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.





 

Draw What You See

Sirens racing past.  Two police cars, another unmarked and one ambulance.  I'm picking up dinner as I see them pass, wondering what could be going on in our small town.  The ten o'clock news reveals that there is a hostage situation at our county jail.  It is the same county jail that I have volunteered at for the last five years.  It is where I will be in just a few short hours.

A local detective who has worked closely with animal control has been placed on administrative leave without pay, pending investigation of misconduct.  My husband has worked with him for years.  He has always respected him. 

In high school, I took an art class.  I wanted desperately to be an artist.  But, I could not draw.  I was a serious coloring book aficionado, growing up.  But, drawing left me frustrated.  In our very first class, the teacher gave us each a huge sketching pad and pencil, placed an object in the front of the room and said, "draw what you see." 

That was it.  As she walked around the room, I stopped her and said, "I just can't seem to do this."  She looked at me and smiled, "draw what you see."  And that is all that I got for the rest of the year.

It wasn't until I began to write and I was told, "Don't tell me, show me", that I started to understand my problem.  As I began to put on paper what I actually saw, separating it from the way that I felt, I realized how often I saw with my head instead of my eyes. 

What do I actually see?  How has my perception colored what is?

A friend posted her son's " one second movie" on Facebook.  There is an app where you record one second each day for a year and then it creates a movie from your collection of one second videos.  It was so interesting that I decided to buy the app and make my own movie.  My friend's son is a professional; not only was his movie very good, he made it look easy.

He pointed out that this app, helped him to look for the good in each day.  It's true.  I am more observant.  I am always on guard for that moment--a second that is worthy of interest. But, for me, it also helped me to see that a random moment probably isn't so random.

And, perhaps I am learning that what I see has many more layers.  And, separating what I see from what I feel has tremendous value.  Maybe that is why I write.  Maybe seeing with my head and my heart are just as important to the story.  Maybe that is why I have so many questions. 

As the mother of a recovering addict and alcoholic, staying in each moment and realizing that I can't "see" beyond what is within the scope of my vision or the confines of my heart and mind has given me tremendous freedom.  It also helps me to be responsible with my moments--my seconds of each day that all too often, I tend to take for granted.

This post may be a bit random.  But, sometimes these seemingly arbitrary moments won't leave my thoughts.   When that happens, I usually know that there must be a nugget of value in them.  Why did my mind tie advice from a high school teacher to yesterday's news and a friend's FB post? 

To me this is fascinating.  It is a part of why I love to write.  I hope that you will capture what is special about your day and unearth what the moment has for you to learn.

Feeling grateful for the lessons learned in recovery and this community.  I'll take time today to pray for Henry--yours and mine.





 

Today's Leper

I watched a Today Show piece "Rossen Reports" on drunk drivers yesterday morning that was really bothersome to me.  The piece focused on the alarming number of repeat offenders who go basically unpunished.

The part of the piece that bothered me the most was when Rossen went to the door of the man who had many DUI's asking why he continued to drink and drive.  The man replied, "Because I'm drunk all the time."

The report then went from that scene to a statement from a MADD spokesman. 

If a family member of mine was killed or hurt by a drunk driver, I would in fact be mad too.  I would want retribution.  I would hopefully use that trauma as these women do to protect others. 

I worry that a loved one of mine will be the cause of a death because he or she is drinking and driving.  It is one of my great fears as the mom of an alcoholic. 

Those are all of the facts.  But, the problem that I have with that piece is not so much with what it said, but with what it didn't say but was implied.

Remember the 'War on Drugs'?  I am curious who benefited from that war.  What are your thoughts?  To me, I think a few politicians gained the most by spewing a few sound bites that sound like something might just happen to eliminate a terrible problem if we just wage war against this elusive enemy--drugs.

Remember the commercial "This is your brain (showing a frying pan) This is your brain on drugs (break an egg into the pan)?  I wonder if that really stopped anyone from trying drugs. 

When I saw the man who said, "because I'm drunk all of the time" I didn't see a guy who was having a good time.  I saw a man in pain.  I saw a man who did not know how to stop. 

Does that excuse his decision to drive?  NO!

Then why am I bothered?

I am bothered because that report falls under the "If it bleeds, it leads" column for me.  Yes, perhaps the spotlight will be placed on states with lenient laws for repeat offenders.  But, as a gal who volunteers in the county jail, I have a few questions for you: 

Do you understand that part of the definition of addiction is that the need to use or drink is so great that they will do anything regardless of the consequence?

Did you know that Dr Gabor Mate, an addiction doctor in Canada, says that we need to stop asking 'why the addiction and instead ask why the pain'?

