Love

148. IN SEARCH OF PEACE

Peace seems to be lacking these days. The idea seems so elusive, so distant. If it could be bought and sold, it would be the world’s hottest commodity. People often say they want peace, all the while disguising their definition of it behind actions of selfishness. “As long as I don’t have to sacrifice my lifestyle, I’ll support those who suffer.” Not exactly an attitude of any religious or spiritual belief, is it? I truly believe the fires of separation are fueled by complacency. As we elect to stay in our comfort zones, we often take the stance of someone watching a colleague on the playground getting beat up while quietly saying to ourselves, “Boy, I feel bad for that kid, but I’m sure glad it’s not me.” A lack of gratitude for all our blessings mixed with a mantra of “what about me?” is an extremely common and toxic mindset these days. This is the pinnacle of an arrogant or selfish attitude. 

The majority of mankind does seem to worship those who are successful in a materialistic sense over those who have an abundance ethics and serenity. We bend our knees in awe of those with power and wealth instead of doing so in reverence for those who embody kindness and tolerance. People often claim they do otherwise, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s almost always an outright lie. Actions always reveal our true focus of devotion. 

I’ve said this for years, and I reiterate here, “The easiest way to tell good people from bad people is that good people get along, and bad people don’t.” A lack of trust and cooperation characterizes the most poisonous, corrupt, and evil people in history. They believe they are right while thinking and arguing that everyone else is wrong. Their actions, which often include third grade childish tantrums and shallow name calling, are designed for personal glory rather than a greater good. If someone disagrees with them, they’ll not only kick them out of their circle, they’ll do so with extreme prejudice. The more public they can paint those they oust as a new enemy, the more they’ll convince themselves of self-righteousness. They want “yes men” around them, they want drones who blindly support whatever nonsense spews out of their pie-holes. These people are NOT interested in peace, they seek domination and worship. Every action is designed to prop up their ego.

We need to stop basing our leadership on outer or superficial qualities and look to those with inner strength and virtues. Humility, as far as I’m concerned, is the greatest principle a person can own. There stands a harsh dichotomy. The people with the best qualifications will most assuredly NOT want the spotlight in any way, shape, or form because such pursuits will not match their belief systems. Yet as elusive as they are, look we must. Worship of people through the lens of their avaricious accomplishments is a worldwide addiction, one that in the end, will erode all forms of cooperation leaving nothing but a path of chaos and destruction behind us.

We do tend to band together for great causes when bad things happen, and this is a good reaction. We do not, however band together when good things are stable. If we did, our comradery and accomplishments would skyrocket in  strength and stability. By ignoring this possibility we throw our ultimate potential in the trash. Why must horror, violence, death, and misery be the only catalyst that bonds us in solidarity? Why must we wait for blood to be spilled before we seek brotherhood? Is this our nature? Can we not rise above instinct and self-interest and reach out with Love without thinking we’ll diminish our lives by doing so?

There’s a saying attributed to Victor Hugo, and it’s appropriate as it gets.

“Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come.”

NOW is the time, before things get much, much worse.

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With Love and compassion,

Daniel Andrew Lockwood

131. GOODBYE, DAD

My father died on February 15th of this year. It was a Saturday and I was working when my phone went off. I knew what the call was about before I even looked. He had been slipping away rapidly for the past six months, his mind eventually catching up to his deteriorating body, both of which were now just bits and pieces of who he used to be. Departure at this point was just around the corner. The last time we went to breakfast, about six weeks prior, I caught him in a moment of clarity, “You know Dad, if you want to check out there’s no shame in it. I’ll be fine, really.” Honestly, I am glad he heard me. I hope someone reminds me someday, if I am hanging on, fearful of what lies beyond this existence, of the same truth, that life is only a parenthesis in eternity.

