A Mental, Spiritual Locale

I thought it appropriate to let the few of you, who bless me with the honor of your time spent reading this humble blog, in on a new place of mine, ergo, state of mind. (ummm, get it?)

It's a little strange, so bear with me, but I consider it to be a personal,  pseudo-corporeal hamlet, encompassing my coveted, yet oh-so elusive ethereal safe place.

This desired safe haven I call Copacettica.

Yes, I gather that most of you have noticed the moniker in my last few posts.

It's a derivation of one of my favorite words in the English language, along with Shit (yes, I be so juvenile), Copacetic (also copasetic; copesetic). 

Copacetic [koh-puh-set-ik]- very satisfactory; OK. When things are going well, they're copacetic. This includes a range of meanings from "just fine" to "excellent". For a brief, albeit ambiguous, history of the word, click here. 

I've been hip to this word for years, having first heard it in the early '90s while working for the Southern Pacific Railroad. Thing is, I choose to employ the term very rarely lest I grow tired of it.

A few weeks ago, while obsessing over one of several distressing complications in my life, I found myself fantasizing the remote possibility of an actual place, or town, where everything is always "good to go". In no more than the blink of an eye, the word Copacettica rolled off of my tongue. The suffix -ica was subconsciously obvious because of America, Africa, Utica, Jamaica, etc.... 

You get the idea.

Once the realization of how cool the word sounded to me I started to toy with the tangibility of such a place. Then it hit me: Copacettica can be, in fact can really ONLY be, where one happens to be at the moment things are perceived as being excellent and/or doggone good to go!

Copacettica is literally EVERYWHERE...YET! (and this is a BIG YET)..., it's NOWHERE AT ALL.

That's where the individual, and his or her spiritual contact with God comes in. If you can triumphantly "let go and let God", then you, my friend, are There.

Now, I don't know about you, but I find that just the very thought of me sauntering the shores of my D. C. (District of Cooper), merely by turning my chaos over to God, very comforting.

Take a moment to let it sink in.

I know
That I'll be good to go, 
By quashing my desire 
To run the show.

I have to be willing to relinquish control. Wait...that doesn't really make any sense being that my perception of control, or the very idea that I'm in charge, is really just an illusion. The more I attempt to impose my will upon the world to do my bidding, the more fear, disappointment and resentment I'm going to bear.

And any drunk that has been around awhile can surely attest to the destructive nature of just a single resentment. When we harbor resentment, we drink again....

But with the alcoholic, whose hope is the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this business of resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when harboring such feeling we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit. The insanity of alcohol returns and we drink again. And with us, to drink is to die. pg. 66

I hope this writing doesn't come off as an indicator that I'm ready for the Padded Palace. As silly as it may be, this process of "placing" myself in a state of surrender is much more preferable than the alternative. The obsession is gone and the physical craving a dim memory.

I wish I could say that my visits to my private burg are frequent and extended, but they are not. I still battle, internally, with letting go and letting God. It isn't a faith or trust issue, but seems to be that tiresome issue of ego. There are specific concerns in my life that seem to incite the innate process of "righting that what is wrong", and the recipients of the aforementioned intractable tendencies are my daughter and my wife.

I just can't help it. 

But as I keep saying, it is getting better. It is getting easier to turn it over completely. 

But, as of right now? I am definitely within the walls of Copacettica.

Lets make 'em laugh today-

coop

Quest for Copacettica

Are we there yet?

No, Not really. This trip started roughly 40 years ago and I'm happy to report that I'm still above ground. Everything that has transpired over the course of this expedition can be visualized in a linear fashion... ummm, kinda.

Every preceding thoroughfare led me to, and prepared me for each ensuing change of direction. (I might think of a different way of stating the preceding sentence).

Does it ever end? I'm not referring to my existence, or the end of the road. But, it seems like there hasn't been a decent rest stop in quite sometime. I've always been under the impression that as we get older, there are supposed to be more and more moments of coasting. At least, when I was younger, that's how my elders always appeared to me.

Like life was getting easier. HA!

I realize now that that is the amount of "attained wisdom" I see on their faces. It's the "knowing that you don't really know" that always set them apart. The elders have stopped fighting it and just reclassified each following event, yet continue to learn from it.

I'm still learning about "not knowing".

I'm a hell of a map reader. I love charting courses to new lands, new locations. But there's always a damn detour, ain't there? Traffic, road construction, etc.... Things that my highlighted pathway doesn't expose.

Becoming a parent was always a "highlighted" journey for me. I love being a Dad. A Father. (I just love the way that sounds). Being a Dad is by far the most wonderful part of my trip. BUT....

It has also been the most horrible part of my trip. I never could have imagined what being a Dad was going to be like. Oh, sure, I had an IDEA of how it might be...could be. But, I was just a tad bit off in my pre-visualization of the Parent Factor,  for lack of a better term.

There have been moments of pure joy and happiness. And there have been moments of complete terror that I was going to drop dead. Shit, at one time, all of my brothers and sisters at my home group thought I was dying of cancer because I was so emaciated. Caused by the constant fear and worry I put upon myself concerning my offspring.

please note that I didn't say, "my child put upon me". All of my fears and worry were all caused by me. But, naturally, I was, and still am, worried about my child. 

When you pick up your daughter, in the middle of the night, at her drug dealers (boyfriend's) house (he kicked her out), and see all of the track marks on your baby's arm, you tend to get a little worried. And, I'm proud to say, I didn't kill anyone. Of course I wanted to storm the house and break the little fucker's neck, and then rip off his arms and beat the shit out of him with them. But, I didn't.

I just told my baby how much I love her, and that everything is going to be alright. The things a Dad is supposed to do. Going to jail for Expedited Pre-Meditated MURDER wouldn't help her at all.

She needs me. I'm going to be there for her.

You see, it's been the purpose of my journey thus far. I am prepared emotionally, mentally and spiritually to guide her through all of this. Without the life I've had this far, I wouldn't have a clue as to what to do for her.

I'd say that's sound justification for my sobriety today, wouldn't you?

It was obviously meant to be-

Here's to tolerating others today,

coop

Greetings from Copacettica

Well, I wish I had a glorious tale to submit about the wonderful world of Sobriety, and just how well things are going since I've been sober. I admit, I have been blessed in Sobriety, namely, with a whole new perspective on life. The mere fact that I am still alive and living a new life is blessing enough.

I don't want this to be yet another boring, tired diatribe anent my depressing, ongoing familial tribulations. I'm beginning to feel that to continue to discuss these matters, I am doing more harm than good, personally. (It has taken about two hours to figure out how to phrase the last 2 sentences...I still don't get it). I mean, who in the hell am I helping if I just vent about my kid for the next year, right? Do YOU really want to hear all of the emotional BS involved?

I don't think so.

I guess the point should be that I have been able to maintain a solid, spiritual grasp on my sobriety throughout this ordeal. I used to run like a fearful, terrified child from the prospect of coping with any kind of real-life drama. Change was another trigger that fueled my fear, necessitating the intake of mind altering substances.

Alcohol, for this alcoholic, was simply a coping mechanism that developed into an addiction, that developed into a way of life, that developed into a mental obsession and a physical craving that became my means to an end. Or, a means attempting to avoid an end. But, that end came several times over the course of my drinking career.

Many relationships came to an end.
Many friendships came to an end.
There were many jobs lost and opportunities missed.
And, there was that bleak week in January of 2006, in an Econo Lodge in MS in which I tried to end it, literally.

I no longer want to "end it". While life may still continue to offer me an occasional Shit Sandwich, today I am just grateful that I'm alive and able to eat it.

How's that for a former angry, misanthropic asshole? (Ummm, okay, one out of three? I'm no longer angry)

It was all made possible by trusting God, cleaning house and helping others. Oh, and I also had to stop swimming in that Petticoat Junction water tower full of booze.

I may not always make the right decision nor do I always say the right things. But, at least I'm in a sober, sound state of mind and can at least try to make a decision, rather than scurry away and veil my inadequacies with alcohol. Capisce?

More later from Copacettica