Author: TheDon McCoy

He poured himself a bourbon. The amber liquid seemed to dance in the light of the retreating afternoon sun. The aroma of vanilla and spice played with his nose. Marcus lifted the glass and took a small sip. The warmth washed into his mouth and seconds later, throughout his body. He loved that first sip. Marcus looked out the window of his apartment at the orange and red glow of the clouds and the sun. Above the sky was darkening blues. It would be the evening in a matter of minutes. Marcus let out a small sigh.

His day did not go too well. The body aches and fatigue were constant acquaintances these days. After dealing with the arguments and misunderstandings at work he needed something to ease into and just relax. He looked at the glass. That wasn’t working tonight. Marcus put the glass down and sat on the couch grabbing the TV remote. He stopped before turning on the television.  It was the same thing. The rut he had created so many years ago had become too comfortable.

Marcus got up and stood very still in his living room. He remembered his teacher’s words. ‘when the world seems to be carrying you on a meaningless journey, stop. Stand still but just for a moment. Begin to feel the space around you. Feel your place at this very moment. Then, when you feel the weight of the moment and place you are currently in, take a small step backward.’ When he first heard it Marcus didn’t understand the meaning of the practice. Today he did and taking a step backward, he felt the change inside of him. Everything opened up in that moment.

His paintings and drawing material seemed to call to him. His need to create and explore awoke. It was just a step. But when putting meaning and faith in the movement, Marcus felt it work. At this moment the couch didn’t look very comfortable.

Uncle Jack asked if I wanted to go downtown with him. I was still a few years away from my teen years and going downtown with him was always fun. I remember that he always had to dress to go out. No jeans or T-shirts, no sneakers or sandals. And definitely, no gym clothes. Uncle Jack always dressed smart, as they said back in the day. Dress slacks, a button shirt (sometimes a tie) and always a sport-coat and a hat. It was a different time. It was a time when people took pride in how they looked and how they held themselves in society.

It feels as if the world has gotten too crowded today. People have resorted to crawling into an imaginary box just large enough to reach that apple from the bin at the supermarket. Was it because we were socially isolated back then from the instant gratification of a cell phone and Facebook? I remember when I spent an entire day without knowing what my neighbors were up to or which political leader pissed off another.

If you watch people walking down the street (or even driving), their gaze is only a few feet ahead. In the case of driving, their focus is only what is directly in front of them (or their phone…). I think with all of the instant media and information, we lost an important part of our humanness, the ability of awareness of our surroundings and those around us. What has become important is the immediate moment, the next (presidential?) tweet, the constantly running Instagram or Facebook saga.

I offer a challenge to everyone reading. One day when you leave your house to go shopping or dare I say, go to work, leave your cell phone at home. Spend those few hours unhinged from the immediate information world so you can witness the immediate real world around you.  It will be harder than you think.  Just take a deep breath, breathe out slowly and open your eyes to more than the three feet in front of you.

It appears that you are stuck.

You have said on several occasions that your life is not going the way you want. You say you’re stifled in the life you have created. What I see is that your creativity and passion have taken a back seat to the domestic day-to-day adventure you find yourself in. When was the last time you felt complete and whole when you felt like you were expressing your true self?

I can see the poems laying dormant behind your eyes. I can see the fire that once lit you passions turning to a whisper of a flame. Where did it all change? Where did you exchange your love and passion for mediocrity and the elusive domestic bliss? From where I sit I see you turning into yourself like a hermit crab retreating into its shell. So, I have four simple questions for you.

One: Can you describe the passion you have still burning within you?

Two: What would it take for you to return back to your free and creative self, where you felt joy and companionship from the world?

Three: Do you really want to?

Four: if yes, are you willing to take a chance and step out of the forest you have wandered into and find that road you originally were on?

There is a map that can help you to your road.

