Hi y'all...

              Saturday morning here, now... just a few quiet moments until the grand-daughters get up. Lovely kids... ...

I would expect to discuss medical issues with my sponsor- if I needed clarification- but these issues go beyond this. I believe strongly in seeking medical intervention- when needed. And the sooner the better.

But this morning I am looking at stuff that lies beyond the gambit of science. But not the realm of our Higher Power. However- having said that, in the end we must respond to the promptings of our Hp... to get ahead in our lives.

I asked my mum and she said she did not treat feed me. Her Mil said not to because it would ruin her figure. Our dad was an only child. So I suspect, too that he was not great-fed either

After the second world war the researcher John Bowlby studied children raised under extreme conditions. I observed lack of eye contain, and inability to thrive- for very obvious reasons. Baby need to bond and to make eye contact- to interact with sounds. All those things today we take for granted, mostly.

One thing I always remark on- is that most dads push prams and take their kids out to play too. And take a much more active role in raising kids. When I was a kid this was a no-no for dad's.

Th upshot of no colostrum was that I became unable to digest cow's milk. I had all sorts of trouble right through life- with grumbling tummy, glue ear, sinusitis and migraine. My body just could not break down and process milk.

We lived on a farm and we had unlimited access to milk, cream, and butter. Eventually i became a milkaholic. I was drinking cream by the bottlefull, milk, cheese and yoghurt. I realised that this was wrecking my insides, and everything else, in the end and I stopped.

It has taken me years to work through this issue. 

I know dad had trouble hearing properly. There was no regulation- clearing the passages- sneezing, coughing, and all that other maintenance the body routinely needs. So drinking was a comfort and a refuge for him, I suppose.

Outwardly he was grumpy, frustrated- quick to anger; and also often sullen and non-communicative.

As a kid I learned a really good lesson. Loved the smell of petrol. We had petrol delivered to our farm by the drum. One day my dad was working- pruning and I was sitting on the tractor sniffing petrol. I was four.

I tried to climb up on the pruning platform and fell down drunk. Dad picked me up and looked after me. He might have picked it was the petrol. After that I stayed away from the back of the car- when it was being filled. And stayed clear of the petrol drum.

This inoculated me from drinking really- spirits especially I tough too as poison- since I saw the effects it had on people. And they were still sick the next day. I am not a religious wowser, really- it is just the awful way people used drinking to avoid fun, singing and laughter.

When I stopped drinking milk- is was just the start of my journey- to change the things I could.The last five years I went to a chiropractor. I had to guide him to the places I needed most help with. He was pulling my ear and stuff... and it unblocked. I did not realise that my ears were not hearing properly. I did not have balanced hearing. I could not pick up the nuance and timbre of people's conversations...

...I used to say that I would gatecrash other people's conversations- and hope for the best. Hit and miss- not a good look.

It has taken me a while to adjust- and to enjoy the company of others. I am just so grateful and happy to have rejoined the human race! ...

I went to a physic too. I did some studies- outside of the programme- but realised that I was shallow breathing. As a kid I had suffered from gross neglect- and I believe that I got pneumonia. I recall being sent to the sick room as school to see th health nurse. It was a much different sense of cold that a common cold, or the flu. After waiting ages the nurse did not show up- and I went back to class.

I remember waking up one morning wet and cold- and hoping and praying that it would be a warm day. It was a warm day and I got through it. It if hadn't of been ah guess I would have dropped. And maybe then I would have gotten the help I so desperately needed?

Anyway I started in on breathing exercises... three or four years ago. What happened is that I coughed up heaps and heaps of gunk- for 6 or 8 weeks. I still cough a but up- every day. I can breath feet now. And the big plus is that I lost my death wish. I had had this terrible death wish- most of my life.

Fact is that I was drowning in my own fluids- and just managing to keep my nose above water, really... ...that is how I pictured the situation... and to turned out to be a fact. I was in a church there there were zip-zap healing and stuff. But goodness me- I needed years and years of patient work to rid myself of old stuff-in my head- through regular meetings and sharing. Yes... but also to act on the impulses of the holy spirit- which is how I term my Higher Power.

I used to get really angry- hostile at the lack of potential and stuff- and all the suffering.

I was always really hard to live with. Impossible sometimes. Exactly the same as my dad was.

In my 20's I had access to dope, LSD, heroin and other stuff- but my early lesson taught me that they were dead-end streets. But I did see many suffering people medicating on all sorts of stuff- finding a way through- or trying to.

I was in Alanon before sponsorship became the thing. Each new member would be given time to tell their story, inside the group- if they wanted to. Of course we all learned a lot from the process. There were few, if any instant solutions...  ...

...however I believe we must offer feed-back. I still think of Lois- much like the blue fairy in Pinnochio... sitting back there with her hopes and dreams. I once went to her home and got the CD about her life. I saw the swinging chair on the porch. I saw the LIFE magazine on her chair- with the page opened on the article on Buddhism. I went through Lois and Bill's bedroom and wandered through the grounds of Stepping Stones. I went up to "Wit's End" where The Traditions were written.

I was once a kid with the seat out of his pants and holes in his shoes. I had this "poor me" mentality for years- because I had been poor. But as you can see- I have travelled, and I have lived. We had had a family of three and now they have families. We have two fine grand-daughters sleeping over.

All considered- Indeed to learn to belong, and then to belong, before I could learn to fix myself. In my world I have seen lots of people horribly maimed for life- but then I had to turn and fix what I could- which was me...   ...

...being turned back- time and time again... "first things first"... is a good lesson, well learned...  ...

...thanks for your time- and thanks so much for the opportunity to share.

Ahakoa he iti, he pounamu... [although it is small, it is precious.] This refers to an adornment made out of pounamu, the green jade found in my country.

DavidG.