things change again

A little correction: it's the secrecy, and the 'unspeakability' that carves the karma in stone. As practitioners, it's true, we will have to jettison hope as well as fear; and arrive at the place where anything can happen. Change or no change; our job is to keep our eyes and hearts open and tell the truth as best we can. So often that begins with-- NO, the first koan.

Hm-- think how shocking if 'Mu' ran: 'Does an addict have Buddha Nature? NO!' I suspect it's meant to kick us in the gut that way-- get our pretty, idiot notions of compassion wiped straight off the board. The Reality at stake is far too vast for that.

Chris is right.

Finally, late last night, Bec and I sat and calmly and persistently talked to DJ and asked him a LOT of questions. We were stubborn and didn't let him get away with any BS. (he is adept at what I think is called "fogging" where a person answers questions in such away that the questionner actually gets so confused by the bizarre answer that they get sidetracked and forget the original question and never get an answer)

Anyway, here is what became clear:

1. He doesn't think he has an alcohol or drug problem and has NO interest in treatment.

2. He doesn't want to change his "homeless" lifestyle, and thus doesn't want or need any help with getting his own place, learning life skills, etc. When Bec I asked him what his plans or ambitions were he said (honestly I think) "probably get my next check (he gets $950 a month in disability!!!!!!!!!!) and go to San Francisco and live in shelters.

So, we told him this morning that Bec will take him on Thursday to get his last stitches out and then drop him off wherever he decides he wants to go. We are going to give him a backpack full of stuff like toiletries, first aid kit, snacks, etc. and a duffel bag full of clothes and then let him go.

He had no comment.

among the many things I am seeing and learning from this episode:

- I actually do seem to think adults who support themselves and their families with their own labor are somehow more worthy than those who don't. More worthy of respect, more worthy of help, etc. And, I'm not really sure if this is something I want to continue. It doesn't feel quite right to me.

I also seem to think that if someone has an addiction that messes up their life so that they can't take care of things, then I can't respect or help them if they continue to participate in their addiction. I'm not sure if this is a good idea either.

this doesn't mean I think we are wrong to get him out of our house (I have no doubt about this) but I also don't think that my attitude about his choices and lifestyle should completely color all my dealings with him. I think he still needs courtesy, respect, and to be communicated with as just another equal human on the earth. Why not?

My hat's off to you, Mike: just these hard, hard circumstances seem to me to constitute the REAL practice of 'meditating in the charnel ground.' And the attitude you describe as "courtesy, respect, and to be communicated with as just another equal human on the earth. Why not?" seems to me to be actual compassion and equanimity, in a way that the technicians out there have not even yet conceived: beyond some momentary subjective state.

This is what I think is worthy of being called 'practice.'

Mike, what I love about reading this chronicle is that you and Bec are in no way engaging in the nefarious practice of "idiot compassion." You decided to allow DJ to stay with you for a short time, with the hopes that he may decide to turn his life around. But if he won't do it, it would be harmful to both DJ and your family to simply enable him by giving him an easy place to crash and never have to face any real consequences for his actions.

As hard as it is to make decisions like this, you are doing a great job. Your decisions are in accord with reality, and are an expression of maturity. Hats off to you, my friend.

-Jackson

Well, the drama just escalated. DJ seemed to be getting more and more resltless all afternoon and evening and was talking more and more and kept trying to justify his behavior to us.

At one point he actually walked up to me and said "hey, do you know of the best cities to stay in if your homeless?"

I reacted quicky with "no no no? why the hell would I know something like that? that is YOUR problem. Figure it out."

As the evening progressed he kept disappearing back into our garage (where we used to have a refergerator full beer) and coming back more and more talkative, aggressive, combatative).

Finally he started to talk about Jesus and how he was in accord with Jesus and that his mother was a "hypocrite." Once that started I lost it because I knew from three years of being around him that he was about to be abusive to her and start acusing her of all kinds of imaginary crimes. I immediately said to him to either apoligize and go back to his futon and be quiet or get out. He tried to keep at it and I really made it clear that I knew he was drunk in violation of our rules and that if he'd just leave us and his mother alone and go back to his "room" It'd be okay.

But, he kept up and so I told him to get out and that if he didn't I'd call the police. This was NOT an idle threat. He left.

His mom is in tears but supports what I did. She appreciates that I stood up for her.

If he comes back, I am calling the police. He is not our problem now.

I went out to the garage just now and all but one of our about 12 Buds is gone. So he must've been going back there all day and chugging them down and hiding the cans somehow.

THANKS to everyone here for your kind and supportive words. It all meant so much, especially at certain key moments.

Much love.

Just an update.

So DJ wandered out into the night on Sunday -- drunk and stoned (we keep finding stashes of empty cans of alcohol all over the back yard and in the garage).

On Monday he called Bec from the behavioral health center asking her for a ride up to Sonora (he basically lives and feels most comfortable living 'homeless" in Sonora) to get his "money card" from his dad's mailbox (long story) and be dropped off somewhere.

This meant that Bec, who had a very bad cold that day, had to work from noon to 8:30, then go pick up DJ and drive him over an hour to Sonora and then come back to Modesto. She got home about 12:30 a.m., exhuasted and emotionally spent.

She was annoyed and didn't want to do the errand but the mother muscle kicked in and she'd rather he was in Sonora with money than wandering Modesto broke with no way to get to his money.

When she picked him up he started to complain about what a hard day he'd had which didn't go over well with Bec (HER day was hard because she actually worked while his day would've been fine if he'd just stayed with us, etc.)

When she finally dropped him off they hugged and he said, "I love you mom."

And that was it. For now.

