The Only Constant is Change…

In AA, I’ve heard some folks say the only two things alcoholics hate are things changing and things staying the same…

Well, young Bucky, gird your loins ’cause some major shifts are a-happening!

And of course, music always heralds the coming of a new age, or at least a “hark” so the herald angels sing…

David Bowie, the herald angel…

I think that’s about as strong of a hook as I can create at the moment for this post.

I have so many things to catch you up on since I posted two weeks ago.


This is Day Two without a cigarette, so I am technically, clinically, legally, and existentially insane.

But (or AND), if you know me and/or are a devoted reader, labeling myself as insane is a bit trite, redundant, overstated, unnecessary, and goes without saying…

Ahem… 😉

However, my occasional lapses into self-deprecation and flying the flag of Captain Obvious do lend a little pressure release and written lubrication whilst I conceive my intended course for this post.

So, yes….

I’m stalling.

Thank you, Captain Obvious!

Where to Begin?

Since this blog is geared towards demonstrating principles of thriving beyond trauma by sharing my own personal adventures, it stands that I shall catch you all up on some shit.

And I use the word “shit” playfully and affectionately here because the changes in my life since last we spoke (I wrote and you read), have been the furthest things from excrement.

Does that make them food?

That’s about as far from shit as you can get, methinks?

At least, in the whole digestive spectrum, I suppose?

So yes, the events of the last two weeks have been akin to the sweet nectar of the gods–inasmuch as being the nourishing, life-changing experiences we’ve absorbed since then!

Wow! What a mouthful!….

Wait for it….



As glad as I am to be at ye ol’ keyboard of dreams, I am frickin’ exhausted!

One week ago, Tricia and I moved into a house!


That’s right!

A motherfucking, ain’t got no damn roommates, I can walk around the house buck-ass fucking naked if I want to, motherfucking house!


Tricia and I have mutually had roommates for a few years now, so the fact that we are renting a house for just the two of us is so indescribably fucking awesome, I may only be able to use cat gifs to adequately describe my joy!

I do need to back up a bit because I realize I just lied a little, too….

No, we did not rent the house for just the two of us.

Part of the master plan for many-a-moon has been to get some kitties back up in this bitch.

And by “this bitch,” I mean my life… again, affectionately.

The VERY night we started moving into La Casa de los Gatos, Tricia fortuitously found two kittens online.

Before I go down the road to that story, I need to back up a bit more…

Everything wonderful that has happened lately has been as a result of Tricia finding things…

For instance, she found this house online.

She found the kitties THE MOMENT they appeared online. (We were the first of many to respond to the Craigslist ad.)

And… as I shall reveal later, she found something else that we are very happy about.

I think I need to hit her up for some lottery numbers because she clearly has the touch.

A Series of Fortunate Events

I want to continue writing right now, but as mentioned earlier… I am fucking exhausted and my brain sans nicotine, day two, is a bit blurry…

I’m headed down for some self-care (AKA a nap) and shall return to regale you with the events of the last two weeks in hopefully a close-to-coherent way.

No more coherent than normal, but at least to where I can follow it.

BRB, young Bucky…


And we’re back!

A couple weeks ago I did some hard shit…

And I don’t mean heroin or cocaine.

I faced my fear of climbing a fucking palm tree, worked around mesquite trees with thorns almost as thick as pencils, and survived humid and over 105 degree work conditions…

So yeah, I saw and did some cool shit.

Working in and around trees with boot-puncturing thorns makes one’s mindfulness practice very important.

I was very impressed by the crew I work with because I heard minimal complaining despite the pokey conditions.

Every step and limb grab had to be intentional lest one finds themself skewered by a mesquite spike.

Nonetheless, the mixture of potential punctures, palm trees, and the picturesque made two weeks ago eventful and satisfying at work.

Again, I showed up and did hard shit and felt grateful to participate.

A Moving Experience

A few weeks ago Tricia and I decided we wanted to find a place of our own.

We both had similar ideas of what we wanted for our living situation, and they included not having roommates nor a live-in landlord.


We both wanted to have the creative freedom of landscaping our own yard.

