The connecting power of play

“God enters through the wound.”

Years ago I read this quote attributed to Carl Jung, the founder of analytical psychology. The words have remained sacred to me, and I have applied their balm to even the most superficial of wounds.

I find it easy to confide in others about the deep wounds life opens. Yet, it’s these small, seemingly insignificant scratches that, for me, cut as deep as glacial ice.  Over time they have carved out my self-image.  These are the ones that I keep secret because I am embarrassed to show them.  But, as I have learned in recovery, it is what I keep secret that makes me suffer.

Today is no different. I have found that I have been living a lie.  It’s another one of those silly scratches that I struggle to reveal because I don’t want others to laugh and say, “Really? Is that what you’re upset about?”

Yet, silently, I am in awe how God enters the wound if we allow ourselves to acknowledge that we have, indeed, been wounded.

Just yesterday I was completing an exercise from the book The Confidence Gap by Russ Harris.  It asked what values and goals I have in four facets of my life:  love, work, health, and play.

All was going great.   I was experiencing a flood of warm, glowing feelings of how much I have grown in my ten years of sobriety and my work as a spiritual life coach.  I was really patting myself on the back.

Yep, I was feeling like the Lebron James of love, the Wayne Gretzky of work, and the Hank Aaron of health.

Then I came to writing my values and goals for play. WTH! Crap!  I felt like I was hit on the head with a bat.  I came to the realization that I am the Pete Rose of play.  I have sabotaged my career as a player, the very thing that used to bring me joy.  I tried to remember the last time I went out on the town with a friend.

I came to the startling realization–a core truth:  The reason I drank was because I believed it was the only way I could feel a connection to others.

WTH! So I am sitting here today bleeding from the epiphany that I know as much about play as Donald Trump knows about public service.  I don’t just suck at playing, I haven’t even put on the uniform for what seems like years.  I have been so busy with my career and my commitments that I’ve forgotten how to engage in play with my friends.  I knew the power of play as a child, but my career and my commitments rob me of my play time.

At least that’s the lie I have been telling myself. The truth is that I find play to be uncomfortable.   It puts me right back into the story I have been writing over the years that I am socially defective.

I think about all the amazing people I have known in the past 20 years of my adult life. Many of those I have worked with.  But I poured myself into my work-a-day world so I went numb to my own needs and to theirs, neglecting the power of play to create the connection we needed between us.

So it grieves me to admit it, but I am suddenly—and consciously—aware that the reason I haven’t been doing fun things with colleagues, friends, and other loved ones is that it surfaces my own inadequacies.

As a child, I played fearlessly. But as I entered adulthood, I just sort of gave up.  I felt—and still do at times—that I am unworthy of play.  For years, I stood on the edge of my circle of friends, envious of the joy and laugher they shared, giving my social shame the power to keep me sidelined.

Is it any wonder that I worshipped the effects of alcohol? That it did for me what I couldn’t do for myself?  Instantly, without doing any work on myself, I could suddenly connect in play with others with just a couple of drinks.

It’s easy to blame my socially-isolated parents who never modeled for me what having friends over looked like. Yet, I promised my sponsor and myself to abandon my victimhood as I did the bottle when I became sober.  I know there are things that happened to me that I am not responsible for but, as an adult, I am responsible for healing them.

God really does enter through the wound. And it’s my commitment, just as it was with my 4th Step, to fearlessly look at myself and surface my character defects that keep creating the wounds.  And, just as before, I will get on my knees and ask God for the same miracle that got me sober.  Surely, if God’s grace could free me from the power of alcohol, then that same grace can free me from the prison of my own social fears.

I acknowledge to myself that play is crucial because it is how we, as human beings, connect. It will take time and courage to tear up the story about my social defectiveness.   In The Confidence Gap, Harris says that our problem is not that we lack social skills, it’s that we become fused with the story that we lack those skills.

Today, I am making a vow to call up a friend and ask him to join me in play. It takes practice to overcome any of our perceived defects.  Harris’ words hearten me in keeping me committed to this crucial project: “The actions of confidence come first; the feelings of confidence come later.”

I thank God that he used the simple exercise in Harris’ book to reveal to me a deep truth about myself that I have been hiding from for years.

God really does enter through the wound—even the scratches—and transmutes the pain into victory.

Living Life in Disguise

I was amazed to recently learn just how many men struggle to connect with other men.   When asked to answer the question, “What don’t you want other people to know about you?” a surprising number of the 24 men I had joined for a weekend training stated that they had difficulty creating deep and lasting friendships with other men.

I must admit that I was one of those men. And I was also one of those men who felt a tremendous sense of relief to be reminded that I was not alone in this struggle.

It’s been just over a week since I attended what’s called the New Warriors Training Adventure hosted by the ManKind Project, an international nonprofit that seeks to empower men to become more self-aware, and in the process become more emotionally mature and more skilled in relationships at home, at work, and at play.

During that weekend, one of the most transformative of my life, I realized at a deeper level that I can survive but never thrive without connection.

I remember the show Cheers with its theme song saying, “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name.”  I felt a temporary connection with Sam Malone and company while watching, but it also left me feeling hollow in the absence of those connections in my real life.

It wasn’t until I entered the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous ten years ago that I began to witness the power of connection. Yes, our troubles were all the same, and we learned from the old timers in the group that you can’t save your ass and save your face at the same time.

Facing death by alcohol has the power of waking a man up to living life by honesty.

Like with my experience with AA, the ManKind Project has helped me realize that I have a choice: I can live life fully by allowing others to really see me as I am or I can live life partially by pretending to be who I am not.

I admire the spiritual teacher Ram Dass. He said as a challenge to those who live their life playing a role rather than themselves, “Are we always going to meet on the stage? Don’t we ever take off the costumes?”

When asked why he cherished working with people who were on their deathbeds, Ram Dass said that imminent death had a way of removing the mask of who we pretend to be to reveal the beauty of who we are.

Many of us don’t want to remove the costume because we have invested a lifetime in creating it. Others may believe that living the illusion is more exciting than living the reality of who we are.

I was moved recently by learning the top regrets of people who are in hospice care. In the top five was the regret of not allowing others to truly know them, to experience the truth of who they are.

I’ve learned that it’s an impossibility to live our lives with any deep connection if we hide from others who we really are. We need to “get down from the stage so that we live out, not act out our lives,” says Joyce Block in her book Family Myths.

We must dare to be vulnerable if we dare to connect. In our early days together, my girlfriend expressed her frustration with trying to read me.  She said I was often opaque to her.  She asked, “So RJ, you don’t like small talk and you don’t like being emotionally intimate.  How do people connect with you?”  Ouch.

But I ask you that same question. How are men or women going to connect to you?  Are they going to connect superficially to the actor? Or are you willing to take the risk of removing your costume and descending the stage into your genuine self?

Help another person out by sharing in the comments what you have done to shed your costume.

The Ultimate Addiction

The ultimate addiction may be to our thoughts.

Everybody is aware of that voice in the head. You know, the one that urges you to action, the one that you argue with, the one that criticizes you, the one that narrates the movies you make in your head.

A friend of mine joked that the only difference between the people he sees on the streets arguing with themselves and himself was that he didn’t make public the dialogs he creates in his head. I laughed a little uneasily about this, and I was reminded of a passage from Eckhart Tolle’s The New Earth in which he makes the same observation as my friend.

One of the things that non-addicts get grumpy about is hearing addicts in recovery say time and again that everyone would benefit from reading the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. As a recovering alcoholic, I was guilty of this in my early recovery.

Yet, as I read more and more spiritual psychology, the more I learn about the voice. Tolle makes a cogent point that we are all addicts…addicts to our own thinking.   Part of it, particularly for those who love drama (and we all do to a degree), is that creating these mental movies is like the rush of crack.  There is a release of hormones and an adrenaline rush that is…well…addictive.

The majority of us have come to believe that the voice is ourselves speaking to ourselves. What psychologists say is that the voice is really a collection of voices from parents, caretakers, and people who were influential in our lives back as early as childhood.  We have internalized these voices into a composite voice that is constantly chattering away in our heads.

Because it is so familiar, we consider it to be one that “has our back,” that is looking out for our best interest, that is like a best friend. We sometimes forget that this voice is the one that drags us over the coals for the blunders we have made.

If we have the courage to really step back and listen to this voice as if it is someone we are sitting down with having coffee, we would begin to notice that frequently it is a very critical voice. It cruelly takes us to task about who we are and what we do.

Can we really call this voice a friend? Friends love us, support us, and say encouraging words. They remind us of our strengths.  Does the voice really “have our back”?  In my experience, no.  Why do I listen then?  Because I always have.

That is the addiction.

One of the most life-changing realizations I have made during my years reading books on recovery, spirituality, and spiritual psychology—and the one that was so tough for me to grasp—was simply this: we are not our thoughts, we are not our behaviors, and we are not the roles we play. These are things we do. They are not who we are.

