Reading is a compelling passion for a portion of the globe. When you flip open a novel and peer at the small feeble font sprawled across the pages in preceise positions, your life pauses. Your background blurs. It mutes any noise from your surroundings and allows you to focus on the intricate characters, exquisite vocabulary, and carefully placed details.

The Google definition defines reading as “a cognitive process that involves decoding symbols to arrive at meaning and receiving information.” While that is their interpretation of the favored verb, I would define it much differently. I would comment that reading is like jumping into another individual's life and going through their life beside them. You experience the same emotions as the characters in the delicate tale.

When a reader scans the thin smooth pages and notices the lovely aroma of the novel, they can instantly appreciate the time and dedication it took for the author to construct such a favored masterpiece. The author attempts to display every sentence in a certain way to impact any readers.

George RR. Martin accurately produces a wonderful quote about this fascinating verb: “A man who reads lives a thousand lives, but a man who never reads only lives one.”

Long-term sobriety requires personal engagement in your recovery:

Engaged recovery requires that you constantly learn new, concrete skills which support long-term sobriety. When I think of concrete skills that support recovery, several things come to mind:

Resilience - This refers to a person’s ability to cope with adversity, or the ability to bounce back from problems and setbacks. You can develop your own resilience by establishing good problem-solving skills, by seeking help and building social support. Fostering a belief that there are things you can do to manage your feelings and cope, and finding positive meaning in trauma, are other strategies for building your resilience.

Delayed gratification - People use chemicals to change the way they feel, so if you learn skills to act on your emotions in healthy ways, including offsetting a need for immediate gratification, you can manage to fulfill your needs through avenues other than chemical use.

Develop a mission or vision statement - Write yourself a paragraph that creates a framework for your sobriety. My mission statement is as follows: “My recovery is the single most important thing in my life. Anything which jeopardizes this is eliminated.”

Developing interests outside of recovery - Getting and staying sober shouldn’t be approached as a chore. You can make it fun and enjoyable. Explore new hobbies, interests, and opportunities for personal growth that are not directly applicable to staying sober. Martial arts, films, reading, exercise, voluntary work, cooking or pets are all viable options that could add color and interest to your life while enhancing your chances of recovery.

Good Sobriety Habits - Develop good habits that support sobriety. Assign yourself time to “work” on your program, whether through meditation, journaling, time with a therapist, or exercise. This is an investment in yourself and your success. Practice mindful awareness that you may not be able to control the outcome of a situation, and continue to practice these skills until you can use them with facility and ease.

Affirmations - Using affirmations can be quite helpful. When you develop affirmations, make sure they’re worded simply, and in the present tense. They should be specific, concrete, and personal to you. Examples: “I attract all of the resources I need for comfortable recovery. I can trust people. I’m safe. I live in the present moment, and worry is a thing of the past.”

Remember, recovery is a dynamic and fluid process, rather than a single event. Be mindful that, throughout your life, you will continue to learn skills to support you as a well-rounded, healthy person. Develop enthusiasm and add good habits to help you build and maintain a rock-solid program of recovery.

Todd has been working in the field of addictions for over 37 years, within the inpatient and outpatient settings, as well as working in the Department of Corrections, the Director of Counseling for a large chemical dependency hospital, to where he's currently employed doing in-home chemical dependency engagement with (mostly) seniors. He is part of an experts forum on chemical dependency, and has a contract gig running the chemical dependency program for a long-term transitional program to support people to overcome homelessness. His sense is that sobriety is a skill and that recovery looks different for everybody

Analogous to a foreigner who sees double vision after imbibing excess drink, (cuz the smoker you are the drinker you get), and being a survivor of alcoholics, I too suffer severely discombobulated myopia courtesy third eye blind after cataract in right eye excised, thus subsequently best for me to remove glasses for good until after the cataract in left eye removed on September twelfth two thousand and twenty four, when weaker prescription for glasses will still be necessary to correct for hindsight, shortsightedness, and astigmatism, an eye condition that occurs when the shape of the cornea, lens, or entire eyeball becomes distorted, which condition can cause blurred vision, discomfort, pain, and even blindness, and if left untreated, astigmatism can lead to permanent visual impairment.

Post surgical follow up treatment involves application of Ofloxacin (Polytrim), Ketorolac, and Prednisolone eye drop protocol four times per day.

Exactly four months

from date the following poem I wrote

president number forty seven,

(and her running mate Tim Walz)

will have validated

that the electorate did vote

for democracy in a tense election

pitting and tumpeting Republican candidate

triggering unprecedented spiked incidence

and popularity of anorexia nervosa and bulimia,

driving sought after expert feedback,

and most effective and efficient techniques

boasting vendors selling out

best size faux index finger

ideal to plunge, (albeit gently)

easing regurgitation courtesy swallowing creosote

down the gullet videre licet deep throat

to trigger gastroesophageal reflux

earning sobriquet (just kidding)

of butt heading G.O.A.T.

Just after the stroke of midnight

in the oasis, where soul asylum

witnesses humanity to wax philosophic

rings in two thousand and twenty five,

when the words to Auld Lang Syne

will echo thru the fall of the house of usher

everlasting peace on earth and good will

toward all (wo)men

immediately punctuating impossible mission

to sanction the French motto

"liberté, égalité, and fraternité"

courtesy one or more

silencer spending bullets

signalling the sound of gunshots

(whew) thankfully sanctifying

Homo sapiens to exercise

their leftist right to bear arms

nearly as strong a yen

being fruitful and multiplying

despite bajillion people

comprising human league

and despite prevalence of violence

unbeknownst and oblivious

to flesh begotten courtesy

seeds of life and white lily

spurring squeals of delight

courtesy freshly minted parents

for the first or umpteenth time

answering the call of the wild

while breaking out in karaoke

the song titled -

Good Morning Starshine,

especially remembering

most poignant experiences

hashtagged, jumpstarted,

and tweeted courtesy

remaining lines issuring forth constitute

the most pregnant events

in my life follows suit.

Hands down fifty four, the most dramatic change I ever needed to make awoke from helping beget the first offspring. An internal paradigm shift reshuffled priorities such that the helpless newborn necessitated immediate attention.

Whatever task held my attention at a given time; the cry of said progeny triggered and quickly trained an obligation to become a first responder of sorts.

Yes, I readily admit that at first blush selflessness grudgingly accepted, but quickly an avid enthusiasm became manifest.

Matter of fact (and much to the surprise to this chap who never served as care taker for infants, nor young children), an instinctual natural protection arose concomitantly with attention, affection, and adoration as the ensuing years tending (to thine eldest daughter and approximately twenty six plus months later another heiress begat), this role of fatherhood entranced, galvanized, and inspired me toward increased selflessness.

The profound raw emotional impact shook my entire corporeal being to experience supreme tenderness, which set me to step up affinity to write poetry seemed a natural modus operandi de jure, which sample seems apropos to share at this juncture.

December 22nd 1996 bundle of edenic joy

twenty seven plus years ago

cap’n Matthew Scott Harris

twittered n burst with ahoy

on account of thine first borne –

unbeknownst to us then if a girl or boy

so an assortment of gender appropriate names –

some brazen others coy

filled pages of our journals videre licet

newly minted parent’s endless employ

though of Semitic ancestry choices

per namesake reflected more ova goy,

which genealogy less significant

than precious progeny healthily fused

vis a vis via twenty-six chromosomes

that did miraculously alloy

into a healthy genetically

whipped miracle – crème of the crop

that only imaginary dragons

reigning over a vampire weeknd

with fiery red hot chili peppered lyrics could drop,

whereby flute tour ring notes

induce crowdsource to hip hop

calisthenics that emulate

swishing NIKE brush strokes of a mop,

which if attempted by myself,

would witness one sic pop

so, he stonily sticks with ranks,

videre licet his literate

ass spur ray shun to confess

those thermostatic and

temperature controlled emotions more or less

extolling occasions that held poignancy,

though as a first time father

my state of managing a newborn

felt chaotic and a sorry mess

though words resonated less with Eden,

she most likely happened

to be oblivious asper YES

mine hand felt hog tied,

yet over ensuing years –

the integration of off Rites aiding spring

did indelibly impress

an invaluable psychic ring,

whereby initial awkward role

no longer on par as a foster child

for her existence,

(albeit demanding at times –

synonymous with any other

infantile pang), thine essence

acquired an acute attentiveness

to her basic needs and wants

likened to pay obeisance

per a special offering,

whose absence as a grown woman

make mine heart grow fond

(and psych doth twinge with nostalgia) asper

those long days journey into night, yet mandatory

to let go of this biological off shoot

part of me in league

to the babyhood pampering she required

cuz, now perhaps

in the near future happiness sprung

from within herself she will bring

now, a mixed bag of emotions wrestle and roil

inside her corporeal being,

I praise and prize accomplishments

spurred by natural borne desires

to become independent

rather than shutter herself up

as exemplified by das papa,

who still writhes, seethes, and orates

many forfeited explorations

of natural self discovery thwarted

renting my psyche asunder

with lightning mailer daemons

still on the prowl and trawling like internet trolls

essentially explaining present years of emotional,

financial, interpersonal and social toil

repercussions forever unfairly

induced upon the darling lass

pronounced upon this then star student,

who suffered sheer agony

when asked by classmates,

when she attended public school

within Lower Merion district

the vocations of me,

an unemployed aging

haired pencil neck geek

or “mother Abby”

which vicarious torture inflict means

to destroy myself,

cuz of this utter embarrassment, misery,

writhing really vociferously

within genetic blend, whose love

not asked for nor sought unequivocally.

DESPITE MY ACTIONS, BEHAVIORS, CHILDISH FOOLISHNES, I WOULD SOONER HARM MYSELF THAN DO ANY FURTHER INJUSTICE TO YE – ME FIRST BORN BABY!

The Idler Wheel Is Wiser than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More than Ropes Will Ever Do. Though coined by Fiona Apple (whose courtesy, fidelity, and integrity this papa pays homage – unbeknownst to said musician), a transformation inadvertently shook awoke compassion made inaccessible from being figuratively hermetically (psychologically) sealed against experiencing the gamut of emotions from childhood’s end until…well…the advent of parenthood.

I resume the thread bare theme tete a tete trajectory bending toward insight, which subsequent introspection to regale thee kith and kin found yours truly agonizingly aware how he impacted upon his then octogenarian widower father and (obviously) still long deceased mother.

Consonant with this vow welled inducement to place the welfare of mine older then youngest heiress before personal ambitions, a rousing revelation tore thru thee now sixty odd shades of gray matter.

An “ah ha” moment gouged deep into the bowels of thine being upon realizing the impact of mine prepubescent, adolescent and thence post-pubescent upon the body, mind and spirit of me father and mother when at a loss to rescue thine self from the maws of maelstroms muckraking the existence of their sole son.

Forgiveness toward self proffered despite the frightful scare the stalwart birth parents endured. Even at the moment of this peroration, this now middle aged man still clueless per the wherefores and why’s, a self destructive mission gripped (as if possessed) to feed the daily beast of Anorexia Nervosa.

Though still reeling from the after shocks and emotional repercussions, the dog send of nine pharmaceutical prescription medications delivers cerebral buoyancy allowing, enabling and providing a lightness of being.

E’er since conception of either prized progeny (more precious that fine spun gold), birth and maturation of both delightful darling daughters, a permanent potent permutation took place within the realm of living strong.

Any call to daddy duty dashed to in double time.

Despite the capacity, manageability, and sustainability for mostly independent heiress, their emotional, mental and physical succor for (atta girl commendable feedback) still sought, and willingly given.