The most important thing for me, however, was getting a couple kitties.

Ever since I left Oregon in 2019, I have been without my feline friends.

Perhaps to those who read this and are not predisposed to the level of feline infatuation I live with on a daily basis, this point may fall flat.

However, for me, I felt like a huge piece of me was missing living without them damn kitties!

Yes, they are very much a part of my happy place, self-care, or whatever the fuck you want to call it.

The point is, I was overdue for getting some kitties, and fortunately, the Universe provided them at just the right timing!

So as I mentioned earlier, Tricia found this three bedroom, two bath house, and the very night we started moving in, she found these two online:

Meet Pneuma & Luna
Kings of the Castle

We found littermates on a dark Saturday night and rescued them from the rough hands of an overzealous child in Scottsdale.

That might sound a little dramatic, but one of their (the kittens’) siblings seemed a little slow, and by the way one of the owner’s children was shaking the kitties, we felt good about adopting these two from potential shaken kitty syndrome.

On the way to Scottsdale, we heard the songs Pneuma by Tool and Luna by The Smashing Pumpkins, and thus our house tiger and pantera de la casa received their names.

Besides our kitty acquisitions, we also ordered a cat tree which resembles more a kitty megaplex! And they took to it immediately. This thing is taller than me (which isn’t saying much)…

But they love it and that’s all that matters!

Every day they are growing larger and more affectionate.

They are purrrrfect! 🙂

So amidst the excitement of it all, last weekend we moved all of Tricia’s and my stuff with the use of my boss’s truck and trailer.

A good friend of mine lent a hand with the move for a couple hours Sunday morning.

Our new neighbor hooked up a hose to our front yard spigot so we could have running water, and we slid in safe to our new digs…

And just in-time.

My living situation wasn’t so bad except the occasional drama I overheard from my roommates. Fortunately, I practice the fine art of minding my own fucking business, so it’s impact was minimal.

Tricia, on the other hand, had some first-class bullshit to contend with leaving her former place. So I am grateful to have assisted her with leaving the land of drama llamas!

Let’s just say this in case you’re ever considering renting from “friends.”

Get everything in writing to cover your ass if you’re a renter or rentee.

And… If someone routinely calls you names and changes the terms of the agreement with you, THEY ARE NOT YOUR FRIEND!!!

[Steps off soap box and puts it away for another day]

At least, until next time…

So let’s just say the move is a win-win-win-win-win.

It’s a win for Tricia, me, the kitties, and our new landlord.

Fortunately, for us, our landlord appears to manage by neglect, so we have the freedom to put in a flower/vegetable/Zen garden. It came with a firepit and possibly has room for a small pool.

There’s a couple sheds, ample parking, we’re near a lot of businesses, the freeways, my work, the gym, AA meetings, my family, a park, and the neighborhood is decent.

We did alright on our first move together, and it feels wonderful to have some fucking autonomy again.

We can be as loud as we want to (and you know damn well what I mean)!

I actually can use my tools, play my guitar, and listen to loud music.

In fact, I could have a loud motorcycle if I wanted….

The Cherry on Top

So thanks to the commercials I heard on the local rock music radio station, my overdeveloped ego, and Tricia’s blessing, the fertile ground for having a Harley-Davidson germinated my idea and took root unto growing a scooter-scheme.

Since I just used a Michael Scott gif, I won’t say that was a mouthful, but you know what I mean… Oh wait, I just did!

After getting the greenlight from Tricia to trade in my Honda for a Harley, my obsessive mind took over and I began finding ways to manipulate my minimal resources to manifest said machine… manically?

Probably maniacally, but nonetheless, I went down the rabbit hole of trying to make a bike appear whilst simultaneously letting go of the outcome.

The goal was to upgrade to a touring bike that would seat Tricia more comfortably for longer trips.

And to upgrade my fragile self-esteem with a Harley so I’d feel cool again.

Yes, I admit my lower nature succumbs to such nonsense. It’s hard to be an enlightened person who still likes shiny stuff.

