William S. Burroughs is far from being a role model for those in recovery, at least as far as lifestyle is concerned, but his writing is none the less powerful. I first read the following well over a decade ago and it has stayed with me, but until recently I did not fully realize its importance:
"Everyday we face death, and for that time we are immortal."
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Of Mountains and Molehills
A couple of weeks ago I watched "American Hardcore", a great documentary about the origins, growth, and subsequent demise of the true hardcore punk rock movement in America. Punk rock has always had a bad reputation because of the dolts out there that were in it for the sake of being crass, but the most influential bands had legitimate anger and frustration and found a way to express these feelings in a way that, while obviously not appealing to all ears, was original, daring, honest and heart-felt. It is also refreshing to remember that many of these bands were of the straight-edge philosophy. No drugs or alcohol. A complete contradiction to the hippies and coke-heads of the sixties and seventies.
In the course of the film, during an interview with Bad Brains' H.R., a book was mentioned that changed the way he and his band-mates viewed and approached life (Bad Brains, an African-American band from D.C. have a supreme reputation for their musicianship and energy, and are still influential 30-years on.) First published in 1937, Napoleon Hill's "Think and Grow Rich" is a study in the theory that our mind-set is the most powerful element of our success, and failure as well, not only in financial matters but life in general. Hill was commissioned by Andrew Carnegie to interview and study 500 of the most influential captains of industry. Hill found an identical strategy at the core of each story...how to overcome failure. No matter the background of each subject, Hill himself an orphan, there lived the idea that failure is not the end of the line.
Nothing is impossible. Hill even recommends the reader purchase a dictionary and carefully clip from it the definition of "impossible".
In the early pages of this outstanding book (which I purchased, used no less, the day after watching said film) Hill spends a great amount of energy building the readers' self-esteem. One certain phrase has had an incredible impact on my attitude towards recovery and everything else I face in life: "Every failure carries the seed of an equivalent success." He repeatedly assures the reader that failure attempts to slip us up just before success is achieved and it is up to the individual to accept failure as the final result. Thomas Edison is a great example of one who faced failure a multitude of times, as every great inventor does, before he achieved a crowning success. If Edison let failure diminish his desire to build the electric light after the first few failures who knows who would have picked up where he left off? Would we be able to create and read these blogs today? His persistence in the face of adversity directly impacted the world in innumerable ways. There is also the life of Henry Ford, who did not have a high school degree, and his obvious influence on the auto industry. One other story, while sadly comical, makes one think "yeah, let's just stick with this a while longer". During the Colorado gold rush, a gentleman by the name of Darby had staked a claim after discovering what he eventually came to think was a small deposit. After securing the machinery necessary to mine the gold, he set to work with great passion. After a few cars worth of ore, the vein dried up. He gave up his goal, sold the machinery to a local junk man and barely broke even. Now, the lowly junk man with Darby's machinery considered the situation with a different point of view, hired a mining engineer and set out to test his theory. Just three feet from where Darby had stopped his drilling, the man found an incredible deposit worth millions.
I look back at certain points in my life where I could have gone the extra three feet. I think we all have situations in our past where we let a simple set-back become a stunning failure, and drew the line right there.
This is where the power of this book has helped me deal with a major set-back this week. Readers of this blog will hopefully remember my admission to the event in January that prompted me to begin writing in the first place. On Tuesday afternoon I had my final court date for the DWI charge stemming from that incident. After two previous appearances, and working with the Public Defender to procure a sentence that we all felt was appropriate, I thought I was prepared for the judge. The Honorable So-and-so was actually quite amicable with the few cases before my own, but that attitude seemed to change when I stepped before him. I was dealt a heavier sentence than everyone involved had expected. Even though he did tear out a few pages out of the book before throwing it directly at me, it certainly felt hard-bound and weighed with lead. My demeanor took on one of the victim, although that was totally false.
The sentence took me to dark places, and for the first time since beginning recovery I must admit I wanted a drink. That urge didn't make the situation any easier, yet I knew even the smallest drop would destroy everything I have been working for. I kept repeating the phrase form my new favorite book: "Every failure carries the seed of an equivalent success." Upon returning home I spoke with my sister then went for a great bike ride with a newly-sober friend. After getting out the angst through miles of pedaling, the day's events made more sense. Despite all my efforts to come clean and lead an honest life, the sentence had nothing to do with my actions in this current period. I was being punished for something I did while I functioned under the burden of booze. These sober days have been so wonderful I tend to forget that life was different not too long ago.
