Bush is evil and most people don't care...

Sorry for the delay in posting, globetrotters, but I've been reevaluating my life, which is a good thing. I have haikus to share and also some ranting, but that's OK. I have no fear or worry about being put on any list, like many people I know, because I am already on those lists anyway.
Here's the rant---

I was at the gym this morning and noticed that the six TV's on the wall were all showing some kind of news/entertainment show. Either CNN, ESPN, MSNBC, or something else. It was almost all fluff, and if they did air a relevant and somewhat important story, the next piece was invariably something distracting, either dire and horrible or cute and fuzzy. This is 'bread and circuses', a well known technique used to distract the masses from what is really going on in the country. If 50% of the people are busy watching the terrorist trial in D.C., or cheering George Mason University, or shaking their collective heads at the foreigness of other cultures, then this 50% are not paying attention to the ruination of this country by George W. Bush, his cronies, and their lapdogs. To be fat, happy, and distracted is all that most people want in life. A big-screen TV, swimmin' pools, and movie stars, a few episodes of COPS, and the death sentence of a crazed religious fanatic.

Aside from a huge technological leap, nothing has changed in over 2500 years. The greedy pigs are still in it for the money and real estate, and they are willing to lie and feel superior in doing so. Money sucks. It's dirty and corrupt, and gives birth to all the demonic forces that have plaqued the world.

Here are the haiku...

#25.
Bread and circuses
kept the Roman populace
fat, happy, and dumb.

#26.
Money causes grief
yet puts clothes on our backs
and food on our plate.

#27.
Farmers grow the food,
tailors sew the warm clothing,
money causes pain.


Johnnyboy

Homework, laziness, playtime, and changes...

After a week resting on my laurels, I dig in to the pile of reading due on Monday for my Meso-American Studies class. I'll get that done easily enough and then work on the backlog of philosophical work I need to resolve. I read for about 3 hours today, and will do the same tomorrow and Sunday. I'll start on the other stuff Monday. No worries.

The past week was spent playing around with model airplanes and going to some incredible AA meetings. I am so grateful to be sober, serene sometimes, and usually happy, joyous, and free. Because of this sobrity thing I am able to address life-threatening health issues with sense and aplomb, changing my eating habits, adjusting my excersize routine, and generally not being afraid of that change.

Haikus on Tuesday---a double batch, I promise!

I have been missed at my homegroup in the past 2 weeks, and this morning I was telephoned by one of the members, a fellow that I respect very much if only for his cool and level head. He was relieved to find out about my speaking commitment this week and my visit with my father the week before. I asked him what was going on and he told me about a very long business meeting that I also missed. It seems that some folks are becoming unhappy about newcomers, especially folks from rehabs, sharing about the 'mess' and not the 'message'. This is an old saw, and not one to get hung up about, or leave on account of. We talked for a while and both of us agreed that newcomers have nothing else to share about except the mess. Even in my own story, I am only now slowly moving away from a drunkalogue as I build a sober history of recovery with which to reference. This fellow agreed that it is a natural occurance for newcomers to share this way, and also for some folks to become 'bleeding deacons' about it. This will take months to resolve, and in that time, if folks do what they are supposed to do* , more will be revealed, resentments will dissolve, and the group will remain the strong and vibrant group I love. The last thing the group needs is people jumping ship, depriving those who need their kindness, calm, and wisdom a chance to ask them for help. In the words of Ben Franklin, "We must all hang together, or surely we'll all hang seperately." This kind of 'group shake-up' is also nothing new to the rooms, and is always greeted with this kind of chatter. It's healthy. It's good for everyone. Breathe deeply and remember that everything is exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.



Johnnyboy

*Don't drink, go to meetings, talk to your sponsor, practice acceptance, read some AA lit.

Late again, and no haiku...

I'll get the haiku up tomorrow, never fear.

I have to make this quick, because I have to go to my shrink for my sesion in a few minutes.

I spoke last night at a nearby meeting and it went very well. I have no idea what I said which is usually a pretty good indication of my message. The theme seemed to be 'honesty' which is as good as it gets for me.

My sponsee is still not addressing his hygiene problem. Like many people who are MICA he has a weird fear/aversion to water and soap. Not much I can do, but perhaps others can help me. I might have to lie and say that when I was getting sober I had to relearn everything about hygiene, and wash more thoroughly than I used to.

I received my results from my blood test as a part of my physical last week. My chlolesterol is fine, as is my bp, hr, and other fluids. My triglyceride level, however, is out the roof. It should be around 100, or less, and is at a whopping 624! If my bp weren't good, I'd have had several heart attacks already and would probably be dead. For those who don't know, the triglycerides are the molecules in the blood that grab hold of fat cells, whisk them along to the liver and other organs to be processed, or pass them out. They are not doing their job. My doc thought that this was genetic, but there is no history in my family, which is good news. This means that I can address this with diet, exercise, and medication, namely Tricor, which I have been taking for 4 days now. This is supposed to lower the tri, raise the HDL and set me back on course.

My sister in Maine wondered how much of this was caused by my alcoholic history, and I wonder how much was caused by eating three-meals-a-day of high saturated fat, carbs, and junk food for 19 months, i.e. jail. Probably a combination of the two.

So it's no more animal fats for Johnnyboy (that's cheese, Grommit), and lowlowlow chlolesterol. This is where I'm thankful and grateful that I'm a chef, and know how to cook. I do not have to live out of packaged foodstuffs.

Another friend said that sincethe tris are not doing their jobs, which is burning fat, I would never be able to lose any weight if this problem had not been addressed. Interesting. Maybe I'll be svelte by June!


Johnnyboy

Miracles do happen, I think...

I should have posted this sooner, as in Saturday, but I became distracted.

Remember that guy I wrote about on Friday night, who seemed lost in the woods? Well, he stopped by on Saturday to pick up the $$$, and I must say, looked 100% better and different than the last time we'd met. He'd gained about 50 pounds, was clear of eye and thought, looked you in the eye when he spoke, didn't sit there and grind his teeth and jaw, and was very thankful for the meeting list, saying, "Thanks a lot, I haven't picked up the new one yet!". He then went on the say that he had a year clean and sober, living in a nearby flophouse/motel and working across the line in another state, at a plastics factory. Miracles do happen, if only we wait for them. I think, however, he is still very much the 'horse-thief' of days gone by: I asked if he was going to meetings and he said he was going to a meeting that I have been attending religiously for over a year. I haven't seen him, and it's not a big group, so he can't hide. He doesn't have a sponsor (this will not be me, btw) and was in a treatment center north of here for a spell. So, we'll see. It takes a while to get out of the woods after having wandered in the brush for so long. I get the feeling that he'll pay back the loan, though. It was just a vibe I felt. He's OK, but is unsure about where to go. Maybe the meeting list will help him out. I'll make an amends to the blog-o-sphere for taking his inventory in my previous post.

So that's it, really. I spent the last 2 days goofing off, making a model for a small contest, and I'm pretty focused on that right now. I'll finish it up today and get right back to Kant, Meso-American studies, and Cultural Lit. No class today, so I'm being lazy, although I did manage to clean my bedroom, office, foyer, and wash a load of laundry, all before 11:30am...


Johnnyboy

Sad Souls, adrift in the Night....

Last night I came home from the Step meeting, took to garbage out, and came back inside. At that moment the phone rang. It was quarter-to-ten on a Friday night, usually a down time for the phone. I picked it up, expecting to speak to someone from the rooms, and my mother picked up the phone in her room. What I heard worried me, "Hello, P-----, (my mother) this is David M------." I hung up the phone. A few minutes later mom informed me that David needed money for a place to stay, so she was going to lend him $30 bucks. I warned her against it, but her generosity and philanthropy for those in pain is her business, not mine. I told her, though, that I would be the one to give David the money, and that I would also give him a schedule book for the AA meetings in my state. Now, some background...

David and I are the same age physically. We have known each other since we were children and lived quite nearby. We were fine until about age 8, when David stopped growing mentally. He has never really progressed much beyond that point and dropped out of high school at a young age. We grew apart. David discovered drugs, alcohol, and particularly cocaine, early on, and naturally gravitated towards crack. There is a largish city/town nearby which is also a crack oasis, and so this where he moved. He has been in and out of jails and institutions for 20 years or so, never getting clean and sober. I sometimes think it's because of his mental retardation, and yet it says in "How It Works", regarding "grave emotional and mental disorders"--"many of them do recover if they have the capacity to be honest." That's David. He is a sad and aimless soul, unable to work, unable to be honest, and probably just 'unable'. So I know tha last thing to do for him is to lend him money, and what else would a crackhead want with $30 bucks at 10PM on a Friday night? How about a 20-piece, a 12-pack, and a pack of smokes?

He said he'd show up in "10 minutes". So I waited, and waited, and waited. If there is one thing I know about this guy, he would not turn down a chance at some free money. Nevertheless, he didn't show up. I think that my voice on the phone, when I said 'hello' spooked him and he decided against the visit. Perhaps he was pulled over by the cops, which would be a blessing for him. There are many options and scenarios.

My mother has made a decision to just hang up the phone if he calls again. This is wise. It is not worth compromising her safety for a visit from an insane person. For me, on the other hand, I would have liked to have given him that meeting list. Maybe he would have used it.

All of this reminds me of how grateful I am for my lot in life, even the bad stuff that I have survived. It's just by chance that I am who and where I am. What a relief.


Johnnyboy

Haiku Tuesday on Thursday...

Einstein posited that time was relative. He was right, and the proof is that today is Thursday and I am posting the haiku from Tuesdat today. Where did they go, you ask? They didn't go anywhere, but were right here, on my desk, all along, in another time/space continuum.

Jabberjabberjabber. All excuses. I was lazy, too busy, or something, to post them, but I do agree with Albert anyway.

I received another great grade for a paper--'A-' for my Descartes/Locke comparison. So far so good, and my Lit prof likes my third peice as well, although I haven't received a grade for that one yet.

I visited with my father last night in a nearby town famous for its horse racing and recuperative waters. He is staying for a week at a nearby artist's retreat for a little r&r from school, etc...It was wonderful to see him, although the conversation eventually turned to the subject of my sister and the distance that has grown between them. It is really very sad, and I have spoken of it before, so I won't go into it too much. It is enough to know that we all love her, himself included, and we want nothing more than to understand why she is so closed off to this love. On top of that she is denying him access to his grand-daughter by this chasm of pain she has constructed. This is not healthy for anyone and hurts the innocent the most. But we all love her and our hands are always outstretched. Someday perhaps she can be with us in love and communication and not dwell on the shifty memories she has constructed to further the anger on which she feeds.


Here are the haiku...

#22.
dangerous places
the soul's geography
uncharted, unknown.

#23.
head up in the clouds
feet drifting above the ground
unanchored, astray.

#24.
watching the parade--
humanity walks past the window
of the coffeeshop.


Johnnyboy

Grateful, grounded, and available...

I heard once that the most beautiful thing about the human heart is its ability to break. In those moments of sadness due to the loss of a loved one or a cherished family pet, our broken hearts fill with the gratitude of having experienced the love, closeness, joy, and of having known them for that brief time.

Of course, the broken hearts that litter the world due to unrequited or unreturned love are just a reminder of our own gentleness and search for compassion in a tough existence.

It's all good. Although it can feel like a senseless waste at the time, perhaps we can see through the fog of pain to the truth: that we have loved honestly and with our hearts.

My head has come down from the clouds of the past few weeks. My feet are back on the earth where they belong, instead of drifting a few inches above the ground.

Tomorrow is my mother's 82nd birthday, and for a gift I have left a card on the breakfast table for her when she wakes up early tomorrow morning. Tonight in class the teacher handed back one of my papers, one that I was sure flopped hard. It's an 'A'. I left that for her to see as well, not to toot my own horn, but to let her know that I'm doing alright. It's only because of her that I can even go to school.

I cherish these moments and days with her in ways that are hard to describe. I hug her small body at times, just to let her know how I feel. I kiss her on the forehead when I leave the house for any length of time, and remind her that I'll be home soon. I write my schedule on her calendar so she knows what's going on with her son. There is nothing more fulfilling for me than to cook her dinner, or help her with an errand. How often did she do that for me, when I was a child and a drunken adult, and I never wondered or asked her why? I want nothing in return for this, and there is nothing that could begin to compare to the experience I am having. This warmth that I feel, and this worry, this pain...This is love. When I think I can put my thoughts into words I end up smiling, shrugging my shoulders, and giving a great sigh of gratitude for this journey I am on.

I have never seen such a huge place in which to store our lives as in the small chambers of the human heart.


Johnnyboy

So much has been happening...

And that's about the long and short of it. Between all the great emotional ups and downs I've gone through in the past 2 weeks, plus school, plus family emotions, plus, plus, plus, it's a wonder I can think at all!

I managed to finish my reading for school tomorrow. It took me a couple of days, but it's done. I'm off to a meeting tonight, which always does me good.

Those dreams (only dreams, as Aravis reminded me...)) shook me up, but last night I slept alright, although I woke up with a headache and a stiff neck. Probably stress of some sort.

So thank you, all, for your words of wisdom, commiseration, and so forth.

Going uphill is not always a smooth journey.

I know that there were some really sage and witty offerings bouncing around in my head today, but for the life of me, I can't find them.

Johnnyboy

Feeling strange and angry...

This week has been a washout in some respects. The upside is that I spent some time with my sister and BiL. The downside is that because of all of the changes in schedules for lunch, dinner, etc,...I have not been able to get any work done for school. So the pile that I started with on Monday has not shrunk and looms even more menacingly on my desk. I have no choice but to dive in. I get done what I can and live with it, I guess.

I hate being behind like this. I do not like to scramble, worry, or fret over what needs to be accomplished by such-and-such a date. I fear I am falling into a trap of procrastination and avoidance.

I also had some disturbing dreams last night, so that's two nights in a row. I dreamed that I had no choice but to go back to the food business. The reason was never explained, but along with this situation came a host of bad habits, namely cocaine and alcohol. I was buying drugs from the same connections and hiding in my apartment with little bindles of powders and bottles of vodka. This was all very screwed up and I think I'm still freaked out about it. I guess I'll go back to Step 1.

So I am angry as a result of all of this stuff going on/not happening.


Johnnyboy

Dreams, notebooks, haircuts, and The Sopranos...

I dreamed last night that I was with an ex-girlfriend. There was a level of eroticism in her body-softness and the flirtatiousness of her attitude, but that was countered by her sharp tongue. It is one of my memories of her, unfortunately. She was one of those people who really knew how to revel in her schadenfraude, particularly in making fun of intellectuals or people with artistic sensibilities. I realize now that she was a bitter woman in some ways. But this was a dream, and in dreams there is no one there but myself. So what am I bitter about?

After a month and a half since my last haircut, I went to the local place and had the deed done. As a man whose hair is rapidly decreasing, I like to keep my haircuts tight, neat, and frequent, every month if I can. What hair I do have grows quickly, so I need to keep it in check. I have been cutting my hair the same way for 3 years now. It's a razor trim, #1 on the sides, and #2 on top. It's short, neat, and hassle free in the morning when I wake up. My mother, on the other hand, has this odd delusional problem with some old memory of me when I had hair, or thinks that it will be curly if I grow it out, or something. The upshot is that she looks at me with sadness, tsk-tsking me, and saying crap like, "Your poor head", and "I don't have to look at your head, I guess." She thinks she is being funny, and if I were to confront her addled sensibilities on this matter, she would break down and claim to be trying to make a joke, which would then make me feel guilty for standing up for myself. This is her MO. As Freud said, however, "There is no joke." I am bitter because, once again, I am being told by someone I love that I am foolish, ugly, and incapable of making even the simplest of decisions, i.e., I am not an adult.

I'm sure I'll get some flak from writing these anonymous comments from a family member who is probably snooping through my life, but so what?

...And another thing...

I called the local cable company to sign up for HBO so I could watch the last season of the Sopranos this spring. After walking through a swamp of tele-prompting instructions, I finally accessed a human, who, after going through all the crap of ID and authorization, told me that some number didn't match up and that I would have to drive to the local Charter Communications center (45 minutes away) and show a photo ID, etc...I told the woman that she was insane, said 'thank you', and hung up the phone. This kind of hassle is not worth my time, especially since I do not watch TV anyway. In fact, the first time I watched TV in about 4 years was the Oscars the other night, and I was appalled at the commercials and so on. What an idiot box.

So the upshot is that I have saved money on a service that I would only use until late July, and not be around to see for all of May anyway. I'll wait for the DVD's to come out next year.

There is good news in all of this flotsam and jetsam, and that is that I have found my notebook with the haiku I wrote in Vermont last weekend. Oddly enough, I had never lost it in the first place, but rather written the new stuff in a remote section of the book itself and just not looked carefully. I can be a klutz in many ways. This is just one way to do it. So, here are Tuesday's haiku, on Friday. One of them I wrote this morning, and is a bitter and sad haiku.

#19.
snow falling slowly
groups gather, people speaking
early calm silence.

#20.
crimson window frames
gaze upon the Vermont snow
recently fallen.

#21.
arguing in dreams,
she mocks me as she used to,
regardless of pain.


Johnnyboy

Unmindfulness at work...

By this title I do not mean 'at my job' but rather the other menaing. Her are 2 examples of my mind being elsewhere.

1. My little notebook that I brought with me to Karme Choling, in hich I wrote the three haiku for yesteday's post is MIA. It's not in the bag I brought, nor is it in my car. This mean it is probably still at KCL in Vermont. I've called them and they have told me that they'll check the L 'n' F and send it to me if it is indeed there. I think that I left it in the dining hall one day before lunch and forgot about it in my enthusiasm to breathe. Not a mindful moment.

2. Yesterday I chose to go to the VW garage nearby instead of NYC like I had planned. My car needed some work so I decided to take care of these matters before persuing frivolous activities. I dropped the car off and walked to the nearby bank to use the ATM so I could have some coffee at Barnes and Noble, read, kill time, etc...I took the money and receipt but forgot to take my card back. I went on my oblivious, liesurely, way only to discover the missing plastic when I tried to buy the new Kate Bush album. So I went back to the bank, and yes, they did have the card. Unfortunately they would not give it back to me. Bank policy states that the card must now be destroyed. No amount of ID would get it back for me. I felt like gunning down every goddamned person in the room, but I also realized that it wasn't their fault, it was mine. So I let it go, and I was much better.

So I went through the painless procedure of ordering a new card, which I will receive in a week or so.

What a pain in the ass I can be to myself! This means I have to go to the bank and use a check or slip to get money when I need it. I am unused to doing this. I'll be OK, though, as long as I am mindful of when I need to have dough for gas and so on.

What I really want is my notebook. Those were good haiku...



Johnnyboy

What a great weekend...

What an amazing weekend! I just came back from the Karme Choling meditation center in Barnet, VT. I'd like to say that my head was turned around, upside down, etc...Bu that's not what the weekend was about. For those who don't know, they teach 'Shambala' training ther, which is the way of the Warrior. It's not a matter of being fierce, but rather to have the courage and bravery of a warrior in order to face yourself and all that you are, and realize that this is the body and mind with which to reestablish an enlightened state. It is so simple, that it seems too simple. As a novice, I know that more difficult paths lie ahead, but only if I make them difficult. I am learning how to be mindful (thanks Rex, you sly blogger...), and to breathe. The point is not to empty your mind, but rather to allow the thought to arise, notice them, and come back to the outbreath and let the thought go. Bill Brauer referred to this as 'touch and go'. Say hello/goodbye to your thoughts and breathe, coming back to the outbreath. That allows the confused mind to clear. He used a metaphor of a glass of water and a pinch of dirt dropped into it. It becomes muddied, and the confused mind stirs it up, or uses the spoon to try and stop the swirling. The trick is to remove the spoon altogether and just let the dirt settle on its own, then the glass becomes clear.

It's not hard, but it requires a certain lack of effort to achieve this goal. It's also enough to try. If you are trying, then you are meditating.

"How did the Boddhisatva reach Nirvana?"

"Practice, practice, practice."

I guess my head was turned around...

...only gently.


Johnnyboy

Snow, serenity, and an exciting weekend...

I decided to skip my usual Thursday night meeting and stay home tonight. The treacherous roads helped make up my mind, but there were other, more important, activities to take on. I am leaving for Vermont tomorrow to take part in a Level 1 Shambala training retreat hosted by a Buddhist center. Karme Choling is a meditation center north of White River Junction and is thought of highly by both my sponsor and some other AA friends. This will be my first outing into a spiritual community beyond AA and I am very excited and nervous. They feed us well and I'll be sleeping in one of the dorms. My sister reminded me that I'll be one of many who are new and that some of them may be trying to heal themselves for some of the same reasons as me. Still, I greet this new experience with the nervousness of a student on his first day of school.

I was just outside having a smoke when it occured to me how quiet the world seemed. Up here on the hill the night closed in with a blanket of clouds and a feather bed of fresh powder, muffling all sound except for a dog barking in the distance. Even the county plows haven't hit the roads yet, choosing to wait until later, when the weather has completely passed us by. There is no wind, not even a breeze. I reflected on how lucky I am, how fortunate to have this chance at healing and redemption. True, the world can seem as if it is spinning out of control. The Numbskull seems to be ruining this country the same way he ruined the Texas Rangers and his home state when he was governor. He is hell bent to create as much damage on his way out as he can. Like a spoiled child told to pick up his toys after leaving them scattered about the rug, he'd rather break them than let someone else enjoy playtime. But that is far away tonight.

I made a nice meal for mom and me and spent some time with her. I have done that a lot in the past 2 days. Yesterday we went grocery shopping together and today I helped her work out her new health plan with AARP. All is well. Her coverage is secure and she has been cared for and fed. I have also given her the only gift that I can: my inconditional love and company.

I may not have sobered up then for my family, but I stay sober now for what I can be to them today. I also stay sober for myself, realizing that, perhaps, through all of the self-imposed trauma and pain, I have hope after all. This trip to Vermont says this loud and clear. I am healing, asking for help, and showing up for life. What a relief! There were times when I was sure It was all over. Now I'm sure It has only just begun.

So I'll read for a spell, write a couple of emails, watch a movie, and hit the sack. Tomorrow I'll wake up, pack a small bag with what little I'll need, and head North around 1PM. I should arrive by 5 or so, settle into my digs, introduce myself around, and...I don't know what happens next. This is new for me.

I'll tell you all about it when I get home.


Johnnyboy