I am back, and not a moment too soon….

Hello again. To those of you who are still here, and still reading – thank you. For your patience. And for thinking you may still come across something worthwhile. I hope not to let you down, but let’s be honest. I write for the catharsises of writing. And after the last 6 or 7 weeks, I need to write.

Some of you know me on a personal level. Are familiar with my story – in greater detail than I have written here. And I dare say, a couple of you may have been kind of cringing after my last couple of posts. “What the hell is he thinking?”  - or – “Joe, no. You know you can’t be that guy / do those things”.

I had to go through it. I had to re-learn a few truths. I had to re-visit some old behaviours – live in old patterns – experience old hurts – to remember – no, to be reminded. Reminded of the man, and boy, that I used to be. And to know, again, that I never need be that man, or child. Again.

I spent most of my life – and all of my adult life, seeking relationships with women that I could ‘save’, in one way or another. It was being that knight in shining armour that defined me. That provided me with that all important yet never concrete sense of self.

I allowed myself to live that experience again recently. And it was so not necessary. Or, was it? Yes, in truth, I guess it was absolutely necessary. Because it has allowed me to be who, and where, I am right now – or, write now, if you will, heheheh.

As I wrote in my last post, Mona has always had a very special place in my heart. I love her very, very much.

I forgot that, in truth, that is enough. And I tried to do, and be, so much more. I engaged in all of my old, classic using-behaviours. Well, except for actually using. Thank God.

I put myself in a position where I was vulnerable. That in itself is not a bad thing. It is a part of growth. Getting out of our ‘safe-zone’ and taking a chance or two. It actually felt very liberating to experience that vulnerability again. However, I forgot to keep my eyes as open as my heart. And I completely forgot to pay attention to me. And my own sense of self. My peace. My serenity. I went back to the old belief that I need to have that defined for me by another.

I forgot that loving someone need not involve expectations. As a matter of fact, in my opinion, loving someone means not having expectations. Accept them for who they are. And love them unconditionally.
Mona has accomplished quite a lot over the last 6 weeks. And I am very happy – even honoured – to have played a role in those successes.

So, this one is not all about you Mona. (That’s a bit of an inside joke – some of you will get it – others will think they do)

But it is about how very grateful I am to have gone through this often beautiful, always exciting, sometimes shitty experience with you.

I have come through the other side with a renewed understanding of who I am – and a whole raft of those ever-present ‘remember when’s’.

I have come to truly know that I am not only capable of loving another, but that I am also capable of loving myself. I have learned that I am willing to take those chances of the heart. To allow myself to be vulnerable, and in doing so experience some of life’s most precious moments.

And I have come to know that no matter what – regardless of the crap that may be tossed at us, or the moments of anguish that we may find ourselves experiencing – love does not end. It does not die, and it does not stop merely because life changes.

I have an absolutely amazing friend in a beautiful woman named Mona. A woman who is going through some struggles. Changes. Peaks and valleys.

Our friendship has deepened.

I love you Mo.

And I am very happy to be back in touch with me.

Andre M, I wish to thank you so very much for reaching out to me, and asking me to be of assistance to you. For in truth, you helped me more this morning than you could possibly know. Thanks brother.

My name is Joe. I am a very happy man. With a very good life. And more wonderful people in it than I ever thought that I could deserve.

I merely forgot that for a moment.

Thank you for being there for me. And God Bless.

Wow. What a day.

Peace.

Crepes in the Dark

It sometimes still amazes me how much can happen in as little as a week.

Especially when all of the stuff that normally happens in a week, still happens.

This one is all about surprises. The endearing gratitude that comes from realizing the unimaginable. And ‘who’da thunk-it’ moments.

I first met my friend Mona in the early part of 1998. More than 14 years ago. Two seriously screwed up individuals travelling a similar journey through the hell of addiction and all of the chaos that it entails.
And our paths crossed.

We hit it off pretty good from the beginning. A shared sarcastic, generally unflattering view of humanity. An evil laugh. Strength to roll with whatever life tossed at us. An ability to see trouble coming and generally get out of its way. Not always, but…

I was, shall we say, enamoured with Mona from the moment that I met her. I have always been attracted to a strong female personality, and they don’t come any stronger. It didn’t hurt that she was 5’ 9” of blond-ish bombshell either.

So I did what a lot of half-way intelligent men might have done in my position. I made sure not too piss her off, lol. And we became friends. Over time, really close friends. We shared some experiences that would make most of you cringe. But we also shared a lot of laughter. Something not very common in the living-in-the-sewers-of-life that crack addiction actually convinces us is plush and fabulous.

Then, years later, I gave up on ‘the life’. I was not strong enough to do it any more. I was broken and needed help to be put back together. And I was tired enough to ask for help.

My asking for help was, of course, heard by the Ottawa Drug Treatment Court. It was exactly what I needed in order to have a fighting chance. And I began what has become the most incredible life experience that I knew I could never have. Thankfully, I was wrong about what I believed I could, and could not, ever have. Because believe me when I tell you that I most certainly never believed that I could have the life that I now live to the fullest every day.

So, where is all this going, you ask.

Well. Let me tell you.

Mona, as you know, has begun to reach out for help. And I have also written in past blogs that I consider myself very fortunate to be one of the people that Mona has reached out to.

This woman knows that I love her. And she is okay with that. As a matter of fact, I think that suits her just fine. Because Mona has been hurt and lied to and beaten down before, as any of us familiar with the lifestyle have.

 Trusting is difficult.

But Mona trusts me.

And that is pretty darned special.

When Mona needs peace. When Mona needs quiet. When Mona needs safety, she has it here.

We had no plans yesterday. I asked Mona if she wanted to see her mom.

“She lives all the way in the Laurentian’s” said Mona. “It’s too far” said Mona.

What a fantastic day. I have mentioned in the past about how much I enjoy riding in the Laurentian’s. Now couple that with the joy of watching a mothers’ face light up as the daughter that she has not seen in several months walks into her arms. And the look of pure admiration and gratitude that a woman might then send your way in thanks.

It is moments like these that make everything I have ever been through – every shitty situation – every jail cell – every homeless night – all worth while.

No sooner had we walked in the door than I was instructed to take a seat and enjoy some brunch.
Homemade crepes. Strawberries. Molasses and apricot jelly. Deliciously strong coffee.We spent several hours at a beautiful mountain chalet-style home engaged in conversation and laughter.

Enjoy it I did. Every moment. And so did Mona.

Ghislaine and Phillippe, thank you for opening your home and inviting me in.

I will bring Mona back very soon. Those moments are too valuable to miss.

Mona is a little less stressed recently. She is eating well too. If mom’s crepes at 0400 in the morning can be considered eating well.

Yes, I think so too.

I love you Mona. And I am so very proud of you.

So how was your day?

 

Just about everything can be categorized. Quantified. Evaluated and valued.

Placed into one column or another.

Even good news.

I mean, if your dentist tells you that you have no cavities, well, that is good news.

Your 10 year olds’ teacher gives you no reason to regret having kids – good news.

Your 16 year old daughter really did simply miss her period – good news.

The car salesman really was able to swing you a deal – good news.

You got that long awaited – or better yet – unexpected raise at work – good news.

Each of you probably has a different order of importance to these ‘good news’ items.

Then there is that whole other column. You know, the one were we try to imagine the feeling of “you won the 6/49” kind of good news.

When an Oncologist walks into an interview room smiling.

Yeah – that kind of good news.

I went with Susie to see her Oncologist this morning. I am not even the one fighting cancer and yet I was almost crying with joy over ‘good news’.

It seems that this woman whom I stand in awe before – this woman who can cause me to wonder at her incredible fortitude – this woman whom I love – has a big, brightly shining light at the end of her proverbial tunnel.

Some good news is just better than others.

We spent the rest of the day enjoying each others company. Sharing good food. Shopping for the pure pleasure of buying something nice.

Laughing. And both, in our own, unspoken way, being grateful.

……..and that’s not all………

It has been a week of good news.

I stopped in to see my sister on Wednesday. I wanted to drop off a birthday card and gift for my mom, and touch base to get the latest update on the less-than-enjoyable current family situation that I mentioned in my last post.

Well. Wonder of wonders. As easy as that, my parents have decided that the best ‘next step’ is for them to move into an assisted living residence.

Okay. Maybe not quite as easy as that. Maybe a little more along the lines of mom saying something like “I don’t know what you are planning, but I am going – I want this”, and dad realizing that his life-long partner meant what she was saying. So dad decided that he, too, is going to move.

Of course, if I had to guess, I would bet that to hear dad tell it, this was his idea all along.

Yes dad. Of course it was.

You may think that it is wrong, selfish, inappropriate for a son to be happy that his parents are moving into an assisted living residence. I assure you that this is far and away the best outcome. For mom. For dad. For my sister, who has placed her life on hold for the last 3 years to take care of my dad as he has progressively weakened.

It is sad. It is not easy. But it is most definitely for the best. And therefore it’s very own kind of ‘good news’.

And then there is Mona. My dear, fucked up, confused, scared friend Mona.

Mona is doing alright.

She doesn’t believe it yet. There are still too many unknowns. Too many possible bad outcomes. Too many things to fear. Too many reasons to have to count on others. Too possibly be let down.

Too little faith in herself.

But that is changing. Slowly, Mona is stretching.

“I know I have to start taking charge of my life, and soon” were the words written to me in a text this morning.

This, my friends, is what is known as a starting point. On the ‘wheel of change’ this is referred to as the contemplative stage.

It is also the beginnings of faith.

God bless you Mona. I love you hon – and will be there to help – or kick you in the ass – whichever the case may be.

I have been blessed in so many ways. A job that I love, which in truth is like being paid to do service work; a family that, screwed up as it is, is still able to make it through the shitty stuff without trying to tear each others throats out. And friends who are there for me, and who know that I am there for them.

It is an honour for me to know that I can be counted on. By me. And by others.

 

Wow. What a Monday, huh?

Up’s, down’s….and twisties!

 

I purposely stayed off the blog last week. Just to step back for a minute. Collect my thoughts. And decide just how personal and revealing it needs, or should be.

Still haven’t come up with an answer. So…..

Here we go.

I introduced you to my friend Mona the last time that I wrote. Things are pretty shitty for her right now. That is generally a given for us when we are active in our addictions and wanting to change.

It is not easy. As a matter of fact, it is really, really tough. I mean, imagine for a second, if you will, that someone has told you that the only way that your situation is likely to improve is for you to cut ties with virtually everyone who is currently a part of your life.

All of the people that you associate with on a daily basis – gone.

The people that you have convinced yourself are the only one’s who understand you – that you have come to call friends. Family. Lovers.

History.

The people that you KNOW, and that KNOW you – you have to say goodbye.

Could you do it?

Those of us who have spent our lives in the ever-darkening hell of active addiction generally have no choice but to do so. If we are to have even the barest of chances at survival and then growth into a new-found way of life, we must leave our old lives behind.

Separation anxiety, anyone? You’re damned right there is.

And that is where my friend is now. In the purgatory of desperately wanting to change, yet being stuck in the comfort of the familiar.

Having difficulty understanding this idea. Well consider this.

We are generally only afraid of the unknown. Of that which we do not yet understand. It is why the dark frightens most of us. Because we have no idea what lies in wait, with sharpened claws and dripping teeth, to cause us unbearable pain and torment.

Turn on a light – erase the shadows – show us that the path is clear and safe – and we are once again our happy-go-lucky selves, chuckling with bravado at our momentary lack of reason.

Well, my friends, the idea of recovering from a life-long addiction to drugs, and the associated lifestyles that go with it, often is that darkest of dark places. Because a life without drugs; without booze; without criminal behaviours and constant scamming - that is something that, for people like my friend Mona, and myself not so many years ago, is completely unknown. Something that we are not capable of understanding. Something that is very frightening. Precisely because we do not understand it.

Yet.

So my friend Mona is scared.

And that brings us to my current predicament.

You see, I have that understanding now. I have clawed my way from darkness and despair and I know first hand that it is all possible.

There was a time in my life – most of my life, actually – when I knew, just knew in my heart, that I could never have a ‘normal’ life. That I never would have peace. Quiet. Serenity. Happiness.

Everything that I knew, in the most tightly woven fibres of my being, that I could never have, I have since come to know and experience on a daily basis.

Every good thing that every other person had in their life – I now have in mine.

And I really want to help Mona to see this. To feel this. To believe this. To KNOW this.

I want her to trust that everything will be okay.

But my heart is involved here.I really care about this woman. So I have to ask myself – am I able to be selfless. To stay one step removed. To not fall further for her than I already have over the 14 years that we have known each other.

I don’t know.

And that is kind of scary.

I love you Mona. And I will do what I can. That much I can promise.

In other news………………

My dad is not doing well. He was in the hospital again last week. A fractured elbow suffered after yet another fall – this one resulting in him being found unconscious on the floor.

My brothers and sister and I are discussing next steps. It isn’t easy. Or pleasant.

On the up-side of things, though – Susie is doing really well. I mean, aside from the dozens of mosquito bites that she suffered last week, that continue to drive her out of her mind with their itchiness. Aside from that, things are good for Susie. No more fevers. No more unscheduled trips to the emergency room.

Wait a minute. Is a trip to the emergency room ever scheduled? No, I guess not.

Anyway, the point is that she continues to keep her chin held high, to laugh out loud, and to live life as fully as her situation allows. How could I not love this woman?

I am so proud of you Susie. Crazy about you too, but that is my issue, lol.

Finally, I have become the subject of an amateur photographer friend of mine. He has been experimenting with lenses, lighting and content over the past little while, and recently he snapped off a few of me and my bike.

I have to say, I am pretty happy with the results.

 

This picture comes pretty close to capturing the moment. And the magic.

You have to dance with the road – riding her curves – boogying through her twisties – to really get it. But this is pretty darned close.

I will post again next week. Or as the subject matter develops.

Be good to each other. And get out and RIDE!

Love. Life and death.

It has been a week that has left me weak.

A tough, kick-in-the-thigh-to-bring-me-to-my-knee type of week.

On Tuesday afternoon I was given the news that a friend and fellow rider had been killed earlier that morning. A single vehicle accident, he died doing something that he loved -  riding his motorcycle, and I like to believe that he was smiling from ear to ear, enjoying the cool morning air as it whipped past him, right up until the moment that tragedy reared it’s irrevocable head in a moment that cost the world a beautiful soul, that leaves our riding club with tears in our eyes, lumps in our throats, and a- chuckle-of-a-memory at times that we were blessed to share with a wonderful man.

Rest in peace, Swapnil. And find some twisties to show me when I get there brother.

There was to be a memorial of sorts at our weekly meet and greet this evening. I do not know how it went. I was not there.

I could not spend anymore time, or energy, around death today.

I spent all day with two different woman, each engaged in their own very personal battles to stave off that dark shadow.

Two woman whom I am honoured to call friend. Women that I love very, very much. Who each, in their own way, compliment my life in a manner that I could not have imagined possible a few short years ago.

Before i began to understand what it means to truly love another.

I used to think that love was dependant upon reciprocation.
I became free when I learned the truth. That love depends only upon the ability of one individual to connect with another. And I have been blessed with an ability to connect with people. And so, to love.

I have mentioned my friend Susie in a few previous posts. I have written of her current battle with the big ‘C’.

I have told you that I love her.

God I wish that were enough. I wish that the love that I have for this woman was enough to take away her fear.

Enough to bring her solace.

Enough to make everything okay.

But life is not that simple, is it? No. Not by a long shot.

Susie was in emerg twice over the last 5 days. A simple infection – something you or I would not give much thought to, in normal circumstances – poses a threat. And strikes a chord of fear.

I fucking hate this disease. And I know, so don’t you dare tell me to be happy it is not me. The truth is, I would trade places with Susie in less than a heartbeat if I could.

All that I can do, however, is to be there for her.

 And be there I will.

 For that is what love does.

I love you Susie.

I have not mentioned my other friend before today. And in truth I cannot say much yet, as I don’t yet know how much she will be comfortable with me writing about in my blog.

But I can tell you a little of what is going on.

After 30+ years, she has had enough. She cannot go on doing what she has been doing. She wants to change her life.

And she has reached out to me for a helping hand.

If you have never had a person whom you love come to you and ask you for help, then you can not possibly understand what a humbling experience it can be.

All the more so when you consider that at one time we were business partners, of a sort. Co-conspirators in the world of using and selling drugs. In the dealing of death. In the killing of ourselves. Slowly. And painfully.
Without the ability to care. Or to love. And barely even noticing life, all the while darkly wanting it to end.

 Somehow.

I have written about my moment of change. And my friends, I believe that this woman is there. I am excited – and even told her how excited I am – about the possibilities that lay before her.

About the life that she can have.

This is a story that I believe deserves to be told. And that you just may enjoy reading. So over the next few weeks, I am going to introduce you to my friend, this woman that I love. This soul who has reached out for help, and complimented me by asking me to grasp onto her outstretched hand.

For this moment.

I have grasped back. For that is what love does.

And I love you Mona.

I try to count my blessings on a regular basis. To keep me grounded. To keep me here, and now. To help keep me clean and sober.

These two women are blessings in my life. And I thank you God, for these, and all of the blessings in my life.

Good night fellow writers, readers and riders. And God Bless.

Throngs, and Thongs–PD13

 

I have never seen such a gathering of like minded people.

The sheer numbers that made plans, organized schedules, took time off of work, arranged to have bikes shipped overseas, set aside the weekend – all to take part in a one day motorcycle gathering event – is mind boggling.

The fact that over 150,000 people can all gather in one small location – most, if not all, people that can, in one form or another, be referred to as ‘bikers’ – and not have a single confrontation – not one issue, no matter how small – that required the attention of the very well represented various police agencies – is a testament to just how special this event is.

There were almost as many clubs represented by various ‘colors’, or patches, as there were different makes of motorcycle. From the family-oriented leisure riding clubs, like the club that I belong to – the CMC – to the brazenly outside-the-law clubs like the Outlaws, the Hells Angels and others – we all just seemed to be there for one reason, and one reason only. To express our love and appreciation for motorcycles, and the motorcycle riding lifestyle.

Some of the machines on display were pure works of art. Others, lifelong works of blood, sweat and tears. And most simply a representation of our personal expressions of freedom. And that seemed to be the underlying theme of PD13. Be who you are. Ride what you ride. Wear what you wear. We will accept you just as you are.

I think that mainstream society, by and large, could learn a thing or two from a gathering such as I was privileged to be a part of this past weekend.

A group of 10 or 11 of us rode from Ottawa to Brantford – and then Port Dover – together. In formation. Attentive and in sync. Like members of a really close-knit family. We enjoyed each-others company. We watched out for each-other. Ate meals together. And went in our own directions when it was time to do so. All with a smile – a wave – a kind word.

And why wouldn’t we. For as different as we all may be on the surface, deep down we are all the same. People pursuing, and expressing, our passion. Enjoying the freedom to do so, and encouraging the same.

I am proud to be a member of such a wonderful group as the CMC. It is a privilege to call you all my brothers and sisters.

Ride Long – Ride Free – RIDE.

Pictures from PD13 2012 found HERE.

Back in the Saddle Again,….

 

It’s great to be home.

I had 6 days to relax and unwind before starting work again last Tuesday afternoon. I spent most of that time with my friend Susie, attending to doctor’s appointments and just trying to be a friend during her ongoing battle with cancer.

I cannot think of a better way to have spent that time.

I learn so much about strength and perseverance from this woman. I watch her smile, and hear her laugh. And I cannot help but marvel at the way in which she is meeting this foe head-on, giving no quarter at rising to each new challenge.

I love, and honour you my dear.

It is also great to be back at work. I have been telling people that you know that you got what you needed from a vacation when you are excited to return to work. Of course, it helps to love what you do, as I do. Just one more area that I must acknowledge as a blessing in my life.

Of course everyone has wanted to hear a recap of the trip, so I have had numerous opportunities to relive some of those magical moments. I can still feel like I am right there in the middle of it as I show the slide-shows to people. I know that will eventually fade, but I am going to revel in it for as long as it lasts.

I have not yet even begun to work on any of the GoPro video footage from the trip. I will start on that in the next week or so, and hopefully have some footage posted to YouTube by mid-month.

I have a couple of exciting things coming up too. Next Thursday morning I am hopping back into the saddle and riding to Port Dover, Ontario for the Friday 13^th Bike rally.

Link to information found HERE.

There are a bunch of us from the CMC 011 heading down to southern Ontario, as well as many other CMC members from various chapters across Canada. With a population of approximately 6000 residents, this tiny little tourist community virtually bursts at the seams during PD13, as somewhere between 150,000 and 200,000 people are expected to show up, many of whom will cruise into town on their motorcycles. I have never been to PD13 before, so I am quite excited to check it out. The tentative plan is to camp at the ball-diamond / camp-ground, but there is a possibility of a motel stay – which will likely be my preference as I have a feeling that the camp-ground will be the location of a fairly large and well-attended party. Or two.

Which leads me to the other ‘exciting thing’ that is coming up for me. On Thursday, July 19, I am going to celebrate 6 years of being clean and sober. And this time, I am going to celebrate it at a meeting that is held at the homeless shelter where I work, amongst colleagues, friends – and maybe even a couple of people who are interested in change themselves. One never knows. Anyhow, I am pretty excited about this as well.

So I have caught up on some movies. Visited with mom and dad, as well as my older brother and sister. Gone on a couple of short scoots around the area – one of which allowed me an opportunity to assist a stranded rider on the 416. Seems he had checked his oil in his KLR650 before leaving Orleans – and forgot to replace the cap. When I rolled up on him as he was standing beside his bike just south of Brophy Road his pant leg was soaked through from the knee to the ankle with hot oil.

Ouch.

I gave the poor lad a ride back into town – to Goodtime – where he went about making the necessary arrangements to take care of his current dilemma. He was a young lad, and was quite surprised that an older fella on a big, loud cruiser was so willing to help out.

I merely pointed to my Madison (crest) and invited him to check us out, explaining that just about anyone in the CMC 011 would have done the same.

Have you sensed the underlying theme here.

Take a minute. Or an hour. Or even a day. And help a person out. Be a friend, in need, or indeed.

Connect. Be a part of….

I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it is.

I will touch base after Port Dover.

Peace.