made better decisions about finances.

Unfortunately, life is filled with all of those things that we cannot control (oh, serenity prayer, I need your help now). And one of those uncontrollables has been the addict's car.


After putting $1,200 into major repairs involving the timing belt just 3 weeks ago, the addict's car again had a major beakdown this weekend. The addict continued to drive the car after the engine had shown signs of overheating and the car rewarded him by breaking down on the side of the freeway on Sunday afternoon. Stranded with two of his children, the addict was grateful that no harm had come to any of us and that help came in the form of a stranger.

But now reality has set in. The cost of repairing the car will be more than the car is worth and the addict's finances are stretched extra tight right now. We are still paying for the recent family vacation and absorbing the cost of the repairs made to this car just a few weeks ago.

Now the addict has a giant pit in his stomach from financial insecurity. What should he do? Buy another car? Find a way to manage without the car? Repair the old car?

Fear of economic security is supposed to leave the addict, but it would be dishonest to claim that it hasn't.

Debating with the Chatty Chatty Princess

Apparently I have a slow learning curve. You would think that as a professionally trained lawyer that I would be better equipped for arguments with my four-year old, but she clearly has the upper-hand. Her imagination and shifting conceptions of reality have left me flummoxed.

I wave the white flag for the Chatty Chatty Princess.

The last several days have offered two glittering examples of the vastly superior reasoning she wields over me.

1. For the past several weeks the Chatty Chatty Princess has been playing with two imaginary friends -- Diego & Alicia. She is always making sure that we are taking these two friends seriously. When we go anywhere in the car she asks, "Where are Diego and Alicia going to sit?" When we go to the pool she says, "Make sure you help Diego & Alicia." When it's time for a goodnight story, Diego & Alicia have to
listen too.

On Saturday morning, as we were preparing for our return trip to Minnesota, the Chatty Chatty Princess wasn't eating much of her breakfast. The Beloved asked her if she wanted to bring her donuts in the car, but the Chatty Chatty Princess said no. So I, being the intelligent and creative parent that I am, thought I would appeal to the needs of her friends, Diego & Alicia.

I said, "Should we bring the donuts in the car in case Diego and Alicia get hungry?"

"Daddy ... Donuts are real food and Diego & Alicia are pretend. You can't give them real food."


Score:

Chatty Chatty Princess - 1
D-Monk - 0




2. While on the Denver trip, the Chatty Chatty Princess lost her favorite pink elephant. She had asked Santa for a baby pink elephant for Christmas and he brought it to her because she was such a good mommy. Since Christmas, baby pink elephant has traveled everywhere with the Chatty Chatty Princess. But in Denver the baby pink elephant disappeared.

D-Monk got the Chatty Chatty Princess another stuffed elephant (gray, not pink) for the remainder of the trip and she was fine. But when we got home the Chatty Chatty Princess ran up to her bedroom and looked in her bed for the baby pink elephant. D-Monk reminded her that baby pink elephant got lost in Denver. She said, "I know, but I thought maybe she walked home."

D-Monk decided to go back to the same store where "Santa" had procured the original pink elephant. He brought home a new baby pink elephant and put it on her bed.

When the Chatty Chatty Princess discovered the elephant she came running down the stairs. "Look, Mommy & Daddy! Santa brought me a new baby pink elephant!"

Again, I made the mistake of thinking I could use her imagination as a tool for my argument. I told her that it was not a new elephant, but that Santa had found the old elephant and given her a bath. She remarked at this point that the old elephant had a white stomach. Neither the Beloved nor I had noticed this, but she was right. So, once again using my amazing powers of persuasion, I told her
that baby elephant was growing older and her stomach had turned pink.

"Daddy ... Stuffed animals don't grow!"

Score:

Chatty Chatty Princess - 2
D-Monk - 0

"Joy"?

"For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame,
and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."

---Hebrews 12:2


What does "joy" mean in this context?
Christians often talk about Christ's suffering, but rarely about his happiness or his joy.
I think there is a key to the Christian faith in understanding the role of joy in God's salvation history.

Joy is an intricate part of the Christian experience,
not something that we discard or ignore.

A Good Trip "Up North"

You have already heard the addict's lament about the "lost marathon." But, alas, the addict's higher power provides grace beyond measure. So despite the addict's descent into insanity last week, there is much more to be grateful for.

The addict and his Beloved did not cancel their trip to the North Shore. Although the addict would not be able to participate in the marathon, there was no reason we could not enjoy a weekend alone. And the North Shore is a perfect place for such a weekend.

Special preparations were needed. The North Shore's greatest treasures are outdoors and off the beaten path. Getting to these spots can be a special challenge for an addict with a limp. So our first stop was at Gander Mountain where the addict purchased a hiking pole which he could also use as a cane.

The addict settled on the Swiss Flex Pole -- a steal at $12.99.



Although the addict and his Beloved usually like to stay farther north, they were booked at a hotel in Two Harbors, just 22 miles past Duluth. We had a room over-looking the Great Lake and were quite happy to settle in for a quiet weekend.




Friday night's dinner was at the "world famous" Betty's Pies, a wonderful local diner with good food and great pies. The addict had a slice of banana cream while the Beloved tried the cherry berry crunch.

Saturday morning was wonderous! The sun was out and temps were in the mid-70's. PERFECT!!!




We headed up to Tettegouche State Park and spent some time on the rock beach by the Tettegouche Arch.

Then we drove further up the North Shore to Grand Marais where we had lunch at our favorite local spot, The Bluewater Cafe.




On the way back to Two Harbors we stopped to hike up to Caribou Falls. Another glorious sight in the woods on the North Shore.

We returned to Betty's Pies for dinner again on Saturday night. This time the addict and the Beloved both had slices of Chocolate Banana Cream pie.

Sunday brought rain, so we packed up early and headed back to Minneapolis.

But for an addict who had recently slipped into insanity, this weekend brought much to be grateful for:

+ the foot injury is not too serious;
+ time alone with the Beloved is always wnderful;
+ the addict's higher power emminates glory in the outdoors along the North Shore;
+ wonderful food provided extra joy;
+ there was a nice Father's Day celebration upon our return.

Thank you, Higher Power, family, and friends!

This addict is truly grateful!