Personal growth

168. THIRTY YEARS IN RECOVERY

Well… 24 hours later than usual, but no matter. Here’s my yearly post –

I recall a day, actually the exact moment sometime back in the eighties when I made a decision that would change my life forever. I wanted to find out just how much I could drink and not have anyone suspect I was, in fact, totally hammered. Initially it was challenging and fun. Not only that, I was extremely successful, which fed my ego, the last thing in my life needing inflation. Even at the end of my “career” my own father was astonished when I told him I had a handle of rot gut vodka in me. He swore up and down he had no idea. This self-centered and highly dangerous game almost killed me. My closest colleagues had no idea the extent of my disease. I remained productive (at least at work), walked a straight line, and never slurred my speech. By the way, I’m not an idiot either, it’s very possible certain people knew my condition but were either hesitant or unfamiliar as how to approach me about addressing it. It was a game of deception, one that benefited no one whatsoever and, ultimately, it ended up harming countless innocent people. By the summer of 1994 my perception of reality was swiftly bending into the realm of torturous insanity, and the game became an unavoidable 24/7 nightmare. I was totally dependent on alcohol. Too much and I’d pass out, too little and I’d get the DTs.

I talk about my recovery many times on this blog, and to recap, I finally (and astonishingly) sobered up in the summer of 1995. July 28th to be exact. Strangely, in January of that same year I had made a vow to just die and get the pain and futility of my life over with. All I owned and earned was hopelessness. I felt I had no leverage to summon anything but oblivion, so I simply threw up my hands and waited for what I thought was going to be an inevitable outcome. I had no idea that being in a place of total surrender would invite the very thing that was missing from my life, guidance and direction offered and accepted without hesitation. I willingly put my faith and future into the hands and hearts of others. They say when the student is ready the teacher appears. As clichéd as it may sound, this was my experience. I walked into those early meetings a dry sponge. If it was suggested I did it. If it was directed, I did it. Some might suspect I would become a clone of the people who embraced me. Such was not the case. I took with gratitude the best they could give and shaped my own unique life. To this day I treasure and practice their gifts.

I’m glad my fate (and serendipitous faith) have steered me true. Three decades without a drop. It really does feel like I’ve lived two separate lives, and it does not feel like thirty years, thank God. It’s actually motivating that my self-spawned demons of the past are still easily heard and seen. It’s nice to be clear and focused about where I intend to progress, but there’s a strange comfort in constant recognition of what I don’t want, and that’s the greatest gift of life I possess.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

167. I AM AN ORANGE

I am an orange.

This obvious metaphor comes directly from Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, and he spoke of it many times. While it crosses my mind frequently, it’s somewhat annoying because it tests me more than I’d like, and usually on a daily basis. The original question goes, “What comes out of an orange when it’s squeezed?” The answer is, of course, orange juice. Why? Because that’s what’s inside an orange to begin with. The answer is simple and undeniable. The comparison this is leading to is “What comes out of YOU when you get squeezed?”  Me? Well… when the pressure is turned up, and depending on the situation, for the most part I do my best to remain cool and rational, but I do react compulsively far more than I’m comfortable with, which means, yes, I do still lose my temper, get frustrated, and raise my voice.

I have a healthy jealousy of people who can keep their emotional pendulum from swinging too much. I work with a few and their approach to life is enviable, at least to me. Mine often moves around as if it were a four-year old hopped up on birthday cake in a bouncy house. Most of the time my attitude is a mixture of serious and goofy, if that makes any sense. I stay on point with almost all of my responsibilities, but as I do I welcome associated humor and positive angles with a practiced mindset, which often leads me to a harmless humorous remark, but occasionally I receive a heaping dose of foot in mouth.

I recall a time, about fifteen years ago where I was in the job and I noticed another trade grab what I thought was our sixty foot roll of 2” soft copper, a very expensive item. I was totally convinced that they had stolen it, and I lost my mind. I was in full emotional meltdown and it’s a wonder the crew didn’t gang up and beat me to dust. Have you ever recognized those inevitable unwanted and distasteful behaviors your parents informally programmed you with come out of you? I did that day, and my reflex was instant shame and remorse. As you could have guessed, I found OUR roll within a few minutes of my tirade and realized what they had was theirs all along. Looking to remedy the situation as soon as possible I left the job, bought a case of Gatorade along with two dozen donuts and headed back looking to make what amends I could. They were grateful and appreciative of my gesture (it was a 100+ degree day and we were outside) and in the end all was forgiven, but the memory now has a permanent resonation to it.

