There should be joy in living the spiritual life. A faith without joy is not entirely genuine. If I am not happier as a result of my faith, there is probably something wrong with it. Faith in God should bring me a deep feeling of happiness and security, no matter what happens on the surface of your life. Each new day is another opportunity to serve God and improve my relationships with other people. This should bring joy. Life should be abundant and outreaching. It should be glowing and outgoing, in ever-widening circles.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Running Toward My Roar 2011
My name is Steve and I am an alcoholic. I am really honored to tell my story - I think for me, the secomd step is the most important - the second step and the principle behind the second step is HOPE. HOPE has been the key to my sobriety and recovery and I could not stay sober until I found hope. I believe that all of the answers for me to deal with life are found in the STEPS = ”Solutions To Every Problem in Sobriety.” Many people in Alcoholics Anonymous say that the only step we need to do perfectly is the first step – We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.
However, for me, I needed to do the second step, if not perfectly, thoroughly; I needed to learn, understand and truly believe that a power greater than me, whom I will call God, could and would restore me to sanity. I needed you, my sponsor, meetings and the Big Book, but, in the end, it was only when I acknowledged that I was responsible for the mess I had made of my life and I needed to decide whether I was going to go on drinking or whether I was going to do whatever it took to change so that I would no longer need to drink.
I had to believe that I could change. I believed in God, though not the dogma attached to many churches or religions. I just didn’t think that God cared whether I drank or not. So, despite the efforts of MANY members of AA, various detox hospitalizations and three 28 day treatment programs, I could not stay sober despite acknowledging, accepting and conceding to myself that I was an alcoholic and believing that the Program worked.
I grew up in a family dynamic of the upper middle class – loving, supportive, ambitious and as dysfunction as most families – but I never felt that I really belonged. I remember feeling different from a very young age. It was probably sometime between kindergarten and first grade that I knew I was going to have to fend for myself and needed to figure out the rules of this world. I had these dreams and passions that kept get stifled for some reason. I was an artistic kid and a terrible team athlete. I loved sailing, waterskiing, and swimming, but could not play baseball, basketball or football to save my life. Still, I felt this endless restlessness and dissatisfaction in life – which I had to prove my worth in being allowed in my family, in my school, in my community, in my country and in the world. I went to 10 schools in 12 years up through high school because of family moves and school changes.
When I was in seventh grade, an incident prompted a major change in me. I was in gym class and we had to run eight laps around the track. By the time the other guys had completed the eight laps I was still last and just completed my 7th lap. It seemed ridiculous for me to keep everyone waiting while I would run the 8th lap, so I lied and told the coach that I had finished. All the other guys immediately admonished me and condemned me. They called me a liar and a cheat – and I was. It was a Friday and I pretended to be sick the following week – all week – in hopes that they would all forget me. While I stayed home, I reflected on what a disgrace I was and how I seemed to be so unsuccessful in my day to day living. I would watch movies and retreat into fantasy – I dreamed I was like James Bond leading a life of adventure and intrigue all over the world. The fantasy me knew the major cities of the world intimately and spoke several languages. The real me memorized the maps of the capitals of Europe, Africa, Asia and South America. The real me studied the histories and the cultures of the world. The real me learned to speak several languages. The real me did everything possible to travel around the world – going to places in reality and, if not, then through movies, books and pen pals.
As a teenager, I resolved that I was going to become as close to the “fantasy me” as I could. For the next 6 years of junior high school and high school I coped perfectly with the world by escaping to my fantasy world whenever I was unsatisfied with the real world or needed an escape. When I started college, I went into a panic that I would not succeed and I would never be worthy of anything. However, the next four years were years of tremendous success. I was the Chief Justice of the Student Court, an honor student, involved in everything and very happy. After my freshman year, I realized that I had not had to retreat to my fantasy life because once I was away from my family and in college, I felt free to become my true self and I sought earnestly to study, work hard and do anything that would prepare me to become the man of my dreams. I did not drink much in college, but I remember getting drunk a few times. I thought that is what college kids do. Still, I graduated summa cum laude, gave the commencement address at my graduation and seemed on top of the world with a bright future. The problem was that I had a secret – I was gay and that was not in my plan. I had no idea how to solve it – I prayed to be “cured of my affliction.”
