Just yesterday afternoon, in the midst of a lovely slug day, Ben, out of nowhere, said, "how is Uncle Josh?" F and I were shocked, not only by his ability to articulate such a thought, but that he did so while enjoying a nap at the foot of F's chair.
So, I decided that I would post this picture of Ben and his sibs taken on July 17, '08. By way of posting this photo, Ben, Yeshe, and Allie B. Old are saying hi to Uncle Josh.
I've been experiencing a lot of memories lately, and I've thought a lot about what memories are and aren't.
What they are is spontaneous. I can't control or prevent them from arising. Probably the only way not to have memories is to have amnesia and I can't even imagine what that would be like. The only thing I can control is my emotional response to memories. There was a time when I couldn't do that. I would have memories of times and incidents that were emotionally painful or humiliating for me and I would be thrust right back into the pain and discomfort of that moment and situation. Not as intensely, not as despairingly. That has changed. Now I experience most memories without all the emotional baggage.
I don't even know if or when I wanted that to happen. I think by the time I knew that you could actually achieve that I was becoming aware that I was on my way. I don't know if it's aging, or if its meditation and contemplation. I just know that I have aged and I meditate and I contemplate and now it is different.
I remember when my relationship with L ended. Prior to being together I was almost crippled by fear. I was afraid of violence. I was afraid of being caught sleeping and off guard and losing my life in painful ways as a result. At one point in my life that was a realistic fear, but it hadn't been for many years, yet I still experienced aloneness as if it was still my reality. I didn't like to live alone because I feared the fear so much. I feared the sleepless nights, the nightmares and anxiety. The twelve years we were together I lived under the belief that if alone I would experience that again on a daily basis. Then we broke up.
When we parted ways I decided I really wanted to live alone. I was afraid, not of being killed or harmed. I was afraid the fear would be there again and that it would be all encompassing like it had been in the past. I moved into an apt. alone and it didn't happen. I wasn't afraid. I didn't have fear of being alone, of being harmed, of being caught off guard. I was comfortable alone. I felt safe and enjoyed the quiet and freedom that it brought me. I didn't know until I had tested it, until I had put myself in the position to confront it, that it had fallen away during the course of maturing. I had become the person I wanted to be and I hadn't known it until then.
And now I am moving into another area of realizing that who I thought I was has changed. I am experiencing it as a sense of loss. Loss is a weird thing. It makes me very aware. I am aware of the absence of something that I have been accustomed to being part of my psyche or my physical experience. Loss, for me, is awareness of absence, and it is often a relief and a liberating experience though it can also feel strange, scary, and sad. Loss is adjusting to the absence of something I have had to live with. Even if that thing was an obstacle, as they often are, I experience the absence of it as loss. But I know that it's ok, and actually I want to experience more. I want to lose more assumptions, obstacles, preconceived notions of my abilities and opportunities.
I would like my life to be stripped bare of all barriers that prevent me from reaching my full potential as a human being. And what would that look like? What would my life be like if I were living, thinking, functioning to my fullest? I don't even know. And isn't that the point? To imagine what it would look like would be to put some kind of parameters around it. To establish a high water mark, so to speak, for what "fullest" would look like. Maybe I am at this very moment living to my fullest capacity. But will that be true tomorrow? Or the next day?
Frankye and I watched a very good movie the other day. It was called Holy Smoke and starred Kate Winslet and Harvey Keitel. The film is about a young woman who goes to India (from Australia) and falls under the spell of a guru. Her family becomes alarmed and hires the best de-programmer America has to offer. The heart of the film is about the time the de-programmer and the young woman spend together challenging one another's life and belief assumptions.
I thought it was a powerful film. F did not, though she felt it was enjoyable and beautifully photographed, which it is. I related very much to the film and as a result I have had an on-going stream of memories just bombarding my mind. I feel like I'm living in a meteor shower of memories from my late teens to my early 20s. The memories are not disturbing, though that period of my life was. It's as if the memories are just pieces, fragments, floating, detached, and I am finally making sense of it all. With that has come a sense loss. I feel a sense of loss about opportunities that I didn't even know I had. I didn't reject them. I didn't know they were there. And that "unawareness" makes me sad, because if there is one thing that I can say I would do over again it would be that. I don't know that I would have taken any of the oportunities. I would just like to have known they were there.
