Two nights ago it happened. My wife and I had just finished dinner and I was watching TV when I was consumed with this overall feeling of dread. Doom and gloom from out of nowhere. I could not put my finger on the reason why, but I was overcome with this feeling of hopelessness and that something in the universe was not right. There was a disturbance in the force or as Obi-Wan put it “I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened.” OK, that’s a little dramatic, but sometimes it can certainly feel that way when you’re normally brimming with gratitude.

So I laid back on the couch and just felt it. I considered grabbing a pen and paper and writing a gratitude list, knowing the action would help and then I could share how I “walk the walk.” But I didn’t, instead I used the power of now and then went through a mental list of all that I was grateful for such as my wife, granddaughter, parents, job, legs, food, home, etc. and that all my basic needs were met.

I know I talk about gratitude a lot, but it is important. Get used to it.

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”
-Melody Beattie

Chris Guillebeau of The Art of Nonconformity, listed three parts of gratitude in his Zen Habits guest post, “Three Truths to Help You Create a Life of Gratitude”

A life of gratitude is composed of three parts that combine to make a whole.

1. A sense of purpose in our lives

2. An appreciation for the lives of those around us

3. A willingness to take action to show the gratitude we feel

Finding A Sense of Purpose
Finding a sense of purpose in one’s life is no small task. For most of my life, I thought “the purpose” was to find happiness. This thinking simply brought on years of self-will and wrestling with most forces in life. Through the gift of desperation, I realized a life run on self-will alone puts me in conflict with the universe and everyone in it. Think about it, if we’re all trying to run our lives on self-will, getting the most out of life for ourselves, who’s looking out for each other?

It’s like when my wife and I go to Home Depot on the weekends. It’s really quite funny. We get all dressed up and looking nice just in case someone sees us. I mean really! Isn’t everyone else just going around doing the same thing—wondering how everyone sees them? (OK, maybe not…) The good thing is we’re able to laugh at ourselves about it.

Finding a sense of purpose can be as easy as doing what makes you happy. I found that living a life based on spiritual principles and helping others as much as I can makes me happy. That life is not a search for happiness but a by-product of right living. I used to think I had to change the world, you know, really make a difference! Today I look for my life purpose each and every day. My morning prayer is, “God, show me what you will have me do today and give me the strength and willingness to carry it out.” When I approach each day with this attitude, anything is possible!

Appreciate Those Around You
Appreciation is an action, look at those around you in everyday life and see what you can do to make their lives better. Here’s something to try. The next time you feel frustrated, angry, or upset because you feel someone just doesn’t understand, try being understanding rather than understood.

Bringing joy to those around you is a great way to show your appreciation for them. One of my favorite parts of the movie The Bucket List is when Carter poses the two questions which are asked of Egyptians entering heaven: “Have you found joy in your life?” and “Has your life brought joy to others?” Bring joy to others and you’ll find joy yourself.

Gratitude is an Action
I love it, just love it—anything to do with action! I use to think about getting flowers or a gift for someone, but never really took any action. I was too busy achieving happiness. People’s happiness comes from my actions, not my intentions. I refer to those days as my ten dollar days. I would never put more than ten dollars worth of gas in my car at a time. I had the money, just no patience—always in a hurry to someplace to do something for myself. It is simple—doing things for others shows them you appreciate them.

There are so many ways you can take action to show gratitude, such as how you treat yourself and your possessions. Are you grateful for your life and your body? Trying exercising. Are you grateful for your car? Try washing it. Are you grateful for your clothes? …OK, I didn’t really think “try washing them” would be that impactful so how about this… If you’re grateful for having more than enough clothes, give some of them away to a local shelter.

I try to hold fast to the truth that a full and thankful heart cannot entertain great conceits. When brimming with gratitude, one’s heartbeat must surely result in outgoing love, the finest emotion that we can ever know.”
-Bill Wilson

So as I lay there on the couch and think of all that I am grateful for, the feeling of dread lifts just a little. I got on my knees and said a simple prayer, “God, thank you for your Grace and Confidence” and went up stairs to share my feelings with my wife. (I share everything, it’s good practice for when I’m making unreasonable demands of myself) She kisses me and tells me she loves me—it lifts a little more.

