Tag Archives: thoughts

Oct30

Kicking and Screaming Sobriety

Posted on by
Standard
Kicking and Screaming Sobriety

Kicking and screaming sobriety, that’s what this is. I normally end relationships that are this difficult. If I have to work this hard to make you stay, we’re probably better off going in our separate directions, know what I mean?

I wrestle with my personality when I’m sober. I have expectations of myself that are harder to meet if I’m not slightly…well, enhanced. This happened the last time I stopped drinking, too. I forgot, for a while, how to interact socially. I forgot who I was. I thought that I wasn’t as interesting, as entertaining, as enjoyable to spend time with, in my sober state.

I adjusted, eventually, but it took time and I was in an entirely different set of circumstances then. Without offering an opinion as to whether one is better than the other, I will say that making the social adjustments that come with sobriety is a much different experience inside of the church than it is out.

I should remind myself that I made most of these friends, entered into most of these relationships in my life, while I was sober two years ago. They know who I am.

Last night I went to catch up at the local watering hole after my shift at the mini-mart. I arrived close to midnight and met a room packed full of costumed revelers. What is it about holidays that make us want to drink so much? I couldn’t help but wonder as I looked around and watched my friends enjoy themselves, what would I be doing if I was on my third or fourth beer. Dancing upstairs to the punk rock band? Leaning in to share a laughing story with a group of girls? Kissing my boyfriend? I felt on the outside looking in.

It’s important to remember to ask myself what I would have been doing after my sixth or seventh dark beer, or, later, after I’d switched to wine and was powering my way through a bottle. Saying something insulting to my sister? Fighting with my boyfriend? Driving my car home through the snow? It’s hard to say. I wouldn’t have remembered anyway. Because that’s how I drink. And that’s why, even when my life wasn’t falling apart and rehab imminent, I stopped drinking again.

I like my sober life much better than my partying life. I like having productive mornings, a clean house and healthy relationships. I like having memories.

It’s hard right now, to not run and hide from the stress of everyday life, especially an everyday life under attack. My best offense is usually a hasty retreat. It’s hard right now, but it’s worth it.

It’s a new season, a new winter. This time, though, it’s going to be different.

This time I’m going to make winter my bitch.

Oct29

Me & the Mrs.

Posted on by
Standard
Me & the Mrs.

If there has ever truly been a time when there was a tug of war between my self-control and my desire to be completely obliterated it is now. I cannot remember another point when my emotions and my desire to drink were so completely connected before, and I was so aware of it. I can understand now why people actually do fail. Thank God my life isn’t always like this.

My boss is being pressured by the executive committee to fire me. The rent is due, my car needs brakes and winter tires, my propane tank is closer to empty than not, and my boss might have to fire me. I’ve finally managed to turn my credit around, to establish a sense of stability and grounding and my boss might fire me. After a year and a half off the wagon, I just hopped back on two months ago and I might get fired.

Oh yeah, I want a drink. A bottle of red wine to be precise. Two.

My sister announced the other day that she “might want to, but doesn’t have to”. She’s right, I’m drinking water. Her statement was followed with “I’m free!” I’m undecided.

Through an unusual set of circumstances, my boss was told that I have a warrant for my arrest in the city of Dallas for a DUI that happened in 2006, and that I would be resolving the situation in February. The executive committee said to fire me.

In all fairness, it’s not that I love my job. Most days, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s not where I want to be and it’s not what I want to be doing. Still, I like the pay and I love the health insurance. I like bringing my dog to work and walking around in my socks. I like feeling stable.

I don’t like feeling that even when I’m doing everything “right”, I still can’t outlive my past and the person I used to be. I don’t like having that feeling I used to have right before everything fell to the ground again. I have to wonder when I will be through with the mistakes I made in Dallas, and if I’m just going to keep making mistakes?

