A Variety of Thoughts About Everything

 I have a bunch of Limiting Beliefs. I acknowledge that this is so. And, over the years, I have embarked on many different paths in order to get past them. The most successful path to date has been the 12 Steps of Recovery as practiced in the fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous. It has had, and continues to have, a profound effect on my life. The other path that I have had great success with is the Landmark Curriculum for Living, which consists of the Landmark Forum a 3 day and one evening course where each day is 13 hours long and the Tuesday evening is about three and a half hours long, a 10 week 3 hours once a week Seminar which is included in the price of the Forum, the Advanced Course which is the three days and a Tuesday evening course, followed by the Self Expression and Leadership Program, which is aout 3 months long with three hours once a week and 1 13 hour Saturday every month. For me the 12 Steps of Narcotics Anonymous was the most valuable of these experiences. It did not an

 When I was seven years old I was mowing the lawn at the place we lived at. Probably a little too small to be doing this with a powered mower. Was a different day. Somewhere along the way I was going down the yard and saw a rock in front of the mower. I stopped and stepped in front of the mower to pick up the rock and toss it out of the way. At the exact moment that my foot went in front of the mower it moved down the hill and chopped a piece out of my big toe on my left foot. I jerked back and screamed loudly. I was very quickly hustled into the car and driven, not to the Emergency Room, to our family Doctors Office. I was told years later that a phone call had been made and they were expecting us. The Doctor, as he examined my toe, was having a conversation with my Mum, and paying much more attention to that than he was my injury. Too this day my left big toe nail grows deformed. My Mum told me years later that he was bitching at her about some bill she owed him. And she did not take

A year before I was born my older brother Graeme was killed in an accident. That death had, and still hs, a profound effect on my family to this day. Other than that I was very lucky. I really had no deaths of people that I knew and cared about for most of my growing up life. However, as I have written recently, the family moved from a tiny little town and school where I knew, at least by face, everyone in the school and where an older Sister and Brother went to that school as well as a younger sister that had just started, to a much bigger town with several different schools and I knew no one in the school that I went to except the younger sister. And we had seperate recesses so did not really see each other. What I did not understand was that I had the death of all of the relationships at the previous school, all the teachers, the school itself, the house we lived in, the school bus drivers, to mourn. And I never did. I never thought of those things as Relationships. So here I am try

My oldest memory is of when I am pretty sure I am not quite a year old yet. In that memory I am in the back seat of a car and 2 voices up front, whom I understand are my Mum and Dad, are fighting bitterly. Of what I have no idea. I cannot remember words. What I can remember is tone and cadence. It was angry with controlled violence in tone. I did not know those words at that time and only knew that this was frightening to me. Thus began my lifelong experience of Fear and Running Away. I have some other memories after that as well that were, mostly, pretty fun. I was, I am told, a pretty happy kid over all. Then, in the Spring of 1967, when I was 3 years and 8 months old, my Mum and Dad brought us from Toronto Ontario, where we had lived since before I was born, down to Straw Hill in Unity NH to my Grandmother's house. A day or so later they left all of us kids there and went back to Toronto to try to save the marriage. I am pretty sure that it was already beyond saving. I did not s