I be packing

1 in the morning and still packing. This is what it looks like from the floor inside our closet. You know. Just in case you were wondering. Only the nectar of the gods (mtn dew) is keeping me conscious. And of course the fact that I get to see my wife tomorrow for the first time in what feels like an eternity. Actual time? 12 days. Way too long any way you slice it.

Making time for the present

There exists only the present instant... a Now which always and without end is itself new. There is no yesterday nor any tomorrow, but only Now, as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be a thousand years hence.

The venerable Leo Babauta and his Zen habits blog is worth your time. I read it often. Recently he described tips for finding more time in our busy lives to do all the things we really want to do and eliminate the fluff, the unnecessary, the burdensome. The post is great. Most of his posts are.

Usually, I get a lot out of the blogs I read, especially tiny inspirations for change. But for the first time when I read this I was ahead of the game. I was already doing this (yay me!).  A short while back I remember that felt like. Being pulled in a million different directions with too many commitments and not enough time for the things I really wanted or for the people I deeply valued. Then something happened.

I started small. Little changes in my life. Those cliches I get inundated with at meetings or in conversation with friends were suddenly and strangely relevant and illuminating. One day at a time. One decision at a time. Easy does it. 

I started getting up earlier in the day, on the advice of a new friend. I started mediating in the morning. I started writing more. I hated a lot of this at first, believe me, but slowly it became a habit. Suddenly my mornings were filled with more down time and "me" time than I knew what to do with. By the time I got home in the evening, I was ready to relax with my wife or enjoy the company of friends. This was a few months back and many of these small "decisions" are now purely habit. They are just something that I do.

I like knowing that when I channel my energy toward maximizing my day and making time for the things and people I love, magical things happen. Especially when it comes to things I might not be entirely willing to integrate into my routine.

So today, I make no apologies for being, on my best days, a walking cliche.

Dudes...

Grateful for the Minnesota Twins (even when they lose), snow at Target field, layers, gloves, caps, and awesome mates. 

The cold & wet

When I hiked the appalachian trail for six months you can bet I got wet. And cold. And tired. But I wouldn't change a thing. In fact, the harshest days, the ones where everything seemed to go wrong, are the days I remember best.

I had flashbacks on my way to work this morning. I took the bus halfway but still managed to get sopping wet. I was cold. The wind seemed to blow against me from every direction. And once I got over myself and the cold, I smiled. Clothes dry. So do people.

Hoppy Easter

Food. Coma.

This too shall pass...

Yesterday I was all set to post about how terrible my week was going. Stuck in my head. Tired from biking in the snow and rain. Missing teresa and sad about leaving.

Then I wake up after asking for help and all is better. I'm not as agitated. Not as lonely. Not as scared about how it all plays out.

I need the perspective to know that everything changes and passes in time. That I'm right where I'm supposed to be. That life has a way of going up and down. And some days there aint a damn thing to be done but hang tight.

Bait & Switch

"When we are willing to learn, the Universe will surely disclose many things to us."

Of course there are times that I'll sit and think about all the things I don't have. That shinier car or that big house and expensive toys. When I start, it's hard to stop. I scan the lives of others and quietly (sometimes not so quietly) begrudge my life and circumstances. Woe is me. I focus exclusively on the things I do not have and wish I did, and I wonder how happiness eludes me. I'll never get "those" things or have "that" life.

http://thewhizzer.blogspot.com/

This inevitably leaves me agitated, even doubtful that my life is headed in the right direction. After a few minutes, possibly hours of making myself miserable I finally stop. I tell my brain, "Enough!"I quiet my thoughts as best I can and decide it's time to redirect my thinking. I have the power to do this. Most days anyway.

I remind myself that my thoughts do not define my being. They are just thoughts and I have thousands of them each day. Some stick, some don't. Growth is cultivating the thinking that works and discarding the sort that doesn't. 

STP

Bike rides home and skyline views. One of my favorite places on earth.

Stargazing

On Thursday I met with a client from the same outpatient treatment facility I attended (after a call from my old counselor). Less than 2 months sober, he's doing what I did not so long ago: trying to carve out a new life sans spirits.

In fact, today is officially my 3 year sobriety anniversary. Crazy. Any milestone of sobriety blows my mind, whether it's myself or someone else. When they arrive, it's almost impossible not to reflect at least a little. Three years ago this was my life: no car, no license and about to fitted for an ankle bracelet courtesy of the county, massive fines, weekends in county jail, tired, defeated, deflated, ashamed, et al. A veritable basket case of emotions.

The last time I drank I didn't black out either. Surprising because I blacked out almost every time. It was normal. I remember being at a bar in Northeast Minneapolis and sitting out on porch staring at my half empty glass of beer and smoking. I remember looking around at all the people laughing and drinking, and then looking up at the clear sky and bright stars overhead and suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness.

 An older woman and I made eye contact, and whether we shared the same sentiment or not (it felt like we did) I remember thinking there has to be more than this. The despair on her face felt like a reflection of my own. I was supposed to be contributing more to myself, more to others, and this lifestyle wasn't cutting it anymore. I had become such a cliche, a drunk who can't stop drinking, and I was so tired of it. That afternoon I told myself I wasn't going to drink that night and here I was, at it again. I felt betrayed somehow, like I couldn't even trust myself to make my own decisions anymore. It was a bizarre moment of clarity for an otherwise oblivious wanderer. I begrudgingly finished my drink and wandered home with friends.

That night I didn't get any smarter, nor did I somehow have a magical spiritual relief. The next months and years were tough as I had to change everything about how I lived and thought. That night sticks out though because I was sick and tired of lying to myself. Maybe I didn't attain some level spiritual clarity, but that night I did make a decision, unconsciously perhaps, to be honest about how I lived my life.