Did you know that author John Bradshaw says that at the root of all addictions is shame?

Do you know what the rate of recidivism is from most jails or prisons?

I think that you and I and those who have lost a loved one to drunk driving all want the same thing.  None of us want to see lives lost.  But, how do we accomplish that?  Should there be tougher sentences?

I do not know the answer.  But, I suspect that we need more than just incarceration.  I think we need to offer some sort of treatment before we turn them out to just do it again.  And, there is one thing that is for sure:  if we shame and blame they are less likely to come forward for treatment before a tragedy strikes.

Remember the parable of the Leper?  I think we just keep living that parable over and over again.  I think we should all be looking at the bottom line.  The bottom line is that we want to prevent deaths as the result of addiction.  The question should be are we using every possible avenue to do it?

I'm praying for all of our loved ones and for those who have suffered as a result of them.







 

MYOB

I had forty-five days.  Forty-five days where I simply had no control.  He had forty-five days.  Forty five days where he had no control.  We had no power.

For forty-five days, I could admit that I was powerless.  I really haven't had any trouble admitting that my life was unmanageable.  But, admitting powerlessness, that was another thing all together.

But, for those forty-five days, I was actually aware that I was totally under God's care.  I had my ups and my downs.  Sometimes I felt brave only to crash and feel hopeless later.

By the end, I had accepted that I could not make a difference.  Before, I was so adamant about showing unconditional love.  Now, I questioned that love.  Was it really unconditional or an effort to love him out of his addiction (manipulate)?

The best thing that I did, was pay attention.  If I could quit planning long enough to just be present, then I could learn so much more. 

What if I stopped judging everything that he said ...what if I stopped thinking..., 'that sounds irresponsible or it sounds like someone who is not on the right road to recovery...' You know those crazy thoughts--If I could stop long enough to just witness who he is as a child of God, what would I see differently. 

So I became a spectator.  I watched deeply.  I listened intently.  Every time that I tried to get all 'judgy' I asked God to help bring me back.  The more I watched, the more I liked watching.  He is a very smart, fun and loving person to be around.

Once after he came home but before he went back to Sober Living, I was unable to stop myself.  "I'm just so worried because I haven't heard you say that you weren't going to drink again."  I said with tears rolling down my cheek (extra guilt thrown on top ).

"Mom, I feel bad.  I don't want you to cry.  But, I can't say that.  I don't know that I can say it.  So I'm not going to."

Crap.  Double crap.  I blew it again.  "Please Lord help me.  I knew better but I just could not stop myself.  Help me fix it.  Amen."

"I'm sorry."  I repeated. 
"I don't want you to feel bad because of me."  He said.
"I am the one who is sorry.  If it weren't you, it would be something else.  It's what I do."  I said.

 He looked surprised.  I felt better.  It was all true.  It was my stuff.  We are on this parallel journey.  If I can just stay on my path, I think it will all be okay.

These hardships are but lessons on living.  I'm praying for us all.  And, for Henry, of course.
 

Numb

"Well Mama, I think we have finally become numb."  The Dad said over our lunch, last Friday.
We were traveling to Columbus Ohio to the Dad's thirty year veterinary school reunion when I received a call from a bail bondsman letting me know that the son had been arrested for a DUI, his second in a month.

The Son has worked very hard to stay off of drugs.  But, he hasn't yet accepted his powerlessness over alcohol.  We did not bail him out, this time.  We did not try to manage his consequences.  This time, we tried to manage our lives, instead.

As I sat over lunch I thought about it, numb was the perfect adjective.  I didn't feel anything.  I didn't feel the panic, that I might have felt early on.  I didn't feel all that surprised.  Parents/loved ones know when the distance of addiction is present.  And, we know that something is probably brewing just over the horizon.

Instead of changing our plans to hover over the latest crisis, we went on our trip, taking in each activity with gratitude.  We stopped for lunch at a Jerry's restaurant, one that we had eaten at many times while growing up because it was the only restaurant in Elizabethtown KY.  I'd like to say that we didn't worry at all, but you would all know how impossibly untrue that can be. 

We stopped in Lexington Kentucky at the historic Keeneland Race Course and watched a few races while enjoying the beautiful sunshine that blanketed the still green pastures of central Kentucky.  From there we headed north and once we crossed the Ohio river we took in a little Cincinnati style chili at Skyline Chili.  Finally we finished our journey north by arriving at our hotel in Columbus.

