We’ve heard over the last little while, what one needs to do to get sober, and then stay sober. One of my friends tonight said that when he came in, a few years before me, that at that time, he was so tired and burned, and mentally empty, that he had to just chill out for a while, and allow the message to seep into his addled brain.
After a little while, and going to meetings, he began to get involved a little deeper. At a particular business meeting, he was not sure about taking a service position, and an old timer looked at him and asked, “Why did you not take a position?” He did not have an answer. She then said to him:
WELL YOU ARE JUST A TAKER.
That really riled him up to the point where, Fuck You could be heard within his head. For a while he ruminated over that judgment. But not long after he decided he should bite the bullet and get active.
When I came in in 2001, I was just as tired and my brain was mush. Thank God I could go to the same meeting, seven nights a week, in the same location, at the same time, a 10 pm meeting, not far from home. A walkable distance.
For months, I sat in those meetings, and listened to people read me the books, because each night was a different presentation. So at least I was sober, albeit, a little bit, and I was hearing the Big Book being read to me.
When I moved to Montreal and got situated at Tuesday Beginners, I’d been going to meetings all over the island, and met my next sponsor. At eleven months I was ready to engage, and I asked about step work of him, and his response was “well I don’t do step work.” Much to my surprise.
He did not remain my sponsor very long afterwards. And that man eventually drank again.
My next sponsor bought me a fourth edition Big Book, and got me involved in my first seventeen week Big Book Study. One of many to follow.
Over the years, I’ve read the entire book, cover to cover, five times in as many years. A full read cover to cover, in a meeting setting, takes about fourteen months in total.
I did my last round last summer into the fall. And I hit Big Book meetings, and a Step/Traditions meeting as well. So I am reading both texts during the week, and dong step work in the Twelve and Twelve meeting on Wednesday nights. I’ve got anew sponsor now, and that is working for me.
Thursday night, we heard an old timer speak truth. He said that if you come in and you don’t stay, then you just Keep Coming Back, until it sticks. He also said that at some point warming a chair becomes useless, at some point you are going to have to start reading the Book, and doing the work.
Because once we stop drinking, the reason why we drank was a lack of power. And in sobriety, lack of power can be our downfall, unless we do the work necessary to change that trend to find a Power Greater than Ourselves to help us make sense of sobriety.
He also said, to those of us with some time and experience, that if we are further up the pike than others, and we have something that works, a method, a path, a way to really step up your game, then it falls to us to share that with somebody else, and not put our lamps under a bushel basket, to use a biblical analogy.
I’ve been talking to a new young person as of late, because we hit the same meetings, and he has a little light, and is receptive about The Work and The Book. So we’ve been talking over coffee and before meetings as of last week.
A few nights ago, I presented him with a sobriety challenge, since he was so keen to share about the book and how important to the book and work was to him.
After following Bob’s Three, Seven, Eleven shuffle … The prayers right out of the book, in steps three, seven and eleven, that changed my life in spades a few years ago, the very same shuffle I still do to this day, I gave him this very same plan. Bought him a journal for his tenth step inventory, and directed him to a You Tube Video of Lorna talking about Nikos Kazanzatkis when he says that:
TO ALWAYS CHOOSE THE SURE THING IS TREASON FOR THE SOUL.
Bob says that if you don’t pray, then why not, because every time you pray, you ratchet up your spiritual life and your sobriety. He said that if I prayed my life would change, and I believed him and I did what he told me to do, without fail or complaint.
MY LIFE DID CHANGE IN SPADES.
If you are always going to the easy path, and not stepping out of your comfort zone and reaching for the Brass Ring, then why bother, you are not going to learn anything new or see something new in sobriety.
I had it all written out on index cards. With the journal, and the step work.
When I asked him about his prayer life, he said he had one, but it was the easy out. He did not prescribe to the book. So I asked him for thirty days to do the Shuffle with me.
Oh, I don’t pray. I don’t do God. And I don’t do what the Big Book says, even though we talked over the last month about:
PEOPLE WHO GO TO BIG BOOK MEETINGS AND READ THE BIG BOOK, USUALLY DO WHAT THE BIG BOOK SAYS…
It was obvious my sober young man, is not one of those people.
On Thursday he came to the meeting and avoided me he did not say one word to me or come over to greet me either. Tonight, he skipped the meeting all together.
It was obvious to me that I was barking up the wrong tree, and that I was wasting my time. And I should just let this lie for now.
So you see … If you cannot step out of your comfort zone and push your program forward and you rest on the time you have and you don’t expand your horizons in sobriety, then you are JUST WARMING A CHAIR.
Going to meetings can carry you only so far. At some point, you will have to get off your ass and do something concrete, or you will turn and isolate, stop going to meetings, rest on your laurels:
AND DRINK AGAIN.
I know a certain path that works for me, that guarantees me not to drink on a daily basis. I know it works, because I am working on eighteen years this year, and I haven’t had a drink in all that time.
And when I challenge people with something new that I think can help someone get farther up that road …
The month of July, this year, has been a month of reflection and thought. It is like I have been working through a personal inventory of myself, and what I have learned about myself. My good points, and my bad points.
I have a particular Gay experience to draw upon. I have said, in the past that, things were not so easy, in the very beginning.
Living with AIDS, was not easy. Watching other people CRACK UP in front of me and my friends was disturbing. Loosing everyone, I thought would be in my corner, was a terrible by product of getting sick.
Ignorance was rife …
I learned early on after that, that it was not so important what people SAID, what was more important what people DID.
Living on the edge of society, well under the poverty level, procuring services that decided life or death, was paramount. I learned what were Cast Iron Panties, and how to put on those Cast Iron Panties very early on.
Several times I actually had to use them. Let me tell you that, if you said you’d do something I needed, on any level, and you failed to do that thing …
Hell hath no fury like an AIDS sick man.
A very TRUE STORY…
Back in the late nineties, after I got sick, for years, I had tried to get disability Insurance from the Government and I failed several times.
At the last, I stopped taking my medication for a month, I did not shower, or change my clothes, once. About a month in, I had a disability appointment with someone who could sign off on my application and grant me much needed financial support.
He, in the past, denied me that financial support.
So unwashed, sick and dirty, I walked into his office and sat down in front of him. He started talking to me. I took a deep breath and I coughed on him.
He stopped talking right then and there, and signed that application with not a further word of argument.
True Story …
You learned the character of the people around you, by their words, and indeed their actions. This piece of advice still applies today.
I know how alcoholics treated me when I came into the program twenty five years ago. Had that experience been more positive and supportive, this year I would have reached twenty five years sober.
Alas, that was not my experience.
Todd knew more about humility, honesty, and love, than any man or woman I know, to this very day.
Had he not stepped in and took me into his orbit, and taught me all the lessons he had, I would have surely died.
I spoke about this tonight, in my Step Group Study. In this meeting are a handful of LONG SOBER men whom I like and trust.
When I returned to the rooms in 2001, it was people who first hugged me and welcomed me into the SOBE room. They really cared about me, and that meant the world to me, and kept me IN the Room.
When I moved to Montreal, I looked for those same attributes in the people I met when I first arrived. In the first little while good people were Hit and Miss.
When I found the group I would HOME in for twelve years, the way I got sober and stayed sober, was by watching everyone else around me. I listened to them talk, lots of talk. I watched them make decisions, good and bad.
Most importantly, I paid attention to my friends who drank again, and again, and again.
I stuck and stayed while masses of people were drinking again.
I knew what NOT to do. I knew who to avoid, and who to stay away from.
Alcoholics are fallible people, we know this. Bill said as much in many of his talks before General Conference Meetings, for years.
None of us are perfect, none of us are better than another. Least of all ME.
Many years ago, I entertained a long sober man and asked him to sponsor me. An NDG man. For all intents and purposes, I stay away from NDG Men.
Why you ask ? I’m Gay.
Nothing turns my stomach quicker than a heterosexual man who needs to talk to hear himself talk, the pussy loving, hockey fan, who just has that air of heterosexuality about him. Men who overcompensate for being straight. Pissing contests are usual. And the size of their penises.
For a few years, I hung out with these men, because they were sober longer than I was, then. I did not go to their meetings, BUT I did attend several Twelve Step Retreats in Vermont with these men.
Imagine being the only queer banana in a car, driving to Vermont with overcompensating heterosexual men.
God give me strength.
At the very first group meeting, at the very first retreat I was at, in Vermont, I came out to the group of men. Because I was the only queer member in that group, for several retreats.
I quote …”Oh we accept you and we love you and we want to be your friend.”
That was all well and good. All that changed when we hit our first communal meal together.
I went through the buffet, got my food, and found a seat at an open table. I sat down, and I waited. And I watched.
I watched every single man, who said they accepted me among them, grab their own food, walk by my table, and sit somewhere else, not one of these men chose to break bread with me.
This happened at every retreat I was at, over and over.
Right then and there, the nails in their coffins were hammered.
Some time would pass, and my NDG sponsor having witnessed the worst painful experience I had ever experienced in Sobriety, spoke to me and he humiliated me in front of our group.
I swore I would never share space with any of those men ever again.
After the shooting at the Pulse Club in Orlando, I was devastated. Because as a kid in my twenties, I drank in that building too. I knew the story of the kid who did the shooting. I knew that he scoped out both Pulse and the Parliament House, where I had my Coming Out Experience.
I wanted to drink so bad. But I knew I could not.
I turned to meetings to save me. Most importantly, a Big Book Reading Meeting. I knew that if I read the BIG Book through, I would NOT DRINK.
There were 45 men and women in that meeting. All the Queer men in the program on the English side, ALL OF THEM, sat in this meeting.
I was a wreck for eighteen months. Emotionally and mentally.
Not One Man or Woman, GAY or STRAIGHT wanted to know me. Not one of those men or women said one single word to me, personally, at any time, before or after any of those meetings over eighteen months.
Not One Alcoholic said those words to me… “I Know How You Feel, Let Me Tell You How I Dealt With That.” NOT ONE !!!
I’ve NEVER heard those words come out of ANY sober mouth, in all the years I have been sober, EXCEPT from Lorna Kelly who came from New York to speak at a Round Up. She spoke those words in front of everybody.
I think I was the only who who heard her. To This Day.
And in the end one of those queers, who read the same book I did, got to the last chapter of the Big Book, and we read HOW to stay SOBER and NEVER drink again, HE DRANK AGAIN.
Because he IS constitutionally incapable of being honest with himself.
Now I am not, in any way, stating that I am better than anyone else, but I do know the work I have done in as many years to stay sober. I know every man and woman who participated in my sobriety TO DATE.
Todd taught me about My Place in the World and in the Universe. I know my place in the world. I know, that as long as I serve others, to the best of my ability, I can maintain some semblance of humility.
I commented tonight, at the meeting that last night, I had a visceral reaction to some folks who came into the meeting last night.
I just don’t have any desire to be friendly with some of my heterosexual counterparts, because of the way they treated me over the years. They walk in the meeting and announce their presence, and I’m just like:
SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SIT DOWN.
I was SO uncomfortable sitting in my chair, that at one point, before the meeting, that I actually got up, and walked outside, to sit with my friends who were hanging out, outside the church on one of the benches.
I had no desire to sit there and listen to people I have no desire to want anything that they have. I stayed sober, by watching and listening to everybody else. That may be a good thing, or a bad thing.
I am a Gay man who survived AIDS.
So I am a bit more judgmental of people, in a way that other queer men are not. Not that there are NO QUEER men in the rooms who want to be my friend, so when we sit in the same room, they have nothing to say to me and I don’t have anything to say to them either.
I know who my friends are, and who I take solace from, and those men and women who contribute to my sobriety.
