"Lakeshore"

About two hours' drive northeast of Sacramento is one of the largest freshwater lakes in the country--Lake Tahoe. It sits on the border between California and Nevada, right in the crook of, well, I don't know what else to call it except the California elbow. I'm up here for a few days and am currently sitting on the south shore of the Lake, watching as the sun sinks behind the snow-covered, majestic Sierra-Nevada mountains. My nights are spent in a swanky hotel room in one of the casinos on the Nevada side, thanks to a bellybutton birthday present from a good friend of mine.

((My phone is having some weird hiccup issue as I try to blog. Just pretend you hear me swearing at it every sentence or so.))

I love it up here, and have been many times. The environmental movement is very strong here, and the local activists work overtime to keep the lake as pure as possible. It's a little difficult for the local businesses and pure hell for new developers, but for us liberal hippie types, that's a good thing. I've done some gambling; won a little, lost a lot. I also took some time (as I can't seem to avoid doing) to do some deep thinking.

One of the most difficult things for addicts to overcome is the idea that we're different. I'm talking about the thought that *I* am different. *I'm* not like other addicts. They don't have the problems like what *I* have. They couldn't possibly understand *me*, *my* life, what *I* have been through and all I have to deal with. Aside from the obvious self-centered nature of this thinking, it presents another problem: a barrier is created between ourselves and others. If we don't learn to get over ourselves, then we won't allow ourselves to get the help we need. And then we go back out. And then we die. We have a phrase for it in the rooms: terminally unique.

I know I am not unique, that I suffer from the same disease other addicts and alcoholics suffer from. Maybe I can't relate to being in prison for years, or being homeless, but there are points in my story that others can relate to: my suicide attempts, for example, and the desperate need to not be miserable any longer. I know how to listen for the similarities, and I can talk with others. We can share about our experiences, and I know they understand where I'm coming from and vice versa.

Still, I'm all too aware of the ways I am different, too, and that old feeling of never fitting in can still show up. Loneliness is something I've battled my entire life. It's been present lately. First, it was from contact with the ex's (I don't have a special someone in my life at the moment). Being at the casinos, the feeling of not fitting in has come up as well. I'm not a big gambler, but I know plenty of people in Recovery who are. I'm not saying it's a problem for them, just that they do it and really enjoy it. Me? Not as much, which is why I don't do it very often.

Being at Lake Tahoe, though, there is so much more here than gambling. If you're looking for a party, this is probably not the best spot. What it is a good place for is enjoying some beautiful natural splendor. So after my gambling money ran out, I took a short drive up around the Lake. There are trails, beaches, and historical interest points all around the perimeter. I went to one that I had been to once before--a place I had unfinished business at. It's too long a story and probably not something that needs to be shared at this level anyway, so I'll make it short by saying I've been working on a luck charm to keep on my altar in my bedroom, and the spirits had guided me back to this spot so that I could get some closure and properly bless the items I needed from it. And I will add that after some deep prayer and conversation with my higher power, I felt much better. I'm hopeful the luck charm will be ready to be made up under the full moon next week.

Sometimes I think about this spiritual practice of mine, this bizarre blend of Christianity, Zen Buddhism, native beliefs, and paganism, and am aware how strange it might seem. So what? This is my journey, my path, how I connect with the spiritual realm. Sometimes, I think it's strange how I'm more comfortable communing with nature than dealing with people and the artificial environments they inhabit. How 'bout that?

I am who I am, and as I've recently been reminded, the only mission in life the Infinite All has ever given me is to be who I am as I have been created.