From experience I know that emotions are just emotions, that they change, and that This Too Shall Pass. The next morning I rise and am grateful for another day as a flower is for the sun.

Closing Side Nugget: When writing about a topic I think up a ton of other things to write about. One that immediately comes to mind is the powerful realization that emotions do not last forever. I suppose it may feel that way for some. I remember when I was suffering from alcohol depression, and the constant feeling of doom I carried in my soul. I had no purpose for my life, no gratitude, and felt those feelings would last forever. I can relate to those who may feel such emotions for extended periods of time and how suicide can seem attractive. OK, I realize that is a bold statement, but there was a time in my life when suicide was a very real option. That is when I asked for help and was desperate enough to do whatever it took to get better. If you feel hopelessness and despair, please ask someone for help. It’s out there and there are people who truly do understand what you’re going through. I still get those feelings from time to time, so I have accumulated a set of tools that I pull out and use—like gratitude! And I tell myself, this too shall pass.

photo credit: furbychan

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I can be selfish with my time. After all, I’m busy. Graduate school, work, writing, family, etc. One thing I have found however, that after long periods of being selfish with my time, I get into a funk. I may think I’m being helpful and unselfish, but holding the elevator at work does not count.

The funk may be hard to categorize, which means it’s impossible to put a finger on the cause. Am I restless because I have a ton of homework to do this week? Am I afraid of losing something? Is there something I think I want that I’m not getting?

Regardless of the cause, I have discovered a few ways of relieving the funk. These actions always work—except when they don’t. However, one thing I always know, this too shall pass.

Here are 9 ways to get the funk outta here!

1. Be of service.
Call up a friend and ask them if there’s anything they need. Out of all the people I know, there is always someone who needs something. This can even be a simple telephone call to ask them how they’re doing.

2. Donate your time.
Contact a local non-profit and volunteer your time.

3. Donate your possessions.
Where I live, there are always fliers coming in the mail about local charities in need of clothes. Going through my closet and getting rid of things I haven’t worn in say… 1 year (covering all 4 seasons) is a start. This is something I have on my short-list of things to do soon!

4. Anonymous random acts of kindness.
This one is hard! We all want props for our good deeds don’t we? Try raking the leaves in your neighbors yard while they’re away, or putting a basket of goodies on their doorstep. Maybe not food items since some folks may think that is weird… I remember my mother worrying about razor blades in the apples we received on Halloween.

5. Write a Gratitude list.
Put pen to paper and write a list of all the things you are grateful for. At least 50!

6. Journal.
Start a journal and write down whatever you’re feeling. Don’t worry about grammar or whether or not it makes sense, just write it down! By getting it on paper and out in the open air, it looses power. I’ve heard of people that use a God box. A box they put things into they want to turn over and let go of. A year later they open the box to find all the things seem to have taken care of themselves. Many times, in ways they could not have possibly imagined at the time.

7. Do something productive.
I don’t know about you, but if I’m not being productive, I start to feel uneasy. This even happens sometimes if I’m sick for a few days and miss work. It really starts to affect my self-esteem. So go get something done you’ve been putting off. You’ll feel better!

8. Remind yourself that you are loved.
Do something for yourself, something you know you’ll enjoy and that makes you happy. Maybe the funk is because you don’t feel worthy of happiness. Remind yourself that you are worthy! For me this may be sitting outside and playing my guitar, writing music, or going for a walk while listening to certain music that always lifts my spirits.

9. Action, Action, Action.
There is an old saying, “take the body and the mind will follow.” As in, You can’t think your way into good living, you must live your way into good thinking. Even if you do not feel like doing any of the steps above, do them anyway.

What should be number 10?