I took a year off between college and law school to study and teach English in Japan. I also went to Japan to cure myself of being gay – I reasoned that Japanese women were hot and Japanese guys were not and I had a book that promised a cure. Once I got to Japan, once again, I was gripped with fear that I would be a failure; that I would not succeed. I doubted myself and felt that I again would never succeed or amount to anything. There I drank like the Japanese did - a lot. One night at a club, I had too much to drink and decided to break dance. It was the 80’s. I did break dance and I broke my ankle. I was supposed to take my test to get my black belt in Shorinji Kempo and had to do it in a cast from the Red Cross hospital. I realized the cure was not going to work and I delayed dealing with the homosexual issue. Nevertheless, I left Japan with a great sense of love for the country, a black belt, many friends, and I felt accomplished.
I arrived at the University of Florida on a Sunday from my year in Japan and started law school on Monday. Apart from a great culture shock, I went again into panic at starting a new challenge. I felt that I was a loser again, that I would never succeed and I was totally unworthy of anything good. Plus, I had not found a resolution to the gay issue. Well, after a difficult first year, I was accepted to clerk with a Japanese American law firm in Chicago and lived with my grandparents. There, I discovered the magic of alcohol. Every day after work, I would come home and have cocktails with my grandparents. My grandfather was a prominent lawyer in Chicago, Harvard educated and kind of my hero. I would drink Scotch with him and talk about the law. I felt I had arrived and drank every night. When I went back to law school, I stopped the daily drinking, but I sensed that alcohol had an unnatural power over me.
Just as outward success had come in high school, college and Japan, it also came to me in law school. I taught legal research and writing; I was elected to a national office as the Treasurer of the Association of International Law Societies and I served as the Editor in Chief of the Florida International Law Journal. I also worked as the graduate intern in the International Student Center. I dreamed of being a successful international lawyer. At the end of law school, I was hired by an international corporate firm in Chicago and earned one of the highest starting salaries in my class. It was a successor firm to my grandfather’s firm. Once again, the future looked nothing but bright.
Once I was assured of my success, I came out to myself as well as my family and this was very difficult for my family, but they loved me and learned to accept this “shame” over time. “At least, Steve is a successful lawyer”. Within a few years, I was making more money than I knew what to do with and spending it just as fast. I was traveling to Europe and Asia on exotic corporate transactions and all over the United States. I went through a few short relationships and drank too much but without major consequence.
However, I knew deep inside that I did not drink like normal people. I often liked to drink alone and finally decided to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. That experience taught me that terrible things happened to alcoholics and it was better not to associate with them or I would end up like them. I drank in the closet like I had lived in the closet. This went on for a few more years.
I finally met someone I wanted to spend my life with in 1994 and he moved from New York to be with me. We started a life together and I made sure that it was as perfect as possible by writing checks and drinking to solve all my problems. I hid my worst drinking from him, but he knew something was wrong. In 1998, we had a commitment ceremony, my father had a stroke and lost his job as the president of a big company and my law firm decided to break up. I went with a new firm and immediately knew it was not the right place for me, but I felt trapped and drank even more. By 2000, my drinking was affecting my work and my relationship, actually everything. Alcohol had taken over my life and I had to hide this from everyone. I lied to my partner, I lied to my family and I lied to my law partners and clients. Soon I was lying about my work and started to falsify documents to match my lies. In 2002, my deceit was uncovered and I was fired from my firm.
I spend the next year and a half drinking, trying to work as an investment banker and going in and out of detox and treatment. My partner had finally lost all hope for me and lost all trust in me. I went to a 28 day treatment program in Chicago and did great. I felt good for the first time in years. It was recommended that I go to a halfway house, but I wanted to go home. After leaving treatment and seeing the wreckage of my life, there seemed to be only one way to cope with it – keep drinking. I was drunk again three days after treatment. I was sent back again for a week and then went to a halfway house where I lasted two days and was kicked out for drinking. I simply was hopeless – my life seemed lost forever.
My partner called my parents in Florida and they came to get me. I was basically poured out of Chicago and into Orlando where I stayed for three months going to AA and drinking whenever I could. I went back to Chicago to try to get a job with Credit Suisse, but I was shaking so much that I had to go out and get some vodka just to finish the aptitude test. I left and kept drinking – I was a homeless man in an Armani suit. I went back to the loft I shared with my partner and basically broken while he was gone and drank there. In the middle of the night, I woke up and needed more alcohol so, still intoxicated, I climbed over my balcony on the tenth floor into the loft of the 82 year old lady next door and stole her vodka.