Oft times, a purposelessness finds this cogent, fervent and also indigent (best left for another theme) mister at a loss to keep himself occupied.

This predilection predicated on the freedom peculiarly wrests upon paternal diminution. Now released from once appeared to be an eternal, inescapable, and mercurial “parent trap” suddenly provides good n plenti of capitalone leisure hours to tap into preserved poignant past.

Avast array of trials and tribulations transpired tracking embryonic in utero nascent recollection until tensions eased from this vantage point, whence no projection hinted at thy most prized and treasured vibrant little women, which conclusion begs (as equitable, fair and glorious) to include an ode regaling the younger royal heiress.

Thee apple each of mine (myopic) brown eye,

now twenty five plus year old

ova grown seed partly begot ba this guy

worth more to me than fine spun gold – no lie,

now itches to bend

Oregon nickleback generating fate

to acquire autonomy well nigh,

she matriculated at

Redmond Proficiency Academy and didst up ply

her innate strengths to cultivate a hold

for her called field n rye

ought she be told to maximize

and ride elevator exiting

at floor that fits life – why

embarkation of progeny

most difficult from this popping giver

yet mightiest gift

to proffer upon daughter

from dada who doth dill liver,

I can't x spleen, yet thine psyche doth quiver

thus twas mine own task

to bequeath this priceless off spring

albeit temporarily – cuz Shana

wants to answer that ring

tone of maturation,

an innocent, lovely lass purring

far greater than Purina cat chow –

yes, eventually to find a king

of hearts, now hankering

to do spade work per offering

thru avidity, comity, energy,

generosity, integrity…everything

one could ask for –

cuz Shari Harris – Dunning

ma beloved younger sister

didst exude salient features,

whose aura, charisma, dogma,

harmonica, patina persona

would bring out positive elements

of swiftly tailored Harris styled progeny aching

for womanhood of Shayna Punim (Yiddish)

to break loose

from moorings tied amidst

724 railroad avenue moose

lee a way station,

yet this father missess thee noose

sense that said daughter displayed –

and felt shellshocked, when juiced

yesterday, I held her in a car seat

then makeshift papoose

boot how like greased lightning,

she clamored to leave roost.

I love posting on Prose because it is fun overall. As usual, I have a lot to talk about in my posts. One of the things one could talk about in a post on Prose is the fact that yes, the response is good because there are intelligent people posting smart things.

People seem to be responding in a positive way, and I love to post about whatever comes to my head because that’s what people do here. I recently posted something with a fiction-based theme, and the other one was about a something that I thought was relatable.

And so it’s really fun to post stuff and have people reply from the heart! I am the kind of person who is honest to goodness, and it is nice to get responses of the same kind. Looking forward to posting even more varied stuff, and hoping to see if people will like it.

On the personal front, lots has been going on, with me actually going to being spiritual about Life. I also made a new friend at my church prayer meetings. The person in question is smart, and I like the way they speak. They seem gentle and well-mannered and I think I need more people around me like that. Sometimes it’s nice when you meet new people and even if they are hard to understand at first, they become great friends in the long term because they got to the core of you, and you did the same with them.

And better believe it, fellowshipping with people at church has benefits, you can actually meet a lot of sane people on Sundays. If I had to hang out with the adverse crowd, I probably would have worn myself out too soon. But I have been investing in this whole positive thought thing, and it has been having a greater impetus because I have been asking for help from a higher source.

Sometimes it’s like when you base your life, your thoughts, and even your actions on a sound philosophy, you sow what you reap. It is indeed wonderful when you have been thinking about blessing all day, and the blessing manifests. It’s weird but there is a line that goes like ’He will keep him in perfect peace who trusts in thee’ and better believe it, I am happier by far because of it!

What else can I post about in the morning hour? I am back to posting regularly on Prose. There is someone Divine that I have a crush on, and my thoughts of him, keep me going. The person in question is really sweet, and I love the fact that I have this person in my life since they are such a strong wall of support.