It just struck me odd last night, that I had that kind of reaction sitting in a room, I regularly sit in on a weekly basis. And I brought that up with my old timer friends tonight at the step meeting.
People are not apt to speak to me about anything I say in meetings, and old timers rather keep to themselves, and they don’t usually offer counsel, or criticism, or tell me to just shut the fuck up and listen.
I find that odd. That people won’t call you out, or say anything when we share in meetings. It’s like I am having this particular sober experience, and nobody is playing pin ball with me, there are no bumpers on the side, banging me back into play.
It’s like I am running on my own.
If I don’t ask someone directly for advice, nobody offers advice.
I listen to a very small number of sober folks today. I hear a lot of talking, but most of it goes in one ear and out the other, because why waste mental space on people who don’t have anything I want, RIGHT?
For a very long time, I was not sure I had anything to offer the public, in the way of working with others. I stuck close to service. I made a lot of coffee, and have at least two church keys on my key ring today. I am an opener of meetings, a setter upper, a greeter and an all around welcome wagon to several meetings across town today.
Twelve years would pass, before I hit the presentation of THE WORK. Twelve years of running by the book in service, presence, and sharing when appropriate. Still, I was not sure, that I had anything to give away, which helped me, in retrospect, hone my skills at listening attentively, feeling compassion, empathy, and gratitude.
Until the time came when I heard the message I needed to hear, from the right person to change my life and my sobriety.
Lorna warns us of the fragility of people with “Time” in the rooms, not necessarily the newcomer, per se. She says that “Those are the people we should pay close attention to.” For certain reasons, I don’t need to elaborate right now.
Bob, another member who came here in 2012, to the West Island Round Up, the same event Lorna attended too. It was Bob who turned me on to THE WORK, (i.e. the Big Book), and Prayer, (i.e. the 3, 7, 11 shuffle). He told the crowd of people gathered there all this same information. Nobody listened to him.
I, on the other hand, went to him, after his talk and inquired about how to make all this work. He told me what to do. I went home, and did exactly as he said to do. I wrote down the 3rd, 7th, and 11th step prayers, and laminated them and put them on my computer.
And I prayed every day, several times a day, for as long as it took to change my life. Because he told us that if we did pray, and in time, we would become spiritually fit and then the universe (read: God) would order things as He saw fit.
That took about seven months of fervent prayer, not always perfect, but I did my best to pray, honestly and humbly.
One Tuesday night I was sitting in a meeting, and about halfway through my phone rang … very out of the ordinary. Who would be calling me, I had no idea. Nonetheless, I stepped outside and answered the call.
A good thing too.
On the other end was a hysterical young person, who got my number from who, I don’t know, but he called me. That was the day I had something to offer another human being in the program.
That sparked a series of life events that changed the course of my sobriety.
Today I sponsor a few men and women. I have worked my steps. Several times. I’ve read the Big Book through from cover to cover, four times in six years. I finished my last round of steps last fall, with a young person I really wanted what they had. That was a good thing.
A Vision for You says … “Obviously, you cannot transmit something you haven’t got …” It took me a long time to trust that I had something to give away, and we don’t know that we’ve even got it ourselves, Lorna is apt to say, “Until we give it away.”
This afternoon, Wednesday, I made a couple of phone calls, and asked my Ladies Calvary to help me with our girls. Right now, everyone will be looked after over the coming days. And I was assured that everyone would be taken care of.
It is always a shock for our new guys and gals to be sober a short while, most under two years, for them to witness someone with serious time under their belts drink again. But I am assured that my girls will be alright. My ladies are on the case.
Most people in recovery know what the word “powerlessness” means.
Some choose to learn the definition, others hang on for dear life to whatever it is they are holding guard over, until they can’t bear that pain any longer … Then they reach the jumping off point.
I watch people, I listen to them talk, and I wait to see what decision they are going to make, either to buckle down and do what needs to be done, or they choose to jump back into the canyon where there is no light.
The fellowship offers to us a tool kit, to build a ladder out of that canyon into a life what will be fruitful and prosperous. But the pain it might take to get to freedom from alcohol and drugs seems so arduous, that they just cannot bear the pain of sobriety, so they resort to the pain of addiction to soothe the pain of honest pursuit of sobriety.
Our kids are suffering. And I don’t know what to do about this ! They all know me, and have seen me in action for a long time. I have engaged many of them in conversation, I give them jobs at meetings, I support them and show them nothing but kindness.
Yet, still, they are miserable. There is nothing I can do for someone who chooses to live in misery and active addition. I can’t save all the kids I know, right now, who are suffering needlessly.
Women with time, who sponsored many of our latest crop of young ladies, have drank again. Recently. All my girls are besides themselves with grief and sorrow, anger and resentment, and then forgiveness.
Our LGBTQ kids are suffering as well. Because the spectrum of sexual identity has broadened into this amalgamation of “what ever you want to be today” has reared its ugly head.
Do you know what it is like knowing that you have kids on this spectrum, girls that want to be boys, boys who want to be girls, trans kids in the middle of transition, or at different stages of the game, who drink and drug, because they cannot bear the pain they are in right now ?
Not many straight alcoholics in the rooms know what to do with a kid on the spectrum. Most old timers will tell you that sexual orientation is not their responsibility. Some old timers will not even deal with kids on the spectrum, and a good number of them don’t do Gay either.
My kids are suffering. I know this for a fact. I know how many kids are on this sliding scale right now, some are sober, and some are not. I’ve had experience in dealing with trans issues, because over the years I have tried to help our kids, whomever they are, which ever direction they are traveling.
The pendulum is swinging widely and quickly. And a good number of my kids are struggling to keep it together. And I don’t know what to do, besides sitting each one of them down and read them the riot act, and give them a plan, like they would listen to anything I have to say to them.
But you know what the book says … “THE ALCOHOLIC WILL DRINK AGAIN.”
