Self-improvement

Self-improvemant

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



155. WORDS IN THE DARK

When I was between the ages of nine and eleven, we moved into our third house in Colorado. My new room in this home happened to be in the attic. It was small, but the entire floor was all mine. Between first and tenth grade we ended up living in no less than nine places, so looking back, there was a decent variety of spaces to compare it to. I imagine this one ended up being the most memorable because of the privacy it provided. It had its own full-sized staircase with a door at the bottom. There was also a window that faced the backyard which not only helped to give the room a complete feel, but, when necessary, eased the hot summer nights and allowed the droning of crickets to fill an otherwise extreme mountain silence. My parents rarely came up as it was just big enough for my twin bed, a dresser, and a kid sized desk. If my memory is correct, they couldn’t even stand up fully. This was the best real estate I was to occupy up until I was in my twenties.

Over the stairway was an ancient globe light fixture that had a pull string switch I could reach from my bed. For some reason my father had put a low wattage blue bulb in it, and this ended up being fortuitous. When I needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, it was plenty to illuminate the way, but I often used it for more clandestine reasons, reading.

Once I started third grade, I was already quite the reader. Not because it came naturally, but more because the idea itself was intoxicating and therefore a worthwhile and satisfying pursuit. My parents had started teaching me at home when I was quite young, and when I realized what was (possibly) printed on undiscovered pages, it was like discovering new worlds. I’m also sure that being an only child fed into my favorite pastime. For most of my childhood all I really wanted for gifts were books. I recall going to the school library (still in third grade) determined to check out the biggest book I could find and tackle it. Now, I was focused on the BIGGEST, which in my mind meant size, so I’m glad I didn’t go for “The Complete works of Shakespeare” or something of that nature. The one I did pick happened to be “The Wonderful Wizard of OZ”. Honestly, it was a real struggle. My parents helped when asked and I bleeped over a lot of words, but I did make it through.

Soon after finishing the novel we moved into the house I previously mentioned. A neighbor who was a friend of my parents, and was the manager of a bookstore, knew I’d done this and to my surprise bought me “The Marvelous Land of OZ” for Christmas the following year, which is the second book in the original series of fourteen. I had no idea the storyline continued. When I found this out I went out of my freaking mind, and she was thrilled. She also bought me the complete boxed set of “Winnie the Pooh” which I adored. We called her ‘skinny Jenny’ and she was, but I remember her more for being very pretty and sweet. She had no children of her own so I suppose that played into her motives. In any case, Baum ended up as a staple in my library, even to this day. We knew her long enough for her to introduce me at a later age to the “Chronicles of Narnia” and “The Phantom Tollbooth”. The books she enthusiastically gifted ended up being my go-to fantasy escapes for years. To this day “Tollbooth” is still my favorite book.

Most nights, after I knew my parents were asleep, I’d quietly pop on my light, dim though it was, and read for hours, always with mixed feelings of paranoia that I’d be caught, and euphoria that I was getting away with it. At some point I had a little flashlight I used occasionally under my covers (this felt better, probably because it was sneakier) but batteries were hard to come by. One of my other stand-by authors during this time was Thornton W. Burgess who wrote the “Old Mother West Wind” series, which no one seems to remember these days even though he wrote close to one hundred seventy books.

Being read to by various teachers back in the day was my favorite class activity. It easily eclipsed art projects, softball, or even recess, and it too spurned me to continue feeding the habit. Here is where I first heard “James and the Giant Peach” (along with other Roald Dahl titles), “The Pushcart War” and “Half Magic” and at least a dozen other long forgotten titles.