But there is a part of us that is at the core of our being. It is that part of us that has remained the same from the time were in diapers, from the time we were children, from the time we were in middle school and high school, and throughout the entire span of our adult lives.   In spiritual terms, this is the soul.

The soul has a voice. It is often called the “small voice” within us.  The reason it is small is because we have allowed the cacophony of voices of our social conditioning to dominate it.

The soul-voice is the one that is who we really are. It is our essence.  And it truly is our most loving friend.

In order to hear it, we must no longer identify ourselves with the critical voice. We must step back from it, again recognizing it as the composite voice of our parents and caretakers.  Experts call this taking the “witness-observer” position.

Being able to assume this position will dramatically change the way that you respond to life and all the people who make up your life.

With practice it becomes easier to dispel the noise of the critical voice and to hear the small voice within. Just take a few moments every day to sit in stillness.  Visualize stepping back away from the critical voice you are hearing like backing away from another person.  Remain still and listen.  See if you can’t begin to hear the loving and compassionate of your small inner voice.

It is there, and it is the voice of self-compassion, love, and acceptance.

It is the voice of your true Self.

I would love to hear your personal experiences doing this. Your comments are welcome!

Seven Benefits of Loneliness

Loneliness needs to be celebrated.   We are all familiar with the pang of loneliness, but few of us are aware of its perks.  Despite the stigma associated with loneliness, it may be one of the greatest contributors to creativity, productivity, spirituality, empathy, and, paradoxically, to relationship building.

Some of history’s most admired figures— Leonardo di Vinci, Shakespeare, Jesus—would be seen as lonely in today’s terms. “Language…has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone,” according to Theologian Paul Tillich, who sees the duality of being alone.

Our Growing Sense of Loneliness

As a nation, we appear to be getting lonelier. Ironically, as we have become more and more connected through social media, the lonelier we have become.  The latest Census figures show that 31 million Americans are living alone, which accounts for nearly 10 percent of the US population and one quarter of all US households.

And recent studies reveal that chronic loneliness has increased dramatically over the last decades. In the 1970s and 1980s, the percentage of Americans who regularly felt lonely was between 11- 20 percent. By 2010, it had increased to 40 – 45 percent, according to a nationally representative study by the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP).

A 2016 Harris Poll found that 72 percent of Americans admit to feeling lonely at least once a week.

Whether it is chronic or occasional, most people feel the pang of loneliness. Social scientists believe that part of people’s painful reactions to loneliness is due to the social stigma that modern psychology has attached to it. Those who suffer from loneliness often see themselves as social defectives.

Solitude is loneliness’ happier cousin

Although both describe a state of being alone, the difference between loneliness and solitude is choice. When people make the conscious choice to be alone, they experience solitude. When being alone is not a choice, people experience loneliness.   Loneliness implies an undesirable state whereas solitude suggests a desirable one.

As you know from my previous blogs, I see relationships with others as being one of the most crucial facets of life. As human beings, we are built for relationships. They have the power to make us more emotionally mature, revealing to us our blind spots and the areas in our life where we have problems giving or receiving love.

Yet, psychologists are also realizing the need for time alone to nourish a balanced life. Twitter, Facebook, and SnapChat are wonderful for social snacking, but we need the nourishment of solitude in order to sustain a healthy lifestyle, which includes the demands of work, family, and friendships.

Here’s why:

The Benefits of Solitude

  1. Solitude can infuse relationships with freshness.   Time alone from loved ones spent reading, playing music, completing projects, or exploring new ideas can breathe fresh life into a tired relationship.

 

  1. Solitude allows us to recharge our batteries. This is truer for introverts than extroverts, but everyone needs time alone with their thoughts and feelings.

 

  1. Solitude provides us with the focus to problem solve. The corporate model of teaming can increase productivity, but it comes at a cost for those who may feel marginalized. This outside or minority voice is often silenced when it would appear to go against the prevailing grain of group thinking.

 

  1. Solitude fosters productivity. There are vocations that require time alone. Artists, writers, musicians, and others require solitude in order to create.

 

  1. Solitude is especially important for teens. They need time alone from self-consciousness and peer pressure to develop their own sense of personal identity.

 

  1. Solitude deepens our desire for connectedness with others. Although this seems paradoxical, we need time alone in order to greater cherish the time we have with loved ones.

 

  1. Solitude gives us the inner space to improve our conscious contact with God.   Prayer and meditation require freedom from distractions.