Leave comments on ways you get the funk out!

photo credit: nataliej

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The above picture is a note my mother attached to my luggage as a kid before I went away on my first big trip (which happened to be to the USSR). It has special meaning to me and she sent it to me in the mail yesterday.

Three years ago today was a dark day for me yet a turning point in my life. It was the day I left behind my perception of the world and my place in it. After a failed marriage, a job I resented, and a friend who had recently passed away, I was depressed and overwhelmed with life. From a loft apartment in downtown Kansas City I would make my final stand. With money in the bank and a liquor store three blocks away, I was in heaven, and hell. This is how I remember those last few days.

Eight hundred pounds, my body, my soul, weighs eight hundred pounds. For days, I have been laying here on this futon, alone in this loft, too weak to walk or eat much. The booze has stopped working. The empty bottles are a reminder of what is left of my soul, emptiness. Every warm drop of life sucked out of them. I remember hearing that personal hygiene is one of the first things to go as we totally lose control and go insane. For the last few days, I have forced myself to crawl the twenty feet to the bathtub. Not any more, I don’t care. My fingernails are long, I used to hate that.

There is a pipe running through my loft about ten feet from the floor. The paint is chipped and peeling. The smooth outer shell that once hid its cold hard underneath, enabling it to blend in with its surroundings, is falling away. In the corner, a half-built entertainment center, my 32’ Hi-Def TV sits on the floor. Next to it, a pair of Monster Cables, I will use those to hang myself from the pipe. How fitting to kill the monster I have become inside. It’s going to be epic; my story will touch the lives of others and give them the strength I lack. Maybe I should get a video camera and film my own demise… I’ll be famous. Who am I kidding, I’m too weak to even walk two blocks to the liquor store and my car has two flat tires and tags that have been expired for a year and half. I would never make it.

Strewn about the loft is evidence of my last days here. Several dozen empty vodka bottles—more hidden in the empty cabinets—as many empty beer bottles, a pile of unpaid bills, dirty clothes, sunflower seeds, and one of those single sandwich grills where I cook frozen hamburger patties to force-feed myself. A blanket covers the window, making it hard to distinguish night from day. Paranoia insisted I cover the peephole in the door and pillows line the small closet where I spend most daylight hours in case someone tries to enter. On the street below, iron sheets cover holes in the street—unfinished work to be done. Cars passing randomly, “thump-thump,” add to my paranoia. Was someone knocking? From my latest count, there are 530 bricks along the north wall. That can’t be right, it’s a big wall. I loose concentration. I am going crazy.

Growing up my mother would say, “The greatest gift a child can give is that their parents they outlive.” She hasn’t come to see me. My father came last week to see how I was doing. He left with tears in his eyes when I told him everything was going to be OK, his response, “its not OK son.” My parents live about an hour away. For my father to come to the “big city” says a lot. I don’t think he has ever been here before. I wonder how he found me. A cousin of mine came by too, as well as some friends; I sent them all away. But not before thanking them and telling them everything was going to be OK, that this was my decision and I’m OK with it. I was concerned for their conscience, that it be void of any regrets that they didn’t try something. Although my mother hasn’t come, she’s been praying for me. I know her. She knows there’s nothing she can do for me but pray. I did promise her that I would call everyday to let her know I’m OK. The calls stopped but I try to send an email each day. The days have run together so I’m not sure when the last email was sent. The voice mail on my cell phone is full. It hurts too much to listen to the messages.

My sister hasn’t come by anymore either, although I have talked to her on the phone, I think. Or was that an email? She does not feel sorry for me, and I know she is not coming to save me this time. She told me so the last time we had contact. “I don’t feel sorry for you and I won’t come save you, but if you chose ‘life’, call me and I’ll be there.”