1. Awaken your conscious by starting a journal and creating a blog. This is effective in taking you out of your own head by putting your thoughts and feelings onto paper (or screen), thus bringing a separate life to them outside of your head.
2. Identify your thoughts from the thoughts of others. For many people life is usually easy coast through when you’re on autopilot; we are given a rudimentary road map for how life is supposed to work.  We begin by going to school, then graduate and get a job, followed by getting married and having 2.5 children. The American Dream. For many, this is good enough. but it doesn’t allow room for you and your expressions that are now dormant under a basket of dirty clothes and a sink of dishes. So sit down with yourself. And create a timeline from when you were a child until this very moment. Be honest with yourself. At the end of your timeline, identify a few beliefs that aren’t based on your own logic, but are based on what you’ve been told.  Now, how have they impacted you?

   Feel free to think more basic. Do you actually agree with your parents’ or your spouse’s political or religious affiliations? Is having a career really the most important thing to you?  If the answer is no, great! There is absolutely no problem with not molding yourself to others’ definition of life, if they fit the true self you see in the mirror, then you are good. Now all you have to do is unlearn and then relearn the beliefs you have called to question. Only this time, relearn based on what your heart says to you.

3. Organize your life. You may find that having your external world in order will help expedite further the process of rebuilding your identity. So clean your house. Do your work before it is due. Resolve any personal conflicts with friends. Be honest and caring in your conversations, this, after all, is the foundation for friendship. With everything external organized and sorted out, this will open up your availability to focus on your deeper self.
4. Rely on yourself. Confidence is at the heart of finding your true self. If you don’t have a strong sense of self-worth, you will listen to what others have to say and be swayed by their beliefs on what is right and popular. Learn to begin to believe in yourself and trust your own thoughts feelings. Remember, be patient with yourself, be kind with yourself and be confident in your abilities. Growth will come with time and honest effort.

   Trust your own judgment and decision-making processes, with all its mistakes. We all make mistakes, but through our errors, we find growth, learning, and we begin to find our true selves. Start taking responsibility for your budgeting, household matters, and planning about yours and your family’s  future. Things don’t always get sorted out by themselves. Take responsibility and find that road you once walked with self-reliance and self-determination, and no longer be influenced by the winds of fate.

5. Find Alone Time. Give yourself some time and space to get away from the external world with all of its complications, noises, and demands. Take some time to go for a long walk and think. Plant yourself on a park bench and look, this is the essence of practicing Mindfulness. Whatever you do, remove anything that distracts you from contemplating your life and where you want the road to take you.
6. Find your passion. What was it that drove you all those years ago? Does it move you even today? Search deep for what really moves you and what you truly want to be involved in. We are not entirely solitary creatures. We crave community and purpose within that community. Through your journal and in your meditation, find what you want to foster on your journey down your road.

It had been too long since I’d last had a fire. And I’m not talking about grilling some steaks on the ol’ Webber. I’m talking about a real, feel the heat penetrate deep in your soul fire, lots of big pieces of wood fire, the kind of fire that the neighbors might call the fire department for!
And the next morning putting on that favorite worn and totally comfortable T-shirt you get that unmistakable smell of wood-smoke that floods in the memories of the night before.
I don’t think I washed that shirt yet.
After watching movies like The Revenant Legends of the Fall I found that I was missing that part of being a man. Of that rugged youth and adventure, I had experienced years ago when living in Maine.
Bonfires on the beach at Little Cranberry Island, running like the wind across large boulders and rocks at the Coast Guard Station and drinking up the friendship and camaraderie of fellow fire watchers as the alcohol and weed permeated our minds and happiness permeated our hearts.
My soul had filled back them with these seemingly insignificant events. It is the simplicity of being outdoors with like-minded individuals. The sharing of a moment in time that is so primitive and so ingrained in our soul, a sense of well-being and a sense of worth and purpose can only emerge days and weeks later.
I look back at those times when my soul was nourished. I look back at the moments when being alive had a definite feeling, a feeling of worthwhile membership in life.
I sit here today with a bourbon chilling on the coffee table. A laptop open next to me with my one main way of checking in with friends, FACEBOOK.
There are no more bonfires. Friendships are merely a comment here a smiley face there. We have become too busy trying to figure out how to get through the year without remortgaging the house.
Remember how simple it all still can be?
I can put on my headphones, lose myself in some Beethoven. Drift into a deep slumber with the sounds of the master in my ears.
Recently I dusted off an old leather-bound journal and after reading my thoughts and dreams of my past bonfires. I began writing down my may-be futures, my dreams of where the last third of my life will be spent. And what will my daughters think of all these miscellaneous ramblings?
And I can engage in real conversations. We spend a great deal of time in nonchalant banter with those we meet. Even those we work with. When I’m at the store and waiting as the sales clerk rings up my good, I begin to talk with them, call the person with the silly vest on by name. I start a short and engaging conversation. Life is about stories, we all have them. We all have had bonfires of our past and those stories remain hidden within until someone takes the time to ask and talk.
And, unplug everything. Take a long walk with your best friend. Don’t fear the silence nor the deepness of the conversation.
AND FINALLY, one evening, when the air has a chill to it. Invite a few friends over. Break out that bottle of bourbon (or hot cider) and build a bonfire.
Life has become complicated, but we can take back the simplicity and continue to create those memories.
Don McCoy
Reprinted from: 22 November 2016

I attended a very special car meet this past Saturday. I’ve been to other car meets before, but this one has always been entirely different. Roughly 200 people attended the 20^th annual Joe Pearlstein Memorial Fall Foliage Run (as it was called in the early years.) The car is the Toyota MR2 sports car. Many years ago a gentleman named Joe Pearlstein decided to meet up with a few friends during a crisp autumn day to drive around the area of Bear Mountain to revel in the beauty of the season and take pictures.

Sadly Joe passed away from cancer after starting this little tradition. Only today, it is not so little. I have been attending The annual Joe Pearlstein Memorial Drive, as it is called now since 2009. At that time there were roughly over 100 cars in attendance. The day starts out as everyone arrives at the Sheraton hotel in Mahwah New Jersey in the morning.  Enthusiasts from all over the northeast and many from further arrive bright and early. many arrive the night before. Many of us had not seen each other since the last meet one year past.

But it feels like yesterday when we meet up again. Old friends hug and chat in front of their cars. Others that meet for the first time create new friendships that often last for years. The day consists of a drive on back roads around the area with a stop at a mall parking lot to have lunch, admire the cars and enjoy the happiness and connection this event creates.

After a drive up to Bear Mountain, we meet back at the Super 8 hotel in Mahwah.  This evening festivity, affectionately called ‘The Beer Mountain After-Party’ was created by a marvelous Canadian with a big heart and exceeding happiness for all.  I am always in awe of the happiness and sense of brotherhood (and sisterhood!) at these events. In a time where we are facing racism, hatred and political separation in our country, this moment in time shines a light that we as people of many races and beliefs can come together and enjoy each other’s company with happiness and joy that flows so easily for everyone there.

In its small way, this yearly event shows me there is hope for our country to move past the religious and political hatred that is so often advertised on television today, to a better understanding and acceptance for everyone.

I sat in the day room of the homeless shelter for teens in Bangor Maine watching all the kids in their activities. Some were playing Nintendo, some watching MTV and some actually reading a book! A couple of kids came to sit on the couch with me. We began talking. They were interested in why I chose to work in my field and if I had any children. Both I answered honestly.

I had an idea. I had watched the Disney movie Aladdin with my daughter the weekend before. The whole concept of a genie and three wishes made me think. What would be the answers of the kids at the shelter? It was a mini experiment in the making! I spoke to the counselors at the shelter about the idea and they thought it was a good idea and wanted to hear the results.

So, here I was with two kids sitting next to me and I was engaged in conversation with. Perfect. I posed the question to the two of them. Both gave me the same answer for the first wish, and it broke my heart. “I wish that my mom/dad would love me and let me back home again.” Other kids came over and soon everyone wanted to be part of this ‘experiment.’

All these kids were looking for was love. The first love we need, from our parents! All of the kids that day at the shelter were thrown out of the house for one specific reason. They did not get along with the mom/or dad’s new partner. After many years of talking with these kids, and meeting many of their parents, I understood a sad fact. Some parents divorced and the parent with custody begin a new relationship. Sometimes the relationship works well and the new partner accepts the kid(s) and life is good.