By fourth and fifth grade my path found the Henry Reed series and Beverly Cleary’s collection, which included the joyful “The Mouse and the Motorcycle. “Charlotte’s Web” and “Stewart Little” by E. B. White were there as well. The road of discovery continued later through Edgar Rice Burroughs’ library, which I’ve often called ‘romance novels for guys’. Several hundred of his titles (I was an avid collector for years) in various editions, some extremely rare, still sit on my shelves to this day. As I grew older new interests and more serious publications caught my eye. In the eighties newspapers (remember those?) and magazines, particularly those of a scientific nature, were common distractions. Eventually my tastes shifted into self-help, psychological, and even spiritual titles, especially once I sobered up in nineteen ninety-five. Wayne W. Dyer, Alan Watts, and Viktor E. Frankl are currently part of my ever expanding foundation of influence. Audio books are a large part of my itinerary these days as well, and sites like YouTube provide an almost endless supply of free, previously unconsidered publications. Altogether my library consists of about three hundred audio titles and three thousand print ones, and no… I have NOT read them all.

One thing is certain, reading, whether it’s in tactile form or in audio format, definitely continues to feed my imagination, creativity, and probably most importantly, my intentionally evolving point of view. I hope the journey never wanes. I’m blessed to have had such passionate teachers, friends, and family who guided me into the world of other people’s expression.

And now we come the the point of why I wanted to write this post on a blog that is focused on self-help and recovery for beginners. If you’re feeling empty, lost, or overwhelmed, read, please trust me. Contrary to what one may think, (most) books don’t really take the reader anywhere but inward, to the spirit. They unmask and reveal our inner selves, and that’s the best discovery of all.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

 

 

 

153. TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN RECOVERY

When I turned 27 years old, I stood at the edge of a cliff. It would be three more years before I sobered up, and the time between the worst of my addiction and my surprising salvation was to be hell on Earth. I started breaking down with tremendous strides, both physically and mentally. My pace back then was a handle of vodka a day. I did, however, manage to keep working, though looking back, I don’t know how. My boss (who I’m still friends with today, go figure) was either oddly sympathetic or just didn’t care. In any case what was required of me, I accomplished for the most part, so repercussions were rare. Since I was a one-man crew and no one else relied on me showing up, I would often blow off my duties in favor of staying home and getting hammered. Putting off my workload was rather easy since it required no sacrifice (other than broken expectations) on the part of the customer, so this “logic” justified my ever-increasing incompetence.

During this period I was sent north to scrub and wax a TJ Maxx in Fort Collins, one of many such similar trips. I usually felt like garbage, but this night was especially tough. After being left alone to my duties I decided to call a hotline looking for help, mental help, and all they did was repeatedly ask me if I was going to hurt myself. I said no several times, but they were persistent with the question. They ultimately asked me if there was anything in the store I could hurt myself with, which startled me. I remember saying I suppose I could take a running start with my head down at a brick wall. When I told them that, they called the police department. Luckily the front doors were locked with just a turn bolt inside (they normally were keyed on both sides) and after talking for a couple of minutes through the glass, I reluctantly let them in. They didn’t officially arrest me, but they did shuttle me to the station after contacting the store manager.

I had acting normal down to a science even when I was falling over inside, and they were surprised to meet with someone who was outwardly, quite calm and stable. I passed a breathalyzer so there was nothing they could charge me with. We talked about my issues but little else came of the incident. They were kind, and after a few hours they brought me back to my truck and I drove home. Looking back these days, I understand why the cops were called. The person on the other end of the phone could not act unless I was a danger to myself, so they played the script they had. I disagreed with their motives, but to them they were warranted.

The horrors of the days to come couldn’t have been described by Dante’. My trips to the bathroom were always a bloody mess, literally. The first time I turned the toilet red I almost passed out from the sheer sight of it. The second time, I didn’t care. My urine was consistently pink, and I could spit blood. Nose bleeds were common too. My bouts of dipteral tremens were exceedingly common, and blackouts, once something I had sidestepped, became the norm. How I managed to live through those times could only be described as astonishing. How I got out was miraculous.

