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Faith Evolution …

Faith phrases LDS

How do you know who you are supposed to be? What determines who you are? What one looks like, what one feels, what one sees, what one reads, what one hears from others?

How does one reconcile LOVE coming from certain people, and hatred and revulsion from others?

Looking back, to those early days, I had very few friends growing up. I did not arrive into friendships until I had hit the 6th grade. And it was upward and onward from there.

I knew I was GAY very early in life.

What does a child do, who has time on his hands, and a house full of information to be had, if you knew where to look ?

Nobody thought twice about the consumption of reading material located throughout the house. And nobody gave a second thought to what kind of reading material it was either.

Back in the day, I had a transistor radio that I used to listen to in bed at night. But more specifically, it was what exactly I was listening to that mattered.

I knew I was gay, but I never spoke that word to anyone at home. But parents are not stupid nor ignorant. And in my teens, my father figured it out for himself and began to beat me and abuse me mercilessly and senselessly. The abuse my father handed out began when I was a small child and he would chase me around the house with a bat trying to kill me, saying that “I was a mistake and should never have been born.” My grandmothers stood in the way of my father and his bat every time he did that.

He maintains that line to this day, in 2016, and I am nearing the fifty mark next summer.

I am still that mistake, and the cause of everyone else’s problems.

It is All My Fault.

Not sure where that came from really.

I played the heterosexual dating game through junior high and high school.

I attempted to follow God into Seminary, and I failed in that work. Seminary was not the safest place and not the most sacred location either.

Homosexuality was alive and well under the cover of darkness. Who knew they were going to ordain so many pompous, arrogant, entitled queers into the church back then?

That is the God’s honest TRUTH.

I had not come out of the closet yet. I was still an impressionable young boy at age nineteen.

When I came of age, at 21, knowing I had to leave home, and never return, the one piece of advice I listened to, was from my shrink,

who told me that the only way into the gay community was through a bar and a couple of drinks. The rest they say is history.

What was being Gay ? Same Sex Attraction (SSA), Sex, Drugs, Alcohol…

I lived that lifestyle for just six years. When I turned twenty six, everything changed.

Having the beautiful boyfriend was all the rage in my twenties. And it seemed, that it was not the single gay that was attractive to most young gay men. It was the “coupled” gays that were the most attractive. Breaking up a couple who were dating was the holy grail in the community I was part of.

I was not the prettiest gay boy, but I was attractive for a while, until I became a worthless drunk.

I had never succeeded in having relationships worth any substance.Alcohol fueled the desire for sexual attraction and sex itself.

And it was my own undoing that brought me to where I ended up eventually.

Everything God gives us is a blessing. It might not seem that way as life happens. But in hindsight, getting sick was truly the best blessing I could have asked for.

And I guess, in a way, I was just asking for it, wasn’t I ???

Stupid. Just Plain Stupid.

When James committed suicide, I was twenty five years old. I had reached the first tragedy in my life.

And I drank myself into the ground over that and ended up in therapy.

The day I was diagnosed with AIDS, at age twenty six, the world stopped spinning.

It just stopped.

Where does God play into this story ?

Memere made it perfectly clear to me that she was IN with God. She had that magical connection.

She believed in God and that with that faith, she would give me superpowers to defeat the hatred and abuse I suffered as a child.

I would need that God.

I did not know where God was when James died, and I surely did not call out to God, nor utter a single prayer either.

When I told my family, friends, and fellows that I was sick and was going to die, everyone scattered, nobody hung around nor did any of them want to.

Hindsight is 20/20.

I know God performed a miracle in my life. If God was ever human, he arrived in the guise of Todd’s wise supervision and love.

I prayed day and night for life, and God was right there in the thick of it walking me through the darkness.

If Todd (read: God) had not stepped in and did what had to be done, I would have died with all those men who did die in the end.

I know today that God exists. That I met him in the flesh.

When one is diagnosed with AIDS, the non-negotiables went out the window. The dynamic of what we are and who we are changes forever.

The Post AIDS view of sexuality in my life speaks volumes as to what was more important during rough times.

And I see the wisdom of that blessing now.

Working in the bar, was practice in serving the least of these to the best of my ability. I was protected from anyone who would do me harm, by Todd.

Knowing how to take care of others, was specifically important, because in the end, I would know how to take care of ME, should it come to that. Thank God it did not come to that.

As long as Todd was in my life, I wanted for nothing. I had dignity, guidance, love and respect.

When he moved away, I did not know how to carry those forwards for myself.

I lost myself, turned inwards and took back my will and in an insane moment, tried to fill the hole in my soul. And that did not work out at all.

I returned to the scene of that decision, alone and single.

When I took my last drink, I knew I was done.

For the first time in recent memory I called out to God, I needed heavenly help. I prayed three prayers in a specific order.

And God is always listening, and to prove to me that HE was there, he shifted the universe and handed me everything that I needed. God heard my prayers.

That superpower Memere gave me, was still working.

When I got sober again, I was no longer alone. I had people in the rooms who took care of me.

I moved to Montreal, and later met my now husband.

The day I saw Hubby, I passed him in a church doorway, and I knew then and there that this was it. The rest, they say is history.

Soon after we met, within the first year, he was diagnosed with Bi-Polar depression. And I was alone. I chose to stay and take care of him. I wasn’t going to leave. I spent every night, sitting here in the dark wondering what to do? I kept close to the rooms, I prayed and I listened. God kept me sane and He cared for me, through the dark times.

What happens when the gay lifestyle (read: Sex) turns into care giving and support? Sex goes out the window. I was no longer drinking or drugging. Both of us are sober today.

I think God knew what He was doing.

When you take away the sexual dynamic from the equation of life, who and what you are changes as well.

I am going to be 50 next year. I am no longer a “viable member” of the gay community. I am well “Over the Hill” by the standards of the young gay community.

I don’t walk around Montreal, with the eyes of sexual attraction. Montrealer’s are beautiful people.

I have someone in my life that I love. Once that happened, sexual attraction for others, ended. Once you commit, you commit.

You don’t need any one else. Tainted as I am, who would want me.

I am a tainted man, which makes me sexually unattractive to the many. Hubby accepted me unconditionally. Without question.

If my marriage ever ended, one way or another, I would never go back into general population. That is not even a possibility.

Our relationship began on a wind swept cold and rainy day, and an angel lost in the park close to home.

That one event turned two humans into a couple. It was An Angel, Faith and God.

I’ve been married for twelve years this November 2016.

I’ve come to realize, in the rooms of the fellowship, that we are all human beings, who deserve dignity, love and respect.

I don’t have many gay friends that I can count on in a pinch. Two men come to mind.

I know many people in the rooms. But I rely only on a handful of men and women I can call at any time if need be. They are reliable. The rest are not.

With the dawn of gender fluidity, the whole question of who we are, what we want to be called, and what is politically correct, are all the rage.

I AM a child of God, created in his image. I am a human being worthy of Love and Love from God.

In all my years, today, I have lived through the darkest times, and I survived the threat of death. I conquered my addiction to drugs and alcohol.

What is important in life is very simple. Caring for my husband, being of service to my fellows, and living Godly principles.

The way I see the world has changed, and the way I see myself has evolved. The turning towards God and a life of faith is the transition I am in at the moment.

I’ve met The Elders – they appeared at the right moment, and I was open to conversation. Which led to where I stand right now.

And I have been listening for God’s voice. I am always listening for it, and if I don’t hear it, I sit with my friends and listen to them.

Recently, I heard God’s voice and he said to me that “I am enough for you.”

There is nothing I need except God’s love and direction.

I just want to know that my life has not been lived in vain, that God does love me – all of me. He knows everything and is all forgiving.

I’ve seen so many changes in the world and as those dynamics change, we change with them. At some point, we all have to figure out what we are going to do with our lives as we grow older. And I surely am not going to sink into the pit of obscurity that many of my older friends have sunk into.

As long as there is air in my lungs and I can get out of bed in the morning, I will serve God to the best of my ability.

Saturday – Faith – The L.D.S and Myself


When one decides to turn towards God, and pray with intent, and seek Him with an honest and willing heart, God spoke to me and said … “I am enough for you.”

I have been in a mode of change for the last little while, and God has been working on me slowly, but persistently. I worked my steps, was told by my spiritual director what I must do to move forwards (i.e. turning my entire life over to the care of God as I understand Him) and then, in a very serendipitous manner, a few weeks ago, I met two Mormon Missionaries here in Montreal, and we’ve been talking about God and the Scriptures together for the last month.

These discussions led me to our last discussion and I met a man who lives here in the city, and is a participant in the LDS Voices of Hope Project.

The path towards inclusion in community means a great deal to me. And over the last little while, I have been seeking truths and answers to my hearts questions. I’ve been reading The Book of Mormon for a few weeks now. Little by slowly, I am working my way through the scriptures.

God has always been a part of my life. From very early on in my life, last night I wrote to an L.D.S Elder and I wanted to share this with you. Gay Mormon Guy Blog

I have been going through a change in my life. And this change began some time ago.

You see, I am Gay. I’ve been living with AIDS since 1994. I am still alive. I am also married to a man God led me to by the prompting of an angel. That’s a good story.

I am approaching 50 next summer. And in December, I will hit my 15th year clean and sober. So you could say that I have a trifecta of issues going on.

I’ve always had God in my life, from my early childhood. And God has always been with me, even when I turned my eyes from Him. Which landed me in some serious hot water, (see previous lines above)

A few years ago, a long sober man, I met at a convention, told me that If I wanted my life to change, I needed to step up my prayer life. I did as he asked of me. Not that I wasn’t praying before, but I had to turn up the heat, so to speak.

This prayer life led me into a season of service that had not be open to me before, because my eyes were firmly on God in the program of recovery that I am in.

And as this summer came to an end, just recently, my season of service also came to an end. And I met the elders on a metro platform, who led me to Cedric, who is also a speaker on Voices, who lives here in Montreal.

I am reading the Book of Mormon nightly. And I’ve listened to several men on the site speak. And in turn, that has led me to the decision to turn it all over to God. Because for many years, I was always holding a little back, selfishly.

This morning I was in prayer, and I was mourning the loss of the community and the people I was serving, diligently for a number of years. I was doing all the heavy lifting, and it seemed no one wanted to share the burden, so I felt God telling me that I needed to let it go and move on. All the while this past month or so, I have been sitting with the elders weekly.

In prayer this morning, I heard God’s voice speak to me, clear as a bell. And He said … ” I am enough for you.”

When I got sick in 1994, and the doctors told me I was going to die, I told my family, my friends, my then boyfriend, all of them fled in fear and revulsion. I was gay, now I had AIDS, nobody wanted to help me or to stay.

I was working in a bar, and the manager was my friend. I called him home from vacation and he returned and I told him I was going to die. His response was, “Not on my watch you aren’t.”

In hindsight, now twenty two years later, God came to me, incarnated and saved me from utter destruction. What I realize now, in my pursuit of God, is this … All the while I was learning to live/survive, I was serving others. It was through the service of others, that I was saved myself. It wasn’t about me, it was about the others, who were dying all around me. They all died, all but two of us survive from the original grouping of over 100 men.

I was getting clean and sober at the same time.  I was successful for a few years, but I turned back to my will and the hole in my soul, and turned away from God, and that almost killed me.

In 2001, December 9th to be exact, I uttered the name of God again. For the first time in a long time. And I prayed. And God appeared and answered me point by point, and he met my needs.

I moved to Montreal to become a man, because at 34 back then, I was woefully unprepared and full of fear. I am the man I am because of them men I know, most of them are straight. Funny that. I don’t have many gay friends.

I have ONE friend, he calls me daily, he is my best friend.  One friend.

My husband is another story. He is Bi Polar. Has been for the whole of our relationship. He was diagnosed a few months after we met.

What I know today, right now, now that I look back at the last twenty or so years, the sex life I thought I wanted and desired, has turned out to be for naught. Because it never came to pass. Not since the day I was diagnosed.

The man I fell in love with, is not the man I married. The drugs the doctors fed him in trial treatments, emasculated him and cleaved half his brain away, along with what was, I had hoped a physical relationship.

For the last twelve years, I have lived with my husband. I have served him faithfully. I would never leave him, because I need him and he needs me. It isn’t about SSA and hasn’t been for a long time, in retrospect.

Since meeting the elders, I have turned once again towards God, to find who I am and who I want to be. I transcribed a page of notes from your talk.

“God can meet the needs that I have, that other people can’t.”

I want to be part of community. Because the community I am part of (recovery) is all about getting better, staying sober, and most importantly, serving others to the best of my ability.

Most take for granted that I am present, and like I said, I have a husband now, and out of all the people I know in the rooms, ONLY 1 takes the time to call every day. I know a lot of people in the rooms, its just that not many of them don’t want to know me further than sitting next to them in a meeting. I am an odd bird.

I am coming up on my anniversary, and the myth is this … usually 60 days out, the pre cake roller coaster begins rolling, and we have to buckle up and ride it good or bad.

I heard God speak to me clearly this morning, I haven’t heard Him speak to me like that in a while.

You know what I want to know from God ? At the end of the day, Does my life matter? Do you see me ? Do you love me ? I know God loves me on the surface, because I am still alive.

The elders have brought me faith in Christ, and the Gospel, and my heart wants to follow. Even with my trifecta of issues.

You never know who you will meet on any given day, or how God is going to manifest Himself to you. Open your eyes and your heart and turn towards Him.



Monday – On the Island of Crete …


We are so privileged to have the resources we do today.

If you travel to the island of Crete, in Greece, and are looking for another alcoholic, or a meeting, one has to travel through back alleys, and little lanes, to the door of an old Greek Orthodox Church, where you will find a door, with an A.A. medallion, stuck to it.

And quite possibly, you will also find two ex-pat British men who, for 42 or 43 weeks a year, spend their time on the island of Crete. Two men, probably the only English meeting you will find there, will help you stay sober.

Imagine, if you will, in the year 2016, that there are only THREE people, who have the life saving message of how to quit drinking. There is no book, There are no meetings. There are only three men, in the whole of creation, that have the message, to offer …

In the story, A.A. Number Three, the story of Bill D. the man in the bed, is the founder of the first A.A. group in the world, in Akron Ohio. The Very First group.

When he received the message, it was only Bill and Dr. Bob.

“They said to me, Do you want to quit drinking? It’s none of our business about your drinking. We’re not up here trying to take any of your rights or privileges away from you, but we have a program whereby we think we can stay sober. part of that program is that we take it to someone else who needs it and wants it. Now, if you don’t want it, we’ll not take up your time, and we’ll be going and looking for someone else.”

Bill and Dr. Bob meant business. Because it was THEIR sobriety on the line. If they did not carry the message to a suffering alcoholic, then they were in jeopardy of drinking again.

Do you really need it or want it ???

Imagine if we were back in the day, knowing we had a serious problem, a sickness of the mind and the body, and there was no one around, to help us figure it out, save for just two men, who succeeded in stopping the drink.

We are just so lucky.

The next story in the founder’s section of the Stories in the back of the book is “Gratitude in Action,” The story about Dave B. who founded A.A. here in Quebec in 1944.

A.A. in Quebec began in a nondescript home, in the basement of said home, before A.A. found its way into a local church.

We are indebted to this intrepid group of men and women, for laying the groundwork for the system we have that keeps us sober.

I heard some friends of mine talk tonight about family members on the other side of the world, (read: S. Korea) where there are NO meetings in English and the only contact they have with another alcoholic lives here in Montreal.

I also heard a friend talk about some women who got sober around the same time my lady friend had, a little over two years ago. I warned them all about LONGEVITY. I warned them that sobriety was a LONG HAUL proposition.

That the Pink Cloud would come to an end, and if you are not focused on the long haul of it, you will fall off that cloud and drink again. A couple of those lady friends are still IN the meetings, they STICK around and have stayed.

But for some of those women, who were heavy alcoholics who ended up in institutions and hospitals, and lost their homes, kids, cars and THINGS, each of them rebuilt from the rubble, and then decided that they did not NEED us any longer.

They might be sober still, but they have gone off on their own.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing ? I’m not sure.

It’s not my problem.

Where ever you go in the world, you can, for the most part, find a meeting, in the local language, or better yet, in English if you are lucky. But no matter where you go, in the world, there are people out there to carry the message, even if we don’t speak the same language.

Sobriety is universal.

It was said tonight, by another of our women, that:

If it is the the only thing we find in the rooms, we find God, Spirituality.

The book says:

I came in A.A. solely for the purpose of sobriety, but it has been through A.A. that I have found God.

Bill D, goes on to say … I feel that is about the most wonderful thing that a person can do.

God has been a part of my life for the whole of my life. When it was good, it was good, but when it was bad, it was very bad. But in all my years, I never imagined that I would turn my ENTIRE will and my life over to the care of God, as I understood him.

God was present the first time I got sober, in the guise of Todd.

The problem was that Todd was not IN the rooms. But he gave me a plan to live and he kept me sober on the outside. The room I was attached to, was unhealthy and sick. I did not want to be in that room, but it was the only one close enough to walk, because I did not have a car, and other meetings were too far away and transit sucked.

My first sober stint was unhealthy and I did not connect, and decided not to stay.

Read: Taking back my will to fill the HOLE in my SOUL.

What I did right the second time was this … It began with prayer.

I had, functionally, committed to Steps One, Two and Three, the very night I decided I was done drinking, for the second time.

I made my first meeting in a room that welcomed me and asked me to stay. It was a healthy – safe – supportive space to get sober.

In deciding to grow up, it was in the rooms that I achieved that, with people who helped me stay sober, grow up and become a man. Coming to Montreal, was 100% a God decision.

And God has not done me wrong.







Monday Madness – If The Shoe Fits, Wear It.


Well, you heard it here first folks. The threat of open rebellion, second amendment measures, riots, shootings and racial and religious strife will come down on the population if one certain imbecile is not elected into the presidency.

The basket of deplorables, and that is exactly what they are, are not going to go quietly into that good night, by any stretch of the imagination.

God help us, really !!!

Political correctness be damned. There are some seriously fucked up people out there, willing to believe just about anything, unto rebellion and Armageddon, even when there are solid facts and truth out there for public consumption, there are just those out there, on the fringe, that will forgive anything for the idea of political rebellion against the establishment. The election is rigged, there is a media/Clinton conspiracy going on so that one particular imbecile does not get elected, so forth and so on.

You get the idea …

The utter stupidity and gullibility of the massive hoards of deplorables is seriously frightening. And we should all be afraid, BE VERY AFRAID !!!

Nuff said about that …

This photo taken yesterday evening, was at St. Leon’s, just outside the hall door. The hues of radiant color were amazing, with the shimmering rain that fell during the afternoon. The neighborhood is resplendent in colors, that are much deeper than in past fall seasons. The conditions have to be just right for maximum coloring of the trees.

The issues with my I-Tunes account, my I Tunes on my PC and my I Phone have been resolved after months of them not syncing correctly. Last night I fiddled with the phone and I plugged it into the system and voila … I got the program screen which allowed me to update my sync settings, and all the new music I had purchased and was sitting in my account, quietly synced to my phone and I have new music to listen to, not that I have been listening to ANY music because of my fixation with the Almighty Podcast.

Which segues nicely into the next section.

POD CASTS – The best thing to come along since sliced bread …

Here is my list of what is currently in rotation:

  • The Art of Charm
  • This American Life – I love this Podcast
  • Harry Potter and the Sacred Text – What if we Read Harry Potter as a Sacred Text
  • The Orbiting Human Circus of the Sky – Night Vale Presents
  • Beautiful Stories from Anonymous- Also Fantastic
  • Daily Kos Radio
  • Slate’s Whistlestop
  • Death, Sex and Money
  • Radio Lab
  • W.T.F. with Marc Maron – Irreverent fun
  • LORE
  • Welcome to Night Vale
  • Real Time with Bill Maher
  • The Ezra Klein Show
  • Ted Talks (Audio)
  • The No Sleep Podcast
  • Here’s the Thing with Alec Baldwin
  • Sleep with Me, Bedtime Stories
  • Slate’s Placemakers

Not all of these podcasts update every day. So your choice of what to listen to varies, based on their publication days. Some are bi-monthly, Some weekly, some daily, it just varies. I’ve more than doubled my listening library, after finding myself wanting, when my original lists did not publish often enough for nightly listening.

The other night I went through my top 150 on the Pod Cast App, and selected a few more for my library.

What am I reading, you might ask …

  • Innocent Blood – James Rollins and Rebecca Cantrell – Book 1
  • The Blood Gospel – James Rollins and Rebecca Cantrell – Book 2
  • Blood Infernal – James Rollins and Rebecca Cantrell – Book 3
  • Far and Away – Andrew Solomon – Still working my way through this tome
  • Consumed – Aaron Mahnke
  • The Hero’s Walk – Anita Rau Badami
  • The Book of Mormon – my secret activity

I have all these books. The trilogy from James Rollins, I have read before, a couple of years ago, but the books were not mine to keep, and just recently, I met the man I was trading books with for a long time, at a new meeting I am attending on Monday nights, and I could not remember the author, but he did. So I went to Indigo and bought the trilogy for my library. I had not read book 3 yet, so I started there. Now I am reading book 1 all over again.

Far and Away is a large book, and I am still reading through it. Andrew’s book is really good, I’ve been reading it on and off since I bought it.

The Hero’s Walk, I’ve also been picking it up and putting it down over and over.

Aaron Mahnke’s books are great, and he also has his Podcast, so if I am not reading, I am listening.

Finally, A few weeks ago, I started a conversation, which I have kept to myself. Which led to The Book of Mormon. Interesting seeing I am a Religion Major.

Stay tuned. Things will get progressively worse, you can count on that.



Friday – Money – Before and After


There is so much WRONG going on right now. The wisdom goes thus … It is better to keep ones mouth shut on certain issues, because there are no sides to pick, save for one, and if you speak, counter to that ONE, the hoards of massive crazies will come out with their pitchforks and batons of fire to smite you.

Some of my friends have taken this advice, but a choice few said, “fuck that” I am going to speak my truth, and be damned the naysayers. Which ended them in a pit of fire with comments that are truly inhuman.

Words Matter.


Nuff said …

In our drinking time, we acted as if the money supply was inexhaustible, though between binges we’d sometimes go to the other extreme and become miserly. Without realizing it, we were just accumulating funds for the next spree. Money was the symbol of pleasure and self-importance. As our drinking became worse, money was only an urgent requirement which could supply us with the next drink and the temporary comfort of oblivion it brought.

Although financial recovery is on the way for many of us, we find that we cannot place money first. For us, material well-being always follows spiritual progress; it never precedes.

The talk tonight was all about money. It began with a friend reminding us that money is a necessary evil. Without it, we have nothing, and can get nothing. We are reminded daily that to get on a bus, you need money, or else you get tossed off the bus.

We need money. For some of us, or maybe, all of us, we have to cultivate the right attitude and respect for money.

I had a respect for money growing up. I’ve spoken at length about some of the best jobs I ever had, and why. When one gets mortally sick, and death is the next stop, trying to figure out HOW you are going to survive becomes paramount.

Been there, Done that. Got the T-Shirt.

In my world, growing up in my family, I said tonight, “All the men in my family drank, heavily, BUT they all had nice homes. If I had a million dollars I would seriously find a parcel of land, and an architect, and rebuild my grandparents house brick for brick.

They provided the cash to sustain families, they all had good jobs, and it seemed to me that they were getting away with highway robbery, being able to make the scenes look good, all the while, drinking behind the scenes, abusing their wives and children, who suffered that abuse silently, because we dare NOT say one word.

Silence gave consent. Nobody complained openly, and the men got away with the drinking, the abuse, and the violence, unpunished and / or reprimanded, ever.

I was an alcoholic from the word Go. When I left home, I had the good sense to know that I HAD worked in good paying jobs that I really enjoyed doing. Been there, done that.

For some strange reason, when I moved out, I had a brand new car, that I could not pay for, I had to have that big ticket apartment, in the apartment complex that my new Gay Friends lived in, because I wanted what they had, and had NO IDEA how I was going to pay for it. I had never balanced a check book in my life, and also, why, I was terribly irresponsible, and I should have known better, but I did not.

When faced with the reality that one might not have enough money to buy alcohol, because, before you moved out, your shrink told you that the only way into the Gay Community, back then, was through several drinks at the bar, where all that money was going to come from was the challenge.

And what was my answer ?

Daddy will pay for it.

Almost a sick perversion, to make that man pay for his indignities perpetrated on me. I don’t think I thought that deeply about indignities, but I do today, and would love to ascribe certain PAY BACK for his abuses.

I just used the excuse that daddy would pay, and that got me only so far. They took the car away, and in the end, daddy did pay.

But in the end, I would pay.


Dueling alcoholics you could call us. My assault began, the first time I got sober, but there was a preemptive strike when I was a teenager, I gave up my musical talent as a punishment for his abuse of my mother, and the double decker organ had to be returned because I told him that I would never play another note on that organ again.

And I never did, to this day.

That was serious wasted talent down the drain. What I did not know then hurt me.

I was clean and sober on the first pass, but still untreated properly. I would not understand what that meant, until recently, (read:Today). My father, being the active untreated alcoholic, is just as bad as a sober person who has untreated alcoholism.

The brain is just as fogged as the active drinker, sometimes worse.

Somewhere in my young brain, I realized that all the men in the family were getting away with bloody murder and not paying for it, in any case. Nobody complained, we bore our pain in our own ways, (that was my perception) (read: Not the same as my family, as I was the cause of all of their problems).

How it became ALL MY FAULT, is still beyond my comprehension.

I figured that if the men got away with it unscathed, then I would get away with it too.

I didn’t.

I am clean and sober almost fifteen years, and I carry a terminal disease that will probably not kill me, my doctor likes to tell me, because of my alcoholism and my own short shortsightedness and stupidity.

So there’s that. I did not physically survive my alcoholism, I paid a hefty price in the end.

The tenth promise of the ninth step reads:

Fear of People and of Economic Insecurity will leave us.

I can attest to you right here and now, that that certain promise took thirteen years to come to pass. We’ve learned a healthy respect for money. We know how to use what we have properly and to respect the almighty dollar.

I hear Cyndi Lauper sing … “MONEY, money changes everything …”




Donald Trump wants his supporters to know he’s dead serious about putting Hillary Clinton in jail



The Trump campaign wants the media to think “You would be in jail” is a joke. His supporters know it’s a promise.

Friday Night – Grab them by the PU$$Y


This would only be the SECOND time I post something about

“He who should not be named.”

My Father Once said to me:


I’m totally sure that the U.S. Election IS IN the BAG.

There is no recovery, no apology, nor any words to redeem him now.


Fried, Done, Cooked, Boiled, BURNED and TRASHED ….

Jeudi – La Dixiem Etape – The Tenth Step


God, Let me have a new experience, Let me see the truth …

My new and improved meeting schedule began on Monday night, with a meeting, right down the hill from home. A ten minute walk through the tunnel to Georges Vanier Metro.

Now I know, where several of my friends disappeared to, when they left meetings we used to do together. This particular Monday Meeting is a Big Book study …

Like I can’t get enough of the book as it is.

Tonight, I attended my first meeting in French. In all these years of meetings, I never ventured across the solitude’s for a French meeting, because  I’m Anglo.

My friends, including my sponsor opened this meeting, specifically to open a “New Experience” for folks who want something a bit different. It’s a carbon copy of the Sunday Night meeting, being a literature discussion, only in French.

Having read the Big Book for all these years, in English, I know what it says. And after all these years talking about said book, I know what to say, on various topics. We read from the Book tonight, and the 10th Step.

Not shying away from a challenge, They asked me to read first, which I had a huge paragraph, in French, I read like a Boss… When the share went around the room, I was on the tail end, so I had time to think about what I wanted to say, I just needed to find the right words, in the right tense, in the right order. And I was able to speak “In French” for the first time, in a room full of Francophone folks.

And we talked about The Tenth Step. Having just completed these steps with my sponsor, I knew the territory and what I wanted to say. I think I made sense, in the end. Everybody was proud of my effort.

My friends were impressed with the fact that I made the effort to talk, and not just sit there and not say a word. It always goes, if you make the effort, and not hit the nail on the head, people understand. But if you don’t try, it’s a bad reflection on you.

I had a French Big Book here at home that I was reading off and on all week, practicing my reading and comprehension. Like I said, I know the book, so reading it in French was really not a stretch. I understand and comprehend more than I give myself credit for.

Learning a second language “in the rooms” is sometimes easier than learning it in a classroom. Because on both sides, the words are exactly the same. However, the French Big Book, is twice as FAT as the English Big Book.

My Francophone friends use English meetings to practice and hone their English, in the same way, I want to practice and hone my French, the same way. Knowing people in said meeting makes it a bit easier, because if I get stuck, I get help.

But, You Must Make the Effort …

Sunday Sundries – October Welcome


Hello out there. Today is October 2nd – I’ve noticed in many places, the leaves are beginning to turn. Thanksgiving is next Sunday and I am cooking a feast for my little family once again.

Imagine, next Monday, here in Canada, The battle for Christmas will begin. An entire month earlier than you folks down in the U.S. of A. They won’t be closing up Halloween shops until the end of the month, and in the meantime, the competition for WHO puts up Christmas decorations FIRST is always a holiday mystery.

I know that in St. John’s New Foundland, Christmas trees are up in stores there already. Winter always hits the Atlantic Provinces first.

It has been a very busy week.

This week my meeting routine takes a turn for something a little bit different. My sponsor has encouraged me to seek out a new adventure, since completing this round of “Booking.” (read: The Steps)

The Set Aside Prayer

God, please set aside everything I know about

The Twelves Steps
And You God

 So that I can have a new experience, Please let me See the Truth

Tomorrow night, we hit a new meeting, just down the hill from home, called “Love and Tolerance.” It’s very close to home, and very convenient.

Before the meeting we had been talking about changing it up, and my sponsor then asked me to do something totally out of left field. I’ve been learning French, via the Metro Method, (read: There are tv’s in most of the Metro Stations that show news, weather and train times) and they all run in French. And I’ve noticed that my French is getting better, well, my reading comprehension.
With that said … I am going to start hitting our sister meeting on Thursday night, ( Jeudi St. Leon) at the same church we meet on Sunday night’s, IN FRENCH. My friends from that meeting, who are native Francophones come to Sunday night, and other English meetings to learn, or improve their English. So they invited me to come on Thursday to begin integrating into the French community, which will be something totally new for me.

I brought home a French Big Book to look over, and one of my friends is going to send me the prayers, translated into French so I will at least learn them before Thursday.

Instead of hitting an English meeting, I will be hitting a French meeting.

Saturday is still up for grabs. I hoped to initiate a Saturday night Date night for hubby and myself, seeing we never go out ever unless it is a special occasion for dinner or something.

Fall is certainly on its way. My favorite season of the year, because in just a few short months up here in the North we traverse three seasons, and everything changes so much, very quickly. And in the Fall we get to see the Majesty of Mother Nature in all her Grandeur.

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, (read: The ass crack of morning 8 a.m.) the building workers will begin the destruction of my balcony. They have been knocking down all the balcony banisters and walls on the entire building. 7 apartments. Ours is the last one to be started. Last week, they asked if I would clean all the crud that was on the balcony floor, (read: All that Shit that has been under the floor boards for the last 42 years).

And I was like, “How am I supposed to do that ? I don’t have a freaking shed in my bedroom with cleaning tools and leaf bags, and by the way, a shovel would be great for that kind of thing.” Our Super came up and told me this in French, and I did not get it at first, so about half an hour later the building manager came up to translate, when I then inquired about “Tools and Bags.”

They got me a square shovel and a handful of bags. A plastic shovel at that.

There is a hanging wall of plastic over the opening and I stirred up a shit load of dust in doing the job, I failed to remind them that I am immuno-compromised and that I will probably get sick from dust and allergens from the shit on the ground…

Of course I did …

2 leaf bags later, I had completed said work.

Now tomorrow at the crack of dawn, jackhammers will announce the arrival of morning before I even get out of bed. Which at such time, I will have no choice but to get out of bed because my bed, is just inside the balcony door, and sleeping while jackhammers pound the building is a lost cause.

More to come. Stay tuned …




Sunday Sundries – He Said “Hello”


Life is busy. Fall has come. Single Digits followed. The A/C unit is in its box until next Summer. And we have the windows open until it gets cold at night, and they have to be shut.

Thanksgiving is 2 weeks away. And then PUSH for Christmas will begin.

UGH, God Give Me Strength !!!

For a few weeks now, folks have been in a funk. The funk of untreated alcohol/marijuana addiction. There Is A Solution. It just seems that not many people WANT that solution, and I am totally frustrated with how hard my friends want to make life, when it could be much easier.

Let’s go back to Friday.

I had a doctors appointment in the morning. BOTH my doctors have been bemoaning the fact that my sugars are up a bit, and my triglycerides are high again. Not that they’ve managed to fall with all the pills I put into my body.

My diabetes doctor wants me to further curb my diet, when I don’t even eat three meals a day, because I just don’t. I might eat lunch occasionally, when I am bothered to go get something to cook. That happens here and there. On Thursday I always treat myself to some Burger King on the way to the meeting, if I am not book shopping, or I do both.

My HIV doctor has been giving me the same complaints …

I was dumbfounded when, on Friday, Dr. George says to me …


I was like, how long have you had this ACE in your pocket ? You’ve been on my ass about this for a year, and now you decide to drop this little pill into my life now ? Now we add another pill called EZETIMIBE to my regimen for a month to see what happens. I have another appointment on Tuesday for my HIV doctor and I am going to chew him out as well.

The day gets better from there, Friday …

The Book of Mormon …

I walk back to the Metro at Acadie and I am standing on the platform and a couple of CUTE Mormon elders came down and stood next to me. One walks a little further away, and One stands just off to my left. We stood there for a few minutes, when the young Elder says to me “Salut” in French, ( Hello for those who don’t speak French) I said Hello to him in English.

He let out a breath and sighed … “Oh God, you speak English!”

Wiping his brow …

We got on the train, and a flurry of conversation began. When we got to the terminus of the Blue Line (Snowden) I was transferring to the Orange line to get to a job I was working next, our young Elder handed me his card and smiled … Call Me Anytime.

The next afternoon, I did call him back. We have a date for coffee on Tuesday evening.

I rode the Metro to Vendome and walked several blocks to a small church in Westmount where I had been hired for the day to do a theatre installation for a photography group in the meeting hall.

The group had paid $7,000.00 for a theatre sized motorized screen that needed to be mounted and hung in the rafters above the stage. This monster weighed about 400 pounds and it took 5 guys to build the framing, figure out how we were going to hang the beast and make it all work in less than five hours.

We made a trip to Home Depot and bought the supplies, and returned to build 2×4 trusses for the rafters, from which we would hang the screen. My friend (in the program) is in construction, so he had all the major tools we would need. It was a precision job to get the screen up and hung. It was a great success.

In hanging heavy machinery, you need good framing. You need solid metal works, and you need to double your fail safes, in case the brackets on the end caps of the screen give way and fail. We used high quality chain in the rigging and solid metal works for the hooks and clamps.

When all was said and done, on the way home, I said to my friend that, we might want to secure the chain looping in the rafters further, because there are two clamps on each end that connect chain to the screen. and the chain hangs from large hooks in the framing we had already hung.

If one of the clamps on the screen end caps fail, the chain is going to go into the rafters, come out of its ring, and the failing end of the screen is going to fall to the floor, and probably bring the other side down with it. My thought was, if we secure the hanging ring and the chain with a larger C clamp, that will prevent the chain from running loose and bringing down the screen.

At $15.00 dollars an hour, my advice is not cheap.

Light and sound is a great business to be in. Having built a nightclub from the ground up in the past, and working in the nightclub industry, this job was right up my alley.

The job ran me right up to my Friday night departure at 6:15. I had twenty minutes to spare when I got home. Enough time to unload groceries and change into clean clothing.

While at the doctors earlier in the day, I had updated my apps. And I’ve never seen my battery go from 85% to zero in like thirty seconds. Which meant my phone was dead for the rest of the day, because I had left my charger at home.




Sunday Sundries – “I’m Paying Attention”


Because we need a happy dog photo right now. It’s my favorite image too …

Every one wants to be noticed, to be acknowledged, to be seen, and to be loved…

How often we see people come in the room, and we notice them, but at the end of the meeting, we watch them walk out, because WE did not step up and say, “I noticed you.”

There are two young people in our community, that I have been watching bounce in and out of the rooms, stuck in the revolving door of alcoholism and drug addiction. I noticed them a long time ago, but back then, as my young man said to me tonight, “he wasn’t in it to win it.” But I watched.

I reminded my young lady friend of a story she shared at a meeting a long time ago, about a specific spiritual experience she had one night on the Metro. Indeed, she had forgotten that story, tonight, I reminded her of it.
I decided that the time was right to step up and do something. I asked one question of him after the meeting … “Who is invested in your sobriety?” He replied, no one specifically.

So I told him the story. We spoke for a while, and he has my number, and I asked him to call me every day, to at least, connect with one alcoholic every day, no matter what.

He is working with a man I know, who is good people, so he has a sponsor now.

My friend said something in the meeting we all thought important to remember:


A funny statement that is in tonight’s read:


I’ve said it before, sobriety never ends. Once you begin, buckle up, because this is a long ride, through ups and downs, good times and bad, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part…
See the pun there, did you notice it ?

I’ve been listening to several pod casts lately. I’ve told you about them in earlier posts. One of them is quite good. The writing is stellar, the pod cast is one I look forward to.

A couple weeks ago, I bought a couple of his books. Sold “in house” and not on the “open Market.” Halfway through the first book, I put the book down.

I think I read too much, across the spectrum. So I’m thinking to myself, someone who spends hours upon hour writing scripts, should be well versed in certain research for his books just the same. That is not the case it seems.

Reading a simple story is simple. No expectations, or demands from the read. I read for story. I read for content. I read for details and spins. Don’t waste my time with a book that goes no where, but the simple straight route from point A to point B. End of story.

I am spoiled by Kathy Reichs and Donna Tartt. I am spoiled by several other authors who write stellar books, that I am guilty of holding up expectations for other authors who “should” write like them with attention to detail and story method.

Sadly, not many writers got that memo …

October is getting closer. The holiday season is just weeks away now. I could give you a day count, but that would be a little compulsive, don’t you think ?

If you go to a meeting, notice people around you. And go say hello to at least one person before you leave that meeting. Tell them that “You were paying attention.”

I am paying attention …

You never know when you are going to save a life …

Friday – “Complicated”


Why do you have to make things so complicated, and do stupid things, and then ask why me when shit gets bad ??? We are complicated people who don’t necessarily follow simple suggestions, yet are honest enough to tell you to go Fuck Yourself when you tell folks that it really isn’t that bad, if you did, for once, do as you were told.

I don’t get this generation of folks, who think they own the world, and demand everything and want it for free, on demand. How many times do you have to have a brick wall fall on your ass, before you stop and listen for once ?

People are going to do what they are going to do regardless of how many times you tell them that they are barking up the wrong tree. I have worked to get my young folks back into the fold and to get active again, because so many of them have fallen away and have spent weeks and months isolating in their misery, instead of showing up and investing in each others lives. I don’t know how to get them to invest in each other beyond seeing each other at meetings !!!

The building fire alarm is ringing – hasn’t done that in a long time.


The daily construction on La Catherine begins at 7 a.m. A mere 500 yards away from my balcony. They are working on the 15th floor right now and are close to pouring it. One more floor to 16 and the roof and they will finish in less than a month.

There is a cherry picker crane in the alley down stairs and every day, there are men IN that cherry picker riding it up and down the side of the building that faces the alley. It seems that some do not know how high the building is so they are spray painting the numbers on the side of the build, just to make sure. You know how industrial trucks and cranes have that automatic “Beep, Beep, Beep” when the truck, or crane is in reverse ?

Well, this particular cherry picker is always in reverse it seems. If it goes up it beeps, if it goes down it beeps, if they move it forwards it beeps and if they move it backwards it beeps as well. So for hours every day, all I hear is that God damned beeping.

At the same time, the company that owns this building is doing hard construction all over the facade of the building all at the same time. They are rehabbing the balconies, knocking down the banisters and rebuilding them. They came the other day and took off the flooring on my balcony ( the wooden slat flooring ) not sure what they did with it, but there is 42 years of shit strewn all over the underfloor. Feathers, dirt, rabbit shit and other assorted crap that was underneath the flooring all these years.

The jack hammers begin pounding the building at 8 a.m. every morning. Every morning !!!

Two construction sites. Both running together, first thing in the morning.

Sleeping in has lost its charm.

Our building manager has encouraged me to be patient, while this major work job continues.


Tonight the topic was all about Step 4. And I laughed to myself. This time around, the first time I hit Step 4, I was a neurotic mess. I was 34 years old, and neurotic. I wrote pages and pages and was insufferable with the sponsor I had back then.

Fifteen years later, I see serious progress in the way I approach Step Work. For the first time in sobriety, I am clear and free of every item that first appeared on that list fifteen years ago. I have come full circle.

I’ve been living my sober life, By The Book. By some of my design, but highly dependent on the advice and counsel of those I trust. My sponsor, and my spiritual adviser and a couple of other important people in my life.

As it happened, everything came together quite spiritually. This pass at Step 4 was more spiritual than clinical. I did a good amount of writing and in the end, was given the final key to free myself from the past that has been dogging me for the whole of my life.

People who are all over the map, from day one to thirty years plus, all have stories to tell and fears to be addressed. Sobriety is a lifetime journey and never ends, and is never over, this is it, if you accept the challenge of getting and staying sober and sorting your life out once and for all. Inventories are or should be cyclical, and done often and when necessary.

If you don’t know what is in storage, how is your shop going to be profitable?

Fall is on its way. Temps are coming down, ever so slowly. October is mere weeks away, and Thanksgiving will follow soon after.


September 11 – We are Born to Mourn


Fifteen years have passed, since the day the earth shifted on its axis, and in certain ways, the world, “our world” changed, and would never be the same ever again.

When I was a young man, I spent time in New York City. I visited the Twin Towers, so I was familiar with the layout of the land and the buildings.

That Tuesday morning, it was quite early, I was still in bed. My phone rang, and it was my friend Ricky on the other end. He said “You need to turn on the tv, something is happening, and I’m not quite sure what it is.”

I turned on the tv, and watched the second plane hit the building. I watched the buildings burn, like everyone else did. Then I watched them fall to the ground.

When the air plane hit the Pentagon, the only thought on my mind was my brother’s life, because I knew he might be in that building. I called my mother, whom was not speaking to me, nor was my brother, speaking to me either. I asked her where Kenny was.

She did not answer me, and then hung up on me.

I called several more times, when she finally assented to telling me he was not in Washington at the time of the attack. At least my brother was out of harms way.

I chose not to open the store that day, and I would not open the store for a number of days in the end.

I turned to ABC News and the wisdom and guidance of Peter Jennings. If any one had the power to guide, He would. That began several days of 24 hour ABC news hosted by Peter Jennings. I emailed the news station and got Peter’s On Air Email Address, and I was writing to him back and forth.

One night in particular, Peter was looking very haggard, all suited up and tightly wound. So I wrote him a note, and said …

Peter, you seem a bit wound up. Why don’t you loosen your tie and shirt and relax a bit. A few seconds later, I watched him loosen his tie and shirt.

September 11th, took its toll on Peter, and eventually killed him, because he picked up smoking and that smoking killed him.

**** **** ****

Do we ever get a break from memory, from reliving the past, or from mourning ? No, we don’t.Ever !!! From the earliest days in school, we are taught all those stories of those who came before, and the many that sacrificed their lives to give us the freedoms we enjoy to this day.

We are always mourning an Event, A Human Being, A Time, A Place, a War, A Shooting, Buildings Falling, the list just goes on and on.

I wonder, if there are some out there, who are just tired of mourning.

We owe eternal debts of gratitude for family that went before us, for soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedoms. For those who were killed unjustly, for those who were slaughtered by terrorists who only want to kill the infidel.

We mourn the loss of children shot up in a school, people shot up in public places, and those fifty young people gunned down in a nightclub in Orlando.

Today we remember and mourn all those souls who went to their deaths on air planes plunged into The World Trade Center buildings, the Pentagon, and in Shanksville Pennsylvania.

We mourn the first responder’s who climbed the buildings trying to save peoples lives, and in turn lost their own in the process. For all those who were killed in those buildings in New York City, the Towers, the Pentagon and in Pennsylvania. Thousands of lives lost because of deranged and sinister terrorists.

For days and days, Miami Beach was comatose. The bars and clubs had closed, and we entered 14 days of mourning. I sat in an internet cafe, where the owner gave me free air time every night, to surf, to try to help in some way. I did that night after night.

At dusk, we brought candles to the beach and lit them so satellites could take our pictures from space, and be published for maximum consumption.

There was no partying, no liquor, no nothing. We mourned because that is what everyone else was doing. I was stone cold sober.

Fourteen days later the bars opened and they began to have matching funds Fund Raisers, where if we donated money, we could drink the same for free.

Over the next three months, we drank all the alcohol that was available in a 5o mile radius of the city. We were drunk for months.

The rest is history. A few days before December 9th, 2001, I had had my last drink. Troy took me to my Next First Meeting.On December 9th. My sobriety Anniversary.

And by the grace of God, I haven’t desired a drink since.

We Remember …

Perfectly HONEST ???


“No one can teach you how to be a storyteller, you have to live to be able to do that.”
Casey Neistat

If there is one thing you should do right now, if you don’t already, Go to your You Tube Account and SUBSCRIBE to Casey Neistat. Right Now. Today. Now, Right Now !!

I’ve learned, at this point in my life that, maybe it’s not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it’s about starting over and creating something better.

That is so freaking true for me right now.

Tonight we talked about Honesty. Honesty is one word that appears early in How It Works:

Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being HONEST with themselves. There are such unfortunates. They are not at fault; they seem to have been born that way. They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demand rigorous HONESTY. Their chances are less than average. There are those too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders, but many of them do recover if they have the capacity to be HONEST.

Before I say anything else, we must begin this discussion with the fact that we are all HUMAN, we are FALLIBLE, and we all make MISTAKES. Alcoholism is a human disease, and when we come to the rooms, however damaged and hopeless we are, some tend to forget the human quality and hurriedly ascribe some nasty word to describe fellow humans sitting in the same room with them, forgetting, that at one time, THEY were just as damaged and hopeless as newcomers are.

What have I learned in 49 years of life ?

We are born into families, be they rock solid and honest, or broken and hard pressed for any semblance of honesty or love.

As children and well into our teen years until the day we walk out of that house we were born into, walk out of said house and strike out into the great unknown.

We all carry that around with us, and that taints what we do next, (for many) and how we see the world. For me that was the great challenge. I lacked many things when I left home.

And I see that today.

Knowing all the secrets at home, and watching people live inside a secret and watch them produce a show for the outside world, where they were not their true selves, fucked me up.

My thoughts always centered around, “Well, if this is good for you (read: Your Secrets) then it is good for me.” (Read: What’s Good for the Goose, is Good for the Gander).

Gay IN secret was better than being gay OUT in the world. That was an abomination.

While all the while, I heard my parents demean me and many others, with racist, ethnic and homophobic hatred. In the end I knew I had to go. And I did.

But like I have said before, alcoholism followed me, and so did some seriously bad behavior. Namely, dishonesty, lies, and immaturity.

Honest was not something I aspired to.

In my twenties, I hit several serious situations that put me between a rock and a hard place. At first, I drank to drown. And I failed at coping with suicide. The second, when I got sick, I again, drank to drown, until Todd stepped in.

If he was one thing, he was honest. And I had to get honest to begin with, or there was no future. I learned the hard way what happens when you have to get honest, and remain silent for your own good, because the truth would cost you a lover, a home, a job, a family, and your friends.

Been there Done that …

When people show up, they bring with them everything that happened to them, everything they believe, and everything they have lost. Hope is the last thing on many minds in the beginning. And if we are honest with you, life is not a dress rehearsal, and this is not a trial run, there are no do overs.

This is it. You only get one shot. So you better make it a good shot.

Sadly, many don’t learn this the first time around. I surely did not.

Almost fifteen years later, I am still working on my Good Shot.

Honesty is something I struggle with every day. Honestly, I’ve expected better of people, and hoped in people to rise and grow up, when they are not able to do so. I’ve held onto idealistic expectations, that I will never see “This side of heaven.”

I have known for a while now, that when I turned fifty, I was no longer going to be willing to wait for people who are not part of my life today, to become part of my life. Because, as a wise man said to me tonight, “Twenty five years later, is a long time to make an amend to someone that might be sunk in their way of life, and that outcome be anything else but a big HUGE disaster.”

Good for me, my spiritual director cut me to the chase and made me see, how I was not being Honest with myself or GOD. Withholding my trust in God, and thinking that my will was the better will, and that God did not have the right answer, because the answer I have long wanted had not come YET, yet I was willing to hold on until it came, come hell or high water.


Over the years, being Gay and POZ, I watch people, when I tell the truth. I watch what they do, and I listen to what they say. And it is in what they Don’t Do and what they Don’t Say that I find appalling.

Sober people are just as guilty of this kind of behavior as those who live on the outside.

Today, I know what I know. And I’ve seen what I’ve seen. And I know, for damned sure, who I want to hang around, and who I don’t. They say that “Who we are is directly related to the top five people we have in our lives.”

Rafa is right up there at the top of my five list.

When we come, we bring what we have. And we cope the best way we can, based on each of our abilities to do that. Making sobriety the first priority, when we bring life into the room with us, is the challenge in making sobriety work, Honestly.

I was ready, this time around, to do whatever it took, at what ever cost, no matter what.

And I will have, very soon, fifteen years of making that system work for me. I have accrued all those years of work, honesty as I was able, and truth as I spoke, and love and care where it mattered to give away.

Not Many People are interested in my honest attempt to be a good human being.

And I have to let that be.

I know my elder friends who I speak to and trust implicitly are all on their journeys. My elder man is heading towards 65 soon, and my elder lady friend is heading towards 63, I am headed towards 50, my spiritual director just hit 53.

We are all trying to figure out wisdom of our times. We are all trying to figure out what we are supposed to know, and what is coming around the bend. I know what happened in my twenties, my thirties, and my forties.

I hit sobriety at 34. Wisdom did not begin to set in until I hit 40. I’m not sure what is going to happen when I hit 50. We all know what happened to some, who have hit the 70 mark. They got OLD very fast, became despondent, they suffer from old age that came on quite suddenly, and tragically. I don’t know but I watched what happened, I watched several of my friends age FAST. And they have faded into obscurity, by their own choices.

I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of old ideas and old expectations.

Sometimes being honest is not the wisest counsel.In certain situations.

Today I had a conversation with a friend, who is not in a good space, so I’ve been on top of that with her. She made a decision today that was detrimental to her, despite what we’ve been through together, and I know why she did what she did, and I could not be totally honest with her, because I am not her, and I am not in control of anyone but myself.

The only honest thing I could say was, Do you think that choice was wise ? Good or Bad ?

The scales of the past fall from us, the longer we work on ourselves. And truth and honesty comes in stages, and not all at once, because we are HUMAN, and we can only progress forwards, with TIME, WORK and with FAITH. As we are able, with what we have at each moment we need it.

I see that wisdom now, about how dishonestly I began my adult life. And just how long it took me to figure all that out.

That is twenty eight years later …

Better late than never.

I would rather you be honest with me, than give me the silent treatment or ignore me. Some of my friends just walk away. I’m not sure why, because I work very hard at relationships, it’s just that for some of my friends, I don’t have that kind of relationship, let’s say, that I do with my best friend or my husband.

Certain friends of mine when I ask them to be honest with themselves and me, have turned around and told me to go fuck myself.

One, they can’t be honest in recovery, And Two, they can be honest in telling me to go fuck myself.

That doesn’t make sense to me.

You cannot be all things to all people, its just not possible.

I’m honestly working on being better at honesty, all the way round.

How Free Do You Want to Be ???

Wednesday – Visual


I have been looking at sprucing up the blog recently. I was invited to participate in a new template editor and theme maker, alas, that service is costly, and is only available for self hosted blogs, which mine is not.

So let’s introduce you to “Visual.” A brand new theme that is sleek and has specific customization features. Gone is my old busy, and all over the place sidebar. I’ve taken away all the clutter that has nothing to do with what I am writing, and gives you a more user friendly option when using mobile devices.

Welcome to new readers and thank you to all of you who have stuck around through my transitional period of life.