Still laughing over this...a week later.

Luck

I am not one who has much belief in "luck". Luck of the draw, luck of the dice, luck of anything, really, does not resonate with me. Perhaps it is because I learned from a very early age about Probability. My father used to know all the numbers, the possible options available, after any play of dice or card. He won lots of money at Harvard that way, playing games.

On a more philosophical note, where some hold a sense of safety or joy in playing with "luck", I much prefer intent or faith. I think over the past few years I have felt that my relationship with my faith has been challenged at times, at others strengthened.

This past week we saw huge storms here, and twice I have successfully avoided trees, ginormous trees, which had fallen, crossing the road, making it impossible to navigate around them without driving in the oncoming lane. I felt fortunate to have made it through. But, is that the same as feeling lucky? I don't think so. I felt protected in some way. Perhaps it was merely the numbers, the speed of my vehicle, the time I left my departure point, the direction the wind was blowing, the fact that one oncoming car was blinking their lights at me repeatedly. But it did not *feel* that way to me. It felt like more than that.

I found this die on the street yesterday. It lives in my pocket now. Just wanted to let you know.

Opening Up

Like peonies, some things take a long time to open up. Little things pull at you, as do the ants as they help to unfurl the peony bud each Spring. Sometimes, it is big things that yank and tear you open, but eventually the opening happens.

I want you to open. I want you to unfurl before my eyes so that I may know the "real" you. Sometimes it's ants, sometimes it's storms that blow the petals about, but the end result is frequently glorious.

The Question

She handed me some paper and a marker and said "Write this down":

"Is it going to make me FEEL better, or GET better"

So I did, with a deep blue green marker. I stared at it for a few seconds, and looked into her deep blue eyes.

"Okay...what does that mean?", I asked.

"That is the single question you need to ask yourself at every juncture of thought and action, when you can't decide, or even if you CAN decide. That way you will know: Am I anesthetizing myself, or directing myself to a True and Authentic experience?".

I thought about that for a while, coming up with possible scenarios, and how it would feel to face my own addictions to Self Soothing.

"What if what I really want at the moment is to FEEL Better?", I asked.

"Then OWN that, and if you are ok with it, go ahead, have a blast!" was the answer. "Sometimes a beer, or a piece of cake or going to a bar to get fucked is just what it is. Just, well...OWN it." She threw back her head and laughed, her long hair flowing over her shoulder.

I stared at that paper for a while, as she continued to chat about some guy who picked her up hitchhiking once many years ago, a heroin addict who was Native American. She said he used to grab a clump of dirt from every pow-wow he attended, and he would throw it in the back of his car on the floor. There was about 2 inches of dirt back there. She loved him, deeply, and was "there" for him through so much over those years. She got him into the AA program.

She said she knew she was avoiding leaving that relationship, and felt some shame that it took her four years before she asked herself the question. She stayed because she FELT better. But she knew, at one point, that their roads had diverged. She stayed anyway.

Another tale came out, as we sipped mango juice and ate some potato chips. It did not seem, at first, to have any thread back to The Question, but later when I pondered this more, tossing it around like stones in a polishing machine, it was very clear.

There was a friend of hers who invited her for dinner one night. They were looking around for some objects to use in a ritual for the full moon; shells, and rocks, things to be written on with blessings then thrown into Mother Ocean. Going to the bureau in her friend's bedroom, seeking precious things to use, she opened the top drawer and inside that drawer was a box. It was chocked FULL of AA 24 hour sobriety coins spilling out all over the place. She looked at her friend, who tossed up her hands and said "Well, they say keep on trying! So, I do! I keep going back to face my stuff. I always will...try".

She was a very close friend. One who had never, in any moment of her life, told anyone that she was in the AA program.

But, over and over and over and over again, at some point when her self soothing had reached toxic levels, she would ask herself: "Is this going to make me FEEL better, or GET better?" And she did so without judging herself about the 247 other times she had asked herself the same question. Because it is not about judging yourself. This question must be asked with as much compassion for yourself as you can possibly muster.

Is not facing the dysfunction and staying in that empty relationship going to make you feel better or get better?

Is not taking the challenge of clearing up family discord going to make you feel better or get better?

Is that beer you want going to make you feel better or get better?

Is that $200.00 pair of shoes going to make you feel better or get better?

Is that casual fuck going to make you feel better or get better?

Is isolating yourself because it is more comfortable going to make you feel better or get better?

Go ahead. Ask yourself The Question.

Own it.

THEN you can move forward with integrity.