The internal optimist cheerily asserts that this might be a blessing in disguise, with a bit of free time and focus I can find a job doing something I’m more suited to, that I’ll be happier at. I remind her that there are very few jobs available in this economically depressed area, and even fewer good jobs that don’t require degrees and that I don’t have a savings account.. She’s certain things will work out and points out good-naturedly that at least I have a job at the mini-mart. I remind her that I hate that job. She, growing tired of my arguments, insists that things are going to be fine, that they always are, and that I should really just cheer up. I roll my eyes and tell her, in no uncertain terms, that the American dream is a myth, that if my life is going to fall to pieces anyway, I might as well be high and that, at least then, I knew why my life was falling to pieces. She sighs, and we drink another glass of water.

I’m undecided. So is my boss apparently. He told the executive committee that he had to “process this”.

In the meantime, I’ve got to go spend some of this Saturday at the office to beat a few deadlines. After that I’ve got a shift at the Sunoco. She wants me to point out that the fire is warm and I’ve got enough wood for the winter. I don’t feel like that’s relevant.

She wins every time.

Sep17

Hold the advice, please.

Posted on by
Standard
Hold the advice, please.

I’ve been wondering lately why we give advice to people? When asking ‘why’, I mean to say, what is the motivation for one person to offer a word of advice to another person? Call me a cynic, but I think that most people are, most of the time, pretty focused on themselves and their own agenda.

I don’t say this as a bad thing. I think that it only makes sense, if I concede to the idea that only I am responsible for my happiness and that only I can make for myself the future that I want, to allow for the subsequent idea which says that I must, then, be focused on whether I am happy and work to be certain that I am doing the work of moving my present towards my desired future.

Which brings me back to my original question – why do we give each other advice and, more importantly, why do we accept advice from each other?

Following the idea that only I can make me happy, and the subsequent idea that I must shape my future to insure my happiness, wouldn’t it make sense that I would offer advice to those around me (those other influences that may somehow leave their own mark on my future) that would lead them to behave in a way that positively affects my own future?

Is advice, then, an accepted practice of allowing me to manipulate your actions to benefit my future?

I started thinking about this a few days ago when offering advice to a friend conflicted over the possibility of a new relationship in her life. From what she’d shared with me, I was all for her giving things a go, and every time we talked about it I was sure to tell her so and offer some advice on how to best go about getting the guy. At one point my friend relayed to me the advice she had gotten from another friend. This friend apparently had a different opinion than mine and offered completely different advice.

While I didn’t share this with my friend, of course, I was a bit irritated by this other friend and different advice. “He’s going to ruin everything for her,” I thought. “What’s his agenda anyway?!”

My inner spirit heard my own thoughts and was surprised. Well. What was my agenda? Why was I feeling threatened by advice different than my own? Was I really offering my friend advice that was in her best interest, or was I somehow looking out for my own interests, too?

I didn’t like my new line of thinking and so I offered to her the best objective piece of advice I could think of.

“Stop asking other people’s advice, or accepting it, and use your intuition.”

Safe now from giving advice, even accidentally, not in my friend’s best interest, I could think a bit more, which is what has brought me here.

I don’t know that I was offering this friend advice out of some agenda, hidden, possibly, even from myself. I don’t know that her other friend was somehow trying to steer her decision making in his favor. Were we both speaking out of our individual life experience, each knowing separate facets of her, offering two different perspectives on what was genuine interest and concern for her future happiness? Or did our separate relationships with her actually mean we had different requirements of her, thus changing the nature of our advice to her?

If I am shaping my future, am I not, somehow, in some small way, even accidentally, also shaping yours? If I accept and implement your advice to me, is it possible I am allowing myself to be shaped for your future?

Is it really all about me? About you?

What if I don’t concede to the idea that makes all of this possible? What if I am not solely responsible for my happiness and designer of my future?

What then becomes truth?

Apr12

Chasing Life

Posted on by
Standard
Chasing Life

I guess I’m supposed to feel far from God right now. At least, the worried glances of my concerned church family and the continued reassurance that “no matter what, God loves” me have me wondering if they know something I don’t know.

Because I don’t feel far from God at all. Sitting here, alone, in the quiet of my new middle-of-no-where apartment, with hands a bit dirty from handling wood for the fire, rain boots muddy from stamping down tire ruts, and a steaming plate of kale stir fry, I feel anything but far from God. I feel like I am precisely where God expected me to be in this moment, on this day. I feel like He’s right here with me, in every new and awakening moment of rustic life lived independently, I feel Him in every contented breath.