I’ve been watching my kids come and go, and come and go. Whom ever they are talking to, has failed in keeping them sober. One, because they lack the tools to do the job, OR, those sponsors have drank again.
Which does not help our kids stability. You take on a kid who needs help staying sober, then you go off and drink again !! What the FUCK !!!
I’ve been watching folks with some serious time, do nothing. My peers, do nothing. They come to meetings, warm a chair, and they watch our kids crumble in front of them, and still they do nothing. Tonight, My heart broke every time I heard one of my kids tell the story they told tonight.
And I am powerless to do anything. Because nobody wants to hear what I have to say, and not many people believe anything I say, sitting in any room. But I have the time and the experience to speak truth.
People do not like the truth, I have said this before.
The I-phone generation want it NOW. They want sobriety NOW, they want happiness NOW, but they don’t want the pain or struggle to get there. They’d rather struggle in the drink rather than struggle in sobriety.
Sobriety is a struggle. Until it is not a struggle any longer.
Our kids are struggling. And they are not listening to simple advice. They are too wrapped up in their heads and their misery, to even pay attention to advice given, even if it comes from a chair, within a meeting, and not directly from a human being standing in front of them.
The rule is the girls work with the girls and the boys work with the boys! I can stand at the line and offer advice from behind my line and not cross the rule. But long sober women with time and experience ARE failing them, so what we we supposed to do, let our kids struggle until they die ?
What the Fuck am I supposed to do now ?
I wish I had the answer, I could use it right about now.
Instead of writing an entire expose of the past year, I thought I would share the first thought that made it into print, the first entry of every month of 2018. A little retrospective, of course. Enjoy !!!
January 2018 …
In 1998, at four years sober, every man I knew, at that four year mark, walked out the doors and drank and used again. Including myself.
At that time, it was the messaging, that just solidified my decision to take my life back into my own hands and go out. When an alcoholic walks up to you and says Get Out and Don’t come back … what are you supposed to do, when you figure out, your options at that point are very slim, on the ground.
February 2018 …
I wrote this letter to my Spiritual Director the other night. It is pertinent to my life today, because it reflects my growth in certain areas of my life at the moment.
I hope that things have gotten a bit better than they were a few days
ago. Sometimes it’s a bitch having to recite and accept those pesky
They might come in handy when necessary, but when they become prayer
mantras, that’s the worst, because you know, you have to totally “Turn
it over, right ?”
How many times had I heard, Stick with the Winners, and Stay until the Miracle happens, and This Too Shall Pass … UGH
March 2018 …
It has been a few days since my last update. It has been a busy time
for everybody all around. We have a family wedding in May, it will be
the first time, in many years that the entire family will be in the same
location at the same time, to celebrate my niece Melissa and her
husband to be, Stephan’s wedding.
We have watched our nieces and nephews grow up into fine young
adults. And we spoil them whenever we get the chance. Holidays are
always a big deal for our family. We will be traveling to Southern
Ontario (on the train) a first for us.
In July, one of my guys, Juan is going to marry his fiancée Nadia, in a very intimate setting here in Montreal. We’ve been working very hard at keeping them “on the beam” so to speak. Juggling school, work, wedding preparations and life, is a tall order. But, like they say, “we have a program for that!”
April 1 2018 – Easter Sunday
Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene
John 20: 11-18
Now Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
Jesus said, “Do
not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go
instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and
your Father, to my God and your God.’”
Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.
May 2018 …
Two years ago, this very week, May 1st, 2016 to be exact, Fort
McMurray, in Alberta, Western Canada was a tinder box, and went up in
flames. We covered that tragedy here on the blog. Hundreds of thousands
of people were displaced, thousands upon thousands of homes were burned
to the ground.
But, resilient as people are, Fort McMurray is on the rebound as rebuilding has been going on since the all clear was sounded.
Seasonal changes have been occurring … This is fact.
Winters have been long and arduous. The snow pack is deep, again this
year. Snow has been falling to the ground across Canada into the month
of May this year. Here in Quebec, Winter went so long, we thought it
would never end.
June 2018 …
Have you ever loved something so much, that you thought at one point,
that you would do that thing for the rest of your life ? Climb the
ladder of success, in a field/job, a sport, in music, or a trade ?
And what happens when you reach the point of success, let’s say, “going to an Olympics in Beijing as a Canadian athlete at the top of ones game.” And then having the tables turn on you, and that sport you loved, and gave it all of your heart and soul, and then that passion for the game DIES within, and alcohol becomes your best friend and companion.
July 2018 …
Staying the course, and always doing the next right thing, is good sound advice.
When the chatter in my head is running at fever pitch, and my
emotions seem to rule every decision or thought at times, I know that I
need to stop and take a break.
Read: I need to STOP and Pray !!!
Funny how things fall into my lap, when I most need them. Or, little
signs from somewhere outside of myself, seem to appear, in front of me,
at the oddest moments.
I have told the story about my I-Phones tendency to shuffle me a speaker, one speaker in particular, when I really need a talking to. It seems to know me better than I know myself at times, which begs the question … Are Our I-Phones sentient ???
August 2018 …
My birthday was the 31st of July. The morning of my birthday, when I got up and out of bed, I was still alive. I saw my doctor a couple of days before my birthday, and once again, I thanked him for keeping me alive another year.
This incarnation of my blog reached it’s First Anniversary. Thanks to
cowards and their dishonesty. People would rather eat dirt, than be
Without my doctor, where would I be right now ? I Don’t Know …
The people that mattered, celebrated my birthday, each in their own special ways.
September 2018 …
Summer is officially over. We did not Labor, over the Labor day weekend.
However good news did come.
October 2018 …
Guns, Germs and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies, by Jared Diamond
Have you ever wondered, how did we get here? Where did we come from?