The next morning after breakfast, we went to the All American Quarter Horse Congress, a show that is the culmination of all of the American Quarter Horse show season where the best of the best compete.  When my mind tried to return to the illusion of what I'd like to control, I would try to steer it in the direction of  'what am I to learn from today for my life.'  Then we had a little Rotola's pizza, the Dad's favorite from vet school and a trip to Barnes and Noble--what trip is complete without a new book or two?

We went back to the room and I read while he watched THE Ohio State cream Rutgers.  Then we headed to the reunion.  We visited and chatted.  Most were strangers to me.  At one point the Dad whispered in my ear, " Are you okay?"

Quite automatically I responded, "Yes, I am, now that I know who I am."

I'm not sure why that came out.  But, if I think about it, knowing who you really are instead of being the extension of others releases any fear that I might have had before. 

Post addiction, I can go to the reunion and see those who are posturing and think, "Bless their hearts" and enjoy those who are just want to touch base with old classmates.  Knowing who I am is a perpetual exercise in understanding intention.

That exercise allowed me to come to a place where I can let this place that we find ourselves in be about recognizing that this is his disease to figure out.  I will love him....enough to stop offering advice.  I will trust enough that I will allow him the space to feel God's presence and help. 

Numb, yes to the old fears and worries but yet hopeful.  Hopeful that like me, he will start to know who and whose he is and finally to know that that is all that really matters.

Praying for us all.  Praying for Henry.





 

Why don't they just Pull themselves up by their Bootstraps?

I'm back!!!!!  My computer had been sputtering for sometime, but I was determined to get every last breath out of it, but when only a white screen appeared, I knew it was time. Now with a new computer after six to eight years on my old one, there is a tremendous learning curve.

I went to the Southern Festival of Books this weekend.  I absolutely love this event.  I clear my October weekends in preparation for it.  There were over one hundred authors present.  Many of then have a session where they talk about their latest project and answer questions.  And, of course they sell books!  What's not to like?

One of my favorite southern authors is Rick Bragg.  If you have not read "All Over But the Shoutin'", you should.  I bought his new book about the life of Jerry Lee Lewis.  I'm not really crazy to read about his life but Rick Bragg's prose is almost poetic and so I will read anything that he writes. 

I stood in line to have it autographed.  And, what I thought would be a long boring wait, turned into a very interesting turn of events.  Strangers in line began to talk.  We began to share our hero worship of Rick Bragg but somehow the conversation took a turn when one lady that I'll call the church lady, started complaining about minimum wage employees like baggers at the grocery or store clerks.

She went on a rant, "There is just no work ethic anymore.  They ignore you and have those ear buds in while they are working.  I was taught better than that."
 
Another lady in line whom I'll call Compassionate Lady, tried to explain, "well things are different,  many of the minimum wage jobs are people who might not have been blessed to come from a family who taught them some basic skills."

The Church Lady went on to say, "well I just don't understand when you come from the richest nation in the world, that those poor people (she said with air quotes) don't just pull themselves up by the bootstraps like my grandparents did."

Almost in unison, me, Compassionate Lady, a man who had been talking with her said, "it doesn't have anything to do with money." 

Bam!  I couldn't believe it.  With my new post addiction heart, I am rarely in a majority.  The three of us began chatting away.  The man turned out to be a health reporter who also volunteers at a women's prison in Oregon where he is from.

Reporter began talking about a study done that speaks to how hard this new poverty that we face in this country is to overcome.  Mother Teresa herself said that it is easy to feed the hungry but the poverty in America is quite different and much more difficult to overcome. 

When he learned that I also volunteer in a county jail our conversation turned to our experiences there.   He was sickened by the number of women who are incarcerated that were sexually abused and don't know it.  Reporter explained how the definition of sexual abuse needs to widen.  I told him about one lady who said that when she was twelve years old "she let" a seventeen year old have sex with her so she guesses it's her fault.  He told me about an inmate who at fourteen years old "seduced" her stepfather.  They both wonder what is wrong with them that they would do such a thing.

We've separated and segregated ourselves so much that we as a people don't know or want to know what is going on in our own backyards.   I call the lady who initiated our conversation by complaining,  Church Lady because she first told us about all of the "good things" she does for her church.  But, then, is quick to judge and wring her hands over the way the poor bags her groceries.

I was the Church Lady before.  I don't have a right to stand in judgment of her. But, like any addict who goes into recovery, I too, had a conversion.  I like to follow the tradition of St. Ignatius of Loyola who lives by the simple idea of "Seeing God in All Things". 

There is beauty in going to the hard places and seeing hard things.  It is a paradox that is taught by St. Ignatius, St. Francis, twelve step recovery groups and most religions.  But, oddly enough you see it in practice in a twelve step group in a beautiful way that our churches could take a lesson from.

