In These Rooms Blog

Last Blog, I talked about ‘Radical Vulnerability’ and dealing with the hard facts and ugly truths of our lives. Two weeks ago, I tested positive for COVID 19. Just Damn. I immediately thought of the people with whom I had been in contact. They need to be notified of this positive test result. Time to get busy.

I contacted folks and received well wishes and expressions of support. I was thankful. One of the people I needed to contact was a business partner who is a brother. Over the next week, I received neither words of encouragement nor support from said partner. That was until I began getting daily text messages, phone calls and emails from him about an unresolved invoice. Not a word about my fight with a once-in-a-century life-threating virus. I am battling this virus and he’s blowing me up over a damn $600 business transaction. Just Damn.

Then my life partner chimed in. Kathleen and I are part of a couple’s recovery group. The group is predominantly white. Kathleen is white. I don’t like most people in this group and believe many of them are racist. Kathleen reminded me of the people in this group who have inquired about my health and wished me well in my battle with COVID. Just Damn. The brother, my so-called business partner, doesn’t give a damn about my health and well being but the white people I don’t like and feel are racist have the human decency and common courtesy to pray for me and wish me well. Just Damn.

I’m glad I am one of the blessed ones who by the grace of God has a story of beating COVID 19. I have a beautiful and loving life partner and loving friends and family praying with me and for me. Yep, truly blessed. But Just Damn. 

“…Some days seems like it just doesn’t fucking pay to get out of bed…”

Hunter

The Struggle Continues…

“…I entered Yale Divinity School in my early twenties in pursuit of a theological education. I was unaware of the origins of my addictive behaviors but aware of an underlining and nagging sense of being less than. I spent my life covering over and running from my past. What I found was an unthinkable level of hypocrisy.

My fiancé and I were staying at home of a senior episcopal priest and his family over a holiday weekend. Their son I believe was 11 or 12. When it came time to retire the first night, our host informed us we would be sleeping in seperate rooms since we were not married and there was an impressionable child in the home. They said they were not prudes and there would be no bed checks; what we did after the lights went out was our business. But, for appearance sake, we needed to put on this charade we weren’t sleeping together under their roof. They called this ‘civilized hypocrisy.’ But the hypocrisy does not end there.

This same senior priest was also my mentor and the man who sexually molested me on more than one occasion while in seminary and early on in my ministry. The effects of this on me and my relationship with my fiancé probably had something to do with the fact we never married (Well, yea). To this day, it has impacted all my romantic relationships and contributed to a level of distrust that permeates all my relationships. It was here my life first became awash in alcohol. It was here I felt the greatest need to hide the baggage of my past…” 

Yalie

Wowser. Thank you Yalie. I call this pulling back the curtain on the hard facts and ugly truths of our lives ‘Radical Vulnerability.’ Radical Vulnerability isn’t playing charades with our past or current lives. Radical Vulnerability is refusing to go along with or willingly participate in any so-called damn civilized hypocrisy. Because they may at times be destructive forces in our lives, Radical Vulnerability calls for outing our Cast of Characters (C of C’s) and even naming them. It’s giving them a voice and the space to own their part in our addictions or tell their side of our story. What can I say, Radical Vulnerability is the shit (smile).

“…Leaders of tomorrow are, therefore, first of all, those who are willing to put their own articulated faith at the disposal of those who ask for help. In this sense, they are servants of servants, because they are the first to enter the promised but dangerous land, the first to tell those who are afraid what they themselves have seen, heard and touched…”

Henri Nouwen

The Struggle Continues…

“…Transformation is overcoming the spiritual sickness of seeing my cast of characters as some kind of damn character defects…”

Hunter

I asked the question last time “…What if Henry concluded he is not merely an alcoholic but also ‘unapologetically broken’ and unabashedly a badass? Could hope for him reside there?” Henry is the alcoholic we met who has made a bunch of mistakes.

Henry lost a six-figure gig while in the joint on a DWI and vehicular homicide case. Did he quit drinking? Hell no. He was diagnosed with a multiple personality disorder. Was that the impetus for him to quit? Hell no. In fact, Henry has never been sober more than 12 straight months over the last 15 years with one two-year exception. The rest is a continued series of relapses and broken promises to quit. Meanwhile, he blames the loss of a solid relationship of 5 years with his gay lover and his visitation rights with his three children born out of wedlock on his angry temper “…What can I say, I stay mad a lot and drink to deal with all this…After two years sober, I knew in my mind with every fiber of my being that a drink wouldn’t solve anything, yet I still chose to take that drink. This sobriety stuff is simple but it’s sure as hell ain’t easy…” Come on Henry, that’s all you got after all this shit? Highly predictable (smile).

“…Henry is obviously dealing with strong addictive behaviors and perceived inner demons. He could probably use some therapeutic help for the mental and emotional damage caused by the maladies and even pathologies of his addictive behaviors…”

The Professor

Thanks, Professor (That’s a mouth full of something). All I know is Henry’s shit will continue to spiral downward until he starts to repair the damage of his past and past relationships. That is the work of the ‘unapologetically broken and unabashedly badass’. Henry has given us a front row seat to the horror movie that is his life. He acknowledged he is broken. He is unapologetically open about that In These Rooms. It’s time for him to show the same vulnerability in the relationships from his past, like with his children and lovers. 

There is also the power and freedom of our Cast of Characters (C of C’s) to change our story and share our ‘lived truth’. Maybe If Henry will allow the voices of his (C of C’s), his heart and soul, to speak without interruption, he can begin the search for the wounds where the light enters (Hell Henry, tell the damn truth and shame devil). Through is the way out. Now, that’s unabashedly badass! This is the hope for Henry and all of us that lies on the other side of the dangers in front of us. The Struggle Continues…

“…The hope we seek lies on the other side of the danger in front of us…” 

CT Vivian

We met Henry last time. Henry has yet to find his true bottom and has difficulty telling reality from fantasy (he’s an alcoholic--go figure). With his sharing, Henry gave us a front row seat to the horror movie he calls a life. One might conclude he should be locked up or dead by now. But he is not. He claims he has multiple personalities and talks with himself about himself. I call this shit a Cast of Characters (C of C’s) run amok and kicking his butt (smile).

Henry’s behavior doesn’t match his stated goal to stop drinking. His life seems to be a treadmill of a few small steps forward and several giant steps backward. His feelings and emotions about his drinking and his inability to stop are all over the damn map. The dialogues in Henry’s head, the inconsistency of his actions and his inability to stop drinking for good are tormenting him. Henry’s life is in a downward spiral. This merry-go-round needs to come to a halt before it and Henry crash and burn. 

But we are all spiritual beings having a human experience. Every person I meet In These Rooms has a (C of C’s) and is dealing with their inner demons. 

“…When you live in the land of death, sometimes your mind and soul get lost on the way home…”

The Professor

Every character has In Spite of Dreams and is a potential Heroic BadAss. This is the human struggle and that includes Henry. Maybe hope for Henry lies in transformation and not just sobriety. The wounds of his uncontrollable drinking could be where the light enters and he transforms how he occurs to himself. Henry isn’t crazy, hopeless or doomed to his current state of existence. What if Henry concluded he is not merely an alcoholic but also unapologetically broken and unabashedly a badass? Could hope for him reside there? 

More to come on the hope for Henry and our characters next time. The Struggle Continues…

There are three frogs on a log in a pond. One frog decides to jump in. How many frogs are left? Three. Deciding isn’t acting. Action in recovery requires going to work with what we have not what we think we need or want. The action required In These Rooms is the radical self-disclosure that gets to the heart of ‘our part’ in problems with people, places, events and circumstances. This work is about us and our characters not mental trips about systemic pathologies. Our dis-ease is our characters run amok and kicking our butts.

Take the brother I call Henry. Henry is a 39-year-old Asian male and a former playwright. He grew up in an alcoholic family. Henry is openly gay. He moves around a lot in search of work and says, “…sobriety is helping me find my true self. I watch movies, reads books, learn new languages, and I’m learning to play the guitar. More than just working a boring 12-Step Program, these are the things I’m doing to beat the disease…”

Henry lost his job and is trying to stay sane. Says he is “…trying to eat right and works out a lot. Lost a great gig while in jail for DWI and Vehicular Homicide. First time I took a drink, knew I was a different person…” He expresses having multiple personalities. I’d call it a damn cast of characters (smile). 

“…Got sober once. Stayed sober 5 years. Got drunk again. Second time, staying sober not so easy…” Continual series of relapses; only 12 months of sobriety in the last 15 years. Conclusion, “…good news, there is an answer. Bad news, there is an answer. Stop chasing sobriety and a better state of mind. I come to these meetings because it can be cheaper than therapy. For the couple of bucks, I put in the basket, I sometimes get more than I got outta a $60 therapy session…”

Angry a lot he says, “…Two years sober, I knew in my mind with every fiber of my being that a drink wouldn’t solve anything, yet I still chose to take that drink. You get good at what you practice. This sobriety shit is simple but it’s hard as hell. I get drunk we stay sober. Alcoholism is a disease of isolation cured by social interaction. Why I drink? Why I use? Probably, to deal with all this shit…”

Three thoughts here: 1) We are all characters on the stage of life; 2) Hope lies on the other side of the dangers in front of us; and 3) “…Don’t judge a man by his accomplishments; judge him by how high he had to climb…”
–Booker T. Washington

More on Henry next time. The Struggle Continues…

I admitted my life had become unmanageable. Life being unmanageable was the noise in my head at deafening decibels and my Cast of Characters (C of C’s) running riot. Doing the step work of recovery helped turn down the volume on the noise in the world in my head. 

The work of recovery requires vulnerability to turn down this volume. It simultaneously turns up the heat on my C of C’s. This vulnerability stuff requires dealing with the ugly facts and difficult truths of my life. I’d rather not focus here for fear of compromise with my addictive behaviors but there is power in the vulnerability of my heart and soul, not just my head. Just turning down the noise in my head ain’t cutting it. 

The power of this dangerous vulnerability is our capacity to turn up the heat on our (C of C’s) by paying attention to their cries and pain. These voices are the manifested pain of inner characters that are too big for the small roles in our lives we ask them to play. This is the constricted pain of these characters trying to adjust to playing their small roles and parts in our lives:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Marianne Williamson

I wonder why with Fr. Esteban, Yalie, X, Hunter, and, yes, the Professor running riot, my addictive behaviors are unrelenting. These characters manifest the pain of playing it small in my life when they possess the power to move the world. Go figure. The Struggle Continues…

Today, I shared in the meeting. I talked about acting out with prostitutes years ago while on a church junket to Cuba. I disclosed for the first time in a group I had a Master of Divinity Degree from Yale and was an ordained Episcopal priest. That was wild. I shared how in Embracing the Gift of My Faults (EGF) I had overcome the debilitating shame of my past. Or, at least I’m working on it. I stated I didn’t believe my addictions were a demon but a Cast of Characters (C of C’s) run amok. Let’s see, there is Fr. Esteban, Yalie, X, Hunter, and, oh yea, the Professor. It can get busy in my world at times but this is the mess that has given me a message. I hope (smile).

I call outing my Characters, “The Heat” — naming them and giving them a voice and the space to own their part in my addictions or tell their side of my story. This opening up could make me vulnerable but I also think of it as a positive power in a world of deceit and a lack of authenticity. 

“…If you’re looking forward from a place that is false, what you’re looking forward to is the road to hell…”

Unknown

The Heat is also on my characters by my mere presence In These Rooms. I believe I am In These Rooms to listen for the voice of my Higher Power in the stories of the people and to seek His face in their faces. But, my Character X has a different take on these rooms. “…I am here on behalf of my community. I come from people who are tired of being pimped by both major political parties and their minions. If I can learn something by being In These Rooms, going thru this 12-step shit, if I can learn something that will help my community give a damn about our freedom, then yea I’m  down with that…” Thank you X. 

“…Stories are transformation unveiled–either of characters or situations or both. If nothing gets altered or unveiled, you don’t have a story but a series of images or a chronicle of events…If your protagonist has no goal, makes no choices, has no struggles to overcome, you have no plot nor story…”

Steven James

The Struggle Continues…

Step 6: Were entirely ready to have a Higher Power remove all these defects of character; and Step 7: Humbly asked this Higher Power to remove our shortcomings.

The 12-Step Recovery Process

In listening today, it occurs to me we have not been encouraged to Embrace the Gift of our Faults (EGF) once we explore them in Steps 6 & 7 of Twelve Step Recovery Programs. It occurs to me that the incredible people in these rooms seek to go from bad to good or sick to well because they have never been given an opportunity to see themselves as Better for Having Been Broken. As I heard someone say a moment ago, “…The weller I get the sicker I am…” Better for Having Been Broken is a long way from what I am hearing today. Finding power in our pain to move the world is the last thing on folk’s minds. 

That’s when I hear awakening in the Story of a woman I will call Susan. I listen to the muted sound of joy coming through her pain. Susan is an ex-felon and drug dealer. I listen as she describes the pain of being a 29-year-old gay woman who has never held a legitimate job. She found one for the first time in her life and is excited and afraid at the same time. I listen to her share her gratitude for the program in her life and how its helped her clean her up “…Now, I feel like a lady…” she exclaims. She seems happy and proud about this moment even if you can hear in her voice how unsettled she is about what comes next and what may be about to happen to her.