I am a Blue Crayon |
 Your world is colored in calm, understated, deep colors. You are a loyal person, and the truest friend anyone could hope to find. On the inside, you tend to be emotional and even a bit moody. However, you know that people depend on you. So you put on a strong front. Your color wheel opposite is orange. Orange people may be opinionated, but you feel they lack the depth to truly understand what they're saying. |
I had a lovely sobriety anniversary day yesterday. Friends remembered and told me so. I had a busy work day but lots of energy and good feeling all day. It was a good day.
It was preceded by a good weekend. By the time I got home from work Friday night I didn't feel too well. I had a headache off and on since Wednesday afternoon. The Q was in town and we had lunch together at India Restaurant. She looks great, and Andrea looks great and it was a pleasure to see them. I went back to work after lunch and slowly the ongoing headache returned. F and I chilled out, spent the evening watching the first 4 episodes of "The L Word" on a netflix DVD, and then went to bed.
Saturday I dragged myself through a series of chores, including going to KTC for some bookkeeping work (I had a severe headache at that point and could not practice.) Afterwards I went home and napped. I could have slept for hours on end but didn't. Again, F and I had a quiet evening. By Saturday evening the sharpness of my headache had dulled. I went to bed and read until 1 then fell into a deep sleep.
Alice B. Old decided I didn't need to sleep past 5:45. So I got up and enjoyed the morning quiet and no headache. I read, watched the news, did some on-line surfing, had breakfast with the dogs, talked to josh on line and then went out and shopped for groceries.
At noon the Q came over for brunch. F made wonderful blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs. We had a pot of my favorite New Mexico Pinon coffee and chatted and caught up. As usual, we laughed, reminisced, and ate too much. After a while we moved into the den and settled into lazy boy chairs. The Q and I napped and F farted around with the animals. At 3:30 we left to go to Bruster's for ice cream and then dropped the Q at Andrea's house. It was a really lovely day.
It was fun to be with the Q again. I miss the Q and josh. I miss our weekend get togethers, dinners at each others houses, hours spent giggling in Borders or Barnes & Noble. Having the noodles and teckles all together in one room. But life changes and it's not a bad thing. They certainly seem to be much happier in MD.
F and I enjoy our quiet evenings together and the routine of our lives. We've settled into a comfortable and companionable lifestyle. We want for little, have everything we need, and desire just enough material comforts with our meager means to prioritize and set goals. We both agree that excess money is worth saving for trips rather than acquisitions. Being in the mountains, away from the city, quiet, relaxed, and creative, is worth the wait. We look forward to a time when we can return to the desert in NM and spend time making art and exploring. We'd like to own an RV at retirement time and spend months at a time in places we love.
But that's the future. And having 2 of our closest friends in the same city is the past. And it's ok. Today life is good as it is. It's different, but it's good.
I'm not French. I know next to nothing about French history. Yet every year for the last 32 years I celebrate the now 219 year old French holiday, Bastille Day.
Bastille Day commemorates the storming of the French Prison, which not only held prisoners indicted by the crown for un-appealable offenses, but also was used as an armory. The holiday commemorates what the French believe was the start of the modern French Republic. Kind of like our Boston Tea Party.
Bastille Day coincides with my own day of liberation from the prison of addiction. Thirty-two years ago today I decided I needed to stop drinking. I was a daily drunk at that point. Not working. Unable to work, because of my drinking. Living once again in the nightmare of round the clock intoxication and unmanageability. I had been there before and I knew the scenery well. I never slept the night of the 13th. I drank and drank and drank all day and night and couldn't get drunk enough to forget that what I was doing was futile and that if I kept doing it I was going to relive my past and probably not survive it this time.
I couldn't sleep. I just sat in the home of my most recent drinking buddies, until it was a reasonable time (9 AM) and I could call my friend Betty. Betty was the mother of a friend of mine. Her son Vito and I had been through drug rehab together and Betty and I had also become friends. There was an Italian connection there. Betty was a sober alcoholic. She had been sober about 5 years at the time.
I called Betty and went to her house and told her I needed to get sober. I stayed with her for the first 3 days of my sobriety. I basically detoxed in her home.
