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There was a time in the not so distant past that the meaning of relationship went hand in hand with sobriety, the understanding of which was the deep and abiding necessity of life. Most of us were unable to create any meaningful connections with others and took counsel only by our own thoughts. We learned that our thoughts were not to be trusted, and were created by experiences that led us into addiction in the first place. Healing was slow and not so steady with many a comforting hand on our shoulder to guide us back from our self inflicted detours. There was always a shoulder to cry on, someone would always be on the other end of the phone.

Over our first years of life saving awareness we were taught we needed each other, but it was difficult to give up what we thought of as our independence. We learned that our best thinking got us into a whole world of trouble and saw it clearly when examining our past deeds. We were hammered, cajoled and loved into believing that keeping to ourselves was dangerous, but it was a hard fought battle to live with tribal consensus rather than our own opinions.

We finally got that isolation led to all sorts of relapse issues, from food to drugs to sex and relationships; anything that might even faintly smelled of addiction. We found out, sometimes the hard way that recovery’s greatest enemy is isolation. Some knew it well and explored the terrain intimately, others thought they had that under control and became lost to us. As we grew older and wiser in recovery we came to believe we should never trust our heads. We understood tribal consensus was the only way for us.

We were surprised and confused when we were told to shelter in place. A little disoriented as body language hid behind a mask. No more hugs for awhile, no more gathering at half time to see friends anymore. But we knew it would only be for a short time. As weeks became months some of us realized some of our old behaviors were showing up.

The world we once knew has vanished in a very short period of time. This “new normal” is an isolationists dream to the same degree it has become nightmare. Just think, permission; no not even that. It is the law to social distance in these days of pandemic. Today a sneeze on the street cuts a wide swath in public, almost like the parting of the Red Sea for those who wish to walk alone. It looks as if getting ‘back to normal’ is not an option. At the time of this writing it’s actually against the law to be mask-less and to ignore social distancing in some regions. In one country a $27,000 dollar fine and a prison sentence could be levied against anyone refusing to comply. Here at home and in most of the North American continent there is a certain sense of entitlement, when you add and stir addict thinking into the mix it is easy to understand why it is so difficult to mitigate the disease.

Let’s take a closer look  and see why isolation has become so dangerous in the time of Covid-19 and beyond.

There are many definitions and meanings of isolation, probably as many as there is human beings on this planet. To some it is the most comfortable place to be, owing nothing to anyone but oneself. Responsible only to our experience of how comfortable it is to not be accountable to anyone but self. Romantic ideation of isolation is used as fertile imaginations look for a novel way of defending it. For instance, isolationists are attracted to the persona of the ‘lone wolf’, needing no one, speaking only when necessary. A Clint Eastwood type riding out of town slowly into the sunset with steely squinting eyes a cheroot hanging from the corner of his mouth. Or a spiritual guru, meditating while pushing others away with their metaphysical and other worldly demeanor. I will leave you to add to the list. Others can be fooled quite easily into thinking they are not isolating but are doing their part to save the world. A good one is sending kids back to school because there mental health will deteriorate without the stimulus of other kids. A half truth really, again I will let you fill in the blanks here again, but the point is the justifications are endless!

In Pre Covid times it was difficult to isolate. There would be phone calls, texts, and even a banging on the door. Becoming clean was such a tribal exercise that it was hard to be on the fringe. Through our own experience with relapse we found it to be true and usually gave up our incessant hiding out with the blinds closed and doors locked. We jumped in and became one of the door crashers ourselves, firmly coming to believe it was the right way. But underneath, where addiction waits, a yearning for aloneness never is truly vanquished. It was too hard sometimes to be observed and told how to be and what to do. We never did learn to use our voices. People pleasing was still a way to get the world off your back.

We start our exploration here, probably in isolation. Many of us work from home now and admittedly it took time, but we did become very comfortable with working in our pajama bottoms while conducting zoom business meetings dressed for business from the waist up. We found that not driving or taking transit was not only money saving, it was just plain better than having to wear your public face all day every day. The sleeping Dragon opened one eye.

In the beginning not going out to be with Tribe was a novelty. Zoom meetings got easier and smoother to attend. You still went to the same number of meetings except you didn’t have to find parking anymore. There were meetings all over the continent. You found yourself attending speaker meetings in Wisconsin, and Big Book studies in New York. You felt connected in your disconnectedness. You can tell your tribe (on line) that your attending a meeting every day. What a great way to get your sponsor off your back. The Dragon opened the other eye.

