I really have no words

It feels like my words have left me. I've felt this way since somebody shot up a classroom full of little children. It got worse when somebody shot firefighters. Then my friend passes away. Right after that, I learned my cousin died from an overdose.

Sometimes, life just isn't fair.

Sometimes, when life isn't fair, I lose my words.

Perhaps that is exactly as it should be.

I remember when my daddy died. I was just days from my fifteenth birthday. It seems like the first few days passed in a flurry of numbness. It took time to process.

I guess that is what is happening now. My mind is taking time to process.

I do know that I will get through all of this.

I think I'll go shoe shopping. Will that fix me? Absolutely not. All it will do is change the way I feel for the moment. And today, that's OK. It certainly beats the alternatives.

I'm grateful that the 12 steps work. The miracle is that they work in spite of me. Throughout this exceedingly weird holiday season, I haven't once wanted to get high. If you aren't an addict, you may not understand how miraculous that is.

The holiday season is about religious miracles. I'm not religious, yet I believe in miracles. You see, I am a miracle. I haven't found it necessary to pick up and use in over seven and a half years. And in a holiday season that has been excessively weird, I'll take it. I am the miracle, and for that, I am grateful.

Yes, it has been a month filled with horrors. Yes, I am having trouble processing all of it. Yes, I have lost my words.

I will find my words again, just as I have managed to find gratitude for the miracles that happen in the midst of tragedy.

So, I will leave you with a list of miracles that I am grateful for today.

I am clean. I have a program, and that program works in spite of me, in spite of life.

I have a good life, with a good partner and a sweet little doggie.

I have friends today. True friends. Narcotics Anonymous and The Band Back Together Project have given me friends that touch my heart and feed my spirit.

I have hope today. Hope is a precious thing. It is also communicable. I find hope in my friends; I find hope in complete strangers. I can only pray that someone finds hope in me.

I could go on with this list, but I think you get the picture.

I think the best way to try and restore my spirit after a month of senseless tragedy is going to be to commit a random act of kindness. I think the best way to help someone else find hope is to be the change I wish to see in the world. I think the best way to hold on to the peace, hope, and serenity I have found is to try and give it away, without expectation of recognition or reward.

Will you join me in trying to spread a little hope through a random act of kindness?