Why here and Why now? Why are some countries rich, and others poor? Why
do human live where they live today, and where did the first peoples
Being an avid reader poses challenges now and then. Picking up a
substantive book, and reading it from cover to cover, requires time,
treasure and commitment. I have several substantial books in my “read”
library stack. It took me quite a while to consume Guns, Germs and
Steel. Not only does this book require time and treasure, it demands of
its reader, patience, understanding, and a desire to learn; something
that I found, was enlightening and educational.
Jared Diamond begins some 13,000 years ago, when the world was first
populated with hunter gatherers. The continents were finding their
places, ice ages, came and went. And early humans, as archeologists have
studied began to populate the earth. When oceans were shallower, and
land bridges existed, in several locations on the earth, people moved
here and there.
Indigenous peoples worldwide don’t garner very much respect from the
conquering peoples who overtook them. There were multiple indigenous
communities worldwide, before the proverbial “white man” came and either
infected them with disease, enslaved them to serve, relegated them to
reserves or killed them outright in wars and conquests.
This book is methodical in its approach to humanity. And in pain
staking detail we learn what peoples lived in prehistory. We learn where
they lived to begin with and where they moved, on the earth as time
We learn how advances in food production, disasters of germs and
disease, and the advancing industrial revolution, where guns and steel
overpower those who did not have them.
We learn that in historical times, conquest and war, dispensed with
entire groups of people. You did not only get the peoples who took up
conquest, but the people who suffered because of it. The people who were
here, before we got here, grew into some, successful communities. In
the end, those vibrant indigenous communities were laid wasted by
diseases brought by the conquerors, and the wars perpetuated in the
names of Kings, Queens or Country.
As the continents were solidified, where people lived either assisted
their success or advanced their demise. Where you lived, in relation to
the latitude of your environs, either helped you, or harmed you. The
success of peoples, farming, livestock, and growth all depended greatly,
on where you sat, on the earth, in terms of latitude and longitude.
The spread of all things necessary for life, worked well, in areas
with an expansive East – West axes. Those countries with North – South,
axes, did not fare so well, the population and spread of food, animals
and technology flourished in the Eurasian, East West Expanse of
There is a direct correlation between the location of a people, and
the environment they found themselves in. From the Equator, reaching
either North or South, temperate regions flourished. Guns, Germs and
Steel tells the story of how the world became what it has.
Time, Distance, Location and the problems associated with location
either helped peoples grow and succeed, or they took much longer to
achieve certain benchmarks in their human existence. All things moving
East – West grew faster than those things moving North – South.
Time is measured in hundreds of years, The movement of people,
goods, animals, and agriculture took TIME. And it seems that in
pre-history, time is a very important component in the building of
peoples, world wide.
Jared Diamond spins a very intricate web of story telling about Time,
Talent, and Treasure. How the world built itself, learned how to govern
itself, farm the land, produce food, and be able to store that food
over Time, and then industrialize, are very important factors in human
Guns, Germs and Steel is not a simple story, it is complex on many
levels and explains the difficulty early peoples faced, in maintaining a
home, finding food to eat, and learning the hard way, especially, “what
not to eat.”
Every continent on the earth has a particular Origin Story. Every
peoples who populate the earth, where ever that may be, also have
complex Origin Stories. This very complex but wonderful study of
humanity is one of the best books I have ever read, on the subject of
just How We Got Here !
How each continent and how each people on each continent arrived
where they did, and prospered to the level they are at today is studied
exhaustively in this text. The Origins of People, Language, Customs and
Lives and how all these things moved from one area of the world to other
areas of the world is fascinating.
No stone is left un-turned by page 444 …
Pulitzer Prize books must contain certain factors that I always look
for, IF a particular book has been awarded a Pulitzer Prize. Because I
have read a handful of winners, that turned out to be real losers.
Guns, Germs and Steel is a Winner !!!
Read This Book !
November 2018 …
I’ve been sitting on my thoughts over the last little while. Two things I try to avoid, discussion of Religion and politics. The world has so much going on, that I have opinions about, that sometimes, I think to myself, “why bother?”
December 2018 …
December 9th 2018 came and went without fanfare.
The phone only rang once all day. The Big Celebration will take place
on Friday night, at our regular Friday Night meeting. It is our
Anniversary Meeting/Christmas Party. And I will take my cake as well.
I’ve been trying to figure out where I sit in the grand scheme of
things, a little drop in the Big Ocean of the Universe. I’ve not quite
figured that out just yet, so I am still flying by the seat of my pants.
A while back I had a conversation with a friend who is at year seven
in his transition, today. Back then, amid some strife in his life, I
told him that “What people think of us is none of our business.”
Not long ago, while talking together he parroted back to me that
phrase, but he could not place where he had originally heard it. And I
said, “that was a sober thought, and it sounds like something I would
have said to you in the past. So it went.
We talked about what he calls being “Emotionally Self Sufficient.”
Not relying on others, judgments, critiques, support or not support for
us, to dictate the men and women we become.
I don’t usually worry about what people think of me, on the whole. It
used to bother me when people, in public would critique my outfits or
judge me one way or another. I kind of grew out of that insanity.
Albeit, the hard way.
It had to be purged amid a pass through my steps this past Fall.
The one thing that haunts me to this day is the nostalgic portion of
my brain that gives credence to the thought that people would grow up
and finally want to make peace, after a lifetime of vitriol and hatred.
In the back of my head I believe that every human has One Redeeming
Quality, that can overcome whatever hardness in their hearts, if only
they would find it within themselves. Alas, that has not happened.
I really cannot stomach that there are people in my life who hate me
and want nothing to do with me because I am Gay and that I chose to take
hold of my life, and go my own way, and do my own thing, and I believe,
I did a good job so far. Some people don’t get it, and fault me for
leaving a nuclear unit to break out on my own. Let’s remember that these
same people, pushed me away and out of that nuclear unit, because I was
So Fuck Me !
There are so many good things in my life today. Today was my Quit
Day, smoking cigarettes. I’ve been on Chantix for more than a week now,
and just crossed the second week dosing of higher doses of medication.