A decade and a half later I’ve had a few slips, but nothing close to what happened that day. Since then I’ve made consciously focused efforts to react calmly, and not only that, respond slower to situations that would have had me tackled at the speed of sound into a straitjacket in my youth. These days I take the time to analyze the situation and approach whatever’s going on with logic and information rather than judgement and emotion. One might think in doing so I’m repressing feelings that should be expressed, and I AM an advocate of letting those ‘spirits’ out, both positive and negative, as quickly as possible, but there’s a secret many may not know about. When I feel a dark reaction building and I take what amounts to nothing more than a fleeting moment to face it and acknowledge it, I’m given the power to transform it, not ignore or bury it.

As I confessed straight away in the first paragraph, my approach is not perfect, and all too often I fantasize about going off on a tangent of colorful insults, comebacks, defenses, and threats when I think my bubble of serenity and conviction is being invaded. Self-analysis in these circumstances is not equal to self-doubt, it’s an indication of an underlying need and longing to grow beyond instinct and past ego.

Those who speak and behave firmly and softly with focus and reason, whether it be as an action or reaction, command attention, respect, and action. Those who do the reverse invite an audience that will ignore, loathe, and resist them.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

164. GODSHOTS PODCAST WITH LYDIA CORNELL #4 – BOOK DISCUSSION

One thing’s for sure, I’m blessed to have serendipitously met Lydia Cornell whose ethics and principles concerning self-help and recovery are nearly identical to mine. Both of us want a world free from abuse. Peacefully eradicating outer circumstances is a shared concern, but our main goal is to overcome those clandestine forces we unknowingly invite which seek to destroy us from within. 

The older I get the more I recognize that everyone carries a history of pain. Some manipulate their track record into a manifesto of self-destructive excuses, while others use their situations to try and showcase how one can rise above those experiencing similar circumstances. Not that I want to throw myself under the bus, but I have explored both paths which, if nothing else, grants me clarity from each perspective. Thankfully, I’ve walked the one which has the most power to keep me alive for quite some time now, though I’ve slipped occasionally.

In this episode we talk about the recent publication of my book. I’m pleased to say that Lydia agrees my message is one of hope, encouragement, and purpose. There’s a link and information in my last blog post as to where one can purchase it.

Please keep in mind that I am not the only person she has interviewed. In fact her podcast goes back years with many wonderful people who also feel and express themselves similarly. I encourage you to explore the variety of guests she has produced.

Thank you Lydia for the opportunity to continue our occasional partnership of optimistic action.

Click here for the podcast – 

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

163. PUBLISHED

 

Well…

I’m finally published. Took long enough, but it’s done. If I’m aware of anything, however, it’s knowing that having a book ‘out there’ equates with nothing more than putting on athletic shoes before a marathon, the real race lies ahead, and all I’ve done is gotten dressed. I’d better start running now, because my age and health are catching up to another inevitable finish line, and the clock is ticking.

I’m not overwhelmed by what lies ahead, I’ve climbed many mountains, and I’ll continue to do so as long as I seek challenges and adventures. What’s different about this journey is two-fold. Firstly,  I do feel somewhat ‘blindfolded’. Normally my intended path, while often set with obstacles and trials, is fairly well focused, but this time there’s a fog between where I am and where I will end up. I know what I want in the end, I know what outcome I demand, but there’s a huge difference this time because I simply don’t have access to the tools to plan and execute my trip, which means I need to rely on advice and guidance from people who are already where I want to be. It honestly feels a lot like when I first sobered up. I need a ton of faith and a whole lot less ego if I’m to take the proper direction seriously. Teacher/student is my only choice. I don’t have time for trial and error.  Secondly, my health is seriously holding me back from intent. My arthritis which is in every joint now, is compounding,  and my days are filled with severe, constant pain. Some are indeed better than others, but when it’s bad it interferes with everything. Luckily my work as a new construction plumber is still up to the quality I demand from myself and frankly, it’s a nice distraction when I stay focused and busy, but when I get home I fall into my chair and scream. My ‘free’ time is rarely used these days to follow up on motivations of continuing my vision. But I do promise this, I WILL find a way, I always have.

