Hey, right up top before we get into it — August check-ins are due by tomorrow and we need a few more to round out the issue. Remember, anyone who contributes one gets three free months of TSB Sundays (like the one you’re about to read). I’m looking for 250-300 word entries. This is last month’s. EMAIL YOURS HERE: [email protected]

Okay, thanks. Off we go.

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Just to check in: In my Friday morning men’s meeting I secretary, I raised my hand and shared at the sharing-time in a fractured, ominous tone about some of the professional, familial, and spiritual setbacks I’m experiencing, all in under two minutes. “I’m flailing right now.” My voice sounded out of breath. 

All last week, I expressed that thought in multiple formats – at in-person meetings, Zoom meetings, at an early mid-week dinner with friends, during a podcast interview, in couples therapy – and each time the circumstances felt more dire. In fact, just the week before, at the very same men’s meeting, I had an intense panic attack/upset stomach combo that left me no choice but to exit the meeting early. 

None of the attendant new small miseries in my life are all that new, although most of the familial component has to do with my mother and how soon she can be transported from her place in Florida to come live with us, but the exact location of that home is entirely TBD, save that it will most likely be in the Los Angeles are probably within 20 minutes of where we are now. 

As much as I can try to get excited about it—or, Jesus Christ, grateful for it — tricking myself into believing that I will be participating in our family’s next great adventure (her final residence before the afterlife!) There is no denying that it will be difficult; it's just a matter of how much and for how long. I keep trying to see helping my mother get through all of this as service, but the one part of service I’m devoid of right now is the ability to stay loving and kind throughout, and that is what’s bumming me out the most. 

Luckily, I’ve got these rusty old Recovery Tools and a long phone list, and enough good sense to understand that this is all temporary, and that me suffering before any real suffering has begun for myself — or for anyone involved in the next great adventure — is pointless. The one thing that has settled me down was this Kurt Vonnegut quote I pulled out of one of this week’s daily readers this week.

That’s an incredibly simple, borderline psychotic message to find comfort in considering what some of those closest to me have suggested is “too much” or at the minimum “a LOT” happening in my life right now, but then again that is why it’s actually perfect because, seriously, what else is there to do besides experience this life with eyes wide open no matter what sort of birdshit or shattered glass hurtles towards you? 

More inspiring stuff below – but before that, there is more depressing stuff because it’s August and August is my time to dim, baby. It’s paywalled, but worth the price of admission if you find yourself up to your neck in it. Come join us at the bottom.