We had a weird relationship, more like brothers than parent/child, anyone that knew both of us would readily agree on this observation. As a teenager and eventually an adult I found myself living with him on and off on several occasions, Once I awoke to find him standing over me in my apartment saying he had left his girlfriend and was moving in. We split the bills (which were always late) and never had anything worth eating in the fridge. Our TV was a piece of crap and matched what little furniture we had. We really did live at the fringe of minimum standards. It was not uncomfortable, just sparse. The only really good advice he gave me I think happened by accident. When I was fifteen I left my mother and finally moved in with him. He then laid down his intentions insofar as his parental duties were concerned, “Okay, here are the rules, I don’t care what you do. Quit school, do drugs, go to jail, does not matter, but know this, if you need me to bail you out, too bad. I have my own life and I’m giving you, yours.” I am not too sure he did this as a favor to me, although it did turn out that way. The time did indeed come on several occasions when this “law” was put to the test. He stood by it, and I quickly learned I was the unwilling owner to all the reactions of my actions. It did not keep me from a self-destructive lifestyle, but it did teach me to never expect a net when I fell.

I never knew until after I sobered up, almost twenty-five years ago now, just how much remorse he carried. I was way too self-centered to realize just he much he hated his own life. In our last year together, he lamented he did nothing he was proud of, and at the risk of sounding arrogant, I pointed out that I would not exist unless he had been… involved. I could empathize with his point of view because I have been buried by mountains of shame myself, and I know the hopelessness and depression it can generate. Even so he never complained about his surroundings, and he decided early on he was going to make the best of his situation. We were fortunate and the nursing home he ended up in was professional, and his caretakers, kind. I was also lucky that it was only a few minutes from home.

As his health waned so did our public social activities. To keep him entertained I would swing by pawn shops and buy movies for him. Truthfully, it got kind of hard finding titles I thought he would like, which eventually had me inadvertently purchasing several in duplicate. Often, I could come up with twenty to twenty-five at a time, but for the most part it was a dozen or so. Movies had always been a common thread of enjoyable discussion so I was thrilled when he called me and told me he loved “The Whole Nine Yards” which I think is well written and hysterical, but isn’t normally the type of film my father would go out of his way for. Unfortunately, his eyesight started deteriorating past the point where he could see the screen, and I really do think this is where he decided to start (purposefully) shutting down.

My father-in-law’s Wednesday visits were a wonderful highlight in his week, and he and my wife’s father eventually became good friends. His demeanor would always perk up when he talked about him, and I feel blessed to have married into such a caring and loving family that extends well beyond my wife. They helped to make my father’s last days a lot brighter.

I’ve been struggling with whether or not I should share something that happened only a few weeks before he passed. If I do not, I now know I will regret it. He left a message on my cell while I was working, and it broke my heart. He was crying, saying he wanted to go home. “I want to go home, I want to go home, please take me home, son.” It was my Dad of course, but it did not sound like him. He sounded like a little kid, lost and scared. I tried to call back, but he was not answering, so I swung by after work.

“I got your message today”

He started crying again, “I want to go home son, I just want to go home. Funny thing is I don’t know even where home is.”

I took his hand, “Yeah, yeah you DO know where home is, go there if you want.”

Well… he went home.

Be at peace Dad, finally… be at peace.

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Comments are welcome, I will answer in kind.

With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

 

126. LOVE POEM

When I first saw the woman who eventually became my wife, I had two initial reactions. First, I thought she was much younger than me, and second I figured she was way out of my league; I’m glad I ignored my second judgment.

Have you ever felt your chest pound at the sight of someone? For me it’s a vibration of intense magnitude that’s much more spiritual than physical. It’s an actual massive thump, like one’s heart suddenly aligns with and acknowledges divine energy. It was so undeniable in that first moment, and I hoped beyond hope she would react the same way.

She did.

We dated for a while and finally I decided to propose. I figured Valentine’s day would be fitting. My plan had started the previous Christmas. I bought her a Magic 8-Ball and passed it off as a goofy gift, but I had other motives. At the time I was attending night courses for work, and this particular night it began to snow, really hard. When I walked into class I told my instructor I needed to leave to propose to my girlfriend, and he thought that was wonderful. By the time I was walking out the door to my truck he had decided to cancel classes for the night anyway, so the day was lining up to be serendipitous. I called before leaving and asked her to dig out the 8-Ball because I needed it for something. She sighed a little, said she would, and I told I’d be over soon to get it. When I got there she hugged and kissed me and I asked for the toy which she handed me with a weird look.

“Have a seat.” I said. She went to the couch and walked over and I dropped to one knee. She started shaking a little.

“Just a second, I need to consult the ball before I ask YOU something.” I shook it vigorously and it came up “Yes, absolutely!” I showed her the answer with a big smile.

She immediately said “Do it again.”

I shrugged and complied. Again it came up “Yes, absolutely!” and with that I asked her to marry me. She happily agreed and our next anniversary will be our 17th. I married my best friend in 2003 and would wish such happiness as I’ve had since then on anyone.

Some time before we were married I wrote this poem for her.

I Love you baby! This post is for you.

Water Falls

Stranded on an endless dessert,

Lost among the shifting sands,

I wished to quench my dying thirst,

And wash the dust off lonely hands.

The days had trod on tinder skin

And cold nights they cut so deep.

In my eyes I felt the pain,

But had not tears that I could weep.

No strength, no will, no hope was left,

No more torture could I stand,

And so I fell into a dream

About a distant, perfect land.

All the suffering I had known

Was swept into the wind,

And all the fears that kept me bound

Were now coming to an end.

I sensed I was somewhere

I had never been before.

God had granted me salvation

So I could live once more.

I felt my heart come to life

With every waking beat.

I felt the touch of cool, moist air

And grass beneath my feet.

I began to walk upon a path

With strength now regaining,

And where it led I came to rest

In a place forever raining.

Here I washed away sorrows

And my destiny was found

For underneath where water falls

I stood on sacred ground.

It was then I saw the truth

Through the mists surrounding me

That my dream was not a dream

But in fact, reality.

 

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

124. OPEN EYES

 

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With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

116. WHO AM I?

For years, decades actually, this simple statement, finding out who I REALLY was, was never on my radar. I shuffled through the days with no eagerness, no purpose, and no intent on manufacturing a life of abundance. Status quo was fine. As long as tomorrow wasn’t much worse than today, why would I try reaching towards dreams that seemed more like fantasy than possibility? Looking into the mirror I never saw anyone of value; twice nothing is still nothing; this world with me or without me would be the same. Trying and failing was a much more painful prospect (I thought) than never starting, so motivations were completely absent. Nonjudgmental self-evaluation was something I never knew existed, let alone how to practice, though I DID constantly criticize myself, and this path almost led me to an untimely death. Why? Because in my mind all perceived error deserves punishment, or so I thought. I saw all my “mistakes” as permanent character flaws rather than temporary learning opportunities.

One thing’s for sure, I’ve ALWAYS felt like a triangular peg living in a round world; maybe more accurately a star shaped peg. In any case my attitudes and beliefs have never quite seemed to match anyone else’s, especially when I was young. I’m sure this feeling is true for a great many people, but my point is when you (think) you’re a drop of water in a dessert, it’s difficult to find kindred spirits. As a result I began to question if my thought process was totally out of alignment with the rest of mankind’s. Wondering if my sanity was intact was a disturbing notion, one I avoided contemplating. It’s no wonder alcohol and its ability to numb my emotions had an eventual massive appeal.

With these two outlooks on life, basically (choosing to become) an “apathetic alien”, I subconsciously attacked myself from more than one angle. The more I convinced myself I didn’t belong in this world, the more I died a little every day. I’m glad I didn’t.

So, WHO AM I?

I’m now a person who doesn’t care about the question “Who was I?” I remind myself of the past by keeping an occasional eye on my rear-view mirror because it’s good (and in my case, healthy) to know what I don’t want. These days I do indeed look to the horizon (something I NEVER did in my youth) and fantasize about all my plans and dreams, but this still isn’t my primarily focus. I’m hyper-aware I’m neither what was, or what might be. I am what the moment presents, part intent on my part, part what the universe hands me. I refuse to believe I’m the sum total of my (unwanted) history because I try my best to avoid letting previous negative patterns influence the present. Just because I responded a certain way before is no excuse to repeat my behavior under similar circumstances. I’m sorry to say this doesn’t always happen, but I’m much better at this exercise than I used to be. Recognizing a Pavlovian response is eighty-percent of the battle anyway.

Perhaps it would help to define who I am, who I choose to be now by generating a list.

  • I am open-minded.
  • I am Loving.
  • I am receptive to criticism.
  • I am a morning person.
  • I am creative.
  • I am enthusiastic.
  • I am always looking for a good laugh.
  • I am idealistic.
  • I am decisive.
  • I am constantly improving.
  • I am driven.
  • I am a good communicator.
  • I am spontaneous.
  • I am (also) well prepared.
  • I am well connected to my emotions.
  • I am a hard worker.
  • I am in recovery.
  • I am kind.
  • I am artistic.
  • I am concerned more for others than myself.
  • I am organized (at work…)
  • I am blessed.

A rundown of qualities is all fine and well, but coming up with a list of my inadequacies is probably much more useful to REALLY answering “Who am I?” It’s important to note I do NOT currently consider these as defects like I used to. I see them now as nothing more than areas needing the most attention.

 

  • I am a procrastinator.
  • I am a poor listener.
  • I am out of shape.
  • I am impatient.
  • I am an interrupter.
  • I am forgetful.
  • I am disorganized (at home…)
  • I am not using my time wisely.
  • I am putting off my dreams.
  • I am not practicing my art like I know I should.
  • I am not even close to my potential.
  • I am annoyed by reminders of what I should do.
  • I am not as healthy as I could be.
  • I am judgmental.
  • I am wired for addiction.
  • I am stubborn.
  • I am loud.
  • I am undisciplined.
  • I am undereducated.

It’s difficult to self-diagnose, and I’m sure even my closest friends could write a longer list of my needed “upgrades” than I could. The good news is I AM on a path of constant improvement. It’s not as fast as I’d like it to be and I do often find myself taking two steps back for every three forward, but these side trips do not discourage me in the end.

So, “Who am I?”

I’m a work in progress, I’m a person who won’t ever go into “glide mode”. I am opposite of everything I don’t want to be, and honestly, that’s a damn good place.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

114. PLEASURE AND HAPPINESS

Pleasure and happiness are commonly interpreted as interchangeable. They aren’t. Like the collaborative relationships of nature, north and south, man and woman, day and night, and so on, they share a singular purpose but have significantly different energies. Embracing or aligning with just one end of the spectrum will eventually result in oblivion for both. This observation can be made in a personal context as well. Our duality of existence is thought and action, or perhaps more easily relatable to most as spirit and body. Both of our “worlds” need the proper nourishment to survive, feeding one and starving the other will result in dangerous imbalances, yet this type of lifestyle is exactly what we are taught.

Looking around there are endless examples suggesting we seek one thing, pleasure, and ALL pleasure is designed to please either the body or the ego. The list is ridiculously long and reminders are everywhere. Ads for food, cars, clothing, money, drugs, image, and on and on are plastered ad nauseum in commercials, movies, television, magazines, billboards, and honestly anywhere our eyes might wander. The hope is, of course, to appeal to our need for pleasure. It may even be safe to say most of it is designed to reinforce our desire to not lose pleasure. In any case the energy that drives our lust for pleasure is… fear. Fear that we don’t have what might make our lives better, fear of not being able to sustain our lifestyle, and fear of being left behind while the rest of the human race steps up their game. Pleasure isn’t evil, never was. It’s our imbalance of pursuit that’s the cause misery. Any life lived from the outside-in eventually leads to pain and suffering. When we identify who we are by external methods we quite literally let go of our control of self-image. Our foundation becomes based on “stuff” rather than ideas. principles, ethics, beliefs, and dreams. The oft misquoted Bible verse from 1 Timothy 6:10 sums up the idea rather nicely, even if one isn’t Christian – “For the love of money (or, all things material in nature) is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.”

We are creatures of thought FIRST, because without thought, we cannot act. It doesn’t matter if the thoughts are “good” or “bad”, conscious or subconscious; intent always precedes achievement. Yes, outside influences can trigger decision making, but actions are still powered by choice, which means it’s something we can learn to manipulate. Therefore, if one seeks a stable existence, then one must do so from the inside out. Not only that, once we realize how it works, we are obligated to become more and more aware of what we are thinking so what we really want aligns with what we want to manifest. If most of our thoughts (subconscious or not) are negative to begin with, then life has no choice to react outside of us in a destructive manner. It’s not that difficult to observe, negative people lead destructive lives, positive people lead constructive lives.

Happiness is generated from within. It’s produced from an attitude of appreciation, tolerance, empathy, and all the qualities that make up what we label as Love. It’s Love that fuels the power of this elusive emotion. While pleasure is based solely in the physical world, happiness is mental in origin. The journey from our inner existence to our outer one is easier than one might think. Don’t take my word for it, look for examples in other people, especially those who have come back from dark places and you will see the truth of it. If you’ve ever wondered why some are “blessed” with abundance coupled with ACTUAL happiness, it’s because they have learned to live life from spirit first. They are the ones with ethics, they are the ones who never mock or scorn others, they are the ones we are most envious of.

Finally we come to the dual purpose of these seemingly opposing forces. Where pleasure and happiness balance each other out, peace originates, and peace is the most elusive of all pursuits. It carries the most value because this is where we become free from the burdens of worry and regret. This is where we stop judging and start accepting, especially who WE OURSELVES are. This slim border between our two energies is where we as humans are meant to live and thrive. So few have, and they are the ones we worship.

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With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

104. IF I COULD SNAP MY FINGERS

I believe redemption (not necessarily as a theology would define it) is available to the most desolate; because if it isn’t, how could it possibly be available to anyone? Are there really souls so lost they have no hope of manifesting the best life has to offer? Millions feel this way, as did I, but now that I’ve both experienced and witnessed miracles, you’ll never convince me otherwise. Even if it’s for an instant, the gift of true freedom lies in wait; all one needs is a single perfect moment. For the right price, it’s ours. Everyone holds the currency, but hardly anyone knows what it is, let alone how to spend it.

The best people I know today are the worst ones I would have never trusted, listened to, or associated with in the past. Criminals all, and leave there be no doubt, I was one myself. When we find a passage out of darkness, when we learn to step ahead of our demons, when we tear down our self-constructed prisons, and when we find health and happiness again, two things happen; we are simultaneously lifted from the gutters, and we become synchronous with life itself.  We are filled with light, purpose, and gratitude.  I’ve written this before and I mean it more than ever as the days of my life roll by –

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It is NOT, however, our place to force such information upon others. We merely should be the beacon that lights the path. It is up to the individual to “drink” or not. I say at the beginning of this entry “If I could snap my fingers…” meaning of course what would I manifest if I had one wish? Would it be to give those who are lost everything they think they want and desire? You may not believe this, but that kind of thought process violates my ethics. Good or bad, I would NEVER force anything whatsoever on another person if I felt what they sought could ultimately be earned. Rewards struggled for, fought for, and ultimately won, are the ones we treasure the most.

If I could snap my fingers this is what I would create –

We live in a world where we praise those doing well and belittle and judge those doing poorly. It breaks my heart to see such cancerous behavior. Inspiration is obviously needed most where it is lacking the most. With the glut of reality television these days I see an opportunity to change lives, and in turn, perhaps even mankind’s future for the better.

I would like to see a show where a group of people who have experience and passion to help others go to different cities, gather those who are willing; the homeless, broken, abused, and so on, and offer them a real way to hit the reset button on their lives. The process would be six fold.

  1. Choose a recovery program – By “recovery” I mean more than what many might jump to conclude. If one is in a precarious physical or mental state, this is a vital choice, one that requires humility and courage. Most people living in conditions of despondency are in need of a structured starting point. I myself am a “graduate” of the 12 step process, but I’m far from believing this is the only or best way.  That would be presumptuous on my part and disrespectful to those who’ve completed other methods of re-positioning their lives. Besides, the “anonymous” part of these programs would have little to no meaning in a public forum. Many of the “steps” that follow are woven into recovery programs anyway, so this is the most logical and important of the six I’ve suggested.
  2. Pick a mentor – All of us need direction, though a lot won’t admit it. The best, fastest, and most reliable way to find what one wants is to do nothing more than follow the trails blazed by those who came before us. We do not clone ourselves by doing this as many would argue, we strengthen the chain of those who choose follow. It has been my experience that people who have hit bottom and risen to heights once thought of as impossible are more than willing to help others. There is no lack of potential leadership.
  3. Pick a path of spirit –  Notice I did not say “spiritual path.” What I mean by spirit is to nourish the basic human need to feel right from the inside. Life does NOT get better from the outside in. Never will. Ever. Old belief systems, old “programs” which no longer serve must be overwritten with ones that do serve. This takes a TON of willingness and open-mindedness on the part of the person looking to stop their ship from sinking. The most common definition attached to such types of dynamics are referred to as “criticisms” which, by the way, NEVER feel good. Here is where the garden is weeded. Most will not bow to such actions, the ego is too powerful. A few, however, will go on to great things and inspire others especially if the transformation is public. There are a plethora of ways to follow through with this choice. Physiological evaluation is an excellent way to look in the mirror as it were. If there are those who choose something a bit more academic, books, seminars, and so on, that’s healthy as well; and if religion is the way for some, so be it, I have no arguments there. Just pick something and follow through on it.
  4. Start a health and physical program – They say one cannot judge a book by its cover. That’s a lie. I’m tired of hearing it too. Can one project a sense of self-worth in the way they display who they are? Damn right. If one is obviously lack in taking care of themselves, are they able to provide a better life for others? Probably not.  I’m NOT speaking of becoming self-centered or superficial with how we present ourselves, I’m talking about honoring the “house” we live in, our bodies. When the body is malfunctioning (or repels others) because of neglect, we lose the ability to interact with life as we were meant to. There are, of course, physical limitations many cannot overcome, but that’s not what’s being spoken of here. Many, many conditions are reversible, and there are thousands who’ve already proved it.
  5. Face the past – All excuses for crappy behavior are rooted in the past. It is vital this action must be addressed, from contacting law enforcement about unaddressed transgressions, to facing those we have wronged on a personal or ethical level and asking for amends, to admitting our own mistakes and owning them, this step cannot be overlooked. In a nutshell this part of the program is about ridding oneself of excuses. No excuses equals no more self-destructive behavior. Period.
  6. Learn a new skill or refresh an old one – If education has been deserted, it must be corrected. Haven’t finished high-school or followed through on that degree?, this will be focused upon. If one has a desire to step into a new trade or skill, that’s fine as well. One cannot function in society without purpose nor can one function in one’s own life without purpose. If purpose has been to get to the next high, well, that’s a horrible purpose, one that life will rid itself of quickly. The more we increase our value, the more we have a reason to live; the more LIFE wants us to live.

I also feel doctors, both medical and physiological, would have to be part of the show. In my opinion it would be irresponsible to offer less than this to both the participants and viewers.

Each year one season would take place in a major city. Sponsorship of rewards (jobs, housing, etc) for those who make it through to the last episode should be rather easy to entice. Let’s face it, the cause is not only good advertisement, it’s the right thing to do anyway. Everyone who’s truly willing to turn their lives around deserves a chance. I got lucky, not many do.

What would be the name of the show?

“Redemption” of course…

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

103. A MAD LIB FOR ADDICTS PART 2

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Well, here we go again, another mad lib for those looking to lighten the mood. Many of us have a past filled with cringe inducing memories. Dwelling there can fuel regret and in turn ignite new and destructive behaviors in the present. This pattern is all too common, and it’s one of the covert ways addiction tries to reboot itself. Learning to cope with personal history and forgive ourselves, even to the point of laughing at who we were, is an important step in starting to remove our symbolic chains.  Doing so can help purge our outdated and flawed database of excuses. Please read the opening for my first entry because it further clarifies why I’m doing this. Here is the link –  75. A MAD LIB FOR ADDICTS

As before there’s no way to utilize a fill-in-the-blank format for this entry. Please use a separate piece of paper and simply match the numbers. The choices I have provided for the blanks make things a lot more specific than your typical mad-lib. It’ll come out much funnier this way, trust me. Try to fill out your form without scrolling all the way down or highlight just the word prompts on the top half and print it out. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Even more confessions of an addict

  1. A yummy food ______________________
  2. A yucky food ______________________
  3. A number _______________________
  4. A weird object(s) ________________________
  5. A moderately high number ________________________
  6. Any laundry item ________________________
  7. Disgusting adjective ________________________
  8. Something smelly ________________________
  9. Embarrassing action ________________________
  10. Adverb or adverbial phrase (how did you jump? like an idiot, quickly, halfheartedly) ________________________
  11. A person you don’t like ________________________
  12. A way of speaking ________________________
  13. A famous song that has lyrics ________________________
  14. A person you associate with ________________________
  15. A way to put something in your body (feel free to get REALLY creative here, it can be a phrase) ________________________
  16. A hazardous substance ________________________
  17. Something addictive, doesn’t have to be a drug ________________________
  18. An action directed towards an object or person ________________________
  19. Another action directed towards an object or person ________________________
  20. A famous person ________________________
  21. A weird or made-up deity (God) or an object of devotion ________________________
  22. A fluid ________________________
  23. A plural object capable of holding a small amount of something ________________________
  24. An undesirable place ________________________
  25. An article of clothing or costume ________________________
  26. A weird person ________________________
  27. Objects ________________________
  28. People (age groups, occupation groups, lifestyle groups as in cops, babies, bums, etc., you get the idea) ________________________

Just like the first one I posted, this one works the same way. Words with a ( ) are optional to help flesh out and make sense of the players chosen words.

  1. My favorite food to eat after getting wasted is _____1_____ mixed with _____2_____.
  2. Once during a blackout I got online and bought _____3_____ _____4_____ for _____5_____ dollars.
  3. At one time I went so long without washing my _____6_____ that they ended up smelling like _____7_____ _____8_____.
  4. One of the shameful things I’ve done is  _____9_____  _____10_____ and then (ended up) blaming ____11_____ for it.
  5. Unbeknownst to me, my friends once filmed me _____12_____ all the words to _____13_____ while I was trying to talk to (my, the, a) _____14_____.
  6. The first time I tried to sober up I desperately tried _____15_____ ground up (liquefied) _____16_____ because I couldn’t find (or “wouldn’t”) _____17_____.
  7. I once found a picture on my phone of me _____18_____ and _____19_____ (on) a statue of _____20_____.
  8. Someone once told me that at twelve-step meetings they worship _____21_____ and drink _____22_____ out of _____23_____.
  9. I once woke up in (an) _____24_____ wearing nothing but a (an) _____25_____ and looking like _____26_____.
  10. I remember stealing _____27_____ and trying to them to _____28_____.

Please put your responses into the comments below so all of us can share in your laughter!

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

88. YOU ARE LOVED

Water

Do not despair, do not give up, do not shut yourself away. Ask for help, ask for Love, ask for life.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

87. A DYING WISH

generics

When I turned nineteen in 1983 I moved into my first apartment. It instantly became clear that this was not going to be the freedom filled adventure of youthful fantasy. My take-home income was around four hundred dollars a month and my bills added up to about three hundred and twenty of that. I didn’t own transportation so there was no financial burden in this category. I didn’t even have a phone. I did however have a quiet, clean place to call home only two blocks from both work and the nearest grocery store. I had my art, my books, and a (color) television to help pass the time. Food turned out to be a luxury. When it came to eating my belly was filled from the generic aisle. In the eighties there was a “fad” in nationwide supermarkets of extreme no-frills, basic products. They were generally at least half the cost of the lowest comparable item and the quality barely matched the price. Here was my salvation from starvation. Most of my consumption was in the form of macaroni and cheese dinners at 10 for a dollar, ten pound bags of potatoes, and butter and sour cream. My high carb, high fat diet provided enough energy to keep me from looking for a third source of income.

