Know Your Enemy, Know Yourself

I now teach two classes at the jail.  One is 'Understanding Addiction' and the other is 'Expressive Writing'.  I teach them back to back and so I decided to find a way to tie them together and this came to mind.

So it is said, that if you know your enemy and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss. If you only know yourself, but not your opponent, you may win or may lose.
If you know neither yourself, nor your enemy, you will always endanger yourself.
                                                                                                     SunTzu


The Chinese general responsible for writing the book, The Art of War, which I have never read, BTW, is widely known for this quote.  I don't know why this quote came to mind but it did and so I used it and am now seeing that this was perhaps, divinely inspired.

The program for re-entry my class is a part of is primarily religious based ( a protestant denomination) and so when they handed me a packet with the twelve steps containing scripture to go along with each step, I was leery.

I am a good Catholic.  But, I have learned from my twelve-step program, that it is important to have a thorough understanding of what a power greater than MYself really means and to know who I think that POWER is.  Many of us worship our own illusion of power without ever realizing it.

Apropos to that last sentence, back when I was trying to cure and control the addictions of others, I read Gabor Mate's book, In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts.  His insight is eye opening and radical relative to current ideas on addiction.  He introduces people with addictions and their stories.  Then he asks us to always ask the question, "not why the addiction, but why the pain."

That book helped me to look beyond the symptomatic behavior of addiction and to see the person instead.  To me, that is key.  It is an act of mercy to see every person and not just see their failings.  Father Greg Boyle, SJ often says that, we are more than the sum total of our worst mistakes or something along those lines.  (Sorry Father G if that is wrong).

I started using this book because when I ask how many in the class are addicts or alcoholics (this happens each and every semester) few raise their hands even though ninety percent in our county jail are there due to drug or alcohol charges.  I wanted them to have an accurate picture of addiction.

Addiction--or enslavement--is the ENEMY.

Now, for knowing thyself, I turned to Divine Therapy and Addiction.  This is a book by Father Thomas Keating OCSO and Tom S.  Tom S. interviews Thomas Keating about the twelve steps of AA and how centering prayer can aid each person in the task of learning who we really are.  He also takes an in depth look at happiness; what it is and where it can be found.

First of all, let me just say that each of these books is not for you if you are in the market for a fluffy beach read.  They are deep and thought provoking.  And, they are technical.  If the class weren't thrust upon me at the last minute, I might have prepared something different.  Something on a simpler level. 

You see, most classes whose curriculum is prepared with inmates in mind, targets the vocabulary at a sixth grade level.  And, many days, my students behave like middle school girls, looking out the window at any male inmate who happens to walk past our classroom.  They whisper and giggle.  Sometimes they try to shock me with sexually explicit discussions.  They become easily bored and so if you aren't really on, you have lost them.

I began my class by reading a few personal narratives from the addicts in Mate's book.  They were totally engrossed.  I picked some hard core addicts stories and some functional alcoholics and a few in between.

Then we read step one and talked about powerlessness. I didn't need to speak much about unmanageable, that part is easy to get.  But, powerlessness, takes time. 

Then we talked about step two: Came to believe that a Power, greater than ourselves..... This is where we talked about who God is to us.  How do we see him?  Do we actually trust him?  I told them that I had a really hard time trusting Him with my son, especially in the beginning....truth be told, I didn't trust him at all with my son.  They were shocked.  The church lady doesn't trust God and says so out loud--gasp!

God had their total attention for three hours.  I just sat there and followed His lead.  It was the most amazing gift to be a part of.  Their faces were like the symbol on your computer that lets you know it's searching for some request that you have made of it.  They would ask questions and you could see surprise or delight when maybe a connection was made.  If I meditate on the most amazing part of that class, it will have to be that when they started to buy in to what I shared, HOPE appeared.

For them and for me.

I realize now that I can only share my experience, my strength, my hope and my prayers for you and the Henry in your life and mine.





 

All Things Spring-y

I'm in cleaning mode.  It's part spring cleaning--part Easter is Sunday and the girls will be home.  Whatever the reason, it feels good to declutter and clean.  It's even nicer to open the windows to invite the fresh air in to chase away the stale dry air of winter. 

Bright blue planters will make their way to the porches just waiting for the safety of a much promised no-more-freezing-May-first.  The hummingbird feeder has been placed and morning coffee resumes on the back porch. 

Come on over and sit for a spell!!!