It is what it is…

Prajnaparamita with loud pipes…

So after a day or two of disappointment dealing with the local Harley dealership (i.e. they were not going to give me much for my trade, and I was declined for a loan), I figured well, either I’m going through a private seller or just not getting a different bike right now.

When I told Tricia this, within a minute she found this bike on Facebook marketplace…

1996 Road King

We messaged the owner and he said someone was coming to look at it the next day. I told him that if he changed his mind, we could be there within the hour with cash to buy it.

He changed his mind.

We ran right out to meet the owner of this bike who had put all kinds of extras onto it including a tuner, loud pipes, an assortment of leather bags, an extra windshield and seat, et cetera, etc.

He and his wife clearly loved and took care of this bike.

It’s just what I was looking for.

I own it outright, and I can sell the Honda to make some money back.

Tricia said Jeep owners wait 500 miles to name their rigs, so I’ll give it some time to name this beaut.

And a sufficient seat for my sweetheart…

So yeah… Tricia’s running three for three.

She found the house.

She found the kitties.

She found the Harley.

I’d say she found me, but I think I found her.

And I’m fucking grateful I did!

Whether we buy a ticket or not, she and I won the lottery…

Because we have each other!

I found my person…

Adventures in Domestic Living

Prior to moving, Tricia and I decided we were going to quit smoking once we got settled into our new place.

Well, we are more-or-less settled, it’s Labor Day weekend, so now’s time to put up or shut up.

I, for one, have felt troubled about smoking since I resumed it.

Not to mention the health implications, the shit’s fucking expensive! The brand I smoke runs upwards of $12 per day. That’s roughly $360 per month in fucking cigarettes!

Plus, I know Tricia and I want to lead healthier lives.

And since I’ve been smoking, I sit around on my ass a lot…. smoking.

It’s such a waste of time, resources, and health.

So we quit yesterday morning.

I quit cold turkey.

So far, we haven’t killed each other.

We have had a couple tense moments, and as I wrote earlier, I am technically insane right now and forming complete sentences is challenging.

However, I am willing to rip off that scab and get through this because I do hard shit that leads to a better quality of life.

Tricia joined me for CrossFit yesterday for the first time and she did great!

I am grateful she got to meet my peeps I’ve known for the last seven months.

In eight days, I’ll have nine months sober again.

Friday night, I went to a meeting in Mesa with nine of my AA buddies.

I have a daily routine of texting several men three things I’m grateful for… And the list of guys is growing!

I have found the life I am looking for.

The key is to be grateful for it one moment at a time.

So far, I’m off to a good start.


Writing a blog about thriving beyond trauma and choosing to use my lived-experience as an example feels like a double-edged sword sometimes.

I think it’s absolutely necessary to relate to each other in order to heal, recover, and thrive!

And the only vehicle I know for conveying that message to you all is my life.

My thoughts about this life matter, but not as much as what I do.

Today, without a doubt, I am happier than I have ever been!

Yes, I have the nagging feeling of nicotine withdrawal that feels like my body is craving something while my mind has erratic spikes of emotionality and confusion.

I also feel the slight whisper of shame and imposter syndrome that says, “You’re only happy because you’re getting all these things you want, and so you’re selfish and don’t deserve them.”

And to that old voice, I say thank you for sharing, now shut the fuck up.

I know where that voice comes from…

That script was downloaded into me by a man who wasn’t okay with his own feelings and right to have them…

His shame is not my shame though.

Even if I am fucking up by shacking up with Tricia, getting some kitties, and buying a Harley, I am living my best life and am enjoying the hell out of the adventure.

I am sober today because I want to be and choose to be.

I am facing my demons and chasing my dreams.

I quit fucking smoking yesterday.

I go to work every day.

I try to be of service to others.

I practice being a loving boyfriend and admitting when I fall short.

I am living the fucking dream today!

And I’m writing this motherfucking blog when every other scrambled thought of mine includes a nicotine withdrawal or urge to eat something.

Life is good because I am living it fully awake to the ups and downs of it.

I am thriving beyond trauma by choice.

And if you are reading this, so are you!

Show up for your life.

Find out what you want and go for it.

Find out what holds you back, and let that shit go!

Everything you want is within reach…

Just reach out and grab it!

Thank you and be well 🙂

Thank you for reading this epic chapter in my life of soooooo many wonderful changes. I am grateful for the turn of events in my life, and I feel like I had a hand in manifesting this stuff. Every thing that has happened, I wanted. I decided to set the intention, point my feet in the direction I wanted to go, and fucking went there with an open mind. This is the essence of thriving beyond trauma!

If you want to start realizing your dreams, follow, like, and comment on this blog, and email me at We will figure out how to get you the job you want, that special someone, or even maybe a cat and a Harley?

Also, check out my podcast. This week will be the season finale where I interview Tricia! Be sure to check out episode 13. For now, here’s the link to episode 12 (because I haven’t recorded #13 yet).

Found on all major podcast platforms – or at least Spotify, Apple, iHeart, Stitcher, and maybe Google?

You can also check me (and Tricia, the kitties, and the Harley) on social media:

Instagram: @greenleaf_4_life

TikTok: @greenleaf4life

4 responses to “The Only Constant is Change…”

  1. WOW! I am so happy and excited for you that you have finally gotten everything you set out to gain in your life. Not only do you desrve all of the most recent blessings, but so may more are headed your way, and being with Tricia will cause her to continue to be your lucky charm. You deserve all the lve and happiness you now have. I’ve been a follower of your blog for some time now and it was so wonderful reading that you not only found the love of your life (maybe longer), but you have achieved everything you wanted plus some. How amazing is that? Fucking awesome. I’m still dealing with the recovery thing. It’s been on and off again for quite some time now. When it’s off I tell myself (in my head) I don’t need, or even want the shit in my life. So why do I continue punishing myself everytime I return to it? It’s ain’t like milk. where ‘it does a body good’. Anyways, FUCKING YAY $ YOU & TRICIA. Oh, and the KITTIES.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey there! It’s good to hear from you! Thank you for reading it and your continued support! I appreciate everything you said! And I hear ya about the recovery gig. It’s tricky at times, but when it’s your time, it’s your time and you’ll know it. I know for me, I can’t do it without the help of others. It can be a motherfucker, but worth it! You got this!

      PS, that’s so cool about your daughter’s cat, too!

      Be well! 🖤


      1. I was literally just looking for my “STUFF” when I saw I had notifications. So, I clicked it and there was your reply. You have no idea how much your words and the positive vibes along with your encouragement to help me get through this bullshit, mean to me! However , I still have to find the shit so it’s not found by someone else! And there’s an added bonus. I feel I don’t wanna do it. It’s not like I have to have the shit. I jus gets those fucking urges, so damn sporadic and random. Not to mention the inconvenience of it all. And well. . . End up in possession of something anyways. I’m not gonna lie to you, when I find it on my bed somewhere or in whatever compartment it is in my bag, I’m gonna have to make the choice of whether to stash it somewhere and hide it, so I can do it some other time. Or do the smartest and most common sense choice by flushing it down the toilet. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it on my own before. Please just keep me in your thoughts and prayers. Again, I’m so freaking happy for you two. And I’m glad the time you were away not blogging, was exactly everything you wanted and needed in your life. Those things that cause you to feel that awesome energy knowing how great shit’s going for YOU! I know that feeling and I want it back. Even when I’m not using, and haven’t for days or even weeks, I don’t have that feeling any more. Like it was given an overdose of Novocaine causing it to be so numb. And I’m freaking out, like I’ll never feel that euphoria again. I know it’s possible to bring that feeling back. I just don’t know when I fucking lost it or how or even why. Things in my life aren’t so bad that they can’t be dealt with. This just has to do with me. Like I’m getting in my own way. And I know as crazy as that sounds, it’s fucking true. And knowing what you know and being able to teach other people what you know, you know exactly what I’m trying to say that I can’t get out. Whew!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, I forgot to tell you my daughter named her last female cat Luna also. I thought that was pretty cool you guys choe the same name but came up with it in a completely different way.


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