The God Thing: (A mostly Untortured blog!)

I wrote a beautiful blog about the things my mom taught me and I am tucking it away for now cuz this one seems more pressing. Its about hope. Joy, freedom and oh yes love too. (always love!)

First of all, as most of you who read my stuff or know my music know -I am an addict. I've been gratefully in the 12 step programs for over a decade now. I say gratefully for many reasons, but the one that remains in the forefront today is the spiritual. God. I call it/him/her/me/Higher Power/The Universe/The atoms... God. I was not the kind of person who would have found the huge release and relief of having God in my life through any other channel. Well...I'm not a kid and I hadn't found anything like it up untill 10 years ago thats for sure. I loved the ritual and traditional warmth my mothers church brought me, but God was not there. I read- from self help books to Buddhism teachings -and for me, though God was floating around, he (“he”...a leftover from being brought up Greek Orthodox) wasn't there either. Therapy is excellent and I adore knowing the inner workings of me, me, me (I'm being a bit silly, but it is priceless and helped me immensely. It remains on my list of “tools when needed”) but no God there either.

I was in an Off Broadway show for a few years and in the middle of my run, my cheating husband- who I was very much in love with – and I, exploded. Darkness, violence, disrespect and deep, long, lingering pain and confusion. For me my primary addiction ran amok and this 5 foot 2 wad of wild passion (who was usually about 200 pounds) went steadily up to 278 before the madness stopped. I don't want to write about my addiction here, tho I would love to someday, but I DO want to testify (its Sunday as I type!) that I remain so grateful that it got so bad I was forced to my God thing.

In the days I was in the show and my husband and I were exploding dramatically, some of my fellow thespians (who miraculously kept there collective arms around me) dragged me to AA meetings in the village after the weekend shows. I sat in that crowded room with them- my normal weighted, courageous, brutally honest friends- at about 250 pounds then and ½ listened with tears running down my face. I was, after all, only there because I went where my “babysitters” took me. I was not an addict. Even without really listening and certainly not any where near relating, I was jealous of the God thing and how gigantic it was in those rooms. These were thinking people, political people, gay and straight people, people with foreign accents, hip people, musicians, waiters, construction workers, and my actor pals. They all had the availability of something peaceful, another dimension I only called upon from time to time to hate because he took my mother from me at 18. Or, at present was sobbing pathetically to at “His” feet because I wanted my husband back. Or mostly who I had called upon over the years to shadow box to exhaustion with whenever I could muster up the energy. After all hadn't I yearned daily all my life to be and to have things I was no where near having or being? He was a liar -God- and that was the extent of our relationship since ...well since the bastard let my mother die. No thank you. If I had ever yearned in my life, for love, attention, success, lust, a mother etc... it didn't hold a candle to how I was yearning for that spiritual dimension...even if I barely knew it.

I'm going on and on about me and God because its where hope came from. Any kind of lasting hope for me comes directly through spirit. All the therapy in the world, all the body work, didnt afford me this kind of hope. We are three fold...not just addicts...all of us. With us addicts it is also the 3 prongs of our “disease” that reap the benefits of healing: We are body, we are emotions and thoughts and we are spirit. (I am paraphrasing). I was Unaligned. Hope, joy, the ability to love (and be loved) and without a doubt freedom was here. Here in this missing piece and here in these rooms that made some kind of sense to me. Here, at least, people talked regular and cursed when they wanted to make a point and drank coffee and lit up a cigarette after the meeting outside. This was real shit and if they could not be “drunks” anymore and said things like “God pulled me out of the fucking emotional gutter”...the idea of humbling myself to hear it was in the air. I of course had NO humility at all. I was in pain and that, in its own sick ass way was/is also always about me, me, me. No humility there folks.

SO....I went home and took with me what my friend Susan said one night after that meeting. She said ”Pray”. What? I don't think so. I prayed my ass off from 4-17 and she died anyway. You pray.

“No, really pray, get down on your knees and pray. What have you got to loose, your way isn't working so well” . I thought she meant cuz I was now 260 pounds. But she meant that I had no hope, no joy, no freedom, no love ….no spiritual dimension. Shit...I had no God.

Godlessness....not for me. Under the umbrella of what I now call God is where I want to be.

I'm gonna jump around now and pull it all back under the umbrella in a minute.

I have a dear friend who is in mourning (as am I, only my dad died after a longer life then his sibling and I have a few months jump on the passing of time since dads departure). He is dealing with and processing all the madness that goes with an ungraceful exit, decades of family dysfunction, love, confusion and pain...he's a brilliant man and he's doing exactly what he oughta be doing: Spinning around in intelligence, anger and grief trying to make some sense of it and get it out so he can carry on in his never ending quest for joy, hope, freedom and love. God. It comes under the umbrella of God and like most of us even who know where it comes from, we have no idea when we need it the most where that friggin umbrella is. For me its usually in the bedroom closet, under a pair of black boots I don't even wear anymore, the umbrella itself is black, has a broken spoke (officially called a “stretcher”) and a torn piece of velcro and even tho its half open on the floor of my closet I have a hard time finding it as I barely even acknowledge that its RAINING!!! Thats how far away we are from God when we need it most huh?

I got down on my knees. All 278 pounds of me ..it wasn't easy. And I did what Susan said, I prayed. I didn't know how and I didn't believe in what I was doing. I was, as most addicts are at the end, desperate and momentarily humbled. I prayed: “Make me not hungry anymore. Just take away my goddamn hunger. Physically and otherwise. Why not...if your so friggin perfect and do things for other people, do that for me”. He did. I'm not. Of course this happens one day at a time. :)

But here's what I got that I had NO IDEA I would get: The ability to let that third part of my life take hold. I don't control ANYTHING. What a relief that is when I understand it. (one damn day, one friggin second at a time with that one!) But its all there for the taking. I am healthy, I am normal weighted and kinda good lookin. I can run and work and laugh and ladies and gentlemen I can even sing. Good Lord. And I mean it....GOOD LORD! From here anything and everything is possible: HOPE.

If the man I love doesn't love me and I know God is present...I'm good. I will find the guy who is crazy about me, the one who knows he's worthy of me, or if not, just have fun looking. And that man I love- he'll have his wonderful life too (if he can find his umbrella!). JOY.

I will write songs (oh yeah, about my tortured heart and lost loves and everything..cuz I'm lucky enough to be songwriter and thats what songs are often about!) and try to get folks to hear them and God will do the rest. Either way, I wrote a tune. MORE JOY!

When I am all lined up, a night with excellent food in front of the TV at 7pm for Jeopardy alone in my wonderful apartment -thats God.(My God digs Jeopardy!) Sitting like a lady, crossing my legs (cuz I can) never gets old for me either and is always a reminder that I got that funny little God thing too. (If I'm in spike heel shoes, my silly sneakers with no laces or just looking at my sexy pedicure- it works for me) Whenever I talk to either of my sisters or any of the “kids” in the family, my cousins or a dear friend- yep, God. When I'm with either of my musical “partners” or the boys in the band and there is work and creativity and the ability to make money for it on the table too....GOOD! I call that God.

Of course every second I gotta remind myself to surrender to that notion. Then surrender it again. Just for the record: If I'm some mindless nutjob “surrendering” or just plain old “believing” at this point in my life, who's gonna argue with me? I'm happy. Hopeful, present and free -YOU wanna make something of it? :)

On a personal note and not a piece of all addicts - theres me:

I am a full time yearner and an occasional but professional pity-party thrower....Excuse me...I was a yearner and PPP thrower. Not anymore. I put it down. I metaphorically pour it in a glass over ice (it looks suspiciously like Jack Daniels!) and I put the glass down, cuz I don't drink. Easy enough.

I am grateful and not in charge. THANK YOU GOD. I am hopeful and joyful and free. Of course everything can change in a second but with hope around I might remember that I can get down on my knees and pray WHILE I look for that nasty umbrella! Sometimes I need a friend(S) to remind me there is what I call God. Often I need that. And I am not suggesting you go to church or AA or a Buddhist retreat weekend. I am not equipped to suggest such a thing. I also don't suggest you fall so deep into an addiction you stand to loose your family or or life or some such nearly 300 pound thing before you look around for what I have found. BUT if you are lucky enough to have a reason to need some alignment...I do recommend not passing “go”! You know what I mean.

Heres a byproduct of what I got that still blows my mind...heart...soul...

I love my x husband. He loves me. We have been apart for almost 16 years. We have talked and cried and wished each other well and worked it out to the point where we are in each others lives forever. His excellent wife has invited me to their home with their kids to see my x sister in law when she traveled from Egypt. I had Sunday dinner with them. I am still “in love” with my x husband to a degree and in his way, he is with me too. Nothing has changed except for that I let that “in love” stuff be inactive. My heart somehow completely understands that if I have had the honor of loving someone...especially someone worthy and good...( I did not say perfect, personally I adore flawed and trying )...then I remain honored by always ALWAYS loving you. With my x, its mutual. The God thing I'm tellin you. That I can HONESTLY love like that is kick ass shit in my book. KICK ASS! Who knew? Not me. Letting myself be loved like that in return...well, even thats workin better and better. Again...who knew? :)

Two things some wise folks told me I want to pass on while reminding myself at the same time:

The antibiotic for fear is faith.

If you are afraid (well first of all you cant be all up in your denial shit...just be afraid...and THEN...) find that umbrella and hold it over your damn head!

(I know, I know...its archaic and too simple and fancy, highly intelligent, debate-worthy people read my blog!!! :) )

If it ain't love - its fear.

(Yep, you gotta go one past that rage that had me kickin God in the shins....

thats fear too rock and rollers!)

So, as they say in my “church”.....just for today, I am not yearning for anything. How could I when I have it all and then the possibility to go get even more right?

Ah sweet (momentary perhaps) freedom! I wish it for all of us in abundance. Life is short & today is so, so good!