Compassion Pt. 1: Lessons Learned From My Dog

This is my dog Olivia.  Yes....Olivia.  You are correct; that is totally a human name. I'm not sure how this dog ended up with a human name.  For the record, I wanted to name her Jaws....mostly because I've never had a goldfish of my own to name Jaws.  I also wanted to name our parakeet Jaws.  The greatest irony of it all?  I've never even seen the movie Jaws.  Chew on that for a little while (no pun intended).  

So one may ask, why is it that Olivia has become the foundation for my second ever blog post on a blog focused on overcoming pornography?  This is a fair question to be sure.  You see, this adorable and mildly-confused-looking dog has actually taught me a lot about compassion.  Is it silly to say that I've actually learned things from this lazy-eyed Maltese?  Perhaps.  But I can't help wishing I could be more like the simple-minded Olivia in the way that I view people.  

Say the world's greatest serial killer has broken free of his underground cell in that prison where Bane was born.  He is on the loose and is not afraid to display it.  He wears crazy serial killer clothing, carries gnarly serial killer weapons, and has an eye patch over his left eye.  It could not be more obvious that not only is this guy dangerous, but he should definitely not be trusted (nothing against people with eye patches, unless they are carrying crazy serial killer weapons).  Somehow in the midst of his runnings and killings, he ends up in my humble town in Utah...on my driveway...walking into my house.  

I'm pretty sure we own a gun, but we're not exactly "gun savvy" people.  We should probably learn how to use the thing in case such a terrible situation befalls us.  The best we could do in the meantime  is throw the gun at the guy's head and hope for the best.  And while we are all running away diving out the windows (probably because the family trusted me to throw the gun, but heavens knows my aim is terrible) we hope that our great protector Olivia will save the house.  Alas, Olivia approaches the man who could not be any more dangerous looking...and rolls over so he can rub her belly.  There is zero judgement on her part, particularly if the words "treat" or "walk" leave the man's lips.  She will love pretty much unconditionally.  

We leave Olivia at the house by herself frequently as we are busy with our human duties.  She clearly does not appreciate this neglect to her needs of play and attention.  Yet, everytime we return home, there's no sign of disappointment, anger, or grudge-holding on the part of the dog.  There's only a wagging tail on an eager dog ready to play.  It's almost like nothing "bad" had ever happened to her.  In other words, no matter how we physically look, act, or even smell; no matter if we've accidentally stepped on her tail or had to leave her at home for eight hours, Olivia loves us and is happy to see us.  

So how does this tie in to my story?  I swore to myself that if I were to write a blog on my experiences, it would be a blog of positivity.  I intend to set that trend for myself right now.  I've heard a lot of people say over the last year that they are grateful for their addictions because of the life-changing lessons that they have learned while experiencing recovery.  The difficulty of the addiction itself makes it hard to believe that anybody could ever be grateful for the experiences they have been through.  But I'm at a point in my life and recovery where I'm finally experiencing this gratitude for myself.  I'm seeing changes and life-altering lessons taking place that I may never have seen otherwise.  

Through the self-guilt and frequent arraigning that I put myself through, I've learned to be so much more compassionate to the weaknesses of those around me.  The Lord knows I have no place to judge anybody.  The greatest sinner on the face of this earth has just of good a chance at getting into Heaven as I do as long as he chooses to change.  I'm grateful that the mental barriers of prejudice and disgust are being lifted from my sight and that I'm getting the opportunity to see the struggling souls around me as what they really are--children of God who are fighting everyday to do better.  I recognize how difficult it is to fight those personal demons because I am doing it almost every minute of every day.  I appreciate the toll that it takes on a person, physically, mentally, and emotionally.  We're all fighting the same fight, just in different arenas.  

I'm not yet as compassionate as I'd like to be.  I still have a lot of learning to do.  But I can honestly say I'm grateful for the personal growth I've experienced in that particular aspect of my life because of the recovery process I am working through right now.  I know our weaknesses can faciliate a certain strengthening that would be difficult to obtain through any other mode or method.  And while I don't particularly desire the life of a dog (though the frequent massages, naps, and treats would be nice), I wouldn't mind having the pure, simple love of tiny Olivia.  If we could all learn to treat each other in such an unjudging way, we'd find ourselves in a much better place. 

My name is Spencer.  I am a son of God and a recovering addict who is trying to be more compassionate to others.  And with that, I will soldier on.  

**Disclaimer** I do not condone or support trusting a serial killer just because my dog would.  In fact, you probably just shouldn't do that.  Ok, so my dog analogy wasn't perfect.  Get over it. 

Honesty Heals

I write this, not because it is easy for me, or even because I want to write this.  This is the most terrifying thing I've ever done.  What you will all think of this, I know not. But I follow in the footsteps of brave men and women whom I have had the great privilege of personally knowing--men and women who have not only owned up to their inner demons, but have done so in the blaring light of the public eye.  I have long wished to be as strong as these amazing people.  I hope that sharing my story brings me even a little closer to that goal.  

"Hi.  My name is Spencer.  I am a grateful son of God, and I am a recovering addict from pornography."  I've said that phrase almost once a week for the past eight or nine months.  I'm incredibly grateful for the group of men (whom I would call friends and brothers) in my Wednesday night support group who have listened to my weekly rantings.  It is there that I have found a compassion coming from men who are just as acquainted with hell as I am.  It's comforting to know that I'm not alone.  It's comforting to know that others struggle, and that many are successfully conquering their addiction every day.  If they can do it, surely I can.  

I began attending group willingly and on my own, and pretty much loved it from the moment my first session it began.  I truly can say I've felt Christ's purest love while in a room of some the most broken men I know (myself included).  I've made friends who can relate in ways I that I never thought anybody could relate to me.  Tonight (29 Apr 2014), I will begin attending a second group.  I anticipate a powerful, spiritual surge as I begin attending  two meetings in one week. If anyone who happens to read this would like to attend with me, please let me know. Like me, you will find great strength there.  I also see a therapist frequently, have a willing and loving sponsor, and an amazing family that has stood by me through thick and thin.

So why the blog?  I'm not a blog person.  I hate how dramatic I sound when I write.  Seriously, I don't mean to sound all apocalyptic.  But it just happens!  Anywho, the blog has been a long time coming.  I've tossed around some ideas over the past 6 months, but have scrapped them pretty quick.  But this past month has been another slip into some difficulties after a year of solid (though admittedly slow) progression.  I'm scared by this last month.  In fact, I hate what this last month has done to me.  So it comes to this blog and complete, open disclosure.  We are as sick as our secrets; and if honesty is the healing balm for a sickness long-endured, then let's slather on the honesty.  I will let the world know that I struggle with and that I fight pornography addiction; sometimes I lose, but a lot of the time I win.  I'm tired of the losing parts…it's time for those to go away.  The fight is never so dark that we must give up, though.  I'm learning that everyday of my life.  And so I will move forward.  Sometimes you've just got to put the right in front of the left and soldier on; if that's all you can do, then that's good enough. 

My name is Spencer.  I am a son of God and a recovering addict.  I have about an hour of sobriety and a hope for something better.  And with that, I soldier on.