But sometimes, the partner has an idea that having the person to him or herself and having the kid out of the way is ideal. Many of these parents are craving attention and love from another ‘adult’ person and faced with the loss of that person in their life, will choose them over their own children. Many of the stories I had heard after asking the ‘Genie’ question were heartbreaking. I could write an entire book on these stories. I cherish the stories I have heard and will remember many of them for the rest of my life.

The girl sat next to me watching MTV. We had a few conversations in the past few days, but nothing of real substance. She was 14 years old and sitting on a couch with a middle aged man in a homeless shelter. She turned to me, her large blue eyes focused on my every word. “I think about my mom often these days.” She said with a little hitch in her voice. We talked for a few hours while music videos played in the background. A thought hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was only a few years into my Bachelor’s degree in Human Services and still learning how to be an effective counselor. I had been hired to work at a homeless shelter for teens in Bangor Maine. The job was, as my director described, like flying an airplane. Hours of endless boredom interspersed with moments of sheer terror. This moment was neither boring nor terrifying. Now, back to that moment of enlightenment.

As she talked I realized that this moment, this very moment would possibly be carried with her for her entire life. It all depended on how much attention I paid to her, to her words and to what I witnessed behind her eyes. I was once told by a very wise older friend that we have one moment in each day where we can change the world. I had thought of this statement for quite a while before its simplicity was revealed.

One moment of conversation, one simple smile or hello may offer a moment of brightness to someone’s day. That could possibly be sent forward to another person and a snowball effect may ensue. The best part of this is it is free. The conversation we had was deep and moving. She had tears while talking about why she ended up sitting next to me. I offered words of hope and encouragement and learned a lot about whom this young girl was and what she hoped to be. It is one of the conversations that I will never forget.

Charles found himself standing at the foot of a staircase in an old house. The banister was dark polished oak and the stairs were carpeted with an oriental patterned rug. At the top, he could see an impeccably dressed dark-skinned man in a dark blue suit with a red silk tie. He was standing in front of a red rope attached to two short poles, barring the entrance to the room at the top, like at a theater. The door to the room was partially open and he could see a bright light beyond it, but not much more. A woman was walking up the stairs. Upon meeting the man at the top, she and the man spoke a short while and he unhooked the rope and allowed her to pass.

He took the first step up the staircase looking at that open door. The man at the top looked down at him unsmiling. At Charles reached the top his nervousness was at its peak. With hands sweating and his throat dry, he managed a whispered a hello to the man. The man returned a smile and a offered a deep hello. He said his name was Peter. Charles asked him if he could pass through the door. Peter gave him a soulful look and shook his head. “No, Charles, you cannot.”

“But, I was a good person in life.” Charles began to plead. “I went to church every Sunday. I had good friends and had an important and influential job for most of my life. I don’t understand. What was the difference between me and the person before me?” He asked. “Well,” Peter explained. “It is not what you have amassed in life, or the station one attains in society. It isn’t the size of a person’s house or the value of their possessions Charles. I have watched you throughout your life. Yours was a selfish life. None of what you had accomplished brought happiness to any other person other than yourself. Attending mass every Sunday is not a ticket through the door.

“Please go back down the stairs and out the door. Your challenge to prove your worth in your world awaits you. I wish you well. Remember to love and learn to understand others in your life.” Charles, with his head down, slowly made his way down the stairs. Charles paused as he stood at the front door with his hand on the knob. Emotions were rushing through him. His mind was swimming with thoughts and images of what could be beyond that door.

Opening the door, he saw a taxi parked at the curb with the rear passenger door open. Charles walked up to the cab and got in. “where ya going mate?” the cabbie said with a rough British accent. “I don’t know where I’m headed,” Charles said. “Don’t worry I got you covered.” The cab pulled away from the curb and meandered through a quiet English neighborhood. A half an hour later the cab stopped. “You’re here Mate, Enjoy!” the cabbie offered. Charles opened the door and stepped out. In front of him was a homeless shelter. There was a line of homeless waiting for the kitchen to open.

I earned my Master’s in Psychology and Counseling in 2004. I have been in the field since 1989. In the beginning, I had a dream of making a difference in the world, to learn about human nature and learn how to create a way to change people’s lives and enlighten them to a better way of life. Such grand dreams I had.

Twenty-eight years, I find that I have had revelations on human nature, including my own. Twenty-eight years later, I have become jaded over and over to the work that I have (been?) chosen to do. I was taught to help people work on their problems, to overcome their problems, to ‘move past’ their problems. In reality, at least for me, this is so very tiring. It is like Sisyphus, pushing a boulder up a hill.

I have a new client that I had met briefly and she has decided to work with me. I don’t want to work on her problem (Bulimia and depression). My goal is to help her recreate herself and hopefully become the person that is hiding deep inside of herself. To me, the diagnosis is a label covering the true self. Her behaviors are effectively keeping hidden the woman inside. I want to work with that woman, not the disorder, not the immediate behaviors.

This excites me, this journey that I will travel with her on is enlightening. I hope she will be willing to explore her story and begin to rewrite it. An anonymous person once said: “When writing the story of your life, never let anyone else hold the pen.” Maybe others held the pen when her life was written. I sit here at my desk listening to Be Inspired videos on YouTube. I realize that working in the way I want with my clients brings creativity, it brings mindfulness both to my understanding of them and how they respond to my work. It also brings a renewed discipline to seek the closed doors and slowly open them.

We may only initially peek inside and then close the door. But we will hopefully eventually open those doors and find that the pain that was suspect behind them, it really not there. I await the Satori moments that come from the work and growing fearlessness in finding that beautiful hidden person inside.

After that rather heavy topic of my father, I decided to lighten things up a bit.

Today after power washing the house and cutting the grass, I started the Weber charcoal grill.  Chicken thighs and drumsticks into the stainless bowl with olive oil, thyme, rosemary and Italian parsley. Pink salt and cracked black pepper go in. Give it a quick toss. The chimney is heating up the hardwood coals.  they begin to edge that desired whiteness as a few on the bottom glow a bright red. Toss the coals into the grill and oil the grate. Chicken on.

I found two yellow beets in the fridge. A quick wrap in foil and they joined the chicken on the grill, along with a lemon halved for that grilled lemon finishing touch. Meanwhile, small multicolored potatoes par-boil on the stove. Another stainless bowl and the potatoes are drained, halved and tossed with, yes, you got it, olive oil and salt & pepper. Bang, on the grill. Moments later crispy chicken skin, potatoes caramelizing to a golden brown. Oh, wait! I forgot the Romaine Lettuce! Yes, the appetizer to die for. Romaine lettuce you say!?!

Watching a cooking show one day, I watched a chef take a head of Romaine and slice it in half lengthwise. Olive oil, salt (Himalayan Pink Salt) and cracked black pepper and just a half a minute on the grill at the hottest point and perfection. It isn’t just Romaine lettuce anymore! As a perfect accompaniment, my wife made a light and refreshing salad as a counterpoint to the deep and heavy tastes of the main dishes. Julienned radishes and cucumber with a rice wine vinegar dressing and cilantro as a splash of color and brightness in taste. I love cooking with her!

So, my original thought when thinking of this latest blog. I had just written a serious story about my father and losses in life. Later I took a walk around the neighborhood with my wife and thought about how we create memories. A thought came to mind after enjoying our great dinner.

How about creating fabulous memories over food, drink, and conversation? No, this isn’t a new invention of mine. I have heard of pop-up dinners happening among foodies in different towns and cities across the country. Picture it, the sounds of chopping and mixing. The sizzle of food being cooked and the aroma of it all! Sinatra or some cool jazz playing in the background and laughter and conversation! I think it would be fun to have a Saturday where good friends and family get together and create amazing dishes, enjoy conversations and create those memories that we so need to add fullness to our lives.

Dinner party anyone?