Seeing what I have always seen but with new eyes still shocks me sometimes.  But, it gives me a purpose.  I can be one changed voice.  That's all that I have to do.  Perhaps it will ripple.....I can only pray.

Praying for Henry and many, many others.


 

Mercy Works......

Last Thursday,  I arrived at the county jail to a swarm of busy-ness.  I have two classes each Thursday and in the five years that I have been coming and going, I had never seen such activity.  The day before our local drug task force had captured and arrested thirty-three men and women involved in the illegal purchase and sale of narcotics.  There are still seven under investigation.

When I got home later that day, I looked on my Facebook feed ( which I have a love/hate relationship with) to see various posts of celebration from folks in my county on the arrests of all of those "low lives". 

Some of the comments included sentiments such as "proud to be from a county that locks those thugs away" or "justice is served" or even "so happy that that trash is off our streets".

I found myself growing angry with these people who had made the statements.  I had to sit in quiet with God to figure out the source of my anger and this is what I came up with:

I do think that it is good that we stop the illegal sale of drugs.  I think it's good that these folks receive a consequence for their action.  But, the lynch mob mentality towards those arrested was quite disturbing. 

Each person arrested  is a son or daughter.  Each person arrested is a child of God.  I understand that it is a good thing to discover who is selling them and to stop that person but make no mistake, there will probably be another one there in short order to fill his spot or like the bad disease that addiction is, that drug ring will morph in a new way until the authorities have time to catch up to them.

And then there is this:  I have started working on a new mentorship program there at the jail and I have been asked to work with a lady who gets out near the end of September.  I met her last week for the first time. 

We discussed her needs.  She has no home to go back to, no clothing once out, no job, no family support, no education to speak of, her only ID is a revoked drivers license and she is scared to death.  She has written to every recovery house in our area to try to secure housing but inside jail she can only communicate by mail and on occasion by phone.  The recovery houses have asked her to contact them by phone.  On her few opportunities to phone, she gets a voice mailbox.

I'm going to call this lady Maggie.  Maggie filled out our form which assesses need.  She has held a job for as long as seven years at a time.  She has survived the addiction of her first family, physical, emotional and sexual abuse the best way that she knew how.  Even though at one time she was suicidal, she now feels like she is ready to try living again.

Sitting face to face with this woman taught me a lot about myself.  It was hard at first to look beyond the tattoos and missing teeth.  It was hard to look at the un-kept hygiene of someone who was about an inch away from giving up again.  But then I thought of my mentor ( at least in my mind) who is Mother Teresa.  What would she do?

If you follow her, you know.  I looked deeply into Maggie's eyes.  I kept my gaze there.  Jesus was there and as soon as I reminded myself of that fact, I stopped noticing the evidence of a hard life.  Maggie was weak and soft.  She is a heart crying out to find something that she has never had .....love. 

We talked for the two hours that our class lasted.  Towards the end I asked about whether or not she had a felony.  It is a lot more difficult to secure a job if you have a felony. 
"Yes" she said. 
Was it violent?  I asked.  Another hurdle for finding a job.
"Yes, she said.  I was so high on pills that I stabbed my husband." 
"Is he okay"  I asked. 
"Oh yes, it was superficial.  He's in here now."

Here I am sitting with a lady who stabbed her husband.  And, because we sat face to face and I was able to look beyond the label of 'assault with a deadly weapon', I understand very clearly that I have no right to judge. 

Am I naïve about her chances of reoffending?

 No.

Do I believe that simply locking people up and getting them off the streets for a certain period of time will work or even make our society better?

 No.

But, then I think about my mentor.  Sometimes, when she found the dying in the streets, she only had the time to hold them in her arms and stay with them as they died, gazing into the eyes of Jesus.  She might have taken them back to her Home for the Dying and bathed and fed them knowing that in the end it would not save their life.  But, her goal was only to love and serve. 

And so, for me, that will be my goal.  For whatever period of time that I have with them, I will gaze into the eyes of Jesus....offering the love that is freely given to me in spite of my offenses.  I will leave the final results in the hands of God.

That is the lesson that I wish that I could convey to those who made those comments.  But, then again, you have to be ready to receive the message.

 Funny thing is this:  It took addiction to open my heart to receive enough so that I could give it away.

Praying for us all.
 

The Past Meets the Future

We drove thru Mississippi several times each year when I was growing up.  At Memphis the terrain looked different.  My mother was from Tupelo.  My aunt lived in Jackson.  I loved the beautiful pine trees and the hanging moss trees that dotted the low flat roadways.  Tobacco and corn gave way to cotton and sorghum.  I always wondered about Billie Joe McCalister as I crossed the Tallahatchie River.  The visits with my cousins were fun and a little exotic to a girl from such a small town in Kentucky.  I memorized the drive.

Cousin and I saw the movie "Grease" four times one summer until Uncle found out and put a stop to it!!  We delivered the Clairon Ledger early in the morning wearing shorts and t-shirts and rollers in our hair.  We rode bikes to the pool and ice cream shop and sometimes to Kroger to buy shrimp off a truck that brought it fresh from the gulf each day.

The last time that I made that trip was twenty-seven years ago to be a bridesmaid in my cousins wedding.  The church was a beautiful stone building right across the street from the state capitol building in Jackson.

Big Sister is going to grad school.  She will be a doctoral student at Louisiana Tech University.  The first trip we made, we went thru Arkansas.  It was exhausting.  The second trip, we drove thru Jackson and went west thru Vicksburg on past Monroe to Ruston.  Memories began to flood back into my mind. 

My daughter would travel these same roads that me and my mother did.  She was going as far away from home that the Dad and I did just twenty-nine years ago.  The past was meeting the future.  Wonder how it's all connected?  Does it mean anything?

We moved Big Sister into her apartment.  She hung a mirror on the wall by the front door.  One last glance before heading out to be sure the hair is just right before going out.  But as I caught a glance of myself taking one last load up her stairs I didn't see myself in that mirror.  I saw an older woman that looked an awful lot like my mother.

Time marches on.  Time marches on.  Trying to live in this moment.  Even though my mind is caught up in the past.  In April, all three kids were at home.  We asked the son to leave a month ago.  He is where he needs to be to decide the kind of life that he wishes to live.  Big Sister is making her way far away.  Little sister begins school one week from today.

Our full crazy house will be quiet again.  I am sad and I am glad.  Not sure how to think or feel but going to keep praying. 





 

Autumn

Yesterday's rain brought a drop in the dew point which means instant relief from the humidity here in middle Tennessee.  Between a change in the temperature and a steady stream of Facebook feed pictures of school aged children all holding signs stating the first day of school for which ever grade they happen to find themselves entering, I feel a shift in the seasons.

I have no little ones heading back to school.  But, the moving rental will come and be loaded to take my oldest daughter to Louisiana to graduate school.  Perhaps she will let me snap her picture with a sign saying, "Grad School or Bust" for me to post.

My youngest daughter will start a new semester of nursing school on the twenty-sixth.  She has only three remaining semesters.  I can easily see the beginning of her new chapter in sight.

The Son has been asked to choose the way in which he wishes to live his life.....but do it away from home.  He has been told that he can figure it out and his father and I did when we were about his age.  I hope he chooses well. 

My mother died in late October sixteen years ago.  She started her decline about this time of year.  As I sit on the porch of the morning and the evening the sounds of crickets and frogs seems to slow.  The biting humidity gives way to a cleaner, dryer air and my body remembers.

Sadness still comes sixteen years later.  An open window with the smells of dried leaves brings to mind that time when I held on tight to every bit of her that I could.  Now it is a new generation that I am releasing. 

I guess that I find my life entering it's own Autumn.  Fatigue helps me accept the new season.  Experience helps me to appreciate it.  Hope helps me to keep looking forward. 

Praying for all of us.

Pedagog

I've been volunteering at the jail for almost four years now.  My church wanted some involvement so we are starting a new program to connect newly released inmates with jobs and housing and twelve step programs.  We are also offering mentors to those who wish to have one.

I offered to mentor a young girl who was just released.  She has a child and an opiate addiction.  No housing.  No job.  No license.  No car.  No family support.  I went to some friends and asked for donations and got her first and last week paid for in a recovery house.  I got clothes and food donated.  I picked her up from jail and delivered her directly to the recovery house.  Three days later, she packed up and moved out.

At first, I was angry.  Then I started to wonder if I had the right intentions.  Did I help her for my ego?  Was I helping according to God's will or Hattie's?  But, then I thought that maybe God was giving me the opportunity to learn to love without condition.  I called a couple of folks that she might be in contact with and said, " Please tell her that if she still wants a mentor, to give me a call.  No judgment."

I may never hear from her again.  She might call.  Who knows.  "It takes what it takes" as they say in Al Anon.  Maybe God placed her in my path to help me.  I have been so arrogant to think that I could save her when maybe she is saving my relationship with my own son by teaching me that you love someone mistakes and all.  You love someone who is not doing it your way.  You love someone enough to offer support even when they are doing it on their time and their way.

