Soul Parole 2 Preview....
"Soccer Moms' Please Drive Thru"...
As an addict I have a thing about taking on baggage. I love baggage big and small. I hoard it. The more emotionally painful the package the more I can obsess about it. The more rotten the deed done to another in my past the bigger the package grows in my mind. I caress it and beat myself to bits with it. From a passing comment probably not even meant for me to a second grade fist fight, I remember it all. I have a database of emotional unfinished business that used to make my life unbearable.
The pressure, guilt, remorse, shame and self-loathing created the need to try to escape myself for those many years through bottle and drug. Addicts live emotionally not intellectually or logically. Our emotions make our decisions in most cases. I reacted emotionally then would sort out the fallout from my behavior. We remember everything by our PERCEPTION of the emotional impact people and situations had on us or we had on them. That is why we create chaos in others lives. It is for the emotional insanity and drama. It is our ultimate drug. Chaos.
As our mind clears and we begin to work recovery strategies we try to reduce the baggage which in turn lessens the desire to use. We begin to feel comfortable in our own skins and minds. We try to go back through the rubbish pile that was our past and clean up the joint. The people we have hurt and lied, cheated and stolen from whether it be financially, emotionally or physically are met face to face and we come clean with a sincere desire to make things right. Sometimes it works out and there is a happy ending. Other times we get a dressing down. Still other times we are told that we had no impact at all.
All of the reactions are growing experiences and are important if long term sobriety is to be achieved. If a flower wants to grow it needs space in the pot or its' roots will rot and it will die. The same goes for drunks like me. I was going crazy from all the baggage. As I have cleared it away and made peace with my friends, family and self (to an extent) life gets better. God has given me the strength to stay clean and my mind is less packed with that crap. The worries, fears, pain and shame of who I was that paralyzed me is now setting me free by cleaning it up.
Now I am able to look at people in the eye with confidence and honesty. I can be a true friend. I can be of use not a user. I can sit with Tommy Connolly and not want to stab the guy in the eye with a fork! Wherever I run to I will always be there to meet me. That is a fact. It gets a little bit easier to hang with me the more I get right with God, man and me.
There are some people I can't make things right with. Some are dead. Some have new lives and I can't disrupt their happy harmony with my horror show rewind. Some I can't find but am ready to make things right if I find them. In these cases I try to be of service in other areas. On one occasion I stole something from a store that I could not go back to for fear of Shaw Shank Redemption. My mentor had me buy dog food in the amount of the item taken and had me take it to the humane society. Perfect! Karma square! I felt better that I was able to make the situation right. In a few years I will go back and make the situation right with the store. The point is that baggage was removed and I am a bit more okay with me because of the cleansing.
Yesterday I went with a friend to work at a food pantry here in Joliet. It is called the Family Outreach Food Pantry. I did not go there for any particular reason. My buddy called me at 6:10 am and asked if I wanted to volunteer at the food bank at 6:30. At first I was miffed because I hate to be late. Its' part of the new me. The only thing I was on time for in the past was beer sales and fresh bales. I said sure, and away we went. I can tell you now that God had my friend call me. There are no coincidences.
My vision of a food bank and food lines takes me back to my grade school history classes and the "Great Depression". You remember the old films and the market crash of 1929. There was the dust bowl and the people getting broth put into tin cups. I had a vision of homeless people coming up to the food bank and us handing little packages to the less fortunate. You know? It was going to be people in ratty cars and ripped clothes and winos and all the stereotypes I try so hard to fight when it comes to the labeling of alcoholics, addicts and those who suffer from mental disorders. I was doing the SAME thing before we got there.
We arrived at the tiny tavern parking lot where the food distribution point is and my friend was assigned to traffic control. WHAT? Traffic control at a food bank! He had the vest and the cool little flashlight with the pointy orange end on it and everything. I was jealous for a minute. I was assigned to fill orders. That was to put the boxes of food into the vehicles as they pulled up. This is where the story gets interesting, horrifying, eye opening and real folks. It was the real state of the STATES.
As the cars began to pull up I was taken aback. This can't be! There were a few beat up cars and a few homeless folks walked up whom I greeted with a grateful hello and a "God Bless you." The vast majority of the cars were "Soccer Moms." There were cars of all makes and models right up to a Tahoe with leather interior. The common denominator was all of these people "needed" food. There was no scam. Some folks looked down as I put on a smile and made a quick joke as to let them know it's a beautiful day as I slung the food into their back seats.
Single parents' pulled through with babies strapped in and we offered extra bread to those who wanted it. Every single family wanted it. Like alcoholism and addiction the people in the line to receive the food were a perfect cross section of Americana and it blew me away. Some folks looked as though they had stopped on break from work or were on the way to drop the kids at school. It was heartbreaking and gratifying at the same time. It is a day I won't forget.
In 90 minutes we handed out 300 boxes of food. When that ran out and we had only bread left people were happy and humbled to have a few loaves of that alone. I went home and sat silent for awhile. We are in trouble in this country. They have the food pantry every week and turn away more and more families.
I stood in front of my fridge and looked at the food and saw that our pantry was filled and it made me think of the times when I have said there is nothing to eat when in fact there was plenty. There just wasn't what I WANTED TO EAT in the fridge or pantry at that moment. I will be back to help again next Thursday at the pantry.
I remember not having food. I remember not wanting food because it would take up space my booze needed to fill. I also remember eating garbage when I wanted to eat and had to use my money to buy the booze. I've seen it from all sides. I think if there is anything that I can leave you with it is be thankful for what God has given you... and more thankful for what he hasn't...
The pressure, guilt, remorse, shame and self-loathing created the need to try to escape myself for those many years through bottle and drug. Addicts live emotionally not intellectually or logically. Our emotions make our decisions in most cases. I reacted emotionally then would sort out the fallout from my behavior. We remember everything by our PERCEPTION of the emotional impact people and situations had on us or we had on them. That is why we create chaos in others lives. It is for the emotional insanity and drama. It is our ultimate drug. Chaos.
As our mind clears and we begin to work recovery strategies we try to reduce the baggage which in turn lessens the desire to use. We begin to feel comfortable in our own skins and minds. We try to go back through the rubbish pile that was our past and clean up the joint. The people we have hurt and lied, cheated and stolen from whether it be financially, emotionally or physically are met face to face and we come clean with a sincere desire to make things right. Sometimes it works out and there is a happy ending. Other times we get a dressing down. Still other times we are told that we had no impact at all.
All of the reactions are growing experiences and are important if long term sobriety is to be achieved. If a flower wants to grow it needs space in the pot or its' roots will rot and it will die. The same goes for drunks like me. I was going crazy from all the baggage. As I have cleared it away and made peace with my friends, family and self (to an extent) life gets better. God has given me the strength to stay clean and my mind is less packed with that crap. The worries, fears, pain and shame of who I was that paralyzed me is now setting me free by cleaning it up.
Now I am able to look at people in the eye with confidence and honesty. I can be a true friend. I can be of use not a user. I can sit with Tommy Connolly and not want to stab the guy in the eye with a fork! Wherever I run to I will always be there to meet me. That is a fact. It gets a little bit easier to hang with me the more I get right with God, man and me.
There are some people I can't make things right with. Some are dead. Some have new lives and I can't disrupt their happy harmony with my horror show rewind. Some I can't find but am ready to make things right if I find them. In these cases I try to be of service in other areas. On one occasion I stole something from a store that I could not go back to for fear of Shaw Shank Redemption. My mentor had me buy dog food in the amount of the item taken and had me take it to the humane society. Perfect! Karma square! I felt better that I was able to make the situation right. In a few years I will go back and make the situation right with the store. The point is that baggage was removed and I am a bit more okay with me because of the cleansing.
Yesterday I went with a friend to work at a food pantry here in Joliet. It is called the Family Outreach Food Pantry. I did not go there for any particular reason. My buddy called me at 6:10 am and asked if I wanted to volunteer at the food bank at 6:30. At first I was miffed because I hate to be late. Its' part of the new me. The only thing I was on time for in the past was beer sales and fresh bales. I said sure, and away we went. I can tell you now that God had my friend call me. There are no coincidences.
My vision of a food bank and food lines takes me back to my grade school history classes and the "Great Depression". You remember the old films and the market crash of 1929. There was the dust bowl and the people getting broth put into tin cups. I had a vision of homeless people coming up to the food bank and us handing little packages to the less fortunate. You know? It was going to be people in ratty cars and ripped clothes and winos and all the stereotypes I try so hard to fight when it comes to the labeling of alcoholics, addicts and those who suffer from mental disorders. I was doing the SAME thing before we got there.
We arrived at the tiny tavern parking lot where the food distribution point is and my friend was assigned to traffic control. WHAT? Traffic control at a food bank! He had the vest and the cool little flashlight with the pointy orange end on it and everything. I was jealous for a minute. I was assigned to fill orders. That was to put the boxes of food into the vehicles as they pulled up. This is where the story gets interesting, horrifying, eye opening and real folks. It was the real state of the STATES.
As the cars began to pull up I was taken aback. This can't be! There were a few beat up cars and a few homeless folks walked up whom I greeted with a grateful hello and a "God Bless you." The vast majority of the cars were "Soccer Moms." There were cars of all makes and models right up to a Tahoe with leather interior. The common denominator was all of these people "needed" food. There was no scam. Some folks looked down as I put on a smile and made a quick joke as to let them know it's a beautiful day as I slung the food into their back seats.
Single parents' pulled through with babies strapped in and we offered extra bread to those who wanted it. Every single family wanted it. Like alcoholism and addiction the people in the line to receive the food were a perfect cross section of Americana and it blew me away. Some folks looked as though they had stopped on break from work or were on the way to drop the kids at school. It was heartbreaking and gratifying at the same time. It is a day I won't forget.
In 90 minutes we handed out 300 boxes of food. When that ran out and we had only bread left people were happy and humbled to have a few loaves of that alone. I went home and sat silent for awhile. We are in trouble in this country. They have the food pantry every week and turn away more and more families.
I stood in front of my fridge and looked at the food and saw that our pantry was filled and it made me think of the times when I have said there is nothing to eat when in fact there was plenty. There just wasn't what I WANTED TO EAT in the fridge or pantry at that moment. I will be back to help again next Thursday at the pantry.
I remember not having food. I remember not wanting food because it would take up space my booze needed to fill. I also remember eating garbage when I wanted to eat and had to use my money to buy the booze. I've seen it from all sides. I think if there is anything that I can leave you with it is be thankful for what God has given you... and more thankful for what he hasn't...