This is my light bulb that won't stop blowing up, my V-8 engine that can't be built in a single cast, my deposit of ore that runs dry.
If it were not for sobriety, I would not be dealing with three years of probation and it's accompanying factors with what I feel is a certain amount of grace. If it were not for sobriety, I would not be sitting here in my newly arranged apartment enjoying the beautiful sunny day right outside my window, typing this out for you now. If it were not for sobriety, I would not have found in this failure a seed for an equivalent success.
We never know if we're three feet or three miles from our goal, but as long as we keep going we're certainly further from where we started.
© 2009 Uncover/Recover
In the course of the film, during an interview with Bad Brains' H.R., a book was mentioned that changed the way he and his band-mates viewed and approached life (Bad Brains, an African-American band from D.C. have a supreme reputation for their musicianship and energy, and are still influential 30-years on.) First published in 1937, Napoleon Hill's "Think and Grow Rich" is a study in the theory that our mind-set is the most powerful element of our success, and failure as well, not only in financial matters but life in general. Hill was commissioned by Andrew Carnegie to interview and study 500 of the most influential captains of industry. Hill found an identical strategy at the core of each story...how to overcome failure. No matter the background of each subject, Hill himself an orphan, there lived the idea that failure is not the end of the line.
Nothing is impossible. Hill even recommends the reader purchase a dictionary and carefully clip from it the definition of "impossible".
In the early pages of this outstanding book (which I purchased, used no less, the day after watching said film) Hill spends a great amount of energy building the readers' self-esteem. One certain phrase has had an incredible impact on my attitude towards recovery and everything else I face in life: "Every failure carries the seed of an equivalent success." He repeatedly assures the reader that failure attempts to slip us up just before success is achieved and it is up to the individual to accept failure as the final result. Thomas Edison is a great example of one who faced failure a multitude of times, as every great inventor does, before he achieved a crowning success. If Edison let failure diminish his desire to build the electric light after the first few failures who knows who would have picked up where he left off? Would we be able to create and read these blogs today? His persistence in the face of adversity directly impacted the world in innumerable ways. There is also the life of Henry Ford, who did not have a high school degree, and his obvious influence on the auto industry. One other story, while sadly comical, makes one think "yeah, let's just stick with this a while longer". During the Colorado gold rush, a gentleman by the name of Darby had staked a claim after discovering what he eventually came to think was a small deposit. After securing the machinery necessary to mine the gold, he set to work with great passion. After a few cars worth of ore, the vein dried up. He gave up his goal, sold the machinery to a local junk man and barely broke even. Now, the lowly junk man with Darby's machinery considered the situation with a different point of view, hired a mining engineer and set out to test his theory. Just three feet from where Darby had stopped his drilling, the man found an incredible deposit worth millions.
I look back at certain points in my life where I could have gone the extra three feet. I think we all have situations in our past where we let a simple set-back become a stunning failure, and drew the line right there.
This is where the power of this book has helped me deal with a major set-back this week. Readers of this blog will hopefully remember my admission to the event in January that prompted me to begin writing in the first place. On Tuesday afternoon I had my final court date for the DWI charge stemming from that incident. After two previous appearances, and working with the Public Defender to procure a sentence that we all felt was appropriate, I thought I was prepared for the judge. The Honorable So-and-so was actually quite amicable with the few cases before my own, but that attitude seemed to change when I stepped before him. I was dealt a heavier sentence than everyone involved had expected. Even though he did tear out a few pages out of the book before throwing it directly at me, it certainly felt hard-bound and weighed with lead. My demeanor took on one of the victim, although that was totally false.
The sentence took me to dark places, and for the first time since beginning recovery I must admit I wanted a drink. That urge didn't make the situation any easier, yet I knew even the smallest drop would destroy everything I have been working for. I kept repeating the phrase form my new favorite book: "Every failure carries the seed of an equivalent success." Upon returning home I spoke with my sister then went for a great bike ride with a newly-sober friend. After getting out the angst through miles of pedaling, the day's events made more sense. Despite all my efforts to come clean and lead an honest life, the sentence had nothing to do with my actions in this current period. I was being punished for something I did while I functioned under the burden of booze. These sober days have been so wonderful I tend to forget that life was different not too long ago.
This is my light bulb that won't stop blowing up, my V-8 engine that can't be built in a single cast, my deposit of ore that runs dry.
If it were not for sobriety, I would not be dealing with three years of probation and it's accompanying factors with what I feel is a certain amount of grace. If it were not for sobriety, I would not be sitting here in my newly arranged apartment enjoying the beautiful sunny day right outside my window, typing this out for you now. If it were not for sobriety, I would not have found in this failure a seed for an equivalent success.
We never know if we're three feet or three miles from our goal, but as long as we keep going we're certainly further from where we started.
© 2009 Uncover/Recover
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Mustard with Soup?
For the second consecutive day the temperature broke well into the 90's, and we know how people get when the heat becomes a little unbearable (especially when said people are driving an inferior, improperly-cared-for car with very likely no A/C). This might help to explain a potentially insulting, but in the end very humorous, interaction with a group of young girls (I won't call them ladies or women) in a Dodge Neon on my bike ride home down 31st Street from treatment this afternoon. I'm a cautious and courteous biker (you have to be when those who "share" the road are 10 times your mass) so I know I couldn't have done anything to upset them, but here comes this Neon, decaying paint job and all, along side me and my Schwinn Varsity to yell something that sounded to be "bat soup, nigga!" In addition to the incomprehensible slang (I actually did get that last word) there was the action of spitting in my direction, but no actual saliva came out, so they failed on both fronts. If you're trying to insult someone, it really only works if the insultee can understand you, and if your mouth can produce enough saliva to back that up.
Not feeling any sting in the slightest, my mind raced to decode the words and why on Earth I was the target of such a slur. I had never been called a "nigga" before and I have been losing sleep lately wondering why, so I can put that under my belt and get on with my life. Perhaps it was my outfit. I can possibly see how wearing a red-and-white short sleeve shirt with blue jeans, green socks and green Cole Haan shoes might confuse some people, but it really wasn't that offensive. And what is this "bat soup?"
Well, 31st Street at 3:15 on a weekday can get pretty backed up, what with all the controlled intersections. I noticed I was gaining good ground on the insult-mobile without even trying, so I decided to give this another go. A couple blocks past my usual turn at Bryant Avenue I caught up and slowed down next to their car at a stop sign. Again..."bat soup, nigga!" and spit with no spit. I kindly asked what the problem was, but apparently reason scares the "bat soup" out of some people, and they sped off.
I took a left down Girard and it came to me what this all meant. These girls were very upset that their bat soup left a lot to be desired (hence the spitting without spit) and they were trying to ask for some Grey Poupon! I could have told them that soups made with nocturnal animals have nothing on those that are based on animals that feed during the day, and that despite it's worldwide reputation for impeccable quality, Grey Poupon isn't good in soup of any kind.
© 2009 Uncover/Recover
Not feeling any sting in the slightest, my mind raced to decode the words and why on Earth I was the target of such a slur. I had never been called a "nigga" before and I have been losing sleep lately wondering why, so I can put that under my belt and get on with my life. Perhaps it was my outfit. I can possibly see how wearing a red-and-white short sleeve shirt with blue jeans, green socks and green Cole Haan shoes might confuse some people, but it really wasn't that offensive. And what is this "bat soup?"
Well, 31st Street at 3:15 on a weekday can get pretty backed up, what with all the controlled intersections. I noticed I was gaining good ground on the insult-mobile without even trying, so I decided to give this another go. A couple blocks past my usual turn at Bryant Avenue I caught up and slowed down next to their car at a stop sign. Again..."bat soup, nigga!" and spit with no spit. I kindly asked what the problem was, but apparently reason scares the "bat soup" out of some people, and they sped off.
I took a left down Girard and it came to me what this all meant. These girls were very upset that their bat soup left a lot to be desired (hence the spitting without spit) and they were trying to ask for some Grey Poupon! I could have told them that soups made with nocturnal animals have nothing on those that are based on animals that feed during the day, and that despite it's worldwide reputation for impeccable quality, Grey Poupon isn't good in soup of any kind.
© 2009 Uncover/Recover
Thursday, May 14, 2009
A Little G.I. Gurdjieff...
“There do exist enquiring minds, which long for the truth of the heart, seek it, strive to solve the problems set by life, try to penetrate to the essence of things and phenomena and to penetrate into themselves. If a man reasons and thinks soundly, no matter which path he follows in solving these problems, he must inevitably arrive back at himself, and begin with the solution of the problem of what he is himself and what his place is in the world around him.”
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