If you’re curious about the content of my publication I will say this, it’s similar in nature to my blog, but much more concise and usable for anyone looking to find a way to start a life path towards both purpose and reward. Some subjects are to be expected, but the majority of them are fairly unique and it all threads into a fantastic finish line, I promise. I’ve had two professionals in the field of recovery and psychology read it so far, and they basically both handed it the same highly praised complement, which relieved me greatly.

It’s written from the perspective of an ordinary person, and it’s easy to read too. It’s also short, only about 100 pages. I’m hesitant to put a link here to where one can find it, but it would be both disrespectful and ignorant to not do so.

Click here  – Insight out

The price for the hardback is WAY too high (as has been pointed out by a trusted friend) and I am working on lowering the cost, but the paperback is okay, and the Kindle version is totally affordable. It is on multiple web sites like Barnes & Noble and even Walmart. If you’d rather not use the link just type in my full name, Daniel Andrew Lockwood, and it should pop up. I do ask one favor, not for me, but for anyone else looking to find a solid path in life.  If you do indeed read it, please leave a review so others can be enticed into discovering it.

Lastly, I did not write this seeking fame or money, and anyone who knows me also knows this is 100% correct. I don’t give a damn about either of those things. I already have a great job and I’m picky about my social life. I’m also not stupid. If it does gain momentum and notice, then I’ll gladly play the part, because in the end all that matters is helping as many people as possible. I came to the conclusion many years ago that life is not about me, it never has been, and this tome is the result of that belief.

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With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

 

162. 29 YEARS IN RECOVERY

Twenty-nine years ago today I took my last drink, but twenty-nine years, four months, and nine days ago, when I was obviously feeling pretty lousy, I sat down and wrote myself a small letter. It was most likely during one of my countless ten-hour overnight janitorial shifts in either a Marshalls or TJ Maxx clothing store. Even though it’s been almost three decades back, I can still instantly access the pain of that time along with all the feelings of hopelessness I was drowning in.

One might think those memories would be a burden, nightmares meant to be left behind and never revisited, but that’s not the case. Those periods where my future was hanging by a thread continue even now to provide leverage that makes manufacturing my daily dose of gratitude all too easy.

The note I’m referencing was lost for almost twenty-seven years, and a long time passed where I’d forgotten about it. After writing it I carried it in my wallet and read it every day. Although it did not directly stop me from drinking, I do feel it planted a seed. That seed began to grow through a continued groping in the darkness looking for a way out. The missing element which completed my escape was surrender, and by surrender, I mean verbal surrender.

It might sound a bit too ‘metaphysical’ for some here, but I really do believe writing down what we want AND eventually saying aloud that you’ll do anything to find salvation and absolution are two of the most powerful tools we humans have at our disposal. I’ve experienced it as well as witnessed it. 

The letter is a bit difficult to actually read, so here’s the text –

March 18, 1995

The next time I feel the urge to drink I promise to sit down and read this. I feel like shit, I’m depressed, and I want to die. I’m losing sleep and I’m losing my mind. I’m dragging everybody down with me. I can’t eat right and I’m hurting myself. I must change the way I think. I must turn to God and ask whatever is necessary that I may live again before I die. I’m tired of being scared and forgetting things. There is always something better to do than drink. I’m wasting money and I’m pushing my luck. I don’t talk to my friends anymore. I’m ashamed. I want to like myself again. I’m tired of lying. I’m tired of making excuses.

Reading this now, 29 years sober, I’m grateful I can still touch the past, for without it I wouldn’t have the added value that makes today priceless.

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With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

157. 28 YEARS IN RECOVERY

It’s been an odd year. My last job was so involved that I’ve had little time to attend to my blog. If you’re from Denver, or you’re a South Park fan, then you know about Casa Bonita, which is really a bit of an indoor carnival/Mexican restaurant. If memory serves, it seats up to seven hundred at a time, so it’s damn big. Since the previous menu needed purged and badly upgraded a world-class chef was also brought on board to revamp the menu. Both her skills and her personality are impressive. The food is indeed much better as are the inner workings of the establishment itself. From May of last year to June of this year I was the plumbing foreman in charge of the remodel. We had to sign NDA’s (understandably) and other paperwork that would allow the creators, Matt Stone and Trey Parker, to turn us into cartoon characters if they so choose. It was a huge challenge and I’m glad it’s over.

During this time I’ve been dealing with hyper increased arthritis, which my rheumatologist says I have in every joint now. I can even feel it in my jaw which clicks and crunches, but thank God it doesn’t keep me from being a blabbermouth, at least not yet. Two weeks ago I went in for a pro-op to get my left knee replaced on August 2nd (the right one was done a year and a half ago) only to find out, in their words, I have massive blood clots in both lungs and behind my left knee. The blood thinners I’m on are causing migraines which are pretty disabling, but they are getting better. Also, because of the clots I have trouble breathing which adds to my energy level being pretty low. For now (but not forever, I like to work too much) I’m on short term disability which is a nice safety net. 

One thing’s for sure, other people are definitely going though much worse than me, in fact the weekend I went into the hospital a beloved coworker was in a horrific motorcycle accident. He’s alive but his injuries are extensive. Another of my coworkers has cancer. They are on my mind all the time.

If all these events are a test to see if I’ll turn back to the bottle, then I’m winning hands down. This path never enters my mind as a way to escape. Last night I had a lucid dream where I was using again. I was lying in bed, knowing I was ‘awake’ and asking myself if my wife could smell my breath while I tried to go to the bathroom without looking like I was drunk. These episodes feel as real as anything in life and it always takes me a while to shake off the illusion. I’ve said it before, my occasional nightmares of slipping are a precious gift that keeps the horror close, even twenty-eight years later.

My wife bought me the item in the picture above. It’s nice she cares and celebrates with me.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

156. FOR ART’S SAKE

I am, and always will be, a fan of art, both as an observer and in practice. I’m an artist myself, one who chooses to express my proclivity through many mediums. These days writing is my main outlet, but I do have a painting and drawing studio in my home, one filled with all kinds of resourceful tools; too many, in fact. My collection is so extensive I had to buy a large upright rolling toolbox in place of a traditional taboret. I own a few easels as well as an ancient drafting table along with its traditional accoutrements. In paintbrushes alone I hoard over two hundred, and I have stacks of various art pads and canvases. I must admit, however, that my amateur skills in this area have waned as I have grown older, and admittedly, lazier. Most of the time they collect dust, but at least they are there when the mood strikes.

Often, when I mention a personal inclination and enthusiasm towards an artistic frame of mind, many of my colleagues will, without hesitation, deny that they have the same tendencies. While I’m hesitant to call anyone a liar, they are, in fact, totally incorrect. The stereotypical and shallow-minded definition of art is not limited to the contents of museums, libraries, and concert halls, it literally saturates our surroundings, and this includes all things both man-made and natural.

The inability or unwillingness to recognize this in everything is a subconscious attitude of apathy towards the world. This choice robs us of a connection from spirit (or imagination) to manifestation, and without this frame of mind, all the work we do becomes nothing more than programming and drudgery. It’s important to point out that almost all of us were, as children, deeply involved in all kinds of artistic activities. Crayons and glue, clay, colored paper and paper airplanes, coloring books and paint were associated with leisure and fun. So was singing, pretending, and looking for dragons in the clouds. This is because we were still connecting to the world from the inside out rather than the outside in. We wanted to reach out to everything at one point and make it blossom, but for many the reverse eventually happens and sadly, we decide our efforts are a waste of time. Instead of creating the rain that makes things grow, we choose to believe it’s better or easier to wait for the right conditions to come to us. We want reward without action, not realizing the reward IS the action. Everyone has an inner garden, and while some have ignored or neglected theirs, they can always be revived to a point of flourishing if properly attended to. The seeds of creativeness may lie dormant, but they are never nonexistent.

Passionate expression isn’t just a personal pursuit, it is an enviable one, meaning the person who’s best at envisioning and subsequently producing something, can often be an inspiration to others. This action radiates magnetism and demands an audience. Not only that, the process is transferable. It can be consciously shifted into other, unexplored, or unconsidered areas. For example, if a person is an expert at restoring cars, there’s no reason this obsessive energy can’t be refocused into becoming a skillful cook. 

They say practice makes perfect. This clichéd saying is its own dichotomy. If practice makes perfect, then the time will come when practice is no longer necessary, and since perfection is both unattainable and highly subjective, then practice is a waste of time to begin with. Personally, I don’t like the word practice. It’s been my experience that the Pavlovian response to the (covert) definition can stir up connections to previously perceived failures, and in turn it can lead to disenchantment and negative outcomes. I feel the word persistence is much more productive and positive. The vernacular may be subtle, but the consequences are obvious. The road of persistence is about the journey, and the only goal is to make the journey itself more and more pleasant.

And so we come to the idea of art in practical applications, not just as an occasional emotional outlet, but as an extension of everything we do. If we allow our inner spirit to influence outer actions, we reinforce purpose. If we apply an artistic frame of mind to most duties they’ll cease to be strictly motivated by gain and eventually become driven by how we deliver them. The side benifit is people will ALWAYS be willing to pay more for that which is done with an attention to detail and a disposistion for beauty. Gain (or profit) then becomes automatic. If we find a way to anchor enjoyment to our responsibilities, then does it not become a habit we want to repeat and enhance? With practice all movement becomes dance, all words become poetry, all we touch becomes sculpture, all we hear becomes music, and all we see becomes one vast painting.


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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood



147. A BLOODY CHILDHOOD

My childhood was lived in fear. I never had any siblings so I was sole the victim of my mother’s rage several times a week. Many times she would set an alarm clock next to the counter where I was washing dishes and if it went off before I was done, she’d start beating me with stretched out wire coat hangers at the sink. If I missed even one speck of anything, same consequence. I was screwed either way. Yes, I’ll admit I was indeed slow and I hated doing it. Gosh, I wonder why? When she was too lazy to vacuum, she used to make me crawl around picking things out of carpet while she pointed out what would catch her eye, and if I missed something, WHAM! Usually my whippings would not commence unless she made me strip totally naked first. As a little kid, even as young as kindergarten, I was often left home alone, and on the way out the door mother would take great pleasure in turning around to say, “When we get back you’re going to get a spanking.” The waiting was always worse than the actual incident; mental torture combined with physical pain.

All too often I’d go to school bruised, bleeding through my clothing. No one ever noticed that I knew of. I was the primary target of her mental instability and usually for some sort lousy excuse like “You’re not like other children, you’re much worse.” At the time I thought I actually was the catalyst of her behavior. As a result I spent a good deal of my childhood in introspection. Looking back all I can think is, wow. I was six, seven, eight, nine years old, who does this to a little kid? I was fed, clothed, housed, and so on, but to be honest, I never felt loved.

By default my father was just as guilty as my mother because although he was aware of what was happening, he never tried to stop anything. I didn’t realized this until it was pointed out in my early thirties. THAT sucked.

It’s a good thing my parents never had more kids. Who knows how they would have turned out.

There’s no doubt I was different and weird, still am, proudly I might add. Even as a boy my thoughts and behaviors were odd. “I’m learning patience, I’m learning what NOT to do to others when I get older, I’m finding other ways to eke out joy and peace from other avenues.” I was admittedly prone to be self-centered, loud, and pushy. These were traits I (hopefully) eventually grew out of as I became more and more self-aware.

Now, my life was NOT constant torture. I got birthday and Christmas presents. I had a few friends. I never went hungry. My parents did fight at the top of their lungs at least once a week, but they did not do drugs or drink, and of the two channels that we could get in the mountains, at least one that came in clear got my go-to, get away from reality show five days a week, Star Trek!

For years I blamed my adult misfortunes on a messed-up childhood. When I finally sobered up in 1995, my recovery came with a gift that allowed my burden to no longer be a matter of any consequence. I stopped blaming the past and started owning the present.

There’s another definition for removing blame from our lives it’s called…

FORGIVENESS.

Read on with a little courage and you just might find some peace.

Now, forgiveness is NOT what most people define it to be. It’s not saying you’re okay with what the other person did. It IS saying that you’re going to simply drop all those feelings of bitterness, hostility, rage, angst, revenge, darkness, and so on you may have toward someone. Why? Because no matter what, no one can take away your pain, no matter how much they may want to, no matter how much you want them to, you are the one who must drop it. You are the only one with the power to let go of the feelings that are ruining your life and giving you cancer.

Get it now? They cannot feel or remove YOUR pain, ever. No one is capable of that no matter how much of an empath they claim to be.

Good. I’m happy you understand.

My parents were, and still are, just screwed up people, and that’s all. In the middle of a shared insanity they had a kid who was caught in between. When I realized this it broke my heart. I have pity for them now. Their pain is something I do not have the power to remove. I wish I could.

You know, I was drinking two-fifths of vodka a day in the mid-nineties and it eventually caused an aneurysm while I was driving, yet I’m still here and so are you.

I have a great life. I have a beautiful wife who also is my best friend, a very good, well-paying job, a nice home, my credit rating is about as high as it can get, we take nice vacations, and we have plans for the future that include all kinds of pleasant things. Many years ago I would have used a gun on myself had I owned one. Glad I didn’t.

All the miracles and gifts I’ve received since my mental rebirth have been because I refuse to blame anyone for anything in my life anymore. NO ONE AT ALL. By the way, this includes everything labeled both good and bad.

Can people get over childhood neglect and abuse? Yes, and when done right it’ll propel one to the stratosphere of achievement.

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With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

146. LET’S TALK TALK

     

     I like to talk. A lot, probably too much. I know the all too familiar taste of my own foot, and the bitterness of saying the exact wrong thing at the worst possible moment. Over the years these incidents have forced me to hesitate ahead of opening my mouth. They’ve also taught me (through way too much trial and error) how to be tactful. One would think I’d slow down eventually, but I haven’t actually backed off my tendency to blither away with joyful abandon. I have, however, fine-tuned my idiot meter to a point where I rarely cringe after saying something.

     I enjoy listening to people who speak well, and have a healthy jealously of those who tend to address their audience as if they have a script memorized. I’d LOVE to think my skills in this area are above average, and someday maybe I’ll get a chance to test my confidence in this arena. I’m currently working to do podcasting on YouTube to link to this blog and we’ll se how this venture plays out.

     I believe the true art of talking is not necessarily about what’s being said, but in large part it has to do with knowing and respecting the audience. If don’t say something that’s wanting to be heard, I’ve lost the game before it even starts. I feel the absolute BEST are… comedians, and ALL great comics have the same three behaviors in common.
 

  • They will NOT say something they themselves don’t find interesting or amusing. One cannot help but laugh at someone who can’t get through their own joke without cracking up. I’ve seen plenty of comedians who are obviously going through old material, and it shows.
  • They ALL have a visual act that accompanies their delivery. Even such people as Stephen Wright and Bob Newhart, who are both famously reserved and indifferent, STILL present their characters with skill and precision. When you think of a few of the stratospheric names of the comic stage, George Carlin, Robin Williams, Rodney Dangerfield, Jim Carrey, Steve Martin, and Jerry Seinfeld you’ll have an instant picture of them in your head because of how attached their demeanor is to their content. God, especially Rodney. All you have to do is think of his face and you start laughing.
  • For good or bad they wait for the audience to react. Whether it’s thunderous applause and laughter, or bushels of rotten tomatoes catapulted at them, they practice timing. Johnny Carson, at least in my opinion, was a both a horrible AND a brilliant comedian because his schtick was knowing he sucked and then playing off the reaction rather than the delivery. THAT’S confidence in yourself, and people are drawn to it.

     You’ve probably seen performers who were just shuffling from one joke to the next with almost no variation in their voice or stance and wondered what was missing. I would say watching mannequins with monotoned prerecorded messages is pretty much the same experience for a lot of wannabes. If YOU don’t enjoy what you do, sell with enthusiasm (or at least a gimmick), and allow criticism, both good and bad, no one will pay attention. Enough about comedians, but you must admit, they are great examples of the art of speaking.

     Actors are also in the fold, and those who speak with magnificent skill are well remembered. Personally I’ve admired Cary Grant, Yul Brenner, Sean Connery, Jack Nicholson, and my favorite, Anthony Hopkins. Keep in mind that they too also have a very practiced and recognizable body language which works in perfect synchronization with whatever they’re saying.

