Month: November 2014

How often have you unconditionally helped at least three people throughout the course of any given day? This is a question I was asked recently, which led me to begin reflecting at the end of each night on whether I have or haven’t. I’m grateful to say that at least for today I have and even then some.

It began early this morning by having a somewhat lengthy phone conversation with someone in my recovery circles. There had been a few difficulties the previous night between the two of us that had temporarily strained our connection. In all likelihood, my former ego-based, self-centered persona would not have cared much about their feelings nor would I have owned any part in what actually caused the tension. Instead, I practiced the 10^th step during that phone call by owning my side of the street, as well as learning from them how I could improve my communication skills in the future. I also actively listened to their current fears and struggles in life to demonstrate I was there more for them than for myself.

Not too long after that conversation I attended an AA meeting and participated in the topic for the day, which was all about handling one’s sex conduct in recovery. Most people normally shy away from sharing about topics such as this, like I used to. But nowadays I don’t. Given the lengthy addiction history and recovery I have these days with my sex conduct, I took the opportunity to share some of my own experience, strength, and hope with it hoping only to help those who might be still having difficulties in this part of their recovery.

Later that afternoon I met with one of my sponsees where I enjoyed spending about an hour going over their step work. That’s a far cry from how selfish I was back in the day when I rarely looked forward to meeting with any sponsee unless I was attracted to them. Now, I don’t sponsor people I have any sexual allure towards to and with those I do end up sponsoring, it’s solely for my desire to see each of them get well and nothing else.

As the evening set in, I attended a men’s group where I not only chaired the meeting for the entire night, I also helped to facilitate another man’s work on himself in an area he was truly struggling with. In many of these types of past men’s groups I was part of, I usually spent more time focusing on doing my own work than helping with someone else’s.

On my way home from that meeting I continued to help other unconditionally when I received a phone call from a new friend of mine who needed some help with their own sex and love addiction issues. I spent a good half hour doing my best to once again pass on my own experience, strength, and hope in that part of my recovery. And my desire to help others for today didn’t end there either.

Because last but not least, I’m taking my final waking moments of the day to write this entry while it’s fresh in my mind, with the only hope that it too might help another.

So while I definitely surpassed the goal of helping at least three people today unconditionally, tomorrow is brand new opportunity to do it again. I think I’m going to keep practicing this exercise because in the long run, I believe it’s only going to help me become even more selfless and spiritual in life.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson

It’s so easy to take for granted the things we rely so heavily upon every single day of our lives. My question for you is how often are you doing that?

In my case, take for example the use of my hands and fingers. I have two of them with all digits intact, which up until yesterday each were functioning quite well. But after spending over 8 hours outside putting up Christmas decorations with temperatures hovering in the single digits and wind chills in the minus range, that changed entirely. Since then, my right hand has been in incredible pain because of being over utilized while my muscles were in a mostly contracted state due to that freezing cold.

Now my right hand has become a constant reminder of one of those things I’ve relied so heavily upon but frequently took for granted. I really find it ironic how most of us probably depend upon something such as a hand with rarely even appreciating it, until the day comes, like it has for me, when it’s not working the way it normally does.

Now I am having to deal with tasks such as brushing my teeth, washing my body, opening a door handle, typing this article, pushing a plug into an outlet, twisting the top of a jar, or clenching my hand to do just about any action in an overly painful way or choosing not to do them at all. But I’m not upset today as I spiritually reflect on this because it’s given me another invaluable reminder in having greater gratitude. Gratitude for even the simplest of thing I usually rely quite heavily upon, like my right hand, and have taken for granted each and every day of my life.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson

As each festive season begins, I always seem to find myself missing my deceased mother and father, as well as my grandparents. I’m not sure what it is about this time of the year, but I know there are many just like myself, who experience the very same thing, which I call the holiday blues.

While it’s been almost a decade now since my mother passed, and almost two since my father did, what I feel most during this time of the year is actually not any pain because they’re gone. Instead, it’s my longing for some of the warm family get-togethers we had way back then. Although my family was quite dysfunctional with our fair share of drama, the holidays were generally a time of the year where it was noticeably absent.

For Thanksgiving we travelled each year to my grandmother’s home in Glen Cove, NY where we’d spend a few days connecting with my father’s side of the family. Although my sister doesn’t share the same fond memories that I have of these trips, I treasure the recollections that remain in my brain of those few days we experienced once a year. Every morning I got to be greeted there by the delectable smell of freshly baked popovers and homemade oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins. During the day I’d get to play many tournaments of Ping-Pong in the basement with each of my family members. And during the evening, we’d all sit in the parlor playing various card or board games where laughter arose more than not. On Thanksgiving Day itself I’d spend hours watching the Macy’s parade in New York City until the moment arrived to consume the bountiful meal in the ornate dining room. Ironically, my sister still uses to this very day, the very same table where we ate each of those meals. And last but not least my father would take me on an adventure the day after Thanksgiving to a jewelry store nearby that had a bowl of cubic zirconia mixed in with a few real diamonds. Customers would get a single chance to reach in that bowl, and although I never won the real thing, it was still exciting to me, just as much as it was for me when we returned home to Poughkeepsie, when our Christmas decorating would promptly begin.

My father and I began that task outside where we would put up strands of those old large colorful bulbs along the gutters and bushes facing the street, while inside my mother and sister would adorn the house with the rest of the holiday décor. I loved smelling the scented peppermint candles they would place around the house or gaze at the carefully crafted wooden manger set they would display. We all helped to decorate the artificial tree, which consistently dazzled blue, since that was my mother’s favorite color. And nearby it was the louvers to the laundry room that would become the temporary home for the hundred plus holiday cards we received. But my two most favorite items included a candelabrum that when lit, would spin some angels around as each lightly struck some tiny bell, as well as a holiday tree calendar that each of us took turns day-by-day pinning an item on it until December 24th. And ironically, this is the one thing I still proudly display in my own home each year. When that eve before Christmas finally came, it was also a special time in my home because my mother’s side of the family would arrive from Houston, TX just in time to enjoy a Mexican feast that was always extremely delicious. I treasured that dinner as much as I did spending the rest of the night in the family room playing the piano and singing carols with everyone else. I also enjoyed leaving the cookies and milk out for Santa and staring at the base of our tree overflowing with so many presents as I went up to bed. I usually awoke early on Christmas Day as the smells of my mother’s famous egg bake wafted upstairs. When my sister and I were finally allowed to come downstairs, we were allowed to open our stockings, which always had plenty of goodies to eat or play with. The rest of the day consisted of eating a large breakfast, opening presents which would last an hour or more, and then playing with whatever new toys or games I received until our turkey feast was ready. And Christmas Day would end in the same way each year as I scarfed down a large piece of my mother’s famous Grasshopper Pie, which to this day, I’ve never had anyone be able to make it quite like her.

So as I sit here writing about each of these fond holiday recollections, I definitely do feel the holiday blues somewhat because of my missing my family and the good times I had with them during this time of the season. But I’m grateful that I do remember them though because I used to spend this time of the year thinking only of the pain and anger they brought me. I guess that just goes to show how much I’ve actually healed in my life and although I may have some of these holiday blues as I reflect upon all of this, I’m extremely grateful for the new family I’m building. It’s one that includes my partner Chris, as well as a few other loved ones from my life in recovery. With each, I’m creating new happy holiday memories now and it’s through them that I know I’ll be able to overcome any of those holiday blues.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson