The Waiting Game…

Of course, I know what I mean by “The Waiting Game.”

However, looking at the date of my last post, evidently, it also applies to me sitting my ass down to once again regale you fine folks with my thoughts on thriving beyond trauma.

The last post doesn’t really count because I mostly just copied-and-pasted the intro chapter to my new book (which I have not been writing either).

So, as I become aware of the glistening nail in the board of which I am currently beating myself with, it’s been over a month since I wrote a post of real substance.

Whew! The shame swamp is murky today!

Somewhere, someone told me I get a certain satisfaction out of self-flagellation and self-pity…

To wit: “We [I] wallow in this messy bog, often getting a misshapen and painful pleasure out of it” (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, pg. 45).

So, we (again, I) will kindly greet the inner critics, embrace them, and bid them adieu.

So, in a word… Welcome…

And thank you for tuning into another installment of how I try to make meaning out of my madness and illustrate that despite my grosser handicaps, life and my attitude are going very well… or as well as I allow them to.

I think…

Hurry Up and Wait

No, not really.

Don’t do that.

The “hurry up” part I mean.

I mean, if you really want to hurry up, by all means, have at it.

Who the fuck am I to suggest what you should and shouldn’t do?

I just know that by gaging the barometer of my own current mental health, this hurry up and wait bullshit has not boded well for yours truly.

And what, pray tell, have you been hurrying up and waiting for, David? You may be asking yourself…

Well, young Bucky, that’s exactly what I intend to expound upon.

So just hold your fucking horses and…


See how fucking good that feels?

With all of this patience I’ve been practicing, you’d think I was a fucking doctor.

Yes, I realize the pun works better spoken than written, but you get the gist.

Yes, a fine question indeed, curious reader.

Why are ANY OF US here?

And where is HERE?

These are perhaps thoughts for another, more philosophically comforting post.

For now, I’m merely stalling whilst I think of what to write next.

Ah yes, this hurry up and wait shit.

Since I have not written for a skosh*, you may be blissfully unaware that I have been in pursuit of a new job.

*The word skosh comes from the Japanese word sukoshi, which is pronounced “skoh shee” and means “a tiny bit” or “a small amount” (interwebs).

Despite my best intentions to become a world-renowned writer and would-be Life Coach/CrossFit coach/behavioral health tech, the Universe has steered me in the direction of working for the State serving elderly vets (veterans, not animal doctors… I suppose I could’ve just written “veterans” to begin with and eschewed obfuscation – don’t distract me).

Three plus weeks ago, I interviewed for said position and was given reasonable reason (not sure if that’s redundant) to believe I will be offered the job.

It would be very helpful to have a career with good benefits and pay while I plan world domination, er… I mean inspiring the masses into self-actualization via thriving beyond trauma.

After the very encouraging interview and reassurance from a friend already working at the facility, I was advised that the Human Resources department would begin vetting me…

I was also warned that HR’s process would likely take some time.

The friendly suggestion from my soon-to-be-I-fucking-hope-so-boss and my friend was to….


be patient.

Did you notice one of the dot series above was only two dots?

Did you go back and look…?

Yeah, that’s kind of what the last three weeks have been like for me.

I have heard from the friendly HR lady about four times requesting information from me to conduct her background check.

Granted, I have a fingerprint security clearance card with the State of Arizona, so I feel reasonably sure the State’s background check will go through…

Or will it?

I got an email from said friendly HR lady stating I omitted a couple of my past employers (which I did due to job relevance [and embarrassment]), and I was reminded I needed to include ALL of my former employers on the application.

Great. Now they think I’m a fucking liar.


My resume, although filled with job-relevant qualifications, definitely has some holes in it.

Not to mention (except I am), some short terms at said jobs.

Then, what about my references?

Are they responding to the HR requests?

What about my credit, my Facebook, and the phase of the moon?

It is said in some book, “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop” (Proverbs 16:27).

However, my hands have been far from idle…

My hands have been fiddle-fucking with my iPhone every five-to-fifteen minutes ad nauseum checking my email for news about this job.

If you’ve never been there, you may not relate to this level of obsessive/addictive thinking…

But the chronic checking of my email is akin to waiting for the dope-man to call (or more importantly, show up with the fucking dope since I gave him my money and he’s been gone for four fucking hours – yes, I’m speaking from personal experience).

And in case the State’s HR department is reading my blog, I haven’t done that shit for over 20 years. And I disclosed it on my resume and application… sort of.

No, I’m not the least bit rattled right now…

The coup de grace (which of course, I did to [for] myself) was quit my tree trimming job.

My reasoning made sense except as it eliminated my income.

I was tired of working in unsafe conditions and experiencing constant pain.

From that stand-point, leaving my job was a sound decision.

Ceasing to make money was perhaps a teensy-weensy bit insane.

So, while coupling fear of (and perhaps actual) financial insecurity with sitting on my ass and waiting to hear about this job, if there is a devil, he’s had me strapped down (tied by my idle hands, I suppose) in his workshop of worry.

And yes, I’ve been hurrying the waiting…

Or something like that…

Don’t Just Do Something, Stand There!

At first glace, that heading may not make much sense…

Perhaps like most of my writing.

And, as usual, more