Which has seriously curbed my desire to smoke. That is a thing.
Working with others has kept me busy and on point. Trying to be the
best human I can, and teaching lessons to others, that I learned myself
many, many years ago, today. Not too many people pay attention to my
stories, but there are three men who will listen.
And when I say to them, TRUST ME … I know what I am talking about,
because it comes from a place deep within my soul. From the man who
saved my life, and said those words to me, when I needed to hear them,
and I have survived more than twenty five years now.
Hindsight is truly a gift these days.
Christmas shopping is going on. I did the bulk of my shopping on
Tuesday. I had to travel into the Village for some things. And the
central village Metro Station is closed for renovations until next June
2019. So I had to figure out how to get out of our intermodal Berri
Station, which houses several Metro lines on three levels, down into the
ground. The main Montreal bus station and all associated towers and
service offices. There are many ways out of the station, but if you take
the wrong tower exit, you end up in a particularly “other” area of town
that you actually wanted to end up in.
There is a little snow on the ground. It is unseasonably below
average cold, but it should warm up into positive numbers come the
weekend. Long range forecasts says that snow showers will fall on
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We are hosting a Christmas Dinner party
for a friend, his wife and her mom. Their Second Christmas dinner here
at our house.
It will be grand.
All in all life is good. I am still sober. And all is well.
Another successful holiday is in the books. The plans I’d spent weeks and months putting together, came to fruition. The good thing about being sober, so long, is that, we get to chose with whom we celebrate the holidays with and why.
In my experience, And I said this to one of my guys tonight, after dinner, was this … Not in the last few years, have I ever witnessed another sober human being, walk up to me and say those magic words, and they are:
“I Know How You Feel, Let Me Tell You How I Dealt With That.”
Lorna and Bob, two long sober members from New York spoke these words to us, in person, a number of years ago. There are only a few people, guys I work with, who heard these words too, because I have shared them with my guys. It was obvious, when we sat together as a Round Up Group, many folks I know, forgot those words. And I muse that, when I was in a difficult place, nobody had those words, as Lorna says are “Of Ever Lasting Life.”
There are folks, I know today, when I show up to particular meetings, out of my regular schedule, like tonight’s meeting on Christmas Night, at my old home group where I spent the first TWELVE YEARS of my sobriety, say to me, “Why don’t you call me ever?” Most people I socialize with already have my number, because I give it freely.
If I give someone my number, there is a reason I do that. So that THEY would use it, when I ask them to use it. People don’t like being told what to do, even when they tell me they are in difficulty, and they ask my advice and sit and listen to what I say in response. Usually couched in my response, if not spoken directly is this … “If you ask me for advice, and I give it freely, because I make time for all of my friends, is that you reciprocate!”
I walked into a meeting with one of my dinner guests tonight, and half a dozen people noticed what I was or wasn’t wearing. I was out of my usual choice of clothing, because I was entertaining tonight, so I went a little conservative, instead of my sporty spice look. They did not ask me how I was doing, or wish me Merry Christmas, they only wanted to comment on my outfit.
A handful of others, as I made the rounds before the meeting, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas that was sitting in the room, and shaking every hand, said to me …”Why don’t you ever call me?” My standard response came out quite easily. “If you really wanted to speak to me, you, yourself, would pick up that 2000 pound phone and use it for the purpose it was made for … To Be Used.
How much does a cell phone weigh, I ask you ?
Folks know I am reachable, 24 hours a day, and that I always answer my phone. I just don’t go out of my way, with just any alcoholic, to spend time, listening to them piss and moan. Tonight, there were a number of miserable young people sitting in the meeting. Kids, who, last year, celebrated their first sober holiday in living memory, many of them made it to year two. Because I told them, to their faces, that “if they stayed sober over last Christmas, that they indeed would stay sober.” Many of them listened to that advice and were successful. A handful did not make it. And were back for round two tonight. I watch my young people closely. I am present for all of them. I show up, so that THEY show up too.
So many people are miserable in their lives, and those people drink. There are also miserable people in sobriety, and they don’t drink. I talk to my guys often about this paradox. People stop drinking, yet they maintain their misery, like a rock around their necks.
When really … They can jettison that rock at any moment. When I say that to them, they look at me quizzically, as if to say, “Yeah Right.” You make it sound so easy. And things are easier said than done. Because folks make that conscious decision to remain miserable and sad.
We read from the Big Book and A Vision For You tonight. The portion of the passage that says at some point we come to the day that we cannot imagine life WITH alcohol or WITHOUT it. THEN, we will know loneliness unlike anything we ever known. And we reach the jumping off point.
We will want the end.
The reading goes on to speak of the fellowship and what we can do for each other, when we reach the jumping off point. When you come to your Home Group, and you connect, and you STAY, your life will change.
I show up so that others see me show up to tell them that ANYTHING is possible. It CAN be DONE. It takes Work. Consistency. Faith. and Action.
People WITH TIME, look at me strangely. People with little time look at me strangely. They cannot figure out, why I am so serene and happy.
Vulnerability takes Courage.
For a couple of years, I’ve been vulnerable. I speak my mind. I share honestly, and to the point. I am out there, in good times, and in bad times. I tell people when I am feeling sad, or angry, or happy. I no longer edit my words in public. People do not like it when I am deadly honest. People cannot understand why I speak honestly and with soul.
I am an Alcoholic who wants to get well. To live a good life. To know why I tick the way I tick, and to work on my character defects and shortcomings.
We might work steps, some more often than others. Many forget that Steps Six and Seven are the steps we work for the rest of our lives, on a daily basis.
My guys know this. And they struggle the same way I struggle, when they come to me and ask my advice, when sometimes I have no idea what to say to them, as I tell them how I dealt with those very same issues. The only way I know how to help another human is to tell them the truth, even if I don’t have a clue, what I am supposed to say, at least I say something.