 

If we can recognize that being alone is a part of a balanced life, maybe we could shift our perspective on loneliness. When we become aware that being alone is not always the personal crisis that we were taught to believe, then we can embrace our loneliness, dispel some of the negative emotions associated with it, and see it for the benefits it can bring to us. In fact, if we apply its benefits, loneliness may even become a friend. Then loneliness becomes solitude.

Five Ways to Help a Friend Through Tough Times

“As much as I would like to help my friend through this crisis, I’ll probably just make it worse.” This is what I would tell myself years ago. I felt very uncomfortable about reaching out to my friends who were experiencing a rough patch in life.  It was not because I didn’t care.  It was more about a lack of confidence in my ability to be truly helpful.

Then I went through a series of crises of my own that made me aware of what I needed from friends and family to weather those storms.   I learned that just the presence of a friend provided a great deal of relief.  So I returned the favor and showed up for my friends and family who were struggling.

Through applying the skills of those who helped me, through the wisdom of relationship experts, and through practice, I have come up with five very effective ways to help a friend or family member through tough times.

  • Become aware of the signs of crisis. An article in the American Psychological Association says that one of the most common signs of an emotional crisis is a friend of family member’s abrupt change in behavior.  This includes: neglect of personal hygiene, pronounced changes in mood, weight gain or loss, isolation, and an upsurge in negativity.
  • Reach out. Just a phone call or a visit—anything that makes you present for another—can work wonders. Simply saying, “You don’t seem to be yourself lately, do you want to talk?” is a great way to get the other person to open up.
  • Listen rather than fix. This is especially difficult for males since we have been socialized to fix things. The idea here is to let the person empty his or her heart.  Even if it is obvious to us that the person’s suffering is due to misconceptions or misperceptions, let the person vent.  Listen and avoid judging or interrupting. Sometime later, if the person is interested, you can help with the distorted thinking.
  • Offer to help with routine tasks. Although this may not seem to be especially helpful in relieving another’s distress, it is often these very tangible gestures that send the message that you really care.  Things like preparing a meal, running errands for the person, or mowing the lawn all reduce another’s suffering.
  • Be patient. You may need to hear the person’s story again and again.  It takes time to clear the emotional pipes. If the clouds have not passed in a few weeks, sit down with that person and kindly suggest professional help.  Providing your friend of family member with the phone number of an established professional can eliminate one obstacle to treatment.

If you suspect that a loved one is suffering or in crisis, don’t hesitate to reach out.  By integrating these simple skills, you can be a healing presence for that person.  It’s in simple gestures that your deep caring is expressed.  As spiritual teacher Ram Dass says, “We’re all just walking each other home.”

What do you do to help a friend in crisis?  Please share what you have found to be really effective so we can all become better able to help those in our lives who are suffering.

20 Ways to Move from Loneliness to Friendship

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I’m not good with people.  I’m too shy.  I’ve got nothing to offer.  I’m not a people person. Sound familiar?

Regardless of our age, we have probably suffered a few of these thoughts. But take comfort. You are not alone in this thinking.

A whopping 72 percent of Americans admit to loneliness, according to a survey done by the Harris Poll in 2016.

Personally, I was shocked to read that statistic. Then again, since leaving the super social world of public school teaching, I have felt the pangs of loneliness. The truth is that so often in jobs that require us to be around many people, we confuse quantity with quality of relationships. Whether we are younger or older, many of these relationships quickly fall away after we leave our current job. Often this is because we don’t socialize with our colleagues outside the bonds of work.

Our story is not unusual, as relationship experts tell us: “After 30, people often experience internal shifts in how they approach friendship. Self-discovery gives way to self-knowledge, so you become pickier about whom you surround yourself with,” says Marla Paul in her book The Friendship Crisis: Finding, Making, and Keeping Friends When You’re Not a Kid Anymore.

We must push and prod ourselves, regardless of our age, to seek out others. This is especially true when our children have left, and we feel the emptiness of our home. Start this process of seeking out others with compassionate self-honesty.

Right now, journal your thoughts about what relationship baggage you are carrying.  Everybody has some.  When we become aware of these things, we become more connected to ourselves.  And self-connection is necessary for connection to others.

After you have done this, inventory your passions.  Margaret Manning, writing for the Huffington Post, says to “chase your passions, not people.”  Operate from a position of strength, not weakness.  Know what fires your passions and then get involved with others whose passions you share, she says.  This way we meet people on an “equal footing.”