Update on DJ.

After he was dropped off in Sonora he spent about three weeks up there. He called Bec drunk many times and she didn't pick up or respond to his messages. He went broke pretty quickly and called asking for money, which we refused.

Then, about three weeks ago, when he got paid again, he decided that things would be better for him if he went to Hawaii. He called Bec to ask her to find out about cheap one way flights and to help him get a ticket. She told him that things wouldn't be better in hawaii but she went ahead and searched for flights before realizing that that was just more enabling.

She stopped looking for flights and then the next day found out that DJ's father had driven him to the airport and put him on a one way to Maui.

A couple of days after he got there he showed up at the ranch that Bec co-owns on the Big Island with her x-boyfriend (who still lives there and can't stand DJ). He was dirty, drunk and smelly. The boyfriend drove DJ to the hospital and told him not to come back.

Since then, Bec has been getting calls from Hawaii social workers. Also, DJ has started calling, asking for money to go back to Sonora, because Hawaii isn't so good after all. And, he says, he has to report to jail in Sonora at some point, but he won't say why.

She still won't pick up the phone. He is still in Hawaii as far as we know. But he'll be back.

He's back.

We've known that DJ was back from Hawaii for some time now (how he managed to get back to California from there we have no idea) because she kept getting collect phone calls (that she never accepted) from the jail up in Sonora.

Last night at 11 p.m. (I was asleep through the whole thing) he showed up at our house. He was drunk, and Bec said, probably high on something. He wanted -- a ride back to Sonora, beer, wine, pot, money. She wouldn't let him in and refused all his requests. He said a lot of bizarre things.

At four, when we got up, one of our dogs was missing as well as the blanket that the dog sleeps on. DJ must have gone into our backyard, left the gate open for the dog to escape, and then stole the blanket (which reeks). I drove around the neighborhood and was luckily able to find the dog (he's been my kids' dog as long as they can remember and my son especially would've been devastated if he'd been lost or hit by a car).

After Bec dropped me off at my commuter van, she wrote a note for DJ and put it on the front door because she knew he would return. She basically said that she wouldn't drive him anywhere, she wouldn't give him money, drugs, or alcohol. She said that she didn't want him in or near our house and if he came back and tried to get in that she'd call the police.

By five a.m. the note was gone.

I'm very impressed with Bec's clarity and conviction to stop enabling her son, and very sad for her that she has to do it at all.

Ugh. How difficult. Best wishes to you guys.

That has to be stressful for all of you. I hope for more peaceful times ahead.

I just read this thread for the first time. I had no idea. I have nothing useful to say, I guess, except sorry you are having such a difficult time, and I hope it gets better somehow.

Seeing the sad saga unfold, I see why people pray. Sometimes there's so little else you can do. My heart goes out to you and your family, Mike.

Seeing the sad saga unfold, I see why people pray. Sometimes there's so little else you can do. My heart goes out to you and your family, Mike.

-kategowen

Plus, I think prayer works.

Thanks Kate and everyone else. It's weird, this is all troubling and sad as you can see, but it's not as bad as it must sound. I think the fact that DJ is so stubborn about all this creates an anger that counters the sadness and makes a sort of neutral effect. (And, I'm not his mother or his actual father of course, I can't really imagine how that feels)

Thanks, Chris.

He came back about an hour ago Bec just told me. She didn't answer the door.

I have a feeling he may need to be told "NO" again and again for a while before it sinks in that his mommy is no longer going to do whatever he wants. Plus, he may get really drunk and come back and try to make a scene of some kind because I imagine when it does start to become real he will get very angry.

But, of course I don't really know.

Be safe.

I guess this thread is where I dump stuff that is maybe more personal, less practice.
My cat died last night.
He was only four -- healthy, fat. Yesterday morning he just gave me a look and cried out insistently. And, he wouldn't eat.
I put him outside as I always do in the mornings and went off to work.
Why didn't I take him to the vet right away? I don't know, I've had cats all my life and other than the initial fixing and shots I've always kept them as outdoor cats and have never spent a lot of money on vets. Ever. My cats that have died over the years died from cars or old age mostly, though the last two that died in the house I am in now went suddently, mysteriously, and a bit too young.
So, I don't know, I guess I'm cheap? Doesn't seem right today.
Anyway, he was out all day and didn't eat and by the time I came home at 7 p.m. it took me a while to find him. I'd talked to some people at work and did some internet research and it was clear that he'd either been poisoned on purpose or that he'd accidentaly ingested poison somehow (he was constantly killing and eating rats and mice).
He was in the side yard, looking up at me and trying to cry out. His eyes were clear. He couldn't walk, he wouldn't eat. He did seem to want water, but as soon as he got it he seemed to get uncomfortable. My son and I tried to take care of him. I knew I should just take him to the vet ER but I kept putting it off.
I called Bec and knew that when she came home from work she'd look at the cat and know what to do. By this time I was pretty upset and confused.
When she walked in, she took one look at him, and burst out crying. She told me that the cat was suffering and that we had to get him to the vet immediately to relieve his pain. This woke me up and Drew and I took him out to the car to take him. As we turned the second or third corner on the way Drew said, "I think he is dead, dad." He was in Drew's lap. I pulled over and put him in my lap. His head was limp, his eyes were open. I could detect any breathing or heart beat. We sat there a long time before going back home.

I'm sad to lose this cat. He and I were unusually close. I feel like I let him down, either by not getting him treated and right away so he would live or by not getting him treated right away to lessen his pain.

I think I'll lbe dealing with this for I'm not sure how long.

(I know one thing: if I do get another cat - I will keep it indoors and I will commit to taking care of its health)