Optimizing Health

Since I entered recovery 24 years ago I've done my best to live a healthy life.

That means yoga, aerobics, or weights 45 minutes or more six days a week. No meat. No junk food. No sodas. Few sweets of any kind. No smoking. Mindfulness meditation.

And, it works for me. As I approach 76 I feel blessed to be able to go to the office six days a week and enjoy the quality of life that I do.

This came to mind today when I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in some time - someone I've know since my early days in recovery.

When we first met, he found my eating habits kind of strange. In fact my whole health regimen was a source of amusement.

But because he's facing health issues, he told me that today he eats better and exercises. As a result he's lost weight and is doing better.

I was happy to see him regaining his health and enjoying more energy.

I believe we got sober because we wanted a better life. And, in my opinion, living a better life means means enjoying optimal health.

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Entitled Children

Parents usually don't read this blog until after their children get to TLC.

But if your children aren't addicts, and you don't want them to become one, read on.

As you're raising your children don't give them everything. Don't spoil them, thinking that you're being a good parent.

Instead, let them be responsible. If they want stuff, make them do something to get it.

Have them behave a certain way to earn what they want. For example, if they want a car, let them work part time. Maybe do chores. Keep a certain grade average. Something so they don't get the idea that they're entitled to whatever they want.

If they want an education, let them be responsible for part of the costs.

And I say this to make a point. Most of the addicts we treat have a sense of entitlement. Someone gave them everything.

They haven't been responsible. They haven't paid bills. They haven't worked.

They've just put their hand out and mommy or daddy puts something in it.

And then when they figure that out that the child is an addict they try to buy their way out of that too. They spend thousands on treatment. And often that doesn't work.

If you, as a parent, don't want to go down this road, teach your children responsibility. They may think you're a jerk, or unloving.

But later on they'll thank you for helping them to become self-sufficient.

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Perfect Recovery?

A friend in recovery struggles. She hasn't relapsed. But she hasn't found the ongoing serenity the 12-steps offer us.

She seems to want a perfect recovery. But it's rarely that way. She wants to do everything right - but in her mind she's not there.

She vents her frustration on her boyfriend over minor things. Even though he's trying his best. Fortunately, he recognizes that her struggles aren't with him. But within her.

Those I know in successful recovery live in reality. We don't always enjoy peace and serenity. We're not always on an emotional high.

Dealing with our addict nature requires us to use the tools of the program.

We learn to love ourselves. To forgive ourselves. We learn that perfection is an illusion that we never achieve. And if we do, so what? Who cares?

But the biggest thing we learn is that acceptance trumps everything. When we're in acceptance life works out just fine.

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Here and Now

"A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery while on a detour."  Unknown

I like this saying because it's about living in the moment. Being here and now.

Too often we speed through our busy lives like rats on a treadmill. We're moving fast and going somewhere else - anywhere but the present moment.

And we just know that things'll be better when we get there. But when we get there we're already focusing on the horizon. To that next great place up the road or around the corner.

And by living this way we pass through life paying little attention to the beauty of the this moment. We miss the precious time that God gave us. We essentially waste our lives.

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Asking for Help

The universe must have shifted. Because people were asking for help all day.

Parents. Twenty-somethings. Former clients. The emails and calls came from everywhere.

The ones from family members were coherent. Well-reasoned, balanced. Anyone could understand them.

The ones from those under the influence not so much. It was easy to tell the messages from addicts themselves. Most were hard to understand. Some sent different versions of the same message, trying to get it right.

Whatever the content, I answer whatever comes in. Either personally, or by forwarding it to a staff member. No matter who asks for help - or when - as soon as it hits my email or phone I move on it.

One reason I do that because we help addicts and alcoholics rebuild their lives. That's our mission.

The other reason is because when I finally asked for help someone was there. They reached out and lifted me. They gave directions. They shared their wisdom and resources until I could make it on my own.

The staff and I can do no less for those who need us.

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Tough Love

I get an email this weekend from a mother who asks about her son.

Seems he's over 50 years old. Currently living with her. Drinking, doing drugs, and raising hell. Not helping her financially.

She wonders what to do. Should she use tough love and tell him to leave?

Those who read this blog know what I wrote back. Yes, throw his ass out. At least she might have peace in her life. Even if he doesn't want to change.

The advice I gave her is the same I give to anyone. If you're supporting someone who doesn't want to change - send them on their way.

And the reason I'm so strong on this issue is that it worked for me. And it's worked for many of those who've been through our program.

When my family told me they'd no longer help me I couldn't believe it. No money. No sofa. No food. No loaning me a car.

At first I thought they were incredibly cruel. Was I even related to these people? Didn't they know I had a substance abuse problem? But they stayed with their decision.

And it was the best thing that ever happened. Because suddenly I had to look at myself - the source of the problem.

Once I started looking at myself as the author of my misery, life changed. And today I'm grateful to them for sending me on my way.

Because that's when my life changed and I found help.

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Bizarre Happens

Sometimes we're cruising through life minding our own business. And then the bizarre happens.

It happened while my wife and I were visiting San Diego this weekend. As we sometimes do, we decided to go down to Tijuana to fill prescriptions. Because over there they're 60-70% cheaper. So we usually pick up a six month supply.

Rather than take our car or the trolley, we decide to take a taxi from the hotel to the border. However, the driver missed the last exit and ended up driving us into Mexico - something he hadn't planned on. Nor had we.

Once there, we told him he might as well take us to the pharmacy. And when we finished he could take us back across the border and to the hotel.

But when we returned to the border things got strange. It seems the driver didn't have his passport. And that's a requirement to get back into the U.S.

On top of that he's from Somalia. His name is Mohammed. And he speaks broken English. Now you get the picture.

Right away a customs agent directed him to a large inspection shed full of cars. In the shed were a   few dozen other agents - some with dogs. Every once in a while they'd lead someone away in handcuffs. It didn't look good.

Because there are thousands of Africans named Mohammed with the same last name as the driver they weren't sure who he was. And we weren't going anywhere til they found out.

When we told the agents we were only passengers and didn't know this guy, they didn't seem to care. They were polite. But they acted like we might be his friends. We weren't allowed to leave the cab except to use the restroom.

Four hours late later - after running security checks on the driver, they searched the car. Then they questioned him. Then they questioned my wife. I felt rejected because they didn't bother with me. After that they let us go.

When we got back to the hotel the driver told us we didn't owe him for the trip. We paid him anyway. I figured he needed all the help he could get.

The day was a lesson in tolerance and acceptance.

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