The gap between my “idea” and my reality overwhelms me.

“Where I want to be” vs. “Where I am.” - “Who I want to be be” vs. “Who I am,” and all the other “want-to-be” areas of my life –  money, giving, service, family, etc.

Today, whether I feel like it or not, I choose to believe the God of my understanding fills in that gap, and is helping me build and progess.   Today I also choose to give myself permission to enjoy the process.

I fail often.

Do you?

It hurts.

I hurt other people I don’t want to hurt when I fail.  Do you…

I used to think powerlessness over my addiction (drugs-crack), meant that I was powerless after I took the first hit.  Today, to me, it mean I’m powerless not to take the first hit, unless I take action to prevent it.  Though I accept mentally, the concept of addiction, the truth is, inside I resent having to do the things I have to do to stay clean.  I resent having to do them.  I resent their redundance.  I resent the time they take - and the energy.  Sometimes I get tired of doing them and before I can really reap the benefits,…

“Caliente!”

Absolutely an understatement I thought as I nodded my head in the direction of my latin co-worker. Even hotter for me, four days out of the crack pipe. The hard work feels good, gives purpose to my day and helps me live in the moment. Trying not to fall off the scaffold, read a measurement accurately, cut, drill, etc., at an acceptable rate and quality of work keeps my head out of my empty pocket.

The structure. The relationships. The patterns. The accountability. All these elements coagulate somehow at long last to grant me opportunity to get clean and, most importantly,…

Effort/Results

Cause/Effect

Action/Consequence

Seed/Harvest

Persevere in the process

Waiting is an action.

When you don’t know what to do… be still

Time-Takes-Takes-Takes-Takes

In the street I could “bust-a-move.” In the street I could “make” something happen to get what I wanted. Though often active addiction became a waiting game, you usually knew what or who or why you waited. You might be waiting on the man. You might be waiting on your dealer to re-up.

You might be waiting on the right person to hustle, like a lion in the grass, waiting on that lame antelope to come to the watering hole. Always, when you waited, you got the…

Fear. Fear. Fear. “A thousand forms of fear.” “Fear of impending doom.”

Fear breathes. Fear walks. Fear stands outside my window with its nasty nose pressed to the glass, vapor fogging the pane, obscuring my view. Sometimes I can’t hear for the whisper…the voice…the yelling…the screaming…the brass chaotic band that drowns my stillness and tidal waves my peace, my perceptions, my plans.

Fear is real. Fear is imagined. Fear, so much my constant companion…so long my constant companion that in those eye-of-the-hurricane moments, or respite, like the naked, wet survivor of the ship wreck washed upon the shore, spent empty, shocked and…