I feel far from people. Not all people, of course. In every experience of growth and change, or even in the failures and the falls, there are always people who surprise you with their grace and with the authenticity of their love. There are always people, however, who surprise you in another way completely. I feel far from those people. I feel far from the church, not the people who comprise her, but from the mammoth statue of tradition that “church” implies.

I feel adrift somewhat, though by choice and not chance. I feel as though I’ve kayaked out to sea and have turned to gaze back upon where I was. It’s a moment of decision. Is that really where I want to be? Is that girl who was living on that island really who I am meant to be? It’s surprising how ugly the view is from out here, blemishes not easily picked up upon when you’re in the middle of it all. I guess that makes them too large to see up close. I’m grateful for my vantage point.

I don’t feel far from my destiny, but I do feel the disappointment of people who feel like I am. The murmurings of “we had such hope for her”, “she could have done so much”, “such a waste of talent”. At first I was tempted to agree. Surely I was on the right track to accomplishing great things for God. I’d made the right choices, signed on to the right projects, presented in the right way, I was a shoe in. Only problem was, I was the one making the decisions, choosing the projects, tweaking presentation. I was so busy chasing “my destiny” that I forgot to chase God. I forgot how to chase God.

I respect a people who believe in prophesy. I respect a church who invites a prophet to their pulpit. I’ve lost respect, however, for prophesy chasing. It’s too easy to lose sight of what’s important. A huge prophetic word can change a person in the eyes of the church, and suddenly everyone is on board to get this person with the ‘big calling’ where it is they need to be. The battle cry begins, “we are fighting for your destiny!”

It all feels good for a time.

Except that I am a person and not a destiny. Except that while we’re all busy ushering me toward my destiny, my life is suddenly on a different track than it might have been, than it might be supposed to be. “I’m supposed to preach so I’ll work on my public speaking skills.” “You should read this book about prophetic singing, it’ll teach you what you need to know.”

I don’t want to chase my destiny. I don’t want to spend my life following a (or every) prophetic word. It’s not that I’m unwilling or disinterested, it’s just that, well, it’s my destiny, right? I imagine just living life is what’s going to get me there. Chasing destiny burnt me out. Living life brings me peace. Besides, a prophet can be wrong. Even more so, a prophet can be misunderstood.

It was said over me once that I would be famous, and “not known about your town kind of famous but known around the world kind of famous”. Oh, now there’s a prophesy worth chasing, right?

Except Anne Frank is famous. Just a girl, living her life, without any idea she was someday going to change the lives of others. World famous.

I’m so grateful for my peace. At whatever cost it comes.

Oct1

the beauty of sadness

Posted on by
Standard
the beauty of sadness

I am sad today. Today I think somber thoughts and feel tangibly the veil of sorrow settle over me. It’s odd, though, the way this particular sadness feels. It’s a gentle weight, almost a comfort. It’s feels familiar, like a hug from a dear friend when you’ve been fighting to maintain your smile and you suddenly know, in the comfort of that hug, that you’re safe for that moment just to be sad.

I’ve had a revelation of emotion as I ponder today’s sadness: it is sometimes okay, and sometimes even good, to be sad. I don’t need to fight my way through or coach myself with optimism. I don’t need to reach out for comfort in hopes of pushing this feeling away. I needn’t feel guilty or ashamed or worried about whether or not I will still be sad tomorrow. This is one of those “sometimes” when the gentle weight of sadness is good. I have reason to be sad, therefore it is wise to allow myself to be so. I am not depressed, I am not weak, I am not lacking in faith or losing my trust in God. I am sad. An emotion, no doubt, that He created in us to release the pressure of sorrowful happenings.

I am liberated today in my sadness. I remember where to turn and who to dwell quietly with as I allow my emotions to mourn. I sit still and think the thoughts that must be thought and allow myself to truly feel what has taken place and what will need to be changed.