Betty took me to my first AA meeting. She told me I never had to have a first day again. She talked to me for hours on end while I couldn't sleep. She refrained from laughing at me when I read the 12 steps and said arrogantly, "I've done all these." She invited her sober friends to her house and we had an AA meeting sitting around her kitchen table. She fed me. Gave me a bed to sleep in, and kept bringing me to meetings. Thanks Betty! If not for you, I'm not so sure I would have been able to get sober 32 years ago. She always told me to just pass it on.
Thirty-two years is a long time to not do something. Because of Betty, the people she introduced me to, and the things I heard in AA meeting rooms ("the rooms"), I know that just because I haven't had a drink in 32 years doesn't mean that I am not an alcoholic anymore. It just means I don't live like an active alcoholic anymore.
It was only last week when the thought of sitting and drinking some wine crossed my mind. It was a month ago, prompted by something I read, that I wondered what it would be like to do LSD now, knowing what I know, and being of sounder mind than I was 40 years ago when I first start doing acid. The thoughts still arise to drink, to smoke pot, to taste heroin or utilize meth to pump up my energy level. They arise and they get batted away almost involuntarily like swatting a mosquito biting my arm or a fly buzzing about my head.
But the thoughts still arise. They always will. A cold beer on a hot day, or at the ballgame, will always be appealing. Because of that I remain diligent in my adherence to practices I learned in early sobriety. No eating food cooked with alcohol. No using mouth wash with alcohol, or tooth paste with alcohol, or other ingestible products made with alcohol. I do no recreational anesthetizing, no matter how good the thought of that may be at times. No erosion of the practices I established to get sober. That has been my commitment.
So today I celebrate another 365 24-hour periods of continuous sobriety. I celebrate silently all day long. I pat myself on the back for a job well done, again, this day, the only day that I have to make my continued sobriety a reality. I'll feel good about it all damn day.
Barack at Risk is an interesting commentary by Tom Hayden in this week's The Nation.
It Was Oil, All Along by Bill Moyers and Michael Winship.
I had a strange but very nice 3 day weekend. It was strange because I was clearly still in vacation mode. My brain was just not engaged with what my body needed to be doing. I misplaced my wallet, my cell phone, my eye glasses, my book, my mala beads. So many things.
Fryday I was a total slug. I don’t think I left the house at all. I was like a lump on the couch, a small part of my mind scanning the web, a smaller part listening to the TV, the largest part completely spaced out. I had a wonderful nap as well. I probably could have had 2 or 3 naps, but didn't.
Saturday I got up early and went to sangha. Afterwards, I went to pick up JuJu, but while on the phone with Lori, drove way past the turn and wound up down by NAS Jax. After the u-turn, I stopped to see Taylor, as I was driving past Caffeino anyway. I got a mango smoothie that was so cold it made my forehead and the base of my skull hurt! But it was delicious. It kept me conscious enough to drive safely to pick up Julian.
I successfully picked up Julian and we went to The Loop for lunch. At that time I had no idea where my wallet was and I had a mere $17 for us both to have lunch. I had a bowl of tomato bisque soup and Ju had....., whatever he had. It came to $16 something because I had coins left over. After lunch we went home. Ju hung out with F in the den and I went to bed for a nap. I slept 3 hours. When I got up Ju and I watched the end of the NYY/BOS game. Yankees won!!!! Then I made dinner. We all chatted and ate and at about 8 pm we went to Bruester’s for an ice cream cone and then took Julian home. What an exciting day!
Yesterday I was a little more functional, physically. Still not too connected. At noon I went to visit my cousin and Aunt and Uncle who were in Jax visiting other family. I love them all and rarely get to see them. My cousins' daughter is almost 6 (!) and just the most adorable little girl. Around 3 pm I came back and picked up F. We went to Borders for a short while, as we hadn’t been in quite a while.
Afterwards we were scheduled to meet Shannon, Lori and Dwight at Vito's. We were in Borders and I had no idea what time it was. My watch has a dead battery and I could not find my cell phone. Finally, F received a call from Lori telling us that Vito's was closed, as were most of the restaurants in the area due to electrical outages. By then it was storming, with rain and lots of lightening. We decided to see if there was a Japanese restaurant open near Bay Meadows and Southside, and actually found an Italian Restaurant called Guiliana's open. We made calls to all parties concerned and met there for dinner It was a nice restaurant, comfortable and the food was very good. We all enjoyed it.
F had brought with us gifts for Shannon's birthday, which was on the 28th, and (I thought) I had a gift for Lori and Dwight, thanking them for house sitting. Of course, I had forgotten it. I had laid it on my backpack (so I wouldn't forget it) before we left the house, but had absently moved it so I could get my backpack. DUH!!
Ok, I'm tired of this now. Time to get back to function mode. I have to work, and function, and not make mindless mistakes. No more pretending that I can just go away internally as well as physically. I need to pay attention. But it's so hard. I'm so relaxed. I'm so relaxed that for the first days after vacation started my neck hurt. My shoulders had lowered about 4 -5 inches and the stretching of my neck muscles was painful. F said I look stoned and have a far off look in my eyes. I just feel relaxed.
Later
Okey, dokey. Apparently I saved this post this morning but never published it. So the malaise continues. It's going to be a long day!!
Things are getting tight. Money tight. Not just for us, but for everyone. I see it everywhere. The last few times I was at Publix I noticed prices were higher, and lines at checkout were shorter. While we were in NC prices were outrageous. But when we came home we found that prices here in Jacksonville had also increased.
The other day I bought 5.8 gallons of gas for $24.99. That will get me about 120 miles. Glad I don't have my old job anymore where I traveled around to the counties, some days traveling well over 100 miles. There is no way I could afford doing that today.
I sound like an old fart, I know. Talking about rising prices. F and I sit and watch TV and are amazed when people use the word fart on television, or commercials that target men with "weak streams" and erectile dysfunction. We hear ourselves talking about how no one values anything any more, how we live in a disposable society and how wrong that is. Just 2 old farts, not adjusting to change.
Every generation has moved into that behavior as they approached 60, 70, 80 years old. The world changes faster than we can adjust to it. I know I have gotten to the point where computers are the outer limits of my technological expertise. I wouldn't know what to do with an iPod or any of the new kind of cell phones. I don't have a camera on my cell phone. That's not what phones are for. At least not for me.
Speaking of change, I had an epiphany while on vacation. F and I were driving and passed a big truck on the road. I was in the passenger seat and as I turned to look at the truck we were passing I noticed pig snouts sticking out between the slats of the truck. Many, many pig snouts. They were jammed in there like the Jews put in cattle cars to Auschwitz. That is the image that came into my mind. I realized that they were being sent to slaughter in the same way the Jews were, and that it was also horrific, even though they were animals and not humans.
It hit me like a brick that I am a participant in that brutality regardless of how removed I am from the process. I can stare at "meat products" wrapped in cellophane on a shelf in the supermarket and not feel any more connection to the process than I do to the process of growing a tomato when I buy those. But I am connected to the process of both of those products merely by consuming them.
I felt sick from the sight of the pigs and decided that I would commit to vegetarianism. This is something I have thought about for quite awhile. For years in fact. I have never felt ok about eating meat again, but I have done it with gusto at times. Each time, discarding the thoughts of how wrong it is. Last December, H.H. Karmapa came out with a statement on meat eating, promoting vegetarianism and encouraging practitioners to stop eating meat. It has been on my mind daily since I read his comments about it. I am now ready to commit to it.
Being vegetarian is something I did for 10 years. I liked it and didn't have a hard time with it. It takes more work preparing foods and more thought to make sure meals are balanced and that there is enough protein. When I lived in NY it was easier in many ways because fresh made tofu was so readily available. I have not been able to find 1 single vendor here who sells fresh tofu. That is the best source of protein for vegetarians, and for me, since I can't eat rice too much. But I will focus on it and do everything I can to be make this transition successful.
I love national holidays. They don't exclude anyone living in America. Everyone who is on American soil on a national holiday can participate. There is no exclusion based on religion, creed, race or nationality. Independence day is a particularly good holiday to me. There are no expectations for it. It's a day off. It's a day we usually spend at home. No expectations. No stress to be happy or festive or celebratory. A day to do whatever the hell we please to do. And I am happy to do just that. 
I returned to work after a 12 day vacation. When I have a good vacation I am always happy to come back to my job. I love my job, enjoy my co-workers, and feel like what I do adds depth and meaning to my life. So, while I can't wait to be retired, as long as I "have" to work, I am so grateful to be doing that here. Two days of work this week and now a 3 day weekend. Life is grand!