Over the weekend I was home alone. And I rang up a friend, I’ve known for more than forty years now. Facebook, that necessary evil, makes it possible to keep in touch with people who matter to me, sober or not.
She asked me about me, and I asked her about her. I told her my story, and she told me one of hers. She said, and I quote … “If you don’t concentrate on your step work when it comes to certain people in my life, actually STEP the exact issue, you are going to become as bitter and angry as they are.”
She goes on … You know steps better than I do, of course I do, she’s not one of us. But she knows enough about me today, that she can offer that kind of advice, because I will listen to her when she talks to me. Because, we often don’t have an opportunity to talk for over an hour, like we did Sunday night. She was right. I shared that at the meeting tonight.
Everybody looked at me strangely. What are you talking about? I knew what I was talking about. Now I know what I can do now. The conundrum of sobriety is this … There aren’t a whole lot of people I want to talk to, to any depth, because only a handful of people I know today, would even offer to invest in me. Even sober …
A long timer said tonight, that he’d been hitting many more meetings than usual because his shift at work has changed. But he notices the disparity of not a whole lot of long sober people. They are either moved away, sick themselves, or dead. He hangs around with NEW BLOOD. He sees how many of us, who were around or, more, still around from the years when we got sober together. Few of us, are still around.
There are too many chair warmers. People want to get sober. Yet, they don’t want to put in the time and the work necessary, to get where some of us are, on the path to happy, joyous and free.
Not long ago, one of my kids, after facing a raft of losses in his life, walked into the meeting, on Thursday, a couple of weeks ago, and said to me and to God, as I stood there “Where are the fucking PROMISES?” God certainly has not dropped them on me,” at his almost ninety days of sobriety.
New comers hear us read those pesky promises day in day out, week in and week out. And they suppose that God is gonna drop Promises on them like Manna from Heaven, as needed, with no toil or tilling the ground so that the garden bears fruit.
A garden is not gonna bear fruit or anything, if you aren’t going to get your hands dirty, and get down and dirty in the mud with the rest of us. So many people want the PAYOUT with no LABOR.
I look at them and a giggle to myself. If you only knew.
Promises don’t drop out of heaven like Manna. They come when you invest in THE WORK. And you put your time in getting sober. You just cannot walk in the door and expect God to just lay it on you because you just walked in the room.
Because that’s exactly what I said when I came in this second time around. I actually gave God a list of “Things I wanted, Expected, because I HAD ARRIVED!”
Long Sober folks laughed at me and said: KEEP COMING BACK !
Talk about lessons in humility.
I worked my ass off for the whole of my sobriety. My best friend said it all when I took my 17th chip a couple of weeks ago … I don’t stop, I am always looking for the next big challenge. I ask people for help, even if they are less sober than I am. Newcomers saved my ass this past year. My lady friends who worked steps with me changed my life in ways I cannot explain.
Some of my kids are lock, stock and barrel, Confident Adult Women.
I’ve watched them grow up around me and in front of my own eyes. And that is what I wanted this round. So I asked for help, and help arrived. Because I was willing to sit, read, and to listen.
Because some of my women have solid, hard core sponsors, who don’t hand out bull shit, but expect hard work and honesty from their women. Some of my friends HAVE IT. Many do not. But they could, if they put in the work to get better, instead of pissing and moaning about how miserable they are in sobriety.
And I am oft to say … You know if what we have does not work for you, we’ll refund you your sobriety, and you can go drink again, and see if that works better.
Common wisdom of people who are long sober, or sober longer than I am, say this … Alcoholism might stalk me in the back of my head, and I hear it speak to me and woo me into the false idea that a drink would be nice.
Long timers, who are sober twenty plus years, know the kinds of drinkers and addicts they were when they got sober. They know how insane their lives were, and none of us are going to give it up for the chance to try some new drug or flavor of alcohol that some of our young kids drank or drugged with.
Our young people have that conscious choice in front of them. They can root and stay, and work and learn, and get better, OR they can warm a chair and bide their time, until the opportune moment they can say FUCK IT and go back out and drink and use some more.
Common wisdom also says that the odds of finding a better buzz, or a better drug, on a relapse will be better, is false. Because eventually you are going to wind up in a worse place the next time they chose to use, a bigger jackpot, even jail, or institution, or God Forbid, DEATH.
I know misery. I’ve been miserable too. And I am one of those men who will admit that in open community. Not many pay attention to anything I say.
But if I wear something irregular, they WILL SAY something to me.
Funny that !
I don’t have time for misery or anger or bitterness. My nuclear family have invested, lock, stock, and barrel on the alcohol, and the misery, anger and bitterness. Because they speak to me in those kinds of words.
I know those words. And from my mouth to God’s ears …
I WILL NEVER BECOME YOU !
I’ve been sober now seventeen Christmases. I’ve been sober longer than all the years I spent drinking and drugging. I’ve spent more holidays sober now, than I have ever, in my life, even as a kid. Because in my family, alcohol was a food group. If you did anything, it was bracketed by an alcoholic beverage of some kind. Beer or Spirits.
I’ve never been so cognizant of how subtle the fine line of sanity and insanity. Because I skate on that line often. And I know how precarious that skate is sometimes. So I stick with the winners. I suit up and I show up for my life, on a daily basis.
I heard a guy talk on Instagram earlier before I started writing this post and he said … IF YOU WANT CHANGE, IT IS EVERY DAY.
EVERY DAY !!!
EVERY DAY !!!
CONSISTENTLY, RELIGIOUSLY, WHEN YOU WANT TO AND WHEN YOU DON’T. WHEN PEOPLE SEE YOU, AND WHEN THEY DON’T.
IF YOU AREN’T IN THE ARENA WITH ME GETTING YOUR ASS KICKED LIKE ME, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR CRITICISM.
Brene Brown … The Man in the Arena Speech. Teddy Roosevelt.
CHEAP SEATS ARE EASY. GET IN THE ARENA AND FIGHT FOR GOD’S SAKE. BECAUSE IF YOU AREN’T FIGHTING LIKE ME, YOU HAVE NO ROOM TO CRITICIZE ME.
Some sober folks are in the cheap seats, and they want to criticize, and not do any heavy lifting. Sobriety isn’t cheap seats, work. Sobriety is IN THE ARENA FIGHTING FOR ONES LIFE and SANITY.
I haven’t written in a long while. Not that I did not have content to talk about. But life, as it has happened over the last little while, has not been easy.
I’ve not been feeling myself, for the last little while. I need medical attention, that we cannot afford at the moment. And as of 2 days ago, that need became seriously magnified.
Over the past couple of months, my husbands office, has gone through serious changes, and to that effect, by Monday afternoon, all the furniture in the office had been liquidated, and sold off. All the employees have been working from home, which has turned the office into no-mans land. Several employees quit, and on Monday night, hubby came home and was sullen and depressed.
Before dinner, he turned to me and said the following …
“They’ve sold off all of the furniture and computers. The refrigerator had been emptied and turned upside down, over the tub, in the bathroom, to defrost it. All the employees have vacated the premises.
By the close of business Monday evening, hubby was the last man standing in an empty office. The only furniture left, in the place, was his desk and his computer. He then told me that Tuesday, would be his last day at a job, he has excelled in over the past four years.”
On Tuesday morning, I was up before dawn, watching cruise ships sail into Nassau harbor, via web cams on my desktop. One, I could not sleep, and two, I had to be up to make sure hubby was alright and mentally prepared for the day as it was to transpire.
Sleeping in, and leaving him alone with his thoughts was not what I wanted for him.
We knew going into Tuesday that a severance package was in the works. As the last man standing, he was offered a healthy severance package upon departure. In the end, he was retained on a part-time, freelance option.
The office has been closed. And the other employees, that were let go, will be afforded a flex space in Old Montreal, for important face to face meetings, with the company owners.
For all intents and purposes, the company has folded major operations, and only a few employees remain. Hubby will work from home, on a part-time, 20 hour work week, making good money for the hours he is billing the company to remain, partially employed.
We will lose our much-needed insurance, that pays for our medications. Which prompted an emergency call to our pharmacy, and we ordered three months of medication to be provided in one drop, because the insurance is going to lapse, and while it is still in place, hubby decided that we should fill as much medication as needed, hoping that he lands in a new position, in that three-month period of time.
Meanwhile on Stream B, hubby had applied at another media firm, that he had researched and sent his updated cv and coordinates. He is able to see, in real-time, how many people have looked at his papers, and their movement up the chain of command.
I am told that this company may take its time in responding to a job inquiry, so he is in a holding pattern, for a second job, while working part-time to keep the money flowing from stream A.
His intention, from the very beginning, was to figure out all these problems by himself and not bother me into worrying about the job, the money and the loss of insurance, hoping that he would have heard from Stream B by now, but that did not happen, as he planned it. In the end, he spilled the beans in an emotional flush of words.
What was I supposed to do now ? All I could do was listen to him talk, and to be present in that moment. Once again, as I look back over the past week, and for the last portion of our lives, Someone Much Greater than we are, is watching us.
And every so often, that Power Greater than ourselves, sends us a sign. A physical sign that we are not alone. The last sign we got, was at the end of the trip to Hamilton in May. That trip was a shit show, but when we got home, a concrete sign was sent to us.
I know that we are not alone right now, for sure.
And at dinner tonight, I spoke these words to hubby. Reminding him that he was not alone, that I was here, and that someone is keeping an eye out for us.
On Stream C, all my kids returned from summer vacations, as school begins the next week for them. We have been welcoming them back a few at a time, over the last little while. The last remaining folks return tomorrow, Friday …
We are all reconnecting. For a handful of graduates who have moved on, they are all relocated in jobs scattered all over Canada and the U.S. Everybody is still sober and that is a good sign, going into the Fall.
**** **** ****
Yesterday around 3 p.m. I was sitting at my desk, and in moments, the sun disappeared from the sky, and it got very dark, very quickly. Environment Canada sent out an emergency storm warning across the web and via text.
As it was dark outside, I stood at the windows and watched the rain move from East to West, across the sky. A rush of wind blew, and the demolition site, just up the block, where they are tearing down the former Children’s Hospital, the wind was blowing so hard that the mounds of dust and debris from the site, began to fly into the air in a flurry of motion.
The rain began to fall, earnestly. Had I not been watching the progress as it happened, I would have missed it. A few hundred yards from the building, I saw a rain cloud open and drop a burst of rain, falling so hard and so fast, that it obscured the sight-line of the buildings and land beneath it. I’d never seen so much rain fall in one concentrated spot like that before. It lasted all of twenty minutes.
Then it was over.
When all was said and done, over 100,000 Montrealer’s from on the island to off island were without power. Many trees were felled. Many roofs were knocked off their buildings, cars were destroyed by falling trees onto cars.
A man on a construction site, here in the city, was injured as he was hit in the face by a two by four, from debris flying through the sky, in his direction.
Off island, several barns were destroyed, including several houses. There was widespread destruction all over the place, from a storm that hit and only lasted mere minutes.
We know today that a type two tornado had dropped from the storm and severe destruction happened.
This was the second Micro-burst storm to hit this city. The last one to hit, had hit the city, West of downtown, in a section of town called NDG. In that storm, it dropped serious rain, and the micro burst destroyed a park full of century old trees. Snapping them into pieces like match sticks.
As it stands, the city is trying to decide what to plant in their place to repopulate the park with trees.
Right now, I am trying to remain calm, and not lose my mind, with the thought that these problems won’t go away very quickly. All we can go is just cope the best way we can, and not get stupid mental over the fact that shit happened in the last week, which we are totally powerless over.
Sometimes God needs to shake the tree because growth is needed, in one area or another. We may not like the tress shaking or the uncertainty of life, but I also know that someone, something greater than we are, has our backs.