I was sent to treatment in St. Pete Beach, Florida, not far from where I had gone to college and got sober. I was in treatment 71 days and then began working at the treatment center. I worked hard at my recovery and had a good sponsor. We did a fourth and fifth step together on a cloudy day on the beach and were both crying in the end. He said “No wonder you could not stop drinking…but you never have to drink again.” I said, “I may have to go to prison.” He replied, “Then you will go sober.” Suddenly the sun came out and we both sat in marvel at the timing as rays of sunshine burst through the clouds. I also got a part-time job crewing on dolphin watch sailboats. I literally lived with the dolphin. I bought a Hobie-cat and started taking clients out to show them the thrill of living large in sobriety as a dolphin popped up next to the boat. I took them to the beach, kayaking and all kinds of activities that took their breath away. Sober life is an adventure became my mantra.
I wish I could say I lived happily ever after, but my story is real life and alcoholism is a subtle foe that wants me dead. After working in treatment for a year and a half and becoming the poster child for the treatment center, several things happened and I once again found myself hopeless and alone. I don’t remember the details but drove myself to the beach and started drinking in my car. I passed out and was awaken by the police and arrested for DUI. Until that point, a DUI was the only thing that had not happened to me as a result of my drinking. The treatment center I was working for wanted to keep me and sent me to its center in Laguna Beach, California. I sobered up. The last weekend of April, 2006, I attended an AA convention called “Miracles Happen”. I was profoundly moved by it and prayed for a miracle. About 20 minutes later, I received a call on my cel phone from an old law partner in Chicago. The Chicago Tribune had an article in it that I had been indicted for document fraud. I flew to Chicago and plead not guilty. Once again, I was so full of fear and doubt – I was hopeless. I drank on a rampage and was near death several times. I was facing years in federal prison.
Finally, I did what so many of us do. I crawled out of bed shaking, in pain and begged, begged God to help me. I always believed in God, but I never believed He cared if I drank. I promised I would do anything as long as I could be shown it was worth it, in other words, as long as I can have hope. I learned that night that hope does not abandon us, we abandon it. I woke up the next day feeling much better than I anticipated and had surrendered to my fate. For the first time, trusting in whatever outcome would come and still hoping for the miracle that I had prayed for. I wanted the miracle to be that I was miraculously exonerated. God had other plans.
For the next several months I wrestled and struggled to stay sober. In January 2007, I thought I was going to kill myself. I did not want to drink, but I did not want to face my future. I went to a Tuesday night meeting in Lake Mary and prayed for help. Two other ladies came and one suggested we read a story from the big book. Independently, we each opened to page ---, the first page of the story “Grounded” about a pilot who had to go to federal prison as a result of his drinking. We read it and I learned that “fear is not the absence of fear, but the walking in the face of it.
The next month I was back in Chicago and getting ready for my sentencing. I went to an AA meeting the night before and it did not help my fear and anxiety of what my fate would be. I prayed again, “Look, God, I know I am always asking for your help, but I am so, so afraid. Please just let me know you are with me! Please!” I jumped in a taxi back to my hotel. As I got out, a homeless guy asked me if I wanted my shoes shined. I told him it was too cold and I just wanted to go inside. He asked if I could help him out and I gave him some money. “Hey, thanks!” he said, “what’s your name?” He held out his hand and looked me straight in the eye with a strange intensity. “Steve,” I told him. “Well, Steve,” he said, “my name is Emmanuel.” Then, he shook my hand and walked away. Realizing that Emmanuel means “I am with you” I looked up into the cold dark sky and smiled. “OK, I will give you that one,” I said, looking into the sky, “that one was good!” No matter what was to happen, I felt that God heard my prayer and I would not be alone.
The next day I was sentenced to 24 months in federal prison. I felt that God was with me and still hated the idea of it, but I felt hope for the first time. It was a hope borne out of nothing but being sober and believing that a power greater than me could restore me to sanity. Going to prison to me was my greatest fear since I was a child and all my nightmares involved concentration camps. I arrived at the Pensacola federal prison camp, was strip searched, everything but my recovery bible taken away, and put into the population. I thought, “OK, so here is your worst nightmare...face it!” I could not talk to my family for five days. The first morning, I met one of the other two members of Alcoholics Anonymous. We were now three of a population of 700, approximately 500 of which were there for drug related crimes.