The more I post on Prose, I know there are people who actually read and react. in someway. Sometimes posting from the heart is the thing that people would love to read most because of its sheer honesty. However, I try and post with a social conscience because I am aware that posting about things like Frustration or rage, will not actually benefit anyone.

Sometimes thinking again, about those raw emotion-filled posts might be a wise decision. It is a kind of weird and wonderful thing when you don’t see tumultuous replies because you posted tumultuous content. When you post, knowing that someone is actually reading what you are putting out there, that’s kind of like knowing that with authority comes responsibility.

Hope you guys like my latest posts. and also the updates about my life. I love being here, and sometimes it is thrilling to get the opportunity to write about relevant things because your heart moves you to.

I’ve always believed in the transformative power of kindness, a theme I recently explored in an article for Grice Connect, a local news source I write for. Little did I know, this concept would soon resonate even more deeply after my own experiences during an unforgettable journey abroad.

My partner David, his family, and I embarked on a trip that originally centered around a martial arts seminar in Germany, an amazing opportunity that emerged from their dedicated training. Eager to make the most of our travels, we planned an extension to explore Paris for two days. However, what was meant to be a straightforward itinerary unfolded into a series of unexpected events, each extending our stay and teaching us invaluable lessons about human kindness.

Our adventure into the unknown began with a canceled flight back home due to nationwide airline strikes in Germany, affecting our layover and leaving us stranded in Paris. Then, in a twist that seemed to compound our travel woes, I lost my phone on the Paris metro, causing us to miss our rescheduled flight once again.

Despite the initial panic and frustration, these mishaps became blessings in disguise, revealing the unmatched kindness of Parisians — a strong contrast to the stereotype of rudeness or standoffishness sometimes associated with the city’s residents.

The kindness we encountered in Paris was overwhelming. From locals patiently helping us navigate language barriers to spontaneously drawing maps or offering unsolicited discounts, their warmth and eagerness to assist were heartwarming. Every person we met was incredibly kind, helpful, and warm, excited to share about their love for Paris.

Our interactions weren’t limited to simply seeking directions or tips; they extended into genuine, and sometimes lengthy, conversations on the metro or in cafe lines, where locals were just as curious about us as we were about their lives in the City of Light.

One memorable encounter was with a woman who recounted her travels to America, reflecting on the joys of exploring new places with her children and now grandchildren. Her stories highlighted how travel enriches our appreciation for home, echoing our feelings of discovery and connection.

“Traveling makes us appreciate our homes more,” she shared, her words resonating with our own journey. This spontaneous connection on the metro was a testament to the depth of interaction possible when we open ourselves to the stories of strangers.

I pine after a fictional, sword wielding redhead clad in two piece armor that shows of her Heavenly cleavage and toned body. I scream for the loss of innocence of children I witness daily.

Yet how can I possibly take a stand for something I've lost myself. I pine after the woman in revealing armor. What I wouldn't give for those pre adolescent years when I was so innocent I'd turn away from the lifeguard trying to help me because she was clad in a bikini.

We all those dreams that we dream knowing they'll likely go unrequited like Charlie Brown's crush on the little, red haired girl. I myself have such a dream. I dream of Olympic glory but not for myself. I also do not mean it in an athletic sense.

I dream that one day when the Olympics are held that just the athletes from around the Globe come together the whole world will still stop and be at peace. No bombs, no war, no abuse, or sorrow just everyone coming together in peace just as the athletes do. It's foolish I know. I know peace will be unattainable until the One who made all right in the beginning makes all right once more at the end, still I dream of the Olympic peace spreading like an antibiotic through the world just for a while.

I went for a walk today. It was a pleasant ND 49 degrees. Just like today I can always tell when Fall is around the corner. Maybe it's something passed down through the mist ages of my ancestors who relied upon the Equinoxes and Solstices. The breeze blows a certain way or my skin feels the temp at just the right moment. It's like a woman's fingertips touching my soul.