Because I worked nights, and held down two jobs, my social life consisted primarily of talking to whomever I happened to be in the vicinity of. I’d never been a party going person nor did I pursue any other kind of pastime that would have drained my wallet. I’d been in a couple relationships already but wasn’t jumping at a chance to renew the experience; besides I couldn’t have afforded a girlfriend even if I wanted one. As it turned out, I didn’t need money at all. On one of my rare days off I came home from the store to find a woman moving into my apartment complex. I was surprised to learn she was on her own, apparently a couple of friends had let her down. So, me being me, I jumped in and began helping. Turned out she has secured the unit directly below mine. Within a couple of hours we had all her possessions through the door. Once it was set up her place was almost as sparse as mine. I found out she was manager of a General Nutrition Center in a local mall and was in the middle of some life changes. There was a ten-year age difference between us but that didn’t stop us from becoming fast friends.

I discovered rather quickly she was in (recent) recovery from alcoholism, but that meant little to me. She seemed normal enough and as time strode on our friendship branched into prolonged visits and activities which she paid for and I gladly accepted. Going to the movies or a restaurant was a rare event in those days and I jumped at the chance to do anything other than sleep and work. Eventually, and probably inevitably, our friendship turned more intimate.

I remember during one of our conversations she mentioned she hated to hear men say they loved her. I was understandably confused at her statement and asked why. She said it was because it always turned out to be a lie. One day I was watching her put on makeup and get ready for work. I must have been staring at her a little weird because she suddenly blurted out, “Don’t look at me that way!” I was a deer in the headlights. “What way?” I asked feeling really nervous. “You’re looking at me like you love me.” I couldn’t and wouldn’t say it. It had been purposely set up this way; at least it felt like it at the time. Soon after the entire fling fell apart. She ended up going out with another man behind my back and I began to build a wall of self-pity. The foundation of this eventual prison was built on a single desire; the one that almost killed me.

“I wish I couldn’t feel Love.”

Everything I did for years was tethered to avoiding the action and emotion of Love. Slowly, painfully, this pursuit drove all the passion, all the color, and all the variety out of my life. I became a generic person, a “human” who “worked” and “ate.” My value to the rest of humanity was soon bottom shelf. Living only for the sake of living will eventually cause one to run out of reasons to continue, and in time that’s exactly what happened to me. Survival was my singular quest and even that began to erode with a lifestyle of escalating self-abuse. My primary goal was quite honestly, oblivion. I shunned any responsibility other than those involving support of my my basic needs; earning enough money to buy alcohol and stay off the streets.

For twelve long years I lost touch with my spirit until quite by accident I invited Love back into my life. It re-manifested by uttering a single, heartfelt word.

“Help.”

When I finally reached out with a willingness to leave everything behind, including my possessions, my belief systems, and even my acquaintances, I found an abundance of outstretched arms willing to guide and support me. The trip has been stormy and frightening, but never have I lost my footing. When I couldn’t see ahead I was carefully led. Every action that pulled me further from certain doom was carried out with patience, compassion, and understanding. My surrender of the past and embracement of a mostly unknown future has remained dedicated and focused. As a result, twenty years later, I now have what many may see as an enviable life. I’m at peace, I have a beautiful, loving, responsible, and sober wife who’s also my best friend. There’s no need for anything yet I have access to resources for manifesting whatever I want. Best of all I’m back in touch with myself.

You see, when I decided Love wasn’t worth pursuing, I unintentionally lost what positive feelings I had for myself. A connection to spirit vanished. The decision to eliminate this action, this emotion, led to the eventual elimination of ALL motivation and feeling. No matter where Love may lead me now, I choose to embrace it because it is the nourishment of a life well lived, and I encourage all to feast.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood