worn trail part two

     This is not something that happened overnight. It is with time and experience that I can see the spiderweb like connections to all these people, family, friends, colleagues and experts in their field. When I got sober, I was taught and so I learned, that I was never alone. I was taught that I would always have the fellowship in sobriety, of those like me, trying to get through the day, and I always have the God of my understanding. As I have grown in sobriety and have gotten older I have been able to expand that circle to include family, friends, and professional people inc doctors, lawyers and such.

      This is one of those... gee I wish I had known this then deals. When I drank, the combination of false pride, ego, false self-esteem and fear of rejection, would not let me ask for help or assistance. It was not in my vocabulary nor in my make up of a person. I could not say “I don't know” or “Could you help me?”.I would either bumble around blindly or eavesdrop on someone who knew the subject at hand, then try and bullshit my way through the problem at hand. An alcoholic is the only person I know that can go into a courtroom for a DUI and leave thinking he is now a lawyer if not a judge. There is an old line “I am not a doctor, but I play one on TV”, that fits me to a “T”. That all encompassing feeling that I knew. What I knew, I could not tell you, but oh... I knew all right. Mentally twisted I admit, but that was me when I drank. The elevator did not stop at all the floors, seemed to skip one or two. Seems I was born under the stupidity curse of “I don't need your help. I can do it myself, and probably better than you anyway”. You can guess the kind of trouble and the type of friends that attitude brought.

     After I had been sober awhile, a friend passed a some valuable lesson to me. He said, “If something is broke , you might as well try to fix it, it won't get any more broke than broke”. His point of reference was to my car. I seemed to always be working on keeping that thing running. But I have used that lesson on all sorts of things since. Computers, cars, equipment to friendships and relationships, it seems to work rather nicely. I have even used it on myself. If I am having trouble: i.e. something is broke, no one is going to be able to fix it but me, so I might as well try and fix it. As with my car when it wasn't running, and since I know I am not a ACE mechanic, I had to ask for help. I found out lot of folks like to help if your willing to do the work with them, not so much if I just sit back and watch them work. So to was it with my Life. I had to become willing to ask for help in the different areas that were broke as I saw them. In finances, in relationships, with family matters, on dating, and sex, I became kind of an open book, for people to write on my pages. Discovering that I could not do Life on my own, I invited everyone to join me . Yes it kind of let folks see I was a messed up goof, but it also gave them the chance to be helpful and of use. It relieved me of the stress of having to know everything and allowed me to become a “work in progress” as apposed to a finished product.

   

The Worn Trail

The Worn Trail

     There is a commonality of spirit that allows me not to ever be alone anymore. A by-product of sobriety, it was when I realized I wasn't unique. I am sober, and so are others, some who had a drinking problem and are recovering, and some who just don't drink alcohol. I am a father, as are lot of other men. I am divorced and so are some other people I know. I am retired from the Army, and I know plenty of others retired from the military. I had a near death experience, and have met other who had come close to dying also. Though not religious, I am a firm believer in my Father, as are many others of different faiths and beliefs. So while I am all of the above, others have had some of the same experiences, and as friends I can share my experiences or troubles with them.

     By having this friends network of sorts, I am not alone. Those shared experiences draw the friendship down to a deeper level and not just being a surface level friendship. As in sobriety with sponsorship, the learning from someone else's experience in whatever matter is at hand, allows my knowledge to grow. Through sharing my experiences in the subject allows me to be of use to my fellows and hopefully gives them strength that they are not alone.

     For whenever I am down, be it emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually or even financially, I have the tendency to be hard on myself. To exasperate the experience I am going through and make it feel much worse than actually is. I kick myself when I am down to say. At that point, I will usually call up the past mistakes I have made in life, just to verify the fact that I cannot do anything in Life right. When this happens I use to be able to count on myself to do something incredibly foolish. I hop on the stupid train and ride it for as long as I can. In reviewing my past, it has never failed to amaze me, my ability to rationalize the dumbest move a man can make, and justify my actions.

     Now through recognizing the commonality of spirit, with the problems that arise, I can reach out to someone I know who has had this problem and talk and share with them. That by-product of sobriety, the “I don't know” or the ability to ask for help, in spite of my ego and pride, allows me to feel apart of the community of friends around me, and a member of the worlds family.