I have a niece; she must be almost seven months old now. I wonder what her face looks like. I bet she smells of life, innocence, happiness and freedom. I wish I were innocent. I was not there when she was born. I was isolating in another place away from her world. The only place I have ever really known, and really hate. I hate that this place of isolation has become more comfortable than failing as the person I want to be. I treat loneliness with isolation, I am sick. I wanted to be a good uncle, a great uncle. I always had the best of intentions and always wanted to be there for my family and my ex-wife. She let me go; she knew I was sick.

About a week ago I tied a belt around a vertical pipe that runs from the floor to the ceiling along the West wall. I know people in jail use belts to hang themselves. I look at it again, knowing I’m too weak to stand on anything or reach the pipe overhead to use the Monster Cables. STOP, just stop. My head will not stop playing the images of the man I never was and have always wanted to be. That man is too far now—unreachable. I want to die. The prayers of getting robbed and shot on the way to the liquor store didn’t work. Sleeping under the bridge to attract a would-be killer didn’t work. The prayers of getting cancer so I can die with some dignity didn’t work. Alcohol isn’t working now either, causing my entire body to wretch in convulsion as it touches my lips. My mouth tastes like metal, cold iron.

War Games; my mind is eating itself again. Global Thermal Nuclear War or Checkers, life with or without alcohol, there’s no way to win at this game. I just want it to stop, the regret, the guilt, the loneliness—me. I wish my head would stop spinning with thoughts and images folding in on themselves. Liquor used to stop the brain eating, not anymore. Now what? I have two choices, kill myself, or try recovery again. Killing me would be easy, I hope. Living is hard, I know.

I hear my mother, “the greatest gift a child can give is that their parents they outlive.” Does my phone still work? I tried using it a few days ago to order some food, but I couldn’t dial, my brain refused to stop eating itself long enough to put the numbers in the right sequence. I want to die, I’m so so tired. I’m just tired. My mother… God what I’ve put her through.

Speed dial, my sister is number 1 on speed dial; she’s a few miles away. I hit the number 1 on my cell phone, she answers, and I say “I’m at that point. I can’t do it anymore. Come get me.”

I chose life.

Eight hundred pounds. My sister helps me carry my eight hundred pound soul out of the loft. She sits next to me all night as I lay in her stepson’s bed. I tell her I don’t love myself. She tells me she does. That she can love me enough until I can love myself. She sits with me with her hand on my forehead; I feel a hundred pounds lift. The DT’s and night terrors start. I concentrate on the toddler clothes hanging in the closet. I notice the little hangers holding little clothes that keep little bodies warm. The bedroom smells of children—life, innocence, happiness and freedom. God what I wouldn’t give to be that innocent again

The next day my sister drives me to a treatment center I’ve visited before. I love these people, they never gave up on me. I’m scared but I chose life. Seven hundred pounds, my soul weighs seven hundred pounds.

For the last 1,095 days, I have awakened each morning and chosen life. I pray each morning when I wake and again at night before going to bed. Each day I concentrate on three things: trust God, clean house (morally), and help others. Today I am closer to being the man I always thought I could be. My soul has been lifted from a weight that once pulled me to the depths of hell to one of lofty spirit. And for that I am grateful. But that’s just today and tomorrow I start all over. And for that too I am grateful.

Click here to listen to a song I wrote about the experience.

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It’s been a long time getting to this point with my latest song, “Outlive.” The song’s original title was “The Greatest Gift” based off something my mother used to say to me when I was younger. She’d say “the greatest gift a child can give is that their parents they outlive.” When I was at my bottom, and God willing my last one, and considering suicide, I believe it was a prayer from my mother and those words that saved me.

I’ve been working hard on the lyrics for this years NSAI/CMT Song Contest. Originally I wanted to record the vocals myself, but due to time constraints and getting coaching from my vocal coach, I decided to go ahead and pay for a professional demo singer. I’m glad I did, I got a chance to hear what it could possibly sound like on the radio by a country artist. I love it, and I’m proud of it. God willing someday I’ll hear it on the radio and hopefully it will inspire someone.

This song is about my bottom, and my mothers prayer, you can listen and read lyrics HERE or click play below.

[See post to listen to audio]

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