Today I celebrate my 27th year in recovery. Twenty-seven years ago I was a liability to anyone who knew me, and truthfully, to most people I met casually as well. On the 28th of July in 1995 I took my last drink and have been actively in front of my demons since. I have so many things to be grateful for these days and constant practice of this attitude feeds both continued resolve and a life of abundance. There’s nothing on earth I would trade my journey for.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

149. GODSHOTS PODCAST WITH LYDIA CORNELL #3 –

 Lydia Cornell 

Here is the third podcast with Miss Cornell. Although it is in video format it does not need to be watched, nothing visually presented is necessary to the content, though I must admit, Lydia is a lot more pleasant to look at then I am…

This is the third one  I’ve done with her. The major topic of our discussion is focused on her passion for what she has labeled as “Godshots” ™ which are coincidences that are highly spiritual in nature.  

Please take a little time to find out more about Lydia. She’s an enthusiastic woman who really does want the best for everyone.  

Links to referenced pages below are in bold, just point and click.  

For those who might recognize the name, Lydia Cornell is a star of the highly successful sitcom from the eighties, “Too close for Comfort”.  Her name under the picture is also a link to her IMDB page. In addition to an acting career, she also runs two blogs, PoliticallyHot and GodShots. Her resume’ includes a wide range of projects, talents, and passions from writing to mentoring and even stand-up comedy. Please visit her links to learn more.

We originally connected on another web site known as Quora. We have common ground in recovery, and it’s here we began communicating our enthusiasm for helping others.   

Listen to previous podcasts by Lydia here.

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Comments are welcome, I will answer in kind. 

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


145. THE BRAVEST WORDS

I’ve always felt the idea of people suggesting to “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” when all hope has drained away is not only a waste of time, it’s the height of indifference. Those who jump to criticize may think they see a solution, but there’s no way to guarantee the person being judged will embrace their opinions. Some dig holes so deep that eventually all they see is darkness and all they hear is silence. When hope vanishes, so does our desire to take action. If you’ve ever been in a place so depressing it reaches all the way to your soul, you’ll know what I mean. On occasion I’ve been asked “How do you know when you hit bottom?” In my experience it comes down to having only two choices left, we’re either willing give up completely, or we start screaming for assistance. I prefer to endorse the latter.

I don’t want to give the impression we don’t (usually) own the skills needed to find our way out of unwanted situations, of course we do. In most cases our setbacks are balanced by a combination of exercising the proper emotions and taking necessary actions. Unfortunately, many eventually find themselves slaves to a broken mindset, and that mindset is “Whatever the cost, I want instant gratification.” This manifests in a variety of ways. Drugs and alcohol are probably the most common, but there are others. Gambling, food, shopping, sex, and many others are also themes of self-abuse. The common denominator is they cater to physical cravings rather than mental or spiritual ones. All are designed to change how we feel from the outside in.

When we are deeply lost in nightmarish places, our only way out alive requires bravery. This means we must sidestep our OWN ego, embrace humility, and with loud sincerity, scream for help. Help is therefore the one of the bravest words. While there are certainly legions of people who look for any reason to stomp on us, and are more than happy to see us fail so they can feel “they’re winning the race”, there are actually MORE willing to reach out and help. Not only that, those who offer assistance normally ask for nothing in return, other than to perhaps “pay it forward”. If you believe the opposite, you’ve embraced one of the biggest lies in life.

This is an important step to growth, the first one, but it is NOT the path itself. The journey from desperation to gratitude will require an even more courageous act, and here is where many stumble. The highest act of bravery is embracing help; acceptance is therefore the bravest word. This is where we face a point of no return, and many times the familiarity of pain is more comforting than an unknown future, no matter how promising it looks. When we accept what we ask for, when we are willing to pay any price for salvation, we pass the ultimate test. Unfortunately, we cannot ask for help with conditions attached, it doesn’t work that way. This is why we often hesitate. It means admitting we are broken and unable to stand on our own. We must totally rely on the direction and experience of others if we are to survive. Faith in the hand that reaches out is an act of humility. Trust is the word that embraces the most courage because assistance is ALWAYS under the discretion of those who offer it. We aren’t allowed to make the rules, and failure to accept this can be a massive roadblock to redemption.

How do we determine if a so-called lifeline is a deception, a trick designed to take advantage of our situation? Is there a way to know if the hand willing to pull us from the abyss is the right one? This is easier than it sounds. Ask yourself, “Does this person have in their life what I need in mine? Do they practice what is necessary for nurturing the spirit rather than the exploiting the body? In other words, look inside rather than outside for the characteristics you seek. Evaluation of a potential savior is not that difficult, nor does it take all that much time.