I love spring.  I love summer.  As I grow older the symbolism that they embody is not lost on me.  How I long for fresh starts and new chances.  I guess we all do.

Since winter began, eight new houses have been built near our home.  It was fun to watch in the beginning.  Now, I wake up each day and pray for landscaping.  Louis, our standard poodle, whose paws more resemble bear claws than dog paws, loves to frolic through the mud next door. (I say frolic because when he runs he sort of canters--head bobbing up and down in rocking horse style movements) 

He is a crazy dog.  He reminds me of Scooby Doo from the cartoon.  When I walk Lucy (Doxie --4 1/2" tall) and him(40 1/2" tall)  together,  he cowers at other dogs.  She goes into protective Mama Bear mode.  I have a leash in each hand with Louis stopping frozen, tail tucked, attached to my leg and Lucy running directly toward any barking dog in the opposite direction than Louis, tail up barking loudly as if to say, "Don't talk to me that way Buddy.  I'll walk on this sidewalk anytime I want."  This exercise is what I like to call doggie yoga--or split your owner.

Speaking of summer, I read a blog written by Sophie Hudson (Boo Mama).  She is really funny to read, especially if you are from the south.  She recommended a lovely summer-time beverage that I tried yesterday and loved!  It is from Chik-Fil-A.  You get one part unsweet tea and one part diet lemonade and voila you have the perfect southern tea.  I just had to share.  Tell me what you think.

I've been working on a book.  It is a book about how addiction changed me and my faith.  The book feels a little like the character from Harry Potter--"He who shall remain nameless" because of the stigma that surrounds addiction.  Who might I hurt if I write this?  Who might behave differently if I publish it?  Have I changed the names?  Should I write under a pseudonym?  Will this cause more harm than good?  Those are questions that I have been asking myself since the idea of writing first began to dance itself around in my imagination.

The act of writing this book was a bit like spring cleaning.  I swept up a lot of scary things into a pile, looked them over, sorted them into categories and tried to put them into some sort of logical order to try to glean some bit of understanding before washing my hands of them. 

Now what to do?  Well, I do not know.  So I am going to pray.  And, walk the dogs and sit on the porch.  Maybe I'll sip some tea.  Happy Easter everyone.  Praying for Henry.  Mine and yours.
 

Looking Back on the Past

I just printed off all of the blog posts that I have written since the beginning.  Two hundred forty-four, single spaced pages.  Sometimes I don't like going back to read because it's so hard.  Sometimes I do because I am able to see some progress.  I'm going to go have it collated.  Here is the proof....proof of a long fought battle for quiet acceptance, proof that our awareness was awakened and continues to grow, proof that in a empty space that mainly housed only me and my fears, now resides a  space full of love of God and his will, with me close by allowing him to show me the way to myself. I wonder if any of you guys have ever done the same? 

A new session has begun at the jail.  I met the ladies for the first time on Thursday.  I am only offering a creative writing workshop this time.  I am relieved that I am not facilitating a class that I do not feel qualified to teach.  I guess some could argue that I am not qualified to lead a writing workshop but my goal is mainly encouraging them to look in and question and effectively communicate with themselves and others. 

I watched a great segment on writing obituaries on Saturday.  I must admit that I love reading them.  There has to be some really great stories tucked in those interesting snapshots of a life.  I learned that in Great Britain, their obituaries aren't always flattering.  I've included one of my favorites to give you a "happy" for today. 

Yesterday I got to spend the entire day alone.  To many, that may sound lonely but to me, it is a necessary part of my sanity.  I need quiet to allow myself to look in and be present with my feelings.  Then, I am able to understand them, deal with them and let them go.  I'll probably turn into the odd little blue haired lady who kids are afraid of before it's over.  Oh well.

I'm beginning to day dream about warm coastal breezes.  I fantasize about winning the lottery and packing only an overnight bag and checking flights not for price but warmth, buying a one way flight and staying as long as I feel like it, shopping for the proper clothes when I get there, eating delicious food and taking a huge stake of books.  Can you imagine? 

The son seems to be making progress, lately.  He has a girlfriend who seems very nice.  He is paying bills on his own.  He is visiting family, hanging out with us, talking on the phone with friends while staying in the same room where we are ( I know that a lot of you get how big that is), trying to quit smoking and making future plans. 

Big Sister is working as a vet assistant until the fall when graduate school begins.  She is paying her own way which was a little shocking to her at first but I'm really proud of the job she is doing.  She is even replacing the tires on her car this week.  That is a big financial burden off our plate.  I'm really proud of her.

Little Sister is quite excited about nursing school.  I purchased hot dogs at the grocery store so that she could practice IP shots!!  It's so funny to look at these kids that I remember so vividly as the little characters now enter adulthood taking on grown up responsibilities.  It's been great finally letting them go.  They are so much more than I could ever force them to be.......

This reason we are all here is the darndest thing, isn't it?  It almost broke us and yet, it has changed things in the most wonderful ways.  I guess that is what I will look for when I read about the past. 

Praying for Henry, my family and yours. 





 

Fools Rush In

I am a talker.  I simply talk too much.  The twelve steps and the practice of them teach us that in order to restore ourselves to sanity that we have to turn our will over to our higher power.  I can easily accept that "concept".  But, really, how do we put that into practice every day?  These 12 steps are so amazing to me.  If you haven't been exposed to them, you should check them out.  You do not have to be an addict to need the 12 steps.  You don't even have to be a family member of an addict to use them.  To me, they apply to everyone.  They can apply to any situation.  Bottom line here, we are simply not and have never been in control.  The reason that I live in my particular situation today is the direct result of my talking and not listening to the will of God. 

So, just how do we listen?  I'm so particularly inept at this skill that I looked up the definition of the word listen.  The verb to listen is to give attention with the ear, to attend closely for the purpose of hearing, to give ear.  Lastly, it says to pay attention, to heed and obey.  Ok, I usually hear what is being said but to heed and obey when it's not my idea.....well....that's where the rubber meets the road. 

One of my very favorite movies is an older one with Salma Hayek, called Fools Rush In.  She was a very devout catholic who believed that God gave us signs and they were everywhere.  Her husband who was less grounded in his faith didn't really believe that.  But, as time passed he came to believe because he started to notice.  He started to feel that this was too orchestrated to be coincidental.  He started to trust. 

So, I've been a lousy listener.  Pig headed, wanting my way not God's way.  I'd like the easy, less painful way that is my idea with a side of I want it right now, thank you very much.  Well, my way, my vision have been just lousy.  Easy didn't make the real issue go away.   Ignoring the signs, the intuitions, being too fearful to really look the devil in the eye just haven't worked.  So, now Lord you have my attention.  I am willing to listen. 

Guess what,  there are signs everywhere!  Who would have thunk?  In family group night of my son's intensive outpatient therapy, you can listen and find nuggets of truth everywhere.  Tiny messages meant to hit home with other members of the group, a perspective not yet considered, a life line, hope, compassion and understanding of what you are going through.  I think I just needed to have my eyes opened.

There is one mom there that I have really connected to.  Her son also attended rehab with mine.  Her son is married and his wife also attends.  They are a wonderful family.  She made a comment one night, that really hit home for me.  She always knew that her son shared many of her attributes.  For example, she mentioned that they were both procrastinators.  She felt that because they shared so many qualities that her expectation of the way that he reacted to situations, the way he thought about things and  the choices he made should be much like the choices that she would have made.  She had to realize that he was not her.  She had to stop getting upset when he didn't react the way she would have.  It didn't make it wrong, just uniquely him.  That was me.  I expected my son to react like me and when he didn't it couldn't possibly be normal.  I am the poster child for normal, right?  Boy when you type out your real honest to goodness thoughts, it becomes painfully evident just how big a fool you really are.  Thomas Merton said that, "The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves and not to twist them to fit our own image." 

My son recently decided that maybe a half way house would be an environment that  could better serve him during the early part of this journey.  I recoiled at the thought of this idea.  I couldn't keep my eye on him.  Those folks couldn't possibly care about his well being like I could, but, I listened to him, REALLY, listened for a change.  Mom, he says, it is here with you guys that I got high.  It is in this area where I can't get out of the people, places and things that I used to do.  It is with other people going through recovery that I can learn.  I need to learn to take care of myself for a change.  I need to be on my own to learn to be on my own.  This is a safe place to start.  His counselor agrees.  He made a great argument.  I have to say that I agree with him.  I'm a little impressed by him.  I could not have seen this perspective if I hadn't listened and a few months back, I probably wouldn't have heard anything outside my thoughts and ideas.

Today, my prayer is to have the wisdom to never stop listening to God.  Whether He speaks to me in my thoughts or he gives me visible signs, I pray that I can stop my own thoughts in order to hear his.  And, I pray for my son's ability to listen to God's direction, the strength to carry out His will and the perseverance for his journey.  And, as always I pray for Henry.