Why you can’t reason with an addict.

It’s painful when someone we care about doesn’t seem to want to turn away from their addiction. Why can’t they see what see?

We try to reason with them. We’re sure if they can just shift their perspective and see the bigger picture, as we do, they’ll stop their destructive behavior.

Of course we think this way. Our world runs on reason.

When we disagree with someone we seek to persuade them; we elect our politicians by discourse and rational debate; we educate by reason. Reason makes the world go around.

We are used to others responding to argument, debate and informed opinion.

We expect to be able to enter into a similar kind of reasoned discourse with the addict.

It won’t happen. By time we realize that it won’t, our loved one could be dead, incarcerated or on the streets.

Addiction makes mincemeat of reason. It chews it up and spits it out.

Think of addiction as your extremely right wing, deeply political Conservative, Christian Fundamentalist brother-in-law at the Thanksgiving table pretending to listen politely to your Liberal nieces impassioned plea for amnesty for all illegal immigrants. Nothing is penetrating.

If you abandon reason as a tool in dealing with the addict what, then, are you left with? How about emotion?

If you have someone dear to you who is addicted you’ve probably done your fair share of crying, threatening, pleading and demanding. Any of it work for more than a couple of days?

How about bribes, manipulation, sleight of hand? Think - hiding bottles, canceling credit cards, “outing” the addict to other family members. Any of it work?

What works, ultimately, is taking the focus off of the addict and putting it squarely where you have an unassailable right to put it – on yourself.

Here’s where you take the 12 Step Serenity Prayer to heart. You actually have zero control over what anyone else does or does not do - but you have absolute control over your own actions.

You can’t control whether someone else drinks or uses. You can control the fact that you refuse to participate in what is, essentially, an assisted suicide, in the life of your loved one. You can control whether or not you will continue to prolong their support, continue to facilitate and even fund their access to drugs, and continue to put up with their b.s. You can control whether or not you do things which hurt you and cause you anxiety or stress.

When dealing with the addict, it definitely takes two to tango. They need to be supported and enabled; you need to support and enable them. One of you has to step out of the game. They won’t - so you must.

Just say no.

When you’re true to your own values and quietly and firmly take a stand that you’re no longer going to continue with your past enabling behavior because it’s not good for you – you’re untouchable and beyond manipulation. You’re not threatening, cajoling, giving ultimatums, crying, manipulating. You’re just saying – sorry – but this is hurting me and I have to take care of myself. You may not choose to have a healthy, aware life – but I do.

Thich Nhat Hanh and the yellow roses

One dozen long-stemmed deep yellow roses to be exact; Valentine’s day roses. Not having a large enough vase to accommodate all 12 together, I put 6 in a vase in the living room and 6 on a Chinese step cabinet which I use as a bedside table.

The 6 in the living room lasted a good 5-6 days, not bad for supermarket-bought flowers. The 6 in my bedroom were eerily fresh and unwilted at the end of the second week. Next to the bedside flowers was a photo of Thich Nhat Hanh.

If you don’t know what he looks like, he has the kind of face that is occasionally, and only, seen on long-time Buddhist practitioners. It is unwrinkled. There are no frown lines, no deep vertical clefts on either side of the mouth. He wears a perpetually serene and unsurprised expression. I keep this photo by my bedside because I like to see it when I wake up, before I get out of bed and take on the day. Read more

New Year’s Resolutions: How to make ‘em so you keep ‘em.

First, let’s demystify them. A New Year’s Resolution is nothing more than a commitment made at the end of the year. The only difference is that instead of making it to someone else you’re making it to yourself.

If you’ve had a hard time keeping Resolutions in the past take a long, hard look at how you keep personal commitments to yourself throughout the rest of the year. When only you and your bathroom mirror know about it do you keep your promises in a responsible fashion or do you find yourself re-negotiating, back-pedaling and making excuses? Read more

Women Make Passes at Guys Who are Asses

This is it. The deep, dark secret that all women deny. We don’t want nice men.

We won’t tolerate them unless they’re related to us by blood or interviewing us for a job. Sure, they can buy us dinner every once in a while. But we don’t want to date them, sleep with them, or marry them. We say we do. We bemoan the fact to anyone who’ll listen that there are no “good guys” out there; that all men are animals, slobs or inconsiderate jerks. We say we’d take ten years off our lives to find a decent, kind honorable man.

We’re lying.

Why? Because we don’t like to admit that we willingly take shit in the name of love. It’s embarrassing and demeaning. We wonder what it says about our self-esteem that we stick with a guy who treats us badly. What would our mothers think?
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Four Easy Ways to De-Stress Your Holidays

We talk a lot about Holidays being stressful. But let’s think about this. It’s not every Holiday, is it? No matter how many wieners or burgers you grill; no matter how many tons of potato salad you make we don’t think about July 4th as being stress-inducing. Or Labor Day, Valentine’s Day or Memorial Day. So why is it that our expectations are that Thanksgiving, Christmas or Chanukah Holidays are inherently stressful?

The key lies in the word “expectations. The media, our own rose-tinted childhood memories and our deep-seated wishes for Hallmark Christmas set us up. We all want a magical time of warmth and togetherness with our loving and supportive family. Unfortunately the reality is often much different. Thanksgiving sets the tone when the whole motley crew you are sometimes mortified to call family congregates. Uncle Al won’t sit next to Auntie Jean because of a grudge forged when God was a boy. You’re presented with 14 different dietary requirements that nobody thought to tell you about sooner.
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5 Biggest Myths About Meditation

1. It’s relaxing.

This is a dangerous myth because people expect meditation to be like slipping into a hot tub. When they experience discomfort they think it’s not working or they’re not doing it right and they give up. In fact, it’s often not relaxing, at least not initially. In the beginning meditation is like exercise; if it doesn’t hurt you’re not doing it right. This puts off a lot of people right from the start.

They’ve taken the odd Yoga class where you lie on the floor, close your eyes and let your poor body rest. Everybody loves this. You’ve been moving for an hour, your limbs are stretched every which way and you relish the opportunity to let gravity take your muscles and let them drop.

Conventional sitting meditation may become like this over time but it probably won’t be right off the bat. When you sit down and face a wall or close your eyes and there’s nothing between you and the timer but your incessantly jabbering monkey mind it’s anything but relaxing. Horrifying and sobering are two more appropriate words that come to mind. Relaxing it ain’t.

2. You need time to meditate. Read more

The Last Taboo

I discovered the last taboo quite by accident. I call it the 78 year conversation. 78 because, last time I checked, that was the average life span.

I had gone to a Zen Center to learn meditation. The idea of sitting down everyday for a time in peace and stillness appealed to me. How hard could it be? I could be contemplative at times. I could sit by myself quite happily watching the sun go down. Especially if I had someone with me to share it with.

We were led into a small room and told to take off our shoes and sit on meditation cushions. Our instructor told us we were to close our eyes and breathe slowly and purposefully in and out. We should try to clear out minds of any thoughts. If a rogue thought did enter our mind we should acknowledge it but not attach ourselves to it. Read more

A Bodishattva Never Hesitates

He was in his sixties - out of shape, but not too out of shape that he couldn’t cradle a large, limp dog in his arms. I was coming off the dog beach near my house and he was just stepping on to it.

The dog’s head hung over one arm. There was a towel, in case of spills, underneath him.

“Bringing your baby to the beach?” I asked sympathetically.

“It’s his last day,” the man replied. Read more

Spam as Spiritual Practice

They come to me daily. They are as predictable as waves, As plentiful as rain. They are spam and as far as I know there is no singular form for the word.

They are the first thing I see when I start my workday. Most prevalent and creative are the exhortations for organ enhancements. Ah, had I a penis I doubt that I would send money across the internet to a snake oil cybersalesman. But – some poor soul obviously does.

Next come the offers of cheap Canadian drugs followed closely by the demands to re-fi my non-existent house regardless of whether I actually have any means of income. (No credit. No job. No problem!). Then - the off-market softwares, the porn, and once, inexplicably, a dating service intended exclusively for Christian singles.

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The Optimum Mind is Flexible

I see the flag move in the wind. Is it the flag that moves or the wind that moves.

It is the mind that moves.

Whenever I want to give myself a kick in the rear about getting stuck in patterns of reaction I think about Bert Waninger. In fact, I think about him anyway every couple of years.

Bert was a quiet, gentlemanly guy with manners from another era. He was brought up in Austria and his parents taught him Old World ways and values which he brought with him to Los Angeles. Some played well; some didn’t.

He had a strongly-developed sense of justice which he usually served up with a side order of grievance and moral absolutism. We kidded him to his face about being a Pollyanna.

He had a hard time getting girls and I used to give him dating advice. Put yourself out there. They won’t come to you. Knowing in my heart that he came across as just too good. He was an ambassador from another time.

Time passed and I lost touch with him until I opened the newspaper one morning and saw his name on the front page of the Metro section. There had been a spate of “Follow-home” robberies that year and apparently some thugs had followed him to his house and demanded the keys to his car when he got out.

Bert refused and they shot him in the head and left him to bleed to death like roadkill in his own driveway.

The article went on to interview his neighbors who all commented on how shocked they were that he had taken a stand because he was such a quiet, gentle guy. He must have really loved that car, they said.

Some how it made things sadder when I read that the car he was desperately protecting was the same Mercedes he had had when I had known him several years earlier and it wasn’t new then.

But I think I knew why he refused. It wasn’t the car. He was always too careful to drive uninsured, anyway. It was the fact that what these punks were doing was wrong and immoral. You didn’t just walk up to someone and put a gun to their heads and demand their stuff. And he couldn’t get past that.

So, I thought, that’s why he died. Because the world wasn’t fair and wasn’t right. And he couldn’t accept that and get on with the business of living. Couldn’t move away from the sense of justice instilled in him so many years ago. So he died protecting six cylinders and a fancy hood ornament.

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