There are some bullet points, that, in my opinion will help refine an assessment of those promising salvation.

  • If your first reaction is anger or insult, this is a good sign. Why? Because those who makes you instantly happy are catering (subconsciously) to your old beliefs and patterns, and since this is what’s causing pain and suffering to begin with, you’ll just have to make up your mind this response is both healthy and normal.
  • Do they want to clone themselves or or do they simply want help you become the best version of yourself you can be? Most criticize intending to inflate their own ego, they seek to justify their behavior by showcasing how you “aren’t like them”. Those who point out your cracks and flaws without looking for applause are in the correct mindset. This one can difficult to assess, take your time here.
  • Everyone has flaws, everyone. This is one of the most important pieces of advice I’ve ever been told, it’s difficult to practice, but 100% on target. “Do NOT look for examples of the teachings in the teachers, just look for examples of the teachings.” Why? Because when we judge the source before evaluating the information, we lose both instructor and lesson.

If you don’t think I know what I’m talking about, you’re wrong. I’ve been to the edge of oblivion, and I know how it feels. I also know how to get back, and trust me, without a map, we’re forever lost. It really does seem all of mankind’s pain comes from the unwillingness to pull over and ask for directions.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

 

 

 

 

144. PATIENCE

I’m NOT accident prone, but since I am in construction, I’ve had my share of mishaps. I wear my personal protective equipment diligently, but no matter the caution I take, things do occasionally happen. Cuts, bumps, scrapes, punctures, twisted ankles and knees, smashed fingers, minor burns, and so are on the usual menu of occasional injuries. There have been a few fairly bad ones over the years, one involved tripping and falling plus a couple of major lacerations on separate occasions. I will say it’s been a long time since I had an incident that needs to be reported, and I intend to keep my track record clean. ALL of these events, however, have one thing in common. At the time of occurrence, I had become frustrated or lost my temper, mostly because I wanted to speed things up.

In my history lack of patience has always led to unwanted outcomes. One might think my experience with this personal truth would keep me from repeating the equation. Sadly, my resolve is not as disciplined as it should be. I do indeed become agitated from time to time, but my emotional state is nowhere near anything that could be labeled as theatrical, though I’m sure some of my colleagues who have witnessed such outbursts were, nonetheless, highly entertained. Fortunately my (negative) behavior has waned as I’ve aged, and I’m pleased to say it’s been some time since I’ve pulled the trigger.

My occasional lack of impatience has clearly been a major catalyst leading to an overabundance of disappointing results. Since I’m aware this is true, it then stands to reason exercising the opposite behavior should reap highly beneficial rewards, and it has. Calm dedication has been the most productive energy I’ve ever expressed. Everything which has come to me and made my world a better place always has had its roots in consistency.

On what would seem like the other hand, one of my root beliefs is to let go of what I’m driving myself into the ground trying to manifest. This initially comes across as a dichotomy to my resolve, it isn’t. Letting go is NOT giving up. Giving up is being in your boat lost on the ocean and deciding to poke a hole in the bottom, then sabotaging the radio, and finally tossing all provisions overboard. Giving up is suicide, so please don’t do this. Letting go is being in your boat, admitting you’re lost on the ocean, finding an unknown port, and deciding to hire a person you’ve never met to take you somewhere you’ve never been. This requires a ton of faith. It’s still YOUR boat, make no mistake, you’ve just… let go. What I’m saying here is, letting go IS a form of patience; maybe the highest form, because it requires the total absence of ego or self.

In A.A. there are two dominant sayings, “Let go, let God” and “One day at a time”. If you’re not a “God” person, an agnostic, then “Let go” all by itself will suffice. In any case, these short philosophies are designed to promote consistent action tempered with patience. When we ask for help and react with tolerance and gratitude, the world will eventually roll at our feet.

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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

142. IF AND WHEN

I’m a believer in the philosophy of the power behind “self-fulfilling prophecies”. In short, if you don’t already know, a self-fulfilling prophecy is nothing more than thinking or voicing what you feel you can or cannot, accomplish. The brain is funny. We have the gift, to direct (or at least curb) a good portion of its behavior. It can be magnified or subdued, depending on the motive. The question is, what fuels motive? Thoughts, both conscious and subconscious, provide the energy to allow it to perform both covert and intended actions. We drive, walk, listen, work, play, and so on with little focus on what’s taking place in our head. On the other hand, programs, or subconscious thought, also do a great deal of work. Functions like breathing, pumping blood, digesting food, and warding off sickness are truly the brain’s biggest duties, but even these things, if focused on, can be altered by awareness. There are people who can control their heart rate through meditation AND there are a great many who can mess up natural rhythms just by believing things will go haywire. Don’t believe me? I’ll bet you can make an itch worse if you think about it rather than simply scratch, especially if it’s private and you’re in a public place.

Belief systems are among the most powerful thoughts. This is because ego is attached and usually won’t allow any sort of alteration. Personal beliefs, the ones we keep silent and to ourselves have gigantic leverage, but STATED beliefs, ones that are vocalized and have an audience carry the most punch. Why? It’s simple, the brain does not want to be a liar. It wants to be right all the time, and it will do anything to keep that status. I hear damaging statements all the time, and it breaks my heart because I know just how influential they are. Let’s see if some of these examples sound familiar.

  • I’m so unlucky
  • I’ll never find a man or woman
  • I’ll never sober up
  • I can’t lose weight
  • I’ll never have enough money
  • I’ll never be able to pay off my bills
  • No one loves me
  • No one respects me
  • I hate getting up in the morning
  • I’m always late
  • I never seem to finish anything
  • I never have any energy

Now, I just wrote those out at the speed of sound, not just because I hear them all the time, (I do) but because I used to say the same garbage myself with regular consistency. When any of these pointless statements came true, my reward was saying “see, I was right, I told you so.” If my stated belief is “I can’t lose weight” then I WILL DO what it takes to maintain that position, even if I’m totally unaware of how I’m repositioning my own chessboard. In the end, through subconsciously setting myself up for selling myself as a victim, I can eventually convince myself I won the game.

Reverse the list above and one will come up with a much more effective and positive set of declarations. Some of the wording is changed to a more focused vision of what is sought.

  • I’m desirable
  • I don’t need drugs of any kind
  • I’m thin
  • I’m wealthy
  • I pay my debts
  • I’m loved
  • I’m appreciated 
  • I’m a morning person
  • I’m punctual
  • I’m reliable
  • I’m enthusiastic

Notice my wording is not in future tense as in “I’ll get…” or “I’ll become…”. When we use this type of language, we automatically push expectation to the future, and as a result, it will never happen. 

The biggest biggest change in the way I now think and especially talk, was to eliminate the word “if”. I have long since replaced it with “when”. Why would anyone want to say, “If the time is right, I’ll ask for a raise” or “If I ever find the right woman, I’ll settle down”. Nonsense. “Ifs” never happen, that’s the way they’re wired. “Whens”, on the other hand, ALWAYS happen.

So, the word best describing this whole process is “affirmation”. Affirmations are NOT new-age hocus-pocus, they are they single most powerful tool of manifestation we have at our disposal. Let’s face it, we all know people who swing the wrecking ball at their own crane and then wonder why everything stops working. It’s REALLY easy to see negative affirmations in action with other people; just know it works the same way for you as well.

One last observation. I’m a fan of Tony Robbins, and he has life dialed in pretty dang good. One of his exercises is to have the listener write down what they want no matter how silly or outrageous it seems at the moment. As instructed, I did, and at the top of my list I wrote “Win Powerball”.

Guess what happened?

I DID win on the very next drawing, but it was only 100.00. Yup, I won, and it taught me to be WAY more specific with my affirmations. On my next list I’m going to write “Win the top prize in Powerball.”

That ought to do it.

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With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood