Of all the things holding me back in life, little compares to… myself. Nothing ‘out there’, no weird circumstance or unforeseen event has ever come close to overshadowing my own well practiced (and often subconscious ability) to set up roadblocks. What should have taken the metaphorical mile has often turned into a totally random cross country road trip with all kinds of dangerous layovers and distractions. I’m ever so slightly envious of those who practice myopic vision when it comes to reaching their goals. I’m not talking about becoming so narrow minded that I’d turn into some sort of bigoted dirtbag, but I’d like just enough of the skill to keep me from allowing petty, useless, and self-indulgent diversions to pull me off course.

I suppose my number one stumbling block is a tendency to react with a clenched jaw and thousand mile stare when I’m asked if I’ve done something before I’ve had a chance to follow through with my intentions, especially if it’s brought up more than once. That’s my ego on full blown display. My poor feelings have been hurt and now I’m going to go into some sort of insanely illogical juvenile defiance tantrum. For instance, if I mention that I need to wash my car, and three people ask me when I’m going to do it before I’ve gotten around to it, my knee-jerk programming says, “Screw it, let the dirt eat it to the frame, I’ll show them.” Wow. Talk about suicide mode for actually getting things done, yet time and again I’ve chosen conceit over humility, and the only person who gets crushed is me.

Of all the things I’ve done the most self-damage to, my health has suffered the most. Fifteen years past where I should have scheduled my first colonoscopy, I’m finally moving forward with it. Better late than never I suppose. And YES, it’s been brought up a lot in the last decade and a half, but when it has been mentioned it’s always been with Love and concern attached, never anger or harshness. About six weeks ago I had my second knee replacement surgery and I did NOT want to do the intestinal procedure before then just in case something bad showed up and kept me from moving forward with my impending arthroplasty. What originally put things off even more, however, was that my knee operation had been scheduled to take place almost one year ago. And guess why? Ultimately my ego cornered me into a very dangerous situation.

In 2015 I had back surgery for a slipped disc. Less than 24 hours after I had gone home I found myself back in the hospital for a total of nine days because of… pulmonary embolisms. I had zero energy and could not move. After massive doses of blood thinners and constant monitoring, my doctor announced that they had been successfully dissolved. The gentleman treating me said I went down to about a 3% chance of survival at one point. They also told me I needed to be on blood thinners for life, Eliquis to be specific. I did so for maybe three months after and blew it off. Why? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. A few years later I ended up with a clot in my right leg the size of a polish sausage. More hospital bed time, more prescribing blood thinners, more me letting my pride drive the bus. And this brings us to ten months ago when clots showed up in my lungs again, this time the size of ping-pong balls. I know for a fact because saw the scans myself. What was supposed to be my pre-op visit for my left knee turned into a justifiable crisis because I told them I was short of breath at the appointment, which prompted the staff to insist I immediately visit the emergency room, thank God. This time I was incarcerated for only three days.

I detest drugs. Being in recovery now for 28+ years is something I want to keep intact. I don’t want to be dependent on anything like that, but honestly that’s my ego rearing its head again thinking it knows better. For the moment my life is dependent on certain supplements like Eliquis, but I also have to take steroids to battle my rheumatoid arthritis which for the past ten years, and especially the past four, has dropped like a piano on me.

There’s an abundance of similar examples going back to my childhood which reflect patterns of deliberate ignorance in my life. One thing is painfully obvious now, the older I get the less I can allow such behavior to continue. Honestly the only thing which has acted as water to my self-destructive infernos in life can be summed up with a single word… surrender. And when I say surrender I mean when an outside solution to my problems presents itself, no defense is to be allowed at all.

I think there’s an esoteric strength that comes with willfully abandoning that part of our ego which rots our lives. It lies in the in the hands and pleas that reach out to us. It comes from the ones who only want the best for us without asking for anything in return but our continued presence, and if that isn’t pure Love, I don’t know what is.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood