I am currently about a third of the way through a book that is designed to embolden and invigorate writers in “Just thirty days” which I purchased online to aid in my reentering of the world of being a full time scribe. Today, this thirty day dude says to “write who you are” which is uncanny because that is exactly what I was planning to do when I sat down at the keyboard. I am sitting here working on two hours sleep supported by a $5.00 “Pumpkin Spiced Late” from that bastion of Yuppiedom, Starbucks. The hour is one that is unheard of in my realm as it is what passes normally as the middle of the night for me. 9:55 AM. I heeded the Weather Channel with its tale of a soon to arrive instance of deluge, destruction, and devastation of biblical flood proportion by taking a trek to the nearest Wal-Mart to restock the shelves with necessities and some chocolate covered cherries that are now on the shelves in expectation of the approaching holidays. (Phew, that was a long damn sentence)
Since resuming my dissemination of thoughts, dreams, and words of wit I have discovered that I, rhetorically speaking, turned the machine on and broke the key off in the ignition. I have ideas and thoughts flying everywhere which I am attempting to place properly, relearning the ins and outs of writing in the age of the Cyber God, and yearning for the days when it was just a natural event that happened every day. I am surrendering to the idea of marketing my words and reaching as many people as possible. I have the audacity within me that might possibly delude me into believing that others will benefit from reading what I generate, and that there should be remuneration for such efforts.
In other words…I am happy as a pig in shit!
Vulgarity aside, I have a conviction in me that it is not something that just popped out of the air. After the death of my Sweet Deifiúr Paula I sat my ass in a recliner and stared at the computer for two and a half years. I would first remind myself that I need to write. I had friends e-mail me that same sentiment, others continually asked about my efforts at penmanship. I told them all that it wasn’t there but that it would come back. I prayed for God to give me back this “gift” which others told me I possess. I thought of story ideas and read blogs from writers I respect. I even opened files occasionally to edit the “Next Great American Novel” which is still languishing untouched.
Then I had a serious talk with God…and He answered.
I lead a simple life as a general practice. Being medically retired has left me with much time to pursue differing matters. First, there are the 200+ satellite channels on my HDTV. Social media has become a regular part of my life with all its ensuing nonsense and excrement.
Then there is God.
I am in recovery and recently celebrated 20 years in a spiritual Twelve Step program. About four years ago I found it necessary to change sponsors. Sponsors being persons in the program who act as a guide through the Steps and Spiritual life one will engage in as a member of this Fellowship. I was at a particularly low place in my life and needed a…well…something.
The sponsor I had was a wonderful man who lived about a two hour ride away. The telephone is all fine and well, but face to face is really the best paradigm for sponsorship. The gentleman I asked to act as a replacement is, on the outside, quite an unlikely choice. If you ever hear the word “cowboy” then you are speaking of my sponsor. Many aspire to that title while this wonderful man lives it in every aspect of his life. He raises, buys, sells, transports, and depends on for his livelihood the “What’s for dinner” meat. He rides horses and runs fence lines, and can swing his beautiful wife around a country dance floor like no one I have ever seen.
We are both well known in our small constituency of folks seeking recovery in the same manner as the two of us. He has 30 years and with my 20 that translates to a reasonable amount of experience, strength, and hope, to share with other recovering addicts. We both think of it as a privilege to help others and never doubt our commitment. As I said we are an unlikely pair. He is George Jones to my Frank Zappa. Yet we have a common denominator.
He pursues his relationship with the Almighty through attendance at a church. I pursue my knowledge of the divine through reading and personal encounters. We, many time find that we are in exactly the same place regardless of the manner in which we worship our God.
If it ain’t broke don’t fix it!
We text each other bible verses and spiritual messages about recovery on a regular basis. This morning we did so, and he texted a query on why was I even awake. He knows my schedule and knows that I should have been asleep. I call him and we talked for a few minutes before my journey to the store. His bible verse this morning struck a particular note with me and responded back with a heartfelt appreciativeness. It was:
“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7
He had been at a church revival this week and got this idea out of that attendance. I received the same message to the extent that is has kept me awake. He asked the guy leading the revival about where in the bible he got his theme and was told that he (the preacher) did not know if it was in the bible. It was just the way he felt. I knew just exactly what that meant. My sponsor found it in the bible and sent it to me, but really he was in the same place that the preacher, and myself both existed.
We don’t know where the feeling came from, but we sure do like it.
The revelation that this belief is around the cosmos in many ways and fashions is not surprising. We are all meant to do something and be something. Whatever that is, wherever it comes from, the knowledge that it is there is sufficient. My friend and I believe that it ultimately comes from God with the caveat that it is our duty to perform some deed to receive it. Not like a reward, but simply because that is the way it is. To quote that wise Sage, Earl Hickey (My Name is Earl):
“Do good things and good things happen.”