You know yourself much better now. It bubbled into your consciousness that you were fooling yourself. But with no tribe around to agree you rationalized that as well. This is just a holiday, it won’t last long, everyone has to do this so I think I’ll just bake another loaf of bread. You do your Stepwork online. You talk to your sponsor, you do notice however you’re not talking about the awakening Dragon. You recognize that your manipulating yourself, creating a new reality, but it’s based on old behavior. Is that enough to put the Dragon back to sleep? Let’s leave this speculation now. From here on in it can morph into any direction. Pick one. Ask yourself the following questions, and answer them truthfully:

Is your sense of belonging beginning to fray?   Y[   ]   No[   ]

Do you find yourself getting used to sheltering in place?   Y[   ]   N[   ]

Have you lied to others?  Y[   ]   N[   ]

Have you lied by omission? Y[   ]   N[   ]

Does it feel awkward talking mask to mask at the grocery store?   Y[   ]   N[   ]

Do you privately worry about isolation? Y[   ]   N[   ]

Can you feel the hot breath of the Dragon?         

I lay in my bed this morning to late to go back to sleep to early to get up, a stray dream surfaces as my mind comes up for air.

I am standing at the end of the little death called sleep, on the bridge heading to the birth of awake. I await my que to enter stage right to begin the day so that it might end again.

The mundane habit of a day is much like the next and the next. Cumulations of small discoveries of life pile up on one another to make big changes from small beginnings to what I think of as the Big End.

The tiny simple days offer only anti climax after anti climax. As I pack these tiny learnings away what do I do with them? Like precious little keepsakes does one save them for something? Or are these little treasures of wisdom for naught?

This awareness we humans have has a purpose we hope. We have created a multitude of stories to go with them. We mix and match them as we match colors of hope and fear in equal parts. We have beautiful minds that are aware of the coming ending. We write beautiful songs and books about new beginnings, hoping against hope there will be one, fearing there isn’t.

We are so conscious in the morning about the big nothing at the end of this physical being. So we fill our lives with hard won objects as we tell ourselves we can take them with us, that they actually mean something. All this pain and laughter must have some kind of meaning at the beginning of a new ending.

We go through so much just to create it all. The end comes slowly or comes really fast. Either way it doesn’t really hurt. The mundane days make the build up bearable. It is the fear that does the hurting. We do all these other things to numb it, to make the hardness softer. We laugh when someone says, “well, you can’t take it with you”, as we hope desperately to do just that. Legacy is huge! Everyone wants to leave one behind. Why? Maybe you can take it with you, better not take a chance, maybe Santa Claus really does know who’s Naughty or Nice.

It’s all conjuncture as the sun comes up again as I lay in my bed sleep leaving my eyes. time to get up and move through the day preparing for it’s ending once again.

I wanted to BE a ‘biker’ in the worst way. I was completely taken by the dream. The Vision of me in the saddle on my gleaming iron horse, feeling the wind pushing tears from my eyes, the lines on the road blurring into a long ribbon of white. I feel the power of the V-Twin underneath me, the straight pipes drowning out any other sound , so loud they turn the world to silence. The excitement rises as I grab a handful of throttle. The feel of torque grabbing asphalt as she winds up in first and… What ??What!! Wait a minute!!! I don’t know how to shift into second!!!

The dream always crumbled like a fender at the thought of how high the impenetrable wall of ‘How To’ was. So much higher than I could possibly climb over.

Fear instantaneously crashed my dream every single time. Where would I get the money for lessons or a motorcycle for that matter? How do you change a gear anyway? But I couldn’t drop the dream completely, it just wouldn’t go away. I tried to bury it with thoughts that came with my moms voice, “you can’t”, “it’s too dangerous”, “act your age”. But every time I heard the thunder on the highway my dream turned on like a headlight only to consume me once again. I was so tired of this dead end detour.

So I finally put the blinders on and pushed past the fear as I swung my leg over the saddle of my first Harley Davidson.

Be-Do-Have. I know… I have written that mantra before but it bears repetition often and in many different ways so I don’t forget. I didn’t have the words or understand how it worked in those days. All I knew was a great drive inside my soul, an all consuming fire of Spirit, a crazy itch that I couldn’t scratch, and it was eating me alive. Blinders is the operative word in the world of hard commitment. I had to put them on, keep my eyes on the prize and jump! If I thought about it I would back out yet again.

