Happy Memorial Day, friends and family!
Before I start, I want to thank all those who've served our country and its freedom, and I want to express my sympathy to all those families that lost loved ones in that process. Today is a day to remember you all, and to remember that our freedoms DO come with a price. Many thanks and prayers to all those affected by war, past, present, and future.
My last post, A Tribute to Dad, was not part of the chronological story I've laid out for this blog. This post will also be a deviation from that story, as I'm dedicating this to the topic of change. Change has always been hard. As someone who comes from a life of using drugs and alcohol to live another day, I know all about change. It was the only way I could possibly stay alive.
The reason I sit here writing about change is because the past year has been all about change - a new job with a new company, a change in my relationship status, and the biggest change of all, only days ago, leaving my home and the only city my sobriety has ever known.
In 2011, about this same time, I made what was, at the time, the biggest move of my life - out of a halfway house, into my sponsor's house (be sure to read the next post about this one). In 2013, I finally found a place I could truly call home. A place I looked forward to getting to. Welcoming. Peaceful. I spent seven years in that home, with more progress, creation and development in my recovery, my family, my career, my charity, and my life, than I ever could have imagined in a lifetime, let alone seven years.
As of May 16th, 2020, I am no longer a resident of that home, or of the city that was home to a Decade of Change in my life. Leaving that home was sad, and will be for awhile. But you see, homes come and go, and can be made anywhere. What can't be, though, are the very specific relationships that I've built in that time.
Leaving Owatonna, the security blanket of my recovery and sanity, was as hard as the process to gain that recovery and sanity. Family, friends, habits, and gatherings are just a few of the most important parts of my life that will not look the same as they once did. Thankfully, this wasn't a quick transition. Many of you who know me, know that I've been staying in the cities for the better part of a couple years, returning on weekends and sometimes during the week.
All that said, there will never be another decade like the decade I've just lived, but there will be more decades. I can't be certain where I'll live, where I'll work, or what I'll be doing in my spare time in ten years, not even in six months. I can be certain it'll be just where I'm supposed to be, and it will be as beautiful as it ever has been. That's how the spiritual life works, so long as I work it to the best of my ability.
What I do know (because we do have to have some plans, right?!?) is that over the next year, I will bring this blog up to the present moment, will begin organizing this life story in the form of a book, and will launch an official start to a speaking business and career.
All these things, and many more, will come together on a very special occasion next spring, one that will be announced in the coming weeks. Stay tuned!!
In closing, as I sit in my new home, I'm reminded of the old cliche.."The only thing constant in life is change." I don't do a lot of cliches, but that one holds a lot of truth in my life. What I know today, more than ever, is that though change is hard and uncomfortable, it's okay. After all the feelings subside, it really is okay. And, more often than not, the changes I fight the most, turn out to be the greatest opportunities of my life.
Today, I'll embrace the change. AND, I'll miss you Owatonna, and all those experiences and relationships that have come with you. My life's work has taken me elsewhere. For now. Until the next time.
Thank you all, past and present, who've been a part of this ride. You know who you are.
Much love to you all,