That honesty is still with me (I hope). Reflection is good thing to do from time to time. It reminds me how all things are prelude to this moment - like them or not. It reminds me I'm right where I'm supposed to be today. I look around at the friends I have, the family I get to share life with, and the wife who loves me just as I am (crazy and all).  These are promises that come true. It often feels like borrowed time - and I try not to waste it.

I'm grateful for this second chance.

It begins...

On Monday I gave my notice of resignation (final day of work May 13). On Tuesday my boss gave her resignation (expected final day of work April 29). Yesterday she just took off. Our two team department went from 2, to 1. Soon to be none. I hadn't planned on submitting my notice until later in the month but I'm glad it went down like it did this week. Try as I might, I can never predict how events our going to unfold.

It's times like these I'm grateful for a loving wife, great friends, and a relationship a God (dare I use the G word) that works for me. It's because of those things I can handle the awkward chaos of work and the big changes looming ahead. I can look people in the eye today and not be afraid of speaking my truth, even if it disappoints or disrupts their plans. As a reluctant participant in conflict, I'd rather run for the hills than do that. But this week something is different and the for the last few days I've been rolling with it. I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

Road Rage

On my way home from work yesterday I found myself agitated by several nearby drivers. Some were on phones, smoking joints. One lady was inches from my back bumper. I even saw someone texting, which isn't surprising. Sometimes this kind of behavior puts me on edge, even makes me want to lash out. 

http://www.ridelust.com

 But I don't. Mostly, I shake my head and move on. On a bad day I want to engage and slam on the brakes to scare the life out of my tailgater. I don't do that either.

The fact is I can't control what other people do. Few places does this become clearer than while commuting. In traffic as drivers whiz by one another and make poor decisions and put themselves and others at risk, there's little to be done. Being aware of my own habits behind the wheel is a start. Recognizing the people around me helps too. Above all, I have to be hyper-vigilant to avoid the fray, and adopt some humility in the process. Here I can think to myself - you do this too.

A friend of mine likes to say "If you spot it, you got it." No wonder these people drive me up the wall.

Think. Stop.

You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger. - Buddha

I'm fortunate to be surrounded by wise and insightful people. These people have helped me to tell on myself, and grow, and change in all kinds of ways I never thought possible. So any advice I get from them I take seriously.

I was told a few weeks back to start writing about what I thought. But not the kind of pontificating you find in lecture halls and dens of university professors, a different sort. He said to write all those things and scenarios I think and play out in my head but rarely verbalize. I've been doing that. It so happens that the vast majority of the "guesses" I make on any given day relating to people, places, or events, are usually far off target. Weatherpersons are probably a bad analogy because they get paid either way, but my winning percentage is god-awful. Sometimes I spend long chunks of time playing out these scenarios in my head too. Time wasted - and for what?

These dress rehearsals I hold in my head have the potential to manifest themselves in my relationships and in how I act. Controlling what I think has become that much more important in terms of dictating my peace and serenity, and my continued growth. The work is never done but I welcome it. Seeing the misspent energy and lies after the fact makes it easier not to always trust what I think.

Measuring Success

http://dannybrown.me

In my meditation this morning one of the passages focused on the definition of personal success. A difficult thing to nail down considering the subjective nature of success. What qualifies as personal achievement for you is not necessary a victory for me, that sort of thing. 

I think deep down I know this, but I fight it with a misconception I have (perhaps even further down) that there is a one size fits all success box I'm supposed to be able to fit my life into. Lots of money in the bank, respect in the community, boat loads of friends, and all the material possessions I can quickly hoard. Of course, this misconception is just that, a lie I tell myself.

I know this isn't novel. But this is one among many things I am working on to deprogram myself of, rewire my thoughts, philosophies and ideas. As I watch the sun come up this morning I remind myself that I define what success truly means to me. And as I do, I get a little closer to understanding what that even means.

I am small and that's ok

The Mississippi on the first real day of spring is a pretty spectacular sight to behold. The sun cuts through branches and sprouting buds determined,  then pushes and shimmers upon the massive moving waters flowing south. Today on a walk I stopped and stared at the Ford damn, watching the water pour over a ledge with tremendous force. I imagined all the things that wouldn't stand a chance in this furious, constant whirlpool below (myself included) and I just felt small. Insignificant. You just have to respect forces like that - around me at every corner if I stop to notice.

http://www.pineedge.com

An education in prayer

I attended catholic school growing up and up until my first communion, I had no real beef with the Church or with God. Sometime in 2nd or 3rd grade though it all went south. I started noticing all the things I didn't like about forced congregation. The smell of incense and other disquieting scents emanating from this high ceiling wooden steeple. Not surprising, it was the kneeling that bugged me most. I loathed it. I know, imagine, a 9 year old who doesn't want to sit on his knees for an extended period of time. But looking back it was more than that, or it somehow started there.

I began questioning all the pageantry, and then the people. Then I got angry. Kneeling was a painful chore I was forced to do and for what I thought at the time? Because somebody was telling me to. That made me angrier until I just started drifting away.

It took me a long time to make peace with that frustration and anger. A show this weekend reminded me of kneeling, describing its purpose: to humble my ego, not bow down to a fire and brimstone creator and browbeat myself. Somewhere along the way I mixed that up. It wasn't until I was 27 that I decided to try it again. I keep trying and my new education in prayer looks different than the foxhole prayers of a child not getting his way. Most days anyhow.

I'm not sure if I'll be a church goer again. But I do pray now, every day. Very differently though. Sometimes, when my ego can stomach it, even on my knees.