Day Five: The way to eternal happiness...

Hot bath after a day of household chores and some fresh pickerel battered and fried...  Another good day in a pretty good stack of good days that this life has brought me.

Bruce Lee in HD and a houseload of kids and beautiful women.  What have I done to deserve these, life's sweet rewards? 

Part of me thinks I was a real tortured soul in a previous life because, as one of my recovery friends has so aptly put it "you have no idea how lucky you are."  Another part of me thinks it may have something to do with the so-called difficulties that we faced when I was young. The trials and tribulations and patient, abiding tears into my pillow night after night seem to have earned me some celestial credits.

Matters naught.  I am here now and that is all that matters.  The world is a beautiful place and so much of what is in it is also beautiful.

No need to dig too deep today.  I am a little fearful of what the cat may drag in.  (By the way diesel, thanks for the mouse on the front step today.  Gave the ants something to do besides ravage our peonies!)

Strange dreams these last few nights.  So thankful for my bedmate.  It is like sleeping beside Mother Earth so grounded she makes me feel. 

I have always had this strange delusion about my writing.  That one day I would just settle down into myself and just write, and be instantly grand at it.  That I would write the "Great Canadian Aboriginal Poor Beginnings Champagne Finishing Smartypants Heartfelt Novel" and live happily ever after, raising kids and goats and chickens and cows and grow beets, snowpeas, carrots and spuds on a little patch of bush somewhere in the mountains.

I had a therapist one time who, while I was waiting for her to help me with my philandering, asked me if I thought I had a drug problem.

"I smoke pot," said I, fully ignorant of my own complete disregard for truth, personal or otherwise, "and I will smoke pot till I die."

"Hmph," said she.  "Well, you will not make any personal growth until you admit you have a problem and decide to stop using substance chronically."

"Hmph," thought I.  "What does she know, this krinkly old lady."

"And another thing," said she.  "You will not write the Great Canadian Novel, Aboriginal or Otherwise, until you start writing.  Not some Magnum Opus;  just writing."

I distinctly remember that statement resonating deep within me.  That she was right.  That to dream and delude one's self about writing the perfect blend of pain and joy and truth and bullshit on the first go round was pretty vain and self absorbed NOT to mention fairly akin to self-sabotage.  So I tried.

But the slow, steady pitter pat of safe, responsible steps toward enlightenment and happiness was and is still foreign to me.  I was and am much more familiar with the staccato sounds of sprints and stumbles of oxfords on the cobblestones.  Sprints and stumbles.  Leaps and tumbles. Up and down, sink and swim.  Look like you're just about to get ahead and then pull the whole thing down on yourself.

Magnum Opus be damned.  I am just going to do some Sunday single panel cartoons, but they'll be good, trust me. Fuck the Great Novel.  I'll write a song or two, dazzle the onlookers and continue to undermine my own path to sanctity and satisfaction.

In the words of the Late Great Slim Pickens "WTF?" 

Just like I knew in my heart that Louise, the most talented therapeutic practitioner I have ever known, was completely right in all her recommendations and analyses, I know in my heart that I have sadly shortchanged myself by living in the shortcut for so long.

Doing my homework at my desk 10 minutes before class begins 30 years ago or finishing a project for work on the day of the deadline - procrastination didn't kill the cat, but it sure made him fat and lazy. ; )

So part of my rationale for this blog is to write.  Simply to write.  To allow the cloudy, muddled thoughts and feelings that are "coming out all over" in early recovery to sweeten, distill, steep and settle into poetry and prose of which I can be proud as we get nearer to this time next year.

You know, I have been an addict since I ate my first Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookie at 5 years old.  Even the sadness that has been my companion for all my life, I believe, is a guilty pleasure that has addictive roots.

I was the Captain of Team Chronic since the age of 11.  Blackout drunk at 14.  Playing the most dangerous game of stimulant addict for nearly 12 years.  In all that time, the longest time I have mustered without using anything chronically is 5 months.  I did that about four years ago.  Then, when everything was perfect...  "Hm, think I'll call *insert dealer name here*.  Celebrate my newfound happiness and success."

I have had two, three, four months.  Two, three, six weeks... numerous times, but no sustained "pitter, pat, pitter, pat" of slow and steady winning the race.

I admire all you folks that walk the talk.  Day after day, week after week, year after year.  Some of you drink and smoke now and again.  Good on you.  You wake up with your kids every day.  Some of you fuck around and chase shits and giggles at the expense of your better halves.  I don't think that's wise or kind.  Somewhere in the middle of all this is a path worth walking.

I have historically waffled between some twisted version of Super Dad and insane, no show cracker jack.

Today, I choose to be here.  In the now.  Sharing a bed with my soulmate, and two sweaty three year olds.  Allowing the flotsam to drift away and the gems to be revealed.  It doesn't take long.  All the clean time I've mustered, all the growth and understandings and truths  - they are still there.  I can't go backwards and lose them.  They become clear and reveal themselves as I stop muddying up the stream, stop stirring up the shit and silt and caca.

It's not when it gets hard that I go and fuck up.  It's when it gets good. 

It's getting late.  In deference to the late, great Bruce Lee who is currently lighting up the 46" in High Definition, I will finish with a couple of his quotes.

"Real living is living for others."

Nice.  Putting in the time and the effort with this beautiful, deserving family.  I managed to help our beautiful Teen Queen onto the winning float for Strathcona County's Canada Day Parade.  Still some work to do after disappearing on her birthday this year, but it's a start.

Maybe finding some way to grow in recovery and share what little truths or tools I may discover.  Maybe I should finish a set of steps...  Can't teach what you don't know. 

This is living for others. 

I also like this other Bruce Lee quote.  Self fulfilling prophecy.

"You just wait.  I'm going to be the biggest Chinese star in the world."

My Love to You.
S.