     I’m well aware all of my examples so far are men, which stands to reason because I’m a man, and I’m going to be drawn to align and emulate those whom I admire. I, of course, in no way am purposefully ignoring women, it’s just that I’m more comfortable equating my aspirations with other males.

     So, onward with what I want to keep “talking” about.

     When I need to address someone on an important topic I use a trick to keep my thought process focused and flowing with a nice variety of words. Almost anyone can pick this skill up and I have explained and demonstrated it to several people over the years who were surprised that they too could do it so effortlessly. In the early nineties I was watching an interview on an early news show with the wife of someone who was then considered a dynamic public speaker. This is where I first heard of this technique. The interviewer asked her what made him so good at what seemed like instant, unprepared speeches. She said he clears his mind and imagines a blank blackboard in front of him. While he speaks, he simply let’s words manifest which will perpetuate what he’s trying to communicate to the listener. He then picks the next best option and continues the process until it’s no longer needed. I tried it, and to this day when I really do concentrate on keeping conversation on topic, it serves perfectly. Give it a shot and see for yourself. Now, you WILL find yourself pausing occasionally to make good choices, but to the listener it comes across as if they are witnessing someone who really cares about saying the right thing, which, of course, they are.

     One last point (and it is a selling point) I’d like to make is the usefulness of Toastmasters International. I’ve attended before, and they are extremely helpful for almost anyone who needs to hone their speaking skills for their careers or other personal reasons, and that seems to include the vast majority of humans to begin with. They allow people to attend for free for a while (which I encourage) but they’ll eventually ask them to sign up to get past a certain point. The dues are minimal and totally worth it. It’s been some time, but I believe they may be around 200.00 a year with payments allowed. Assignment material and other membership items like newsletters will be sent to your home. There is a structured itinerary and you can usually proceed at your own pace. The “classes” I’m familiar with usually last two hours once a week and have several segments in which members will participate including, speeches, interviews, telling jokes, improv, AND evaluation of your classmates among other things. It’s pretty casual and the people are, in my experience, very friendly. They also sponsor contests that go all the way to major cities and beyond. They are, as the name indicates, worldwide with thousands of chapters.

     Remember, speaking is a skill, one which can be mastered and leveraged to sell and create the deepest and wildest of dreams. Maybe someday I’ll see you out there changing the world because you read this post. You never know.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood


143. 26 YEARS SOBER

When I stopped drinking, I found I was dying of thirst. Yes, I had a temporary longing for what I’d left behind, but this wasn’t the REAL issue; my mind was suddenly parched. Just as stated in my entry, 140. A BRAND NEW LIBRARY, I went full bore into the ocean of new information, and while I spent my early days on the beaches of exotic mental locations, these days I find my wanderings to be less adventurous.

The winter of my life is nearing, I’ll be 57 this year, but this doesn’t mean I’m approaching the end, it simply means my outlook has shifted to different priorities. I no longer see the world as something to be conquered, I do not see life as a competition, and I certainly have no need to prove anything to anyone other than myself. That being said, I do still have high aspirations, and when I die, I plan to leave behind a full calendar of appointments and pursuits. What does bother me a little is my speed has slowed somewhat. I watch TV when I don’t need to, I waste time when I could be making the next move on my chessboard, and worst of all, I talk about what I want to do more than just doing it.

Time to shift gears.

For some reason I’ve begun to equate comfort with peace, and while I’ll always seek peace, it’s not necessarily incompatible with occasional doses of chaos. A comfortable life is, in a word, boring, and I’ve become way too comfortable, predictable, and repetitive. I’m NOT looking for discomfort, it’s a life of surprise, stimulation, and challenge which has been missing for far too long. Anticipation and excitement, in the proper proportions, are wonderful ways to spice up life. There’s nothing wrong with status quo if it’s what someone wants, but it’s not for me.

Today marks the completion of my 26th year of recovery and to celebrate I’m making a resolution to be in a much different, much better, and more rewarding place a year from now.

We’ll see in a year if my resolve has been strong enough. Don’t bet against me.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood