Almost Paradise – Part XI

We'er knocking on heaven's door

Post Introduction:

When I complete a Substack post, I go to my newsfeeds to search for the next topic of interest. As my readers and subscribers have come to expect, my topics vary widely from business and politics to religion and philosophy. If the topic captures my imagination enough to warrant 1500 words, I develop it into a future post. Recently, I stumbled upon an article talking about the "suicide belt" of the American Rocky Mountains. Specifically, the article described how suicide rates had quadrupled in America's mountain towns. My research on this topic led me to a recent documentary titled, The Paradise Paradox produced by Podium Pictures and Hall of Fame skier Bode Miller. It is available on Amazon Prime for a nominal fee.

As a lifelong, visitor to many of those resort towns in the "suicide belt" and a recovering alcoholic, I relate to the mental health struggles that many in America's resort towns experience. I feel compelled to share my recovery journey, not because it is ever pleasant recounting the low dark crevices of my past, but in the hopes that my story may help someone who is struggling with depression, anxiety or addiction find hope and recovery. My work on this topic will span multiple posts. If you connect with any part of my story, please sign up for a free or paid subscription. Moreover, if my story compels you into further action, consider donating to one of the mountain town organizations working to expand mental health services and stem the tide of suicides.

There is a reason that recovering addicts use the phrase "one day at a time." Because those of us who once fell prey to addictive behavior are extremely susceptible of falling into life's trivialities and superfluities. When life becomes difficult, there are multiple "idols" presented to us to worship. These idols could be anything from sports, celebrity, vanity, or even the misread word of God. When I was in my darkest hole of addiction, alcohol was my idol. It was the thing I served most. I must always remember that, as a recovering addict, I can still fall into the trap of serving idols even though the addictive substance has been removed from my daily life.

For me, I find the idol worship pitfall a greater challenge when life is going well versus when dealing with life's sorrows. For instance, when I lost my father to pancreatic cancer nine years ago, the grief and sorrow I suffered did not trigger a desire to drink in me. In fact, I had tremendous gratitude, gratitude in God for loving me into sobriety when so many others gave up, but also gratitude that my father left this earth holding the hand of a sober son. I was extremely thankful that I did not have to pray at my father's tombstone my confession of finally reaching sobriety after he passed.

No, for me, the challenges of remaining sober in my life come when my life is good. Apparently, having put myself willfully into so many hardships throughout my nearly 60 years of existence, I have become quite good at navigating out of those situations without the desire to drink. But when life is good, children are all happy and healthy, my work is going well, and I feel spiritually grounded, it is in those instances that I feel most susceptible to falling. Because when life is good, my ego and my arrogance tell me that I achieved that state on my own.

Every alcoholic has experienced the feeling of impending doom as a consequence of their drinking and have prayed (pleaded) with God to get them out of their jam. That gut wrenching feeling of driving home with too much to drink and seeing the red lights of the patrol car flashing in the review mirror always produced the following prayer, "dear God, please have those flashing lights meant for someone else and if you get me out of this, I will never touch another drop of alcohol." Of course, regardless of the outcome of that event, I ultimately came to one of two conclusions. If the patrol car passed me by and did indeed pull over another traveler, the first thing I did upon safely arriving at home was to have another drink to calm my nerves, thus rendering God as a chump. If, however, the patrol car was intended for me, it proved to my inebriated soul that prayer was useless. Neither improve my conscious contact with God. That same pattern is still easy for me to follow in sobriety. When my life is challenging, I am far more apt to ask God for guidance than I am to offer him my gratitude when things are going well. Righteous vanity can be my idol in those moments, and I do well by countering that demon by staying grounded in prayer and meditation "one day at a time."

I am in one such “good grace” period as I penned this 11th installment of Almost Paradise. I am reaching a pinnacle in my professional career; my adult children have all purchased homes and are building their own lives and I have achieved a long-awaited level of financial security that is taken me off the "rob Peter to pay Paul" treadmill I put myself on as a result of reaching my rock-bottom 16 years ago. Although I am not yet retired, I am beginning the process of preparing for that eventuality. And like a lot of retirees, especially retirees from Minnesota, that just completed a 58th year of trudging through the frozen landscape six months out of the year, I am contemplating a change of latitude to spend my retirement years.

For the first time since my sobriety, I am now thinking about moving to a new location. As you have followed my story thus far, you know that in my addiction, I was I was searching for that ideal location that would make me happy and remove my desire to drink. It is surreal to be contemplating an idyllic retirement location that would make me happy but without the added pressure of keeping me sober. However, this contemplation does not come without caveats. I must be mindful that I am seeking a relocation for the right reason and not for a mere escape. Grant you, I do wish to escape Minnesota's frozen months and extremely unfriendly tax consequences placed upon anyone who earns a paycheck, or dares to improve their life, but I need to make sure the escape is not motivated by following my number one unchecked idle, vanity. Because like in my drinking years, I still dream of living in a community surrounded by beautiful snowcapped mountains where I could pursue my love of downhill skiing. But I also dream of sun-soaked beaches, where I could wake up each morning to the smell of saltwater and the hopes that that day is not a red dawn morn and that conditions will be favorable for sailing.

Although I am a few years away from making my retirement move, I am ever mindful that wherever fate lands me, that I must appreciate that it is by and through God's grace that I even have the option to make that move. And it is with God that I must remain connected to each day so that I do not allow the complacency of a beautiful location and leisure to transform into idolatry of self. God asks us to honor him by loving our neighbor as we love ourselves and that love is manifested by being of service to others. Keeping this sacred covenant with God is my primary goal as I begin the process of seeking my retirement locale. Ever keeping in mind that there is only one paradise, and it is not for earthly eyes to spy but for eternal souls to occupy. May God guide me to the earthly location He deems I may be of most service.