In today’s sadness I am empowered, I prepare for a new dawn. Quietly, without fanfare, I say goodbye to something that was, acknowledging it for when it was beautiful and remembering why it began. There is strength in my sadness today. By allowing it, by accepting it, I also accept that the thing that was, is, in fact, no more. My sadness today makes a statement that I am going to change. It is proof that I am accepting what is next and releasing what was before.

I am grateful for this emotion, even as it lingers, because of what it means for tomorrow. I am thankful that I have healed in my journey to the place where I can feel this subtly sweet sorrow without the balm of one of many addictions, past or present.

Just as this sadness speaks life to my future, it breathes healing to my past.

It’s all enough to smile about, but, not just yet. I’ve a little more to remember first, a little more to let go. I’m going to be okay with being sad just a little bit longer. Because, sometimes, it really is okay.

Aug16

desperately seeking silence!

Posted on by
Standard
desperately seeking silence!

Don’t act like it isn’t sometimes too much for you, too. I’m so tired of disingenuity. If you’re alive; if you’re breathing and you’re caring then it’s sometimes too much for you, too! I mean, don’t you ever just want your head to Shut. The. Eff. Up. Already?! Tick tock tick tock. Like heaven forbid some half formed idea go unexamined. What is my brain telling my own damn self that I don’t already know anyway? And how many more times can I think through the same tired thoughts, on the same worn out circle before I realize (again) that, oh yeah, I don’t know the answer.

I mean, I come here to write about something, about one thing that my mind is replaying over and over, to share it and highlight this journey of mine like I promised, and then my brain goes nuts, absolute bananas, lightbulbs flashing everywhere. I’m so damned indecisive I can’t even decide what thought process to focus on long enough to write it down. I could start taking requests. What kind of b.s. are you in the mood for today? God is so good? God is so hard? I love life, I hate living, I’m lonely, I admire my independence? Ministry is the greatest blessing I’ve ever been given? The ‘call’ is God’s great curse on the desire to live a ‘normal life’? I like men, I like women, I like sobriety, I wanna do a line, I hate my body, I love my curves, I love Vermont, I crave the concrete, kumbaya and hard f’n rock… Dude.

Don’t tell me your head doesn’t do it, too. And it’s so unbelievable ridiculous the way we smile and nod and act all in the very center of control. Have you ever thought about how ridiculous we really are? I mean… really? Why are we trying to look so in control all the time anyway? What the hell was the last thing you were ever actually in control of? Yeah. Nothin’. Just. Say. It. You got nothin’.

Doesn’t that feel better?

The truth is so annoying when I’m all wrapped up in my head like this. Seriously. It’s so annoying I don’t even want to type it. I can feel my lip curling as I think about it. Because when does it stop, when does it all just go away??

When we surrender.

I warned you. Ugh, annoying. Trite platitudes designed to keep you down, rob you of your freedom and enslave your precious independence. Well… except that it’s not. Except that it’s absolutely true that the only time I’ve ever felt free from the nauseating-endless-nonstop-rollercoaster-vegas-lightbulb-flashing mindtrap of mine is when my heart and spirit were in a place of complete surrender to God, where His will was the only way and nothing else mattered.

And I’m not there right now. I’m no where close to that kind of anxiety-free, easy street kinda livin’ right now. And I’m pissed about it. I’m pissed because I worked damn hard to get there the first time, got myself out of a lot of bad entanglements, relationships and mindsets to be able to relax with that kind of surrendered freedom. And then what’d I do? One by one my pretties, one by one.

Annoying.

What’s annoying exactly? That I’m going to have to go back through some of that stuff to get there again. What? You didn’t seriously think I was going to hang out in here in ‘every man for himself land’ did ya’? This endless brain conversation that keeps me up nights and gets me up in the morning can kiss my UV-ray colored derriere thank you very much! One doesn’t taste of the promise land and decide that the ghetto actually suited them better, trust me.

So here’s the thing. Stop acting like you don’t do it too. Stop plastering on that so-fake-even-God-is-pissed smile for everyone. Just fix it. Jump the hoops, cut the ties, wave goodbye and get it done.

Surrender dude. It’s the only way up.