This next step requires courage and may be the reason why our lives are filled with acquaintances but not friends.   We have to move from being around others to “inviting others in” as Manning says.  We need to initiate, inviting people to join us for dinner or to attend an event or to participate in a project.  If we play it safe and wait for others to act, we will be waiting a long time.

“Become a joiner,” says speaker and workshop presenter Dr. Kathy Jordan. Many people say that they “don’t join groups.”  Her recommendation: “Accept your discomfort, and do it anyway.”

The good news! According to Diane Cole, of The Wall Street Journal, there are “a surge of people” who are “not only eager to make friends and develop relationships, they’re actively pursuing these social interactions.”

Places to meet people regardless of your age:

  1. Take a class at your neighborhood rec center.
  2. Form a book club—even if it’s only you and another person.
  3. Join a church or take a meditation or yoga class
  4. Join a support group: tackle your fear and get the help that you need to overcome an addiction.
  5. Travel.
  6. Check out Meetup.com. You may be surprised to find that there are others who share your passion who are already meeting together.
  7. Volunteer at a shelter.
  8. Join a non-profit.
  9. Invite people over for dinner. If you’re not a great cook, make it a potluck.
  10. Neighbors: Invite one of them to do something and move from acquaintance to friendship.
  11. Join an online forum: this may lead to meeting other people.
  12. Head to the dog park.
  13. Attend conferences, especially those that involve an overnight commitment.
  14. Join a hobby group.
  15. Facebook: make a play date.
  16. ManKind Project: work on self-improvement with men who are seeking the same.
  17. Join a gym: workout and join a class there.
  18. Work on your landscaping in the front yard. Passersby are always curious.
  19. Tours: go on a group tour.
  20. Take walks on public trails. Start a conversation with a fellow walker.

Your efforts to “put yourself out there” will pay big dividends. Remember, that you need to be seen to be known.  So make the commitment to engage with others, and you will find the vital freshness that new friends can bring to your life.

I welcome any of your ideas or suggestions about how to move from loneliness to friendship.

 

 

 

10 Reasons to Get Off Your Relationship Badonkadonk

When I was drinking, I would often discount the importance of relationships.  In recovery, I now know why.  I wasn’t good at them.

Relationships are one of the most crucial parts of our lives. We are built for relationship, and we need them to thrive.

Everything is relational.  Nothing exists in isolation.   Look at nature.   The tree that I see from my window has a relationship to the air, to the sun, to the soil, and to itself.  How much more is true for us as complex human beings?

In previous posts, I have shared my own experiences and the wisdom of relationship experts.  Relationships are so critically important that I ask you to put down all the baggage you’re carrying from past relationships so that you can open the door to new possibilities.

Past hurts and fear of rejection can immobilize us.  We often, then, resort to our default setting of isolation, preferring loneliness to the fear of engaging.

Here is a list of the benefits of friendships and partnership.  I provide these in hopes that you will summon the courage to put your fear in the backseat and get out there and live the life that is waiting for you:

  • Relationships satisfy our need for connection.
  • Relationships are the greatest catalyst for growth.
  • Relationships enable us to better give and receive love.
  • Relationships bring fresh perspectives to our lives.
  • Relationships open us to new experiences.
  • Relationships help us see our blind spots.
  • Relationships provide support.
  • Relationships make us better at relationships.
  • Relationships deepen our understanding of ourselves.
  • Relationships are fun,  dammit!                                                                                                                                   Next time, I’ll share about ways to meet other people so that you start enjoying the benefits listed above.

The Transformational Power of Relationships

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In the previous blog I mentioned that painful experiences will repeat themselves until we drill down to the root of the problem.  Even after our 12-Step work, one of the common categories of pain that we alcoholics and addicts still experience is relationships.  Jacquelyn Small, author of Becoming Naturally Therapeutic, says, “The alcoholic is terribly deficient in the area of intimate relationships—a deficiency that is both a cause and an effect of his drinking” (63).

Both the Big Book and the 12 x 12 say that relationships bring us continuous and recurring trouble.   Why is this?  As alcoholics and addicts, we became masters at avoiding life’s essential pain.  Pain is the greatest catalyst for change. Yet, when we continually used alcohol or drugs to numb us from pain, we cheated ourselves of the spiritual and emotional power of pain to spur our growth.  Maturity is the product of facing pain, not avoiding it.

Relationship experts like Guy Finley say that our interactions with life and with others cannot be any deeper or satisfying than the understanding we have of ourselves.  I remember a fellow AA asking a sponsee who said he wanted to kill himself, “Why would you want to kill someone you don’t even know?” We laughed at this, but the truth stung each of us.  Remember all the times we used isolation to keep us feeling safe?  Unfortunately, it isolated us from understanding who we are. And if we don’t understand ourselves, how are we to understand others? It’s little wonder we are ill-equipped to sustain long-lasting relationships.

It may seem paradoxical that the very thing that creates pain—relationships—is the doorway out of our pain.   Finley says that relationships are literally a mirror.  In them we can see how we are playing in the world.  Relationships can rid us of the blind spots that have sabotaged all of our relationships. “Until we are conscious of [our issues],” Finley says, “they control our actions and reactions.” So self-awareness through relationships provides the best chance we have to grow and develop.

I encourage all of us to seek out relationships with others.  Let us use that same transformational desperation that brought us to the rooms of AA to decommission the defenses that we have employed to build walls between ourselves and others.  Let us be intrepid in our desire to connect with others on a deeper level.  And let us dare to remain vulnerable to ourselves and others even when it comes at a terrible cost to our pride.

In the next blog, I will provide more wisdom from relationship experts

 

Recurring Painful Experiences

 

One of the greatest spiritual truths I have learned after the 12 Steps is that we will repeatedly experience the same painful situations until we drill down to the root of the problem.

If you are like me, you know that we often see the small stuff we need to work on, yet we remain blind to the big stuff.

Even after eight years of AA, I had not come to terms with my unhappiness with life. I was unaware that my greatest battle was with life itself. Like some Roman gladiator armed with a mace, I swung at life believing I could stand unscathed from its inevitable pain.

Only after learning the futility of trying to control life and learning instead to surrender to it did I finally grasp the Big Book principle of accepting “life on life’s terms.” How foolish I felt not practicing this truth after my 12-step work with my sponsor and then with my sponsees. And I missed the essence of the Serenity Prayer that I had been dutifully reciting with my fellow AAs for years at the opening of meetings. “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change” is ultimately about accepting life as it is.

I realized that I had still been investing my time and energy in an attempt to fix all the externals in my life—my wife, my home, my colleagues, my friends—so that I could feel more comfortable with my everyday life. I failed to understand that the only way I was going to experience true happiness was “to have the courage to change the things I can.” What can I change? Not other people, but only myself. But how? By asking God to allow me to see the things within myself that needed to be changed.

With the same courage it took to complete my 4th Step years ago, I plunged into a “searching and fearless” inventory of all my thoughts and behaviors that repeatedly sabotaged my relationships with other people.

God is a wonderful teacher who won’t allow us to go on to the next lesson in life without learning from the lesson at hand. When we don’t learn the lesson, God keeps offering it in a different context. The entire cast of characters changes, but the same pain keeps recurring. Only when I stopped and looked deeply within to the core of each problem did I experience transcendence from the problem and the pain associated with it. In the next blog, I will focus on why relationships are so crucial for our spiritual growth and why they are so difficult for us AAs.

My Story

rjhandley.com

It was nearly 10 years ago that a Big Book quote came true for me: “Someday the [alcoholic] will be unable to imagine life with alcohol or without it.  Then he will know loneliness such as few do” (BB 152).

It may have seemed to others that my life was like a Lexus, but inside I was really a rusted out AMC Pacer.  I was on the brink of bankruptcy after my business partner lost all our working capital in the stock market. My reaction was to descend deeper into abyss of my drinking.

I was literally a fall down drunk. Despite tearing my rotator cuff and then later breaking seven ribs in two drunken falls, I was too prideful to seek out AA for the help I desperately needed.  Although I knew I was an alcoholic, I could not tolerate the stigma of being labeled one.

With my wife set on leaving me, my friends having abandoned me, and my credit card debt reaching $60,000, I lived a life of loneliness and despair that few non-alcoholics experience.  In agony, I finally reached out to my alcoholic sister who encouraged me to attend an AA meeting.  It is through AA and the grace of God that I got sober and remain so after 10 years.

So this blog is really my way of giving back to a program that literally saved my life.  Like many of you, the 12 Steps were my portal into a spiritual awakening.   Sponsorship keeps me involved in the program, but I continue to hunger for more inspired texts like the Big Book to nourish my spiritual growth.   I have read many, and a year and a half ago I went back to school to become a Spiritual Life Coach.  Through this blog, I hope that I can share some of the spiritual truths that have brought a wonderful sense of joy and contentedness to my life.