I look back at how I grew up.  My parents loved me.  But, their fears affected the way that they showed love.  If they were afraid, they might hold back approval or acceptance until I changed my behavior. That is much the way that I have parented all of these years.  But, I am learning.  I am learning more from those that I would least expect to learn from.

Healing started for me when I was able to get truthful....mainly with myself about all that was wrong.  Saying out loud what the problems were took a lot.  Now I realize that we all have problems.  We all have done things that we are not proud of.  All of us carry shame and guilt.

Shame wants us to keep quiet and stay sick.  And, I am over it.  I am a mess.  I just learned a very valuable lesson from a young girl who is a drug addict with the kindest heart and broken spirit and a smile that lights up a room.  So I am opening up about this ugly pride that makes me think that I can fix her and save the world. 

Funny how God works.  She might just be saving me.  Praying for us all.

 

Examen

In the happy wagging tail of one long backed Lucy.
In the evening summer sounds of crickets and frogs.
In the sudden direction previously not seen.
In the despair at starting over.
In the prayers said by family members.

God is Present.

For healing and growth in our family.
For help when I cry out.
For strength when weary.
For a way, when none is seen.
For acceptance.
For Love.

I am grateful to God.

Fear.
Depression.
Quiet Acceptance.
Hope.

The feelings God gives me today.

Heavenly Father,

Please empty me of all that is not from you.  Fill me with strength, direction and love.  Give me the wisdom to see and hear your will for me this day and give me what I need to carry that out.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Tomorrow.

The possibilities are endless if only I listen to the desires that God has placed within me.  There is hope in tomorrow.  There is love waiting tomorrow.

This is an example of a five step Examen used in Ignatian Spirituality.  Our wonderful Pope Francis is a Jesuit (the group who follows the example of St. Ignatius).


Ignatian Spirituality is about developing a better relationship with God through converser (Prayer).  This is a helpful link on his ideas about prayer.

 

Contemplation

I turned fifty on Tuesday.  I've been thinking about this new decade with hope.  Ever since I turned forty-nine my focus has been on fifty.  You could argue that I'm not really living in the present....and be right.  But, for me I need to look back and examine so that I can look forward with clarity and possibly understand what it is that I really want out of what's left of this life.

In the early days of dealing with my son's addiction, I held on to the past (i.e. what I did and didn't do) with a death grip.  I'm not sure why.  I guess I wanted to know why he was an addict.  I figured if I knew why then I could fix it. 

I've been on a long search trying to understand.  "I've been to at least one hundred thousand Al Anon meetings", as Father Tom Weston SJ would say.  I've been to many Saturday night open AA speaker meetings.  I've taken some weekend Ignatian retreats to better understand the Spiritual Exercises.  I volunteer at the jail in the Homeward Bound program.  And, I've bought many books.  If I laid down all of the books that I've bought in the last few years and put them end to end they would extend from my home in Tennessee to........Never mind......that is probably not information that the Dad or I want to look at too closely.

I've been looking for truth.  Like the apostle Thomas, I am looking for direction.  "I am the way and the truth and the life." Jesus said in John 14 :6.  When my Son went to his second stint in rehab the counselor met with us on family weekend.  "He's really honest.  But, he's not very truthful."  He said.

What a strange thing to say. The Dad and I looked at one another puzzled.  This counselor, this recovering addict would teach us a lot about life.  I was asked to teach a class in the jail called Moral Reconation Therapy.    I didn't really want to teach the class.  I didn't even know what the word reconation meant.  The class taught me and the students to stop making decisions based on pleasure or pain and to start making decisions on moral reasoning or right and wrong. 

Truth is what is real.  Period.  Honesty, simply put, is our perception of truth.  Growing up, if you hear that you are lazy enough, it becomes what you believe about yourself.  But, is it truth? 

I write in an effort to mine for truth.  I look back at my family looking for what is real...not what I've always heard.  There is a lot of alcoholism and addiction in my family.  What does that mean?  What does that say about me?  Does that mean that my son is doomed to live his life out in active addiction?

I've learned so much.  I am really no different than the alcoholic or addict.  At the root of it all, we all feel uncomfortable with who we are or what we think that we are.  We've been listening to those voices whether from within or without telling us that we are not enough. 

Those voices that say, "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Those voices saying, "It's your fault."

Those voices that tell you to be afraid.....every waking moment of every day.

The difference between them and me......I can have a drink and think, "no I'd rather save those calories for chocolate."  They can't.  I have diabetes and when my blood sugar drops, my hands shake and I start sweating and my body aches for sugar.  I told my endocrinologist, " I think my drug of choice is sugar."  He said, "Yes, diabetes acts very much like addiction.  You get low and crave sugar.  You eat the sugar and you feel sick again and it starts over and over again.  You can't live with it and you can't live without it.

I get that analogy.  My son has a disease just as my ancestors have.  Disease is hard to live with, no matter what the disease.  Disease, regardless of the kind  affects the whole family.  But, with addiction, nobody wants to talk about it. 

I do.

I want to respect the privacy of my son.  But, I will not let fear or shame keep me sick.  I'm not ashamed of the addict or alcoholic.  I hope one day they will find their way past fear and shame. 



But, until then, I will pray. 

For them. 
For you. 
And for Henry. 



 

Happy Monday

I am thankful that the last couple of weeks have passed.  There was a undercurrent of anxiety and stress that seemed to run the show.  The biggest problem was that despite the fact that the Dad and I had come up with some very clear boundaries for the Son, the Dad suddenly needed to change them and didn't really bother to consult me.  I was furious.  Anger is my go to emotion.  It's like there is no pause available after my brain registers that I have been wronged.  There is an instantaneous explosion of anger.  Then, I get a little down and depressed.  Then I work out the emotions that I am feeling.

Eventually, after much prayer for my enemy (the Dad), I was able to see that he is in a different place than I am.  I was able to recognize that since he had not been the kind of Dad that he wanted to be early on, this is something that he needs to do now.  But, I was also able to say, "Look, I can't really watch it anymore so he needs to live in his own space."  The Dad actually thanked me for letting him do his own thing.  Seems so simple now.  But, communication has never been key in our relationship.  Hopefully that will change.

This week is supposed to be glorious.  Last week the weather was as dreary and turbulent as the mood in our home.  Today's high is around seventy-three and sunny....glorious sunshine!  I watched the movie the Joneses on Netflix.  It was really interesting.  I expected only fluff but there was something there which was a nice surprise.

Saturday the Dad and I went to see the C.S. Lewis play the Great Divorce.  It was so good.  It could easily be argued that as he fought with the idea of giving up lust that he could easily interchange that with addiction.  It was very thought provoking.  After the matinee we had dinner and went to a open speaker meeting.  The weekend ended on a good note. 

Today is my Weight Watchers weigh in after a very stressful and not so vigilant week, so we will see.  I'm still not giving up.  That is the variable that has changed this time around.  I think Al Anon has helped change my perception about failure. 

It's been a productive Monday, thus far, so I'd better head off and finish my list.  You can always count on prayers for each of you being on that list.  Hope your week is good.

Ramblings

I'm thinking of moving my blog to wordpress.  I'm not certain, but I think I need a fresh look and a fresh start.  I guess I'm having a mid (actually 2/3) life crisis/awakening......  There are just sixty-four days left till I turn FIFTY.  I can't believe it.  I don't feel fifty.  In my mind, I am still young.  Maybe I'm in my late twenties, early thirties max.  But, then I look in the mirror and holy crap, there is a middle aged woman staring back at me.  I went to my hometown this weekend for a bridal shower and  I ran into a few people that I knew from high school and they were old people.  How did this happen?

I'm going to weigh in today.  We missed last week because the meeting was cancelled for snow.  Today the temperature should reach seventy.  Welcome to middle Tennessee weather.  I'm always a little nervous about the weigh in, even though I weigh at home every twelve hours day.   I know I've passed ten pounds as two weeks ago I was at 9.4 lbs.  Just like my dad, who used to will winter away, I am willing the pounds to melt.  And, yes acceptance is something I'm still working on, thank you very much.

Lastly, I'm writing a book.  I've been thinking of doing it for three years.  At first, I wanted to write with some friends.  But, I had enough problems trying to figure out my own part, much less knowing how to coordinate it and organize it with another.  I've never really given up on it.  Maybe, it will be only for my family.  Maybe it will get published.  Whatever will be, will be.  But, these things I decided to do and follow through with in this my fiftieth year. 

I watched Oprah last night.  I watched the first episode of Lindsay (Lindsay Lohan documentary) and her interview with Russell Brandt.  I'm so glad that she (Oprah) is giving attention to the epidemic problem of addiction.  I'm really rooting for Lindsay but how many of you moms out there wanted to swoop in there and clean her hotel room and tell her that she needed to divest herself of all of that STUFF?  Maybe it's just me, but I also wanted to say, "go buy yourself a little cottage in the country or by the ocean......how can you possibly get clear in the noise of the city and with paparazzi?" 