Lot more to follow.later.

On God, Coffee and a Good Cigar.

On God, Coffee and a Good Cigar

      I think I was 23 maybe 24 yrs old when I discovered this great drink called coffee. 

This enticing warm, dark beverage that made me sigh with satisfaction and contentment. Throughout the arrogance and snobbery of youth, I had avoided drinking it, thinking that it was just those old peoples drink. I stuck with soda and chocolate doughnuts as my main wake up foods. In discovering coffee, I was discovering a whole new realm and culture of living.

      I found the peace and serenity that comes with the sunrise. Waking up, my mind already at warp speed, just taking the time to sit down at the kitchen table with that first cup. Taking that first sip and feeling my brain slow into an operating mode and the rest of my body waking up to face the day. My dog knows when it is time for breakfast by the sound of the beans grinding in my coffee maker. Some things in Life I have learned, should never be rushed, a truly good cup of coffee, a good meal, the first kiss in a new relationship, and definitely never rush a good cigar.

      These, to me, are the simple good things that make up a good life. The simple pleasure given by God as if to say, “see how good Life can be?”. Not dramatic or earth shattering, not parting seas or 40 day floods, but the right in front of me, looking in my eyes way of saying, good stuff. I have found that taking the time to enjoy these adds to my ability to enjoy my Life. I take the time over morning coffee and my first cigarette to chat with my God, and reflect over the day to come. It maybe a easy going day or one filled with stress, busy from start to finish, but I have found the rewards in taking the time in the morning helps the rest of the day flow, as opposed to bumping, jostling, down the dirt road hitting every pothole in sight.

      I firmly believe Life is suppose to be a good and joyous experience. It is the simple things that in looking and finding the quality of, that add up to a joyous life. Like a savings account that you start slowly adding to, penny by penny, nickel by nickel, over time it adds and accumulates. When you add onto it the interest gained by saving, you seeing the benefit. So I believe it goes in Life. When I thank the God of my understanding, for the many blessings he has put in my Life, after so many thank you's I discover I am thankful for this Life He has given me. Being thankful equals being grateful, being grateful means showing actions that reflex my gratitude, which reflexes the love I have for my God, my family and my friends.

      I enjoy coffee time. I enjoy it in the morning with reflection and I enjoy having coffee with friends and chatting in the afternoon or evening. It is the perfect time to relax, enjoy their friendship, get caught up on their lives, reflect on the love God has given me by putting these people in my life and lastly to hopefully be of use to them. No where is it written that they have to be my friends, they choose to let me into their lives as I choose to let them into mine. I may not be able to pick my family, but God gives me the choice to pick my friends. What I am really picking is an extension to my family. I am entrusting those I pick as friends with a valuable resource, time. For to be a friend means I must take the time to be there for them, as they take time to be there for me. It is not for what I possess but for who I am that matters. Friendship like love is not a bartering situation. It is a 100 percent thing. I have learned I must give it my all, or else it does not work.

      These are the things I contemplate over coffee or over a good cigar. For it is over the quiet time in the morning or the cigar time in the evening where I talk with my God and look over my Life and see it for what it is. That is one of the best things of smoking a good cigar. When I take the time to smoke a cigar the only physical thing I can do is smoke the cigar, so it leaves my mind to enjoy the cigar, and reflect on my God and what He has shown me of Life. Sometimes they are lessons learned from living through them myself, other times it is from being an active member of my life, seeing and watching what is going on in the lives of my loved ones and friends.

      Life is a participation sport. It is meant to be lived in the middle of the field not from the sidelines. These quiet times over coffee, over a cigar, or with coffee with friends, are my res-pit from the ongoing daily juggling act of life, family, friends and work. It is that stolen moment where my daily battery gets a quick charge. Mother Teresa wrote or said :”To do ordinary things with extraordinary love”. I think that is the extra ingredient needed to living a joyous life. Learning to do the simple things in life with the same amount of attention and love I give the “BIG” things in life. I joke with my daughters about why home cooking always tastes better than restaurant food, I say because “it is made with love”. I think that is the truth of it, and when I am enjoying my cup of coffee or cigar, that is what my God is reminding me of. That the BIG things are all made up of small things, and if I am doing them with love that they cannot go wrong. He reminds me to take joy in the simple for when I break down the complex, everything becomes simple, and my Life is usually a good and joyous place to be apart of.

new / next book cover.