Have you ever have that itch? I know you have or you wouldn’t have read this far. Was it a long time ago or recently? What power did it have over you? It’s hard to express that extreme craving, the obsessive need to satisfy that burning itch. Anyone who has experienced it will know exactly what I’m talking about. It might be a dream of publishing a book, or skiing, or having a baby maybe finding ‘The One’. The same process of being and doing must take place in order to actualize the dream.

Someone coined the term “Psyched up” as two great words that express that extreme will of the soul where any uncertainty or inability to accomplish is completely overwhelmed by desire. Harnessing that desire is the skill in which one can be anything one wants to be.

So how do you turn a dream to reality? How do you finally scratch the itch? It soon became apparent that I couldn’t swing my leg over the saddle and happily ride off into the sunset.

There were preparations to be made, learning to be done to amplify my “bikerness”. The time of the terrible ‘how to’s’ had come. The dream has to be of such intensity and endurance that it will withstand the pressure and pain of learning as well as the failures that make it so rewarding. It also must withstand the boredom of repetition. One must be able to do it without thinking, create a flawless habitual reflexibility. There can be no room for error. One must humble themself to a teacher, a mentor or written instruction and still keep the burn alive. It is so easy to give up in the learning phase; especially when it’s a live or die commitment. Your dream must be strong enough to survive the beating it takes. So many give up in this phase.

It gets easier to rationalize the quit. Mother’s voice comes in loud and clear as I go up and down the road. Pull in the clutch at exactly the right rpm, toe up the gear, let out the clutch as I throttle up, all in liquid motion like part of the machine itself. Why does my mentor’s voice sound like my mothers when I hear, ‘your not doing it properly, do it again over and over, and over again and again, then once more. The itch is still burning, at this point it’s absolutely necessary just to keep going. Put it down now and you may never pick it up again. Your light will miserably fizzle out and you’ll be left in the vacuum with a bad taste in your mouth and a sense of ultimate failure. That’s the time you turn the key again.

Now those of us who saw the terrible ‘How To’s’ through and actually learned how to do their dream and got good at it remember vividly the day it first became reflexive. The first time I realized I had changed a gear without thinking was such a rush I almost dumped the bike. I was so proud of myself, but I got humble real quick. I got a ‘well done’ from my teacher and right away was thrown into another lecture this time about whether to use brakes or throttle to get out of a jam, and how I must be quicker than thought on those Life or Death decisions. I must apply this new lesson while changing gears reflexively, and most of all I must allow myself to hear the throaty growl of V-twin engines on the freeway in order to keep the dream going. Not a lot of time between lessons to gloat.

So how do you keep the dream alive? Well, for this particular quest I bought a motorcycle, a good helmet, boots and a very cool leather jacket. A physical as well as a soul investment must be made for the all important amplification part of the learning phase. Its an insurance policy that makes it more difficult to quit. So once you have decided to BE (fill in the blank) you must carry through with the DO part to amplify that decision . Whether it is a school, a website, a briefcase or riding gear, it will become part of who you project yourself to be in this new reality you are birthing. You add on to yourself in creative ways so life will open that door. You will naturally attract like minded folks who have their own dream going on. You will hang out with them and be named and thought of as that which you have willed yourself to be. A lot of work you say? Yes, but what were you doing before? Making nightmares come true about what a failure you are and will be forever? Dreams are what life is all about anyway, isn’t it? It’s called self fulfilling prophecies by some, dreams by others, but it is what we spend our lifetimes creating. Might as well be positive about it.

Be warned though, the ‘Do’ amplification will change your path and persona for good. Once you add the props not only the world will see you this way…so will you! To this day when I pull my riding boots on I feel like Superwoman coming out of a phone booth ready for bear! My habitual, reflexive learning curve has modified my persona. This could be awkward if I decided I wanted to ‘BE’ a ballet dancer. But it could happen though, yes? I can picture it, can you?

After all is said and done the final ‘Have’ part of the equation is no longer as important as it was in the beginning. Which gives proof to the fact that it really is the journey not the destination that is the focal point of the itch. There’s only one thing you must have and keep. It’s knowing without a doubt or contradiction that you are exactly who you say you are. Unequivocally, undoubtably and formidably.

“The purpose of life is to create your Self anew, in the next grandest version of the greatest vision ever you held about Who You Are. It is to announce and become, express and fulfill, experience and know your true Self”. Neale Donald Walsch said that and he was right. (Conversations With God, Book 3, Chapter 15).