Yes, I still go to Al Anon (regarding previous paragraphs).  But, I think I have such good ideas......Loving the sunshine today!  Hang in there my friends, spring is on it's way.  Praying for you all.
 

Coming Full Circle

I have five brothers and sisters.  And, I have twenty nieces and nephews.  And, fourteen great nieces and nephews.  We are a prolific bunch!  Yesterday I traveled an hour away to see my niece and her newest child, just five days old.  He was so tiny.  This is her fourth child and so I decided to take them dinner instead of a baby gift.  By the time you have four, two boys and two girls, you have it (baby clothes, furniture, tools)  all.  But, you don't have time. 

This niece is my oldest brother's daughter.  While growing up, he was my favorite.  He is seventeen years older than me and he took me everywhere.  He tried ( and failed) to get me into sports.  He read to me, turning me  into a voracious reader.  We lived in a tiny town in Kentucky.  There were no book stores for miles around.  But, we had a library and we lived in the country so  the bookmobile came around every two weeks.  My brother worked on the railroad so when he went to a town where there was a bookstore, he always brought me back books. 

He got married when I was in my early teens and when he and his wife had a baby, I loved hanging out at their house.  It went well for a while but then my sister-in-law's drinking became a wedge between her and every single area of her life.  It was ugly.  We became distant.  Everyone just wanted to steer clear of the insanity that is alcoholism.  I grew up, got married and moved away.  Then my own cloud of addiction entered the picture.  They say that if you don't deal with things in your life, God will continue to give you opportunities to learn from them and so I guess he did.

Yesterday was the first time that I've really talked to my niece.  Oh we've chatted, but yesterday we talked about what was/is real.  And it was such a blessing.  This little girl that I knew is now a grown woman carrying scars from addiction but surviving it.  She is a loving mother, good wife and so diligent in providing for her children, what she did not have.  I am so impressed.  But, I want her to learn to take care of herself and to model that for her children. 

I want to get to know her again.  I want to get to know the others.  Addiction is the big elephant in the family room of my big extended family.  If we all gathered at the same time, we could form our own Al Anon group and probably an AA group as well.  I just think it's time we started to talk to each other. 

In other news, it is the second day of lent and the time changes this weekend.  I can't believe it's spring forward time again.  It's been so  cold that it doesn't seem like it can be that time, already.  Weight Watchers was cancelled due to weather which bummed me out because tracking both food and weight really help me. 

Big Sister got an invitation to interview for a position in a PhD program in Louisiana.  We are going down next weekend for a tour and a day of events followed by her interview.  I think she was shocked by the invitation.  She only expected to be accepted into masters programs. 

The Son is working for his Dad until he gets a new job.  I have a lot of concerns about that.  I really want to be careful that we aren't enabling.  We did need an employee and he had just quit a job but it can be a slippery slope.  Praying you guys.

 

Look Back but Don't Stare......

Sparkling sunshine and sixty-three degrees are responsible for the spring in my step today.  I can't get that "Happy" song by Pharrell Williams out of my head either.  I think that  has to do with getting on the scales this morning.  I seem to have a pattern.  I will be at a certain weight ( number) and then it will go down a number and the next day back up again for a few days and then down until it settles there.  This morning I skipped a whole number!  I've been going to Weight Watchers for four weeks....actually five but four weeks of weigh-ins and I've only lost 7.2 lbs.  I know it is respectable but skipping a whole number is pretty cool when it's been slow progress.

The Son had been doing really well until the weekend and we saw a slip.  Granted, he has never given up alcohol altogether so it was/is inevitable.  But, it brings you back to those old fear and worry places.  The Dad is having a particularly tough time with the anxiety it brings.  It's hard to detach from worry when he is worrying so.  I need to distance myself from it and he wears it all over his face.  I guess we are both at different places in our journey.

Big Sister is having panic attacks over finances.  She is now financially independent, at least until she goes to grad school in the fall.  She is about to begin some research with a professor from her undergrad program and she has to spend money to register the research.  She has application fees for grad schools, she has to be a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding.........It seems unending sometimes.

Some of my "birdies" from the Homeward Bound program are out and taking steps to life outside.  They are a little like my scales...up and down until they settle one way or another.  They help me learn to manage expectation.  I catch myself getting tied up in their progress.  The new class is really going well.  Each class seems to carry it's own tone.  This class is an eager one for healthy change.  Investing yourself into the cause of addiction is very difficult when you aren't that great with slow change.  I guess God is teaching me patience. 

Hoping you are all doing well.  Oh, the title came from my Al Anon meeting last night.  I loved it.  Praying for all of you.

 

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.