Unsettled or not, Susan has found the magic In These Rooms and power in people’s stories to transform how she occurs to herself. The magic emerges when we begin dealing openly with the hard facts and ugly truths about our past. It gains power when we no longer see the conflicts in daily life as attacks on our life management skills and our decision making, or as evidence of our character defects. Every good story contains conflict. In owning and revealing the twists and turns of our stories, we find the power to turn the test of addiction into a testimony. I found this magic when I became aware that I had no story without my addictive behaviors and without Embracing the Gift of my Faults. I had no story to tell of unmerited love, redemption, strength and hope until things went wrong to the point my life had, in the words of Step 1, become unmanageable. My Story is where I made my Bones with my Addiction. Without these experiences, I had no strength, I had no hope. I could not even think of having an In-Spite-of Dream. Some may doubt this magic. Me, I found the beauty in my Story. I am Better for Having Been Broken. The Struggle Continues…

I sit in this meeting, listening to people talk about the sick person in their head that tells them to drink. I listen to people give testimonials about how the program helps them turn down the volume on the addict in their head, while at the same moment, that addict is outside laughing, doing push-ups, and waiting on this meeting to end.

I’ve heard these voices myself and not just when I’d been drinking. I heard them tell me to steal shit because I had to win by any means necessary. I heard them tell me to abandon a loving spouse without getting some counseling because God said it had to be “…my way or the highway…” I heard them tell me once I had a rap sheet that a life of crime was my destiny because I was a marked black man. I know the voices. I listen as the volume in this room gets turned down on my voices.

I call turning down the volume on these voices finding 12 Step Strength to keep moving forward one day at a time. That’s the real: it can be the difference between life and death. The work of turning down that damn volume–it can be the serenity for some that makes one more F-ing day on this earth livable—or even just possible.

“…When you live in the land of death, sometimes your mind and soul get lost on the way home…”

The Professor

But addiction doesn’t have to be the hero of the story. Our culture doesn’t like it, but for us to heal and transform our lives we need to place a greater premium on getting to the hard facts of the ugly truths about what produced our addictive behaviors in the first place. I call this turning the heat up on our inner characters. I call it transforming how we occur to ourselves. This is the power I found in Embracing the Gifts of my Faults (EGF), sharing my lived truth with the world, and dealing with the memories and past experiences that haunted me and brought me shame. I found the volume got turned down on my voices when I allowed them to tell their stories. My story is the home where my characters reside. I found the volume got turned way down when I found the strength in my heart and soul to out these characters, give them a name and ask them for their In-Spite-of Dreams. I found the volume got turned down when I remembered I am more than the sum of my addictive behaviors. I am a Cast of Characters (C of C’s).

I have a story to tell that somebody just might want and need to hear. I remembered my wounds are where the light enters. The Struggle Continues…

We met Paula last time. Paula is an alcoholic, addict and what many might describe as an irresponsible mother. Paula is responsible for her actions whether she likes it or not and Paula needs to undoubtedly get her shit together. Some might conclude, Paula should stop being selfish and think more about the welfare of her family during her drunkenness and addictive acting out. But, Paula’s Story needs neither our ire, sympathy nor pity. The wound is where the light enters.

Paula is also a spiritual being. Paula is having a deeply traumatic human experience that has caused her life to spiral downward. Paula has had some deeply tragic and debilitating experiences but Paula can do better for herself and her children. What does a Heroic BadAss get that others don’t’? The Power is in the Pain. Their so-called wounds are a door to In Spite of Dreams, to the embrace of their Cast of Characters, and their faults, and the capacity to rise from the tragedy and mess off their lives.

No, Paula Story doesn’t need our ire, sympathy or pity. There is more to her and her Story than a nightmare of despair. She doesn’t and shouldn’t go thru all this shit just to check out or copout now. In These Rooms, most find the strength thru working the 12 Steps to keep moving forward one day at a time. The Heroic BadAsses go thru the same hell as everyone else but they also find the tools to reframe their stories, own their demons and Embrace the Gift of their Faults (EGF). Like that sick character in Paula’s head that tells her to go out drinking when she should be at home taking better care of her children. That is the true villain here. The wound is where the light enters. Paula and her story are also a source of hope.

I hear Paula’s disappointment and sorrow over the wreckage of her past, her addictive behaviors and her life. But I also hear in her story the muted voice of a Latent Powerful Character (LPC) with a story to tell of heroic self-determination that is bigger than just being an addict. In the muted tone of Paula’s Story, I hear the voice of a BadAss LPC who could hold the keys to Paula telling a new story, a uniquely American Story. Paula may be In These Rooms, but the room doesn’t have to live in nor define Paula. The wound and the room can be for Paula and all of us where the light entered. The Struggle Continues…