A Mile Further On Down

(Walking With My Dog)

__________

Quo Vadimus

Lawrence E Jackson

My look at Heaven

 

Looking at Heaven

      Many times in life, I have marveled at the blessings I have been given. I write and talk a lot about perception and how sobriety has brought a change in my perception. The appreciation of what I have versus what I want. It seems as I get older, I am coming to realize that what I want, I already have. The important things like God, Family, and Love, not the transitory things like money, possessions, and such.

      I was over to visit my daughters yesterday, and as seems to be the case, whenever I am not looking, it hits me. I am a very lucky man. My girls were in the living room, the oldest on her laptop and the youngest laying on the couch. Both back from a day at school, relaxing, comfortable, safe and at peace. What more could I ever ask for?

      I look and I watch and am just amazed. How did this happen where I have two such wonderful girls? When I look at my girls, I see them as they are today, teenagers growing into fine young women. But I also see them as they were, remembering when they were in diapers, walking with them to their first day of school, and driving them to belly dancing class. I remember, in Colorado, taking Tabea to the circus, and picking Meyra up from her daycare. Special daughter, poppa time.

      Whenever I wonder what heaven must be like, I remember the feeling of holding them in my arms when they were babies and watching them sleep. That feeling of love, warmth and all is right in my world. I remember the feeling I felt, that fatherly pride, as Tabea, my eldest, walked into her prom. She was no longer Poppa's little girl, although in my heart she will always be, she is a young woman. During the course of evening, there was the traditional father and daughter dance. That was a bitter sweet moment, almost a precursor to the father giving the daughter away at her wedding. I know that time will come, this was the just warm up, a glimpse into the future. I am pretty sure that I will be just as proud then and just as heart broken.

      Every Thursday I get the opportunity to visit a little slice of heaven. I get to take my youngest daughter horseback riding. Seeing her smile as she gallops on her horse is almost a direct link between my heart and heaven. I may be a sentimental old fool, but seeing someone I love, enjoying what they are doing, oblivious to the world around them, care free for that instant in time, is just that, sentimental and precious. A respite in time, a glimpse into what I feel is God's love for all his children.

      Big beautiful horses and God's kids playing under the sun, enjoying the, and living in, the moment. When I wish I could freeze time this is what I mean. But this is what memories are for. God's little Polaroid moment forever lock in my memory of how good life can be and what heaven must surely be like.

more on Heaven, God and belief to follow.. thanks.

So Sweet the Sorrow

  So Sweet the Sorrow

A matter of perception.

      The sun rising over the trees, glistening off our spit shined boots. The dewy grass forming a light low fog. The peace and serenity of the cemetery enfolds us. We stand on a slight rise, overlooking the freshly dug grave as the widow is driven in, followed by the slow moving hearse. The funeral director gingerly guides the elderly lady dressed in mourning black, to the folding chair that awaits. The men by the rear of the hearse, dressed in formal uniforms wait, as one opens the rear door, and in unison, they step. Offloading the flag draped coffin, with precision and care, they turn and march it to the holding stand that awaits. The wife watches in silence as the men march it into place. The sun shining on a cloudless morning as I hear the words, ready, aim, fire, and with a crack in unison the rifles fire their first volley. The lady jerks,startled by the load sound echoing in the empty cemetery. Crack, the second volley, crack, the third, followed by the soulful sound of the bugler as he starts to render Taps. The sound too much for her, her composure breaks and I hear the wails and sobs of pent up emotions flow out. A loved one saying goodbye.  The men fold the flag, a sea of blue, with only white stars showing, folded into its triangle shape, handed to the officer in charge.  He turns, presenting it to the widow, salutes, and I hear the words “On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army and a grateful nation......as we march quietly off to the side, the rendering of honors to a fallen comrade, complete.
      Before she left that morning, she thanked us for the service and for being there. Saying how much it would have meant to her husband and how much it meant to her the he was remembered for his service.
 I like to write about sobriety and the change in perception it has brought about. I like to write about the happy and good times but there are times when I look at the sweet sorrowful times and realize  how important they are to me.  My God has given me many wonderful times, and as equally times filled with tears and sorrow.
      In the 22 plus years I served in the Army I have had the opportunity and privilege of working with many fine fine individuals and of doing some things that made me appreciate the life I was leading. From being a private on guard or doing recons on the DMZ to waiting on the flight line to deploy. From training troops as a Drill Sergeant to helping soldiers as their First Sergeant, I even brokered a marriage, sort of. I have deployed to various regions and been around the world, all of which made me proud to serve and grateful to my God for seeing and remembering those people and experiences. Of all those experiences the one that holds me in gratitude the most was being part of funeral details.  Either as the NCO of the rifle squad, or as a member or in the flag detail, it always made me feel a part of a very large family.  It was always gratifying to me, to be able to help render honors to a fallen brother in arms and to help the family say good bye to their loved one.
      Funerals are never a “fun” thing to do. I have never left one feeling happy or glad. But I am grateful to my God for letting me be a part of them, especially military funerals.  The military funeral  ceremony itself, with its grace and precision and its overall simplistic beauty has always held me in awe.
      Saying goodbye is hard and emotional. I am grateful that with a military funeral, the deceased veteran and family, have a military presence recognizing the contributions and sacrifices that their loved one made for this country. That their loved one, be it father ,mother, sister, brother, whatever, was also a member of the military family and we recognize, acknowledge and render honor unto our fallen comrade.
      Love, hate, happy, sad, joyful or sorrowful, they are emotions that today I am grateful to my God for letting me experience. I cannot appreciate one without the other. So it is a sweet sorrow, the sense of missing and lost combined with the sense of gratitude and joy knowing they rest in the love of their family, and in my God's peaceful presence.
      As with Life, always a process of adjusting my perception from what I see through my eyes to what I see through my eyes and heart. Of watching the world change not through some big miracle, but through the action taken on a kind thought. His gift to me.      

Freedom to Do

The Freedom of Freedom

     The funny thing about sobriety is that I am free to do whatever I want. Sobriety offers me the ultimate freedom, that being of choice. I am free to do anything as long as I am willing to pay the price for my actions or inaction’s. I can stay sober or I can get drunk, (not a real choice but you see what I mean) to live a good life or be a liar, a cheat and a thief. To believe as I choose to believe. Do do it all one way or another or somewhere in between. When I think of it, it really is kind of awesome, total freedom, and a little frightening also.

     

     So why freedom? Well I am getting close, as in the next year or year and a half of having to make some major life changes. The type of changes where a year is not much time. The problem I am faced with is: I do not know what I want. I have been praying and asking for guidance from Poppa upstairs, and from friends, but really, I can do whatever I want to do. That is the root of the problem. What do I want?

 

      In another two years the garrison where I work in Germany will be closed. I will be 53 yrs old. The prospect of moving somewhere in Germany just to work is slim. My daughters will both be getting ready to or will be out of their mother's house by then and most likely in college. I enjoy Germany but do not have any close ties, excepting my daughters. For me financially, I will be doubly retired, with two plus checks coming in. Child support will be mostly over. (I have daughters, so I know will always be paying, gladly paying them) But the idea of living in Germany, while my daughters are out and about living their lives, does not make much sense to me. They are or will have reached the age of spreading their wings and being fine young women, so the active, poppa, father role time will be moving to the advice and love stage of fatherhood.

     That being the crux of the dilemma. I will only be 53, far to young to pick out a rocker and a porch. Where do I want to go and what do I want to do? I ask my Father, where I would be of most use? Where can I be of help? I have the feeling he is enjoying my struggle. For this is a by-product of sobriety, good living, and doing the right thing. This freedom of choice. This, I can do what I want.

     My God knows I am struggling, and I am sure in the right time (His, not mine) he will let me know. I know I want to put down some roots. It seems every ten or so years of my life I have been moving, or facing a life change so I know I would like to have a base of operations I can call home. I know I will be visiting Germany a couple times a year. I miss my daughters daily now even when I can see or talk to them daily. I hate to think about not being there, but I know it is the right thing. 

more to follow, this is the writing to clear the mind sort of thing.