By the way, once you learn to ‘Be’ you will never lose your Be-Do-Have skill. You will always remember the ‘How To’ of it. You can be anything you want to be as long as you use your magic powers to create the itch.

Every good author knows that in order to write well one must read a lot. Every book read expands and strengthens ones emotional core.

Reading challenges your beliefs, values, and moral fortitude. The struggle to accept, integrate or reject a new idea is like pumping iron. Up, down, slowly, conscious of the burn. Repetitions, turning pages. Focus on form, breath and thought. Expansion and adding your own truth to the moral fibre of thought and outward expression builds confidence and brings new words and new worlds to the surface.

From a 98 lb weakling to a spiritual hulk in no time flat! Then the disseminating and rebuilding to write your learning into your own experience to share to the world.

Wisdom comes with reading. When you express through writing, you gift the Universe with more knowledge. You give folks like me the opportunity to know your heart and your wisdom, because if we are truly all one the world needs your wisdom just like you need mine.

So let’s get out there! Start light until you are pumping War and Peace, which by the way would be a physical workout as well as emotional!

Go In Peace

I have a radio in my bathroom, thanks to my motivated and handy partner. You turn the light on, you get the radio…like it or not. 4:57 AM with eyes still at half mast I turn the light on. The radio said to me, “and then I picked up a book called Conversations with God”. Huh? My brain turned on immediately and I listened to some guy talking about “What God Said”. He wasn’t talking about Neale’s new book; he was explaining what God said through the trilogy about who we really are. The program was over at 5 AM so I figured that was the message. Translating the message, it said to me that I should read while eating breakfast so I picked up the nearest book at the kitchen table which was Friendship with God. I opened it up where I had left off, chapter 6 p. 96. The first words that Neale said, “So that’s step two isn’t it?” I flipped back to see where this came from and God said, “When you love and trust yourself, then you will love and trust in me”.

So chapter 6 is all about Trust and Faith. Now, here’s the kicker…. I am of course a card carrying member of A.A. and I just happen to be writing on Step 2, and I know some of you know that the main Spiritual Principles of Step 2 of the 12 Steps are…Faith and Trust. Can anybody remember off the rib what step 2 is…? (no cheating now wink wink). I say that because after almost 30 years I still cannot remember all of them off by heart!!! But I digress. Step 2 is of course “We Came to Believe that a Power Greater than Ourselves Could Return us to Sanity”, and you are in-sane if you have gotten this far with your interest in the New Thought movement.  So this morning got me to thinking about the statement, “God never shuts up, but who’s listening”. That is what synergy is to me…awareness of all the ways God talks and shows and demonstrates to us the truth, if only we would listen.

I shared with you about my reading the same book up at the lake in the sun; on the vacation when Neale was sharing a childhood memory of disappointment associated with not getting what he wanted on his 8^th or 9^th birthday Sept. 10^th. Well can you guess what I’m going to say next? Yes, that’s right; I realized I was reading this on Neale’s 70^th birthday, September 10^th, weird? No I think not at all, synergy and God’s way of bringing it home to me that the universe is intelligent and is aware, and not at all above using this parlor trick to wake me up to remind me what’s available in awareness’s.

How did your awareness come about? Was it like mine, a slow evolution, God as I understood Him through the 12 Steps? Reading books like The Road Less Travelled, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, Course of Miracles, Marianne Williamson, learning Transcendental Meditation etc. etc.? Doing LSD in the 60’s, thinking Timothy Leary or Ken Keyse and the Electric Kool Aid Acid test was it? Always searching, searching, knowing but blindfolded, eyes wide open but sleepwalking, culminating with this writing. Synergy all the way through, God within me while I experienced what I needed to so I could end up as a bringer of the light, living my soul’s agenda at my “Joy Place”, teaching what I so desperately want to learn.  I dare say I didn’t “wake up” for many years and my main fun now is to help people to wake up earlier in their present incarnation. It is my joy and my way of expressing who I am in my own present incarnation.

I would love to hear your stories…how did you come to know what you are remembering now???

Excerpt P. 173 Surrogate Model of Treatment for Women – Linda Shaw 2019

Coming up the 12 steps to Charlford for the first time, desperate to get out of the hell she had created, the novice Peach struggles with her suitcases and big black garbage bags. There is always one or two bags filled with unwanted garbage and clutter she just can’t part with. They are filled with core beliefs, anger, self hate, mistrust and loneliness to name but a few. She’s been dragging them around for years, she knows they are pulling her down and she would do anything to get rid of them, but somehow they are comforting; the only normal she has ever known, at least they are consistent .

In the first few days she almost forgets they are there, still packed and sitting in the closet of her heart. The girls are so nice and helpful, and she’s learning so much, and she says in group one day, “I think I’ll just stay here forever!” and her new friends laughed looking at each other knowingly. Life on retreat is sublime; many would pay thousands for the 3 weeks of isolation from the world. “Maybe I don’t really need to be here”, she thinks, “Maybe I’m not as bad as the others”. She watches others in control mode, arguing, blaming, crying and she smiles a little Madonna smile….

But then…..

She hears someone gossiping and she thinks it is about her, and then her three weeks are up and she gets out of the bubble of retreat.  She feels awful finishing her Step 1 that provided a glimpse of the devastation she has caused her love ones, and herself.  Finally she gets to use the phone and life totally leaks in, suddenly she realizes she has just unpacked all of her pain. Nothing is different nothing’s changed, the harm was caused over a lifetime but she could never acknowledged it.  All she saw was her own pain and blame for everyone and everything around her for causing it. Here she had nothing to soothe her pain and it was stark and unforgiving. Everything she ran into Charlford to get away from is back with a vengeance. She wants nothing more than to pack her bags and run into the night to get caught in the lurking web of her dealer.

But wait…..

Somehow she ran into the office instead of out the door. She cried until her nose was running and cheeks were red. She hiccupped in her sobs, and slid down the wall to the floor. The two counselors turned in their chairs like judges on “The Voice” and listened until she was all cried out. She had a stray thought that she was glad she had her old long sleeved sweat shirt, she knew there would be no Kleenex to stop the deluge.

They allowed her the space to think things out, no hurry, no rush. The office felt safe and soft and warm. She asked if she could just sit here, and they said of course, this is your home, and then they went about their business with her as a welcome presence. The door opened and a resident came in, and then another, they sat down with her and began to talk about their first days here. Then there was the laughter that comes only when people share and relate to the same experiences.

One of her friends asked her if she could give her a hug, and when she did she suddenly understood these women were there for her. They gave her a glimpse of a new reality, a reality just out of ear shot, just around the corner. She actually “heard” the voice telling her that it wasn’t about her; it was about the ghosts in everyone’s past including her own.

She began her awareness process. She learned that she would experience awareness over and over again as the healing took place. It seemed to take forever to really embrace who she really was, and it was touch and go for a number of weeks and months. As she internalized this great gift of unconditional love she noticed her behavior was changing. One day she noticed that she was enjoying herself by helping another. How extraordinary!! Who knew?? Who would have thunk? Her housemates became Sisters and this truly was her family home.

Suddenly….

Her world crashed around her. The one huge thing she was holding on to, praying on, dreaming on, fell through. Just toppled down like a house of cards. It was in her grasp and then it was gone, like it had never been there. And despair overtook her. She became quiet, her sisters thought they had done something wrong, she just wasn’t herself. But she didn’t like the feeling; it didn’t feel normal even though this was the worst thing that could have ever happened. Then she did something that was utterly unavailable to her before, she reached out and began seeing the music therapist. You could hear the songs she wrote drifting like a sweet summer breeze all through the house. They were songs of grief, songs of love and sadness, but songs from her soul none the less. She saw it worked and reached out again to her yoga class and then to art therapy. She found herself creating her own reality through positive thought…the strength, the wonder of it all, she was back!

She finally understood life would always be there to leak in, but she could trust herself, feel, cry and decide to change it into something valuable. Her group sessions became meaningful as she became more and more honest in her step work. She learned ups and downs wouldn’t kill her but make her stronger and she became a Warrior for other women struggling with their garbage bags coming up the 12 steps to Charlford House.

And the time finally came….

That she counted the 12 stairs on the way down as she left her Spiritual home to go out into the world and change it just by her presence in it. Her head was up, her shoulders back, a true Spiritual Warrior, a Peach among Peaches!

And now…..

 She comes back all the time, we are family, been through a lot together. We will always have each other’s backs no matter where we are in this new world. Charlford House will be her home forever and she knows it and does her best to bring others up those 12 steps, she even carries theirs bags for them.

She has found a way to change the world!!!

(Who do you think I might be talking about?)