I was scared and, being gay, I was going to be back in the closet for as long as it took. The following weekend though, the camp had a special program called “Insight” or as the inmates called it “Hug a thug” and I was allowed to go. During the program, this lady talked about facing fear. She said that, when lions hunt, the male lions will come across a pack of prey and crouch down in the brush while the female lions carefully encircle the prey on all three sides. Then the male lions let out their fierce roar!! When the prey hears the roar, they run away in fear right into the mouths of the female lions. The lesson is “Run toward your Roar”. During the course of the weekend, I had come to appoint where I either had to lie about being gay or tell the truth. I told the truth and it was all around the camp the next day. Suddenly, many guys who had previously spoken to me now stayed well away.
There was this crazy ex-marine and FBI agent in for corruption and he ran a Navy Seals workout. I joined up and took whatever physical test he dished out. None of the other guys were willing to go to the lengths that I was. I remembered that Clancy got sober when he got willing to do the things he did not want to do so whenever I faced a situation that I did not want, I got willing to do it. My job was to work in the wood shop. I volunteered to do wood working and I was assigned to carve dolphin out of wood because “Kiki” the dolphin was the camp’s mascot. I made over one hundred dolphin carvings.
Every morning I would wake up at 5:00 am and would go out to the weight pile to lift weights. Every morning I prayed that I would get a miracle that would allow me to leave, but after about two weeks, I just prayed for a sign that God was still with me. That evening, I was walking to the one AA meeting and heard my name being called to Dorm C. I was told that I had been accepted to the Drug and Alcohol Program which would get me out in nine (9) months. It was the answer to my prayer. However, the original prayer had gone unanswered, the prayer when I had asked for a miracle at “Miracles Happen”. Now this is hard to say, but after praying for the answer why, why did I have to go through all this, the answer that came to me was this: “Steve, I am sick and tired of your lack of faith in me and in you. I am sick of carrying you from one part of your journey to the next with such doubt. Look at your life! Look at it! In every change, in every challenge, in every dilemma and in every difficult moment, I have been with you always and, damn it, I am tired of your doubt, so I decided that you need to spend some time in the worst possible place in your mind to know that I will always be with you and I will always protect you in all times until the moment I take you from this life.” Now, I don’t know how that came into my heart and mind, but from that moment, I totally surrendered to who I was, and to where I was, and from that moment, I have been trying to be the best that I can be. I realized that when I surrendered to who I really was, I became the person I always wanted to be. When my group finished the Drug and Alcohol Program, I gave the graduation speech before the other 90 inmates and 25 staff. It meant more to me than the graduation speech I had given at my college graduation 24 years prior.
I was released in April 2008 to spend 6 months in a federal halfway house in Orlando, Florida and home confinement. I was released from that program on October 4, 2008. In March 2011, I was asked to come back to organize AA and NA meetings at the federal halfway house and lead a group every Monday night.
While I was on house arrest, I worked at a law firm for someone with whom I went to law school. I stayed active in AA with my sponsor, sponsoring others and taking various service positions. I am working on my Masters in Addiction Counseling and plan to get a Ph.D. and open my own treatment center. I started running while I was in the camp and continued running after that. I have run over 5 marathons, 12 half marathons, 30 5K, 10k, and 15k races. In August 2009, I completed the Chicago Triathlon and I went back to Chicago where they had to pour me out and I was sentenced in disgrace.
On January 10, 2010, I completed the Disney Marathon and I vindicated that seventh grader who never finished his eight laps in disgrace. On October 10, 2010 to show myself that I am really “back on my feet” as further self amends I raised money for a charity in South Sudan, GUA Africa and ran the Chicago Marathon. This year my goal for Run for GUA Africa is to complete 11 marathons for 2011 and to raise $11,000 for GUA Africa and Emma Academy in the newly independent South Sudan.
In May 2010, my three (3) year probation was terminated a year and a half early. I worked as a law clerk and legal researcher for an insurance defense firm. I have a blog called Sober Adventure Steve and it is anonymous, but I was asked to resign from that law firm because of my blog. I was very unhappy there and it was another example of God doing for me what I could not do for myself.
This year, I became certified in the state of Florida as a Certified Addiction Specialist and conduct interventions. I completed a Substance Abuse Counselor program from Stonebridge Colleges in England and graduated with Distinction. I am leading groups at two different treatment centers and work tirelessly with alcoholics and addicts in and out of recovery. I hold several service positions in Alcoholics Anonymous. I plan to open a treatment center for alcoholics and addicts within three years.
Today, life is difficult, but I always have hope. My law career is going to take a long time to be made right. Many financial amends are still before me and I have a lot of other amends to make. I have a lot of goals and dreams, but I trust that my higher power will guide me if I let Him. Problems now are opportunities and I know that God truly has me best when He has me at His mercy. I believe, truly believe, the first thing I ever heard in AA – “Don’t give up just before the miracle happens.” My hope will never die. AA will never let me down. I have been restored to sanity and plan to spend the rest of my life giving what has been so freely given to me. My greatest antidote for fear is what I learned in prison “Run toward your Roarrrrrrrrr.”
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Morning Run - Run for the Sun - Run for Emma Academy
Today I took a 6 mile training run on New Smyrna Beach at 6am. It was still dark when I began and about 7:40 am the sun came up. Like all races I began in the dark, I started in peace and ran for GUA Africa. I imagine running across the African plane. I imagine running along the coast of Kenya, Ethiopia, South Africa and the Indian Ocean. I imagine running with Kilimanjaro in the background and I imagine that I might one day be the person I always wanted to be.
Emma McCune was a British Aid Worker who rescued Emmanuel Jal from a refugee camp and believed in him when there was no reason to. She encouraged him and saved him. Jal’s mother died when he was 6 years old. Emma McCune died when he was 15 years old. My mother never stopped believing in me and she rescued me as well.
Here are the lyrics to Emmanuel Jal’s song, Emma, and the inspiration for Emma Academy:
EMMA
This one goes out to Emma McCune.
Angel to the rescue one afternoon.
I’m here because she rescued me.
I’m proud to carry your legacy.
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
You would have seen my face on the telly. Pot hungry belly.
Flies in my eyes. Head too big for my size.
Just another little starving child running around Africa born to be wise.
Praise God! Praise the almighty for sending an angel to rescue me.
I got a reason for being on this earth.
Cause I know more than many what a life is worth.
Now that I get a chance to stand my ground, I’m going to run over mountains leaps and bounds.
I ain’t an angel, I hope to be one soon. And if I am, I want to be like Emma McCune.
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
I would have probably starved from starvation…or some other wretched disease.
I would have grown up with no education…just a starving refugee.
I stand here because someone cared.
I stand here because someone dared.
I know there’s another person out there willing to save the life of a child.
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
I remember the time when I was small,
I couldn’t read or write at all.
Now I’m all grown up. Got my education.
The sky is the limit and I can’t be stopped.
I know I will pray for this day to come.
And I’ll pray that the world will find wisdom.
To give the poor and needy some assistance.
Instead of putting up resistance.
Sitting and waiting for the politics of business.
It ain’t gonna happen…
They’re all sitting on their asses;
Popping champagne and scorching up the masses.
Coming from a refugee boy soldier, but I still got my dignity.
I gotta say it again, “If Emma never rescued me,
I’d be a corpse on the African plain (echo).
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
Emma McCune was a British Aid Worker who rescued Emmanuel Jal from a refugee camp and believed in him when there was no reason to. She encouraged him and saved him. Jal’s mother died when he was 6 years old. Emma McCune died when he was 15 years old. My mother never stopped believing in me and she rescued me as well.
Here are the lyrics to Emmanuel Jal’s song, Emma, and the inspiration for Emma Academy:
EMMA
This one goes out to Emma McCune.
Angel to the rescue one afternoon.
I’m here because she rescued me.
I’m proud to carry your legacy.
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
You would have seen my face on the telly. Pot hungry belly.
Flies in my eyes. Head too big for my size.
Just another little starving child running around Africa born to be wise.
Praise God! Praise the almighty for sending an angel to rescue me.
I got a reason for being on this earth.
Cause I know more than many what a life is worth.
Now that I get a chance to stand my ground, I’m going to run over mountains leaps and bounds.
I ain’t an angel, I hope to be one soon. And if I am, I want to be like Emma McCune.
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
I would have probably starved from starvation…or some other wretched disease.
I would have grown up with no education…just a starving refugee.
I stand here because someone cared.
I stand here because someone dared.
I know there’s another person out there willing to save the life of a child.
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
I remember the time when I was small,
I couldn’t read or write at all.
Now I’m all grown up. Got my education.
The sky is the limit and I can’t be stopped.
I know I will pray for this day to come.
And I’ll pray that the world will find wisdom.
To give the poor and needy some assistance.
Instead of putting up resistance.
Sitting and waiting for the politics of business.
It ain’t gonna happen…
They’re all sitting on their asses;
Popping champagne and scorching up the masses.
Coming from a refugee boy soldier, but I still got my dignity.
I gotta say it again, “If Emma never rescued me,
I’d be a corpse on the African plain (echo).
Chorus What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
What would I be, another starving refugee?
What would I be if Emma never rescued me?
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The True Goal - Trying Your Best
When I was young, I would only do something if I was fairly good at it right away and got better at it quickly. Winning and losing were taught to be very important. Winners were good and losers were bad. The idea of losing was the worst possible thing. When I became a lawyer, I avoided litigation because there were winners and losers and I could not bear the idea of losing. I hated sales, because the only way to win is to complete the sale. Ironically, I lost everything I had physically, mentally and spiritually...but in losing I gained myself. I found out who I was and I liked the person I found. It is said that when you are down to nothing, God is up to something.
In the process of losing everything and everyone, I learned a very simple lesson - the true goal is Trying My Best!! Today, I run as smart and as hard as I can. I swim, cycling, surf, sail, kayak and live as best I can - every day. I have learned that trying my best is the best that I can do and is all I need to do. Trying hard is better than winning without effort. Doing my best and losing is better than winning. A person's true measure is whether he or she tries to do the best always. Today I do my best and let God take care of the rest.
In the process of losing everything and everyone, I learned a very simple lesson - the true goal is Trying My Best!! Today, I run as smart and as hard as I can. I swim, cycling, surf, sail, kayak and live as best I can - every day. I have learned that trying my best is the best that I can do and is all I need to do. Trying hard is better than winning without effort. Doing my best and losing is better than winning. A person's true measure is whether he or she tries to do the best always. Today I do my best and let God take care of the rest.
Monday, August 15, 2011
A Prayer for the World
Let the rain come and wash away the ancient grudges, the bitter hatreds held and nurtured over generations. Let the rain wash away the memory of the hurt, the neglect. Then let the sun come out and fill the sky with rainbows. Let the warmth of the sun heal us where ever we are broken. Let it burn away the fog so that we can see each other clearly. So that we can see beyond labels, beyond accents, gender or skin color. Let the warmth and brightness of the sun melt our selfishness. So that we can share the joys and feel the sorrows of our neighbors. And let the light of the sun be so strong that we will see all people as our neighbors. Let the earth, nourished by rain, bring forth flowers to surround us with beauty. And let the mountains teach our hearts to reach upward to heaven. Amen. - Rabbi Harold S. Kushner
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Regret and Redemption
Part of my reason for my Run for GUA Africa campaign - www.runforguaafrica.com - is to do something good after all the mistakes and stupid things I did while I was in the death grip of my alcoholism. The first time I heard Emmanuel Jal's story, I knew he felt bad for the things he was forced to do...but his life has become a testament to redemption and true humility. I don't know what in him was able to emerge to allow such goodness, but here is a sample. Emmanuel Jal wrote in his autobiography of a time when he was punished as a child soldier for leaving his battalion; he was not even 10 years old when he was put in an SPLA prison. Here is an excerpt:
"Do they put jenajesh [child soldiers]in front of the firing squad? I asked the captain sitting beside me. Night had fallen, the other men were asleep, and it was dark in our prison, but I couldn't close my eyes.
"No Jal. They wait until they grow."
I shivered as I sat in the darkness.
I'd been in prison for many weeks now after being taken out of the small hole. My new home was a bigger pit where eighteen men lived, and I had climbed down a ladder into it. The men were dirty and the air was full of the smell of them as they looked at me. Above, I could hear metal scraping along the ground as sheeting was pulled over the entrance.
At first I had felt afraid and kept quiet as I listened to the men talk. One had shot someone, another had slept with a commander’s wife, and three had run away from the battlefield to a refugee camp. All had stories to tell. But while I slowly realize that the men would not hurt me, I knew that I would not escape the dangers of my prison so easily. We were kept in the hole for hour after our – gasping when the sun shone and the metal roof heated up until it burned, or sitting in mud when the rain fell and soaked us. The only time we were allowed out to squat over a hole in the ground, for a lashing, or to do our duties. I had to sweep the camp for hour after hour but was always returned to the hole at the end of the day.
At first I’d tried not to think too much about how long I would be in prison. But as I listened to the other prisoners talk, I understood that some know they would end up in front of a firing squad, and it scared me to think that I might too. I had been whipped and beaten but still refused to admit to stealing, so maybe Commander Jurkuch would want me dead. My head ached heavily as I thought about it. I didn’t know how long I would be here or whether I’d ever be a soldier again.
“Why don’t you tell me a story, Jal?” the captain asked as I sat silently.
He was my friend now that we were in prison together. The captain and I laughed when mud covered us or when another prisoner farted, and then, when the guards tried to silence us, we laughed even harder. Sometimes, just like tonight, we also told each other stories to pass the time.
I turned my head in the blackness and began, “There was once a man who fell in love with a beautiful girl. Bu the man could never meet the girl because she lived in a big compound guarded by lions.
“And so the man would climb trees to sing beautiful songs to the girl and she would come out to listen to his voice. But no matter how often she did, the man was always too scared to climb down from his tree and speak to her because of the lions.
“Day after day he sang, and as the days turned into weeks and months, the man told himself that the had to be brave because the beautiful girl would never want to marry a coward who stayed hidden up a tree. So one day he decided to climb down.
“But as his feet touched the ground, he saw a lion in the distance and he stared running, Soon he was going so fast that his legs flew in the air behind him and his ankles hit his head. As he reached the compound where the girl lived, he was sure his own feet were the lion’s paws touching his back, and with a scream he grabbed them, tripped himself up, and fell onto his belly in the dust, where he fainted in fear.
“Did I kill the lion?” he asked as he woke up.
“What lion?” a voice asked.
“He looked up to see the beautiful girl.
“The lion that chased me to you,” he replied as she smiled at him.
“The lion has gone forever,: she said.
“You see, the beautiful girl knew the man had never been chased by the lion, but she had already fallen in love with him because of his beautiful songs and wanted him to be her husband even though he was a coward.”
I heard a soft laugh in the dark. “Well done, Jal,” the captain said. “It is only in a story that a beautiful girl would fall in love with a coward.”
“Of course, Captain. But it is nice to think that songs can be so powerful.”
__________
War Child by Emmanuel Jal, pp.115-117 .
And the power of the songs written and performed by Emmanuel Jal has transformed my life and given me the strength and the courage to do things that were difficult and almost impossible. The songs of Emmanuel Jal made me believe in myself in my brokenness. So, I run.
"Do they put jenajesh [child soldiers]in front of the firing squad? I asked the captain sitting beside me. Night had fallen, the other men were asleep, and it was dark in our prison, but I couldn't close my eyes.
"No Jal. They wait until they grow."
I shivered as I sat in the darkness.
I'd been in prison for many weeks now after being taken out of the small hole. My new home was a bigger pit where eighteen men lived, and I had climbed down a ladder into it. The men were dirty and the air was full of the smell of them as they looked at me. Above, I could hear metal scraping along the ground as sheeting was pulled over the entrance.
At first I had felt afraid and kept quiet as I listened to the men talk. One had shot someone, another had slept with a commander’s wife, and three had run away from the battlefield to a refugee camp. All had stories to tell. But while I slowly realize that the men would not hurt me, I knew that I would not escape the dangers of my prison so easily. We were kept in the hole for hour after our – gasping when the sun shone and the metal roof heated up until it burned, or sitting in mud when the rain fell and soaked us. The only time we were allowed out to squat over a hole in the ground, for a lashing, or to do our duties. I had to sweep the camp for hour after hour but was always returned to the hole at the end of the day.
At first I’d tried not to think too much about how long I would be in prison. But as I listened to the other prisoners talk, I understood that some know they would end up in front of a firing squad, and it scared me to think that I might too. I had been whipped and beaten but still refused to admit to stealing, so maybe Commander Jurkuch would want me dead. My head ached heavily as I thought about it. I didn’t know how long I would be here or whether I’d ever be a soldier again.
“Why don’t you tell me a story, Jal?” the captain asked as I sat silently.
He was my friend now that we were in prison together. The captain and I laughed when mud covered us or when another prisoner farted, and then, when the guards tried to silence us, we laughed even harder. Sometimes, just like tonight, we also told each other stories to pass the time.
I turned my head in the blackness and began, “There was once a man who fell in love with a beautiful girl. Bu the man could never meet the girl because she lived in a big compound guarded by lions.
“And so the man would climb trees to sing beautiful songs to the girl and she would come out to listen to his voice. But no matter how often she did, the man was always too scared to climb down from his tree and speak to her because of the lions.
“Day after day he sang, and as the days turned into weeks and months, the man told himself that the had to be brave because the beautiful girl would never want to marry a coward who stayed hidden up a tree. So one day he decided to climb down.
“But as his feet touched the ground, he saw a lion in the distance and he stared running, Soon he was going so fast that his legs flew in the air behind him and his ankles hit his head. As he reached the compound where the girl lived, he was sure his own feet were the lion’s paws touching his back, and with a scream he grabbed them, tripped himself up, and fell onto his belly in the dust, where he fainted in fear.
“Did I kill the lion?” he asked as he woke up.
“What lion?” a voice asked.
“He looked up to see the beautiful girl.
“The lion that chased me to you,” he replied as she smiled at him.
“The lion has gone forever,: she said.
“You see, the beautiful girl knew the man had never been chased by the lion, but she had already fallen in love with him because of his beautiful songs and wanted him to be her husband even though he was a coward.”
I heard a soft laugh in the dark. “Well done, Jal,” the captain said. “It is only in a story that a beautiful girl would fall in love with a coward.”
“Of course, Captain. But it is nice to think that songs can be so powerful.”
__________
War Child by Emmanuel Jal, pp.115-117 .
And the power of the songs written and performed by Emmanuel Jal has transformed my life and given me the strength and the courage to do things that were difficult and almost impossible. The songs of Emmanuel Jal made me believe in myself in my brokenness. So, I run.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
11 Hours of Training for RUN FOR GUA AFRICA's 2011
Today, I trained for 11 hours, 26.2 miles eliptical, 10 miles cycling, abs workout, weight workout and meditation and yoga...I could never do this if I were not sober. Today, I take sober risks and support good causes - www.runforguaafrica.com - I live to make a difference.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Life After Deafeat
LIFE AFTER DEFEAT
“I challenge you to make your life a masterpiece. I challenge you to join the ranks of those people who live what they teach, who walk their talk.” – Anthony Robbins
“The purpose of our lives is to give birth to the best which is within us.” – Marianne Williamson
When I returned in Orlando, Florida in April 2008, I had no idea how I would start my life over again. I had been defeated by my own hands and by every other circumstances. My family was all that stood in my way of complete and utter homelessness. It is said that "when you are down to nothing, God is up to something." I pray daily and throughout the day for God's plan for me...and then I go out and just do the best I can. I just do the best I can. I will never be Michael Jordan, Anthony Robbins or Marianne Williamson. I will never be the best lawyer, economist, writer, sailor, runner, addiction counselor, spokesperson for GUA Africa, fund raiser or philanthropist. But maybe, if I try hard, I can do something beyond my own limitations. I can do something good for others and I can make a difference in some people's lives...so can you.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Around the World on A Beach
Early, this morning I went out for a training run on New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Despite the Florida heat, there was a nice breeze off the ocean. It was my first long distance run in barefoot shoes and I felt filled with energy. As I ran in the morning silence, only five or six surfers were in the ocean and only a few people were walking or running the beach. At this early hour, I was full of energy. While I was running, I remembered running in Chicago, New York City, Miami and Michigan. Then, I remembered running in Geneva and Zurich, Switzerland, Paris, Vienna, London and Breda, Netherlands. I felt a part of the world – right sized. People like me often feel better than the world or far worse than the world, but rarely perfectly fitted in the world. When I run, I am neither at front or the end; I am just a guy running for kids in Africa. It’s bliss.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Acting on My Inspiration
Before sobriety, I was full of ideas with no action. Some day I am going to....Today, I act on my inspiration. When I pray and meditate, swim and run I listen to my intuition and I act. Regardless of how absurd my inner callings might seem, they are authentically mine. They do not have to make sense to anyone else. The willingness to listen and act on my inspritaiton, independent of the opinions of others, is essential. From here, I can go forward in each adventure being true to myself.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Run toward your Roar
When I run and listen to Emmanuel Jal’s music, I picture the child soldiers, not more than 10 years old walking from South Sudan to Ethiopia. At night, animals would often attack the children at night – they never felt safe.Thinking of them gives my running a purpose and gives me energy when I feel pain or fear. One of my favorite stories is the story of how lions hunt their prey…When the lions sense a herd of animals, the male lions will crouch down and hide themselves in the bush on one side of the herd.Then the female lions will encircle the herd on the other sides of the herd.Once in place, the male lions will roar!!!! The herd runs in fear of the male lions into the mouths of the female lions.The lesson – Run toward your roar!!! The lesson for me is to face and run toward that which I fear
Monday, August 1, 2011
August - The Month of Brotherly Love
August is my month for Brotherly Love. It is the month of compassion and generosity. It is the month when I focus on helping others. It is the month when I focus on whom I have neglected and whom I need to help. This month my Run for GUA Africa and Emma Academy campaign begins and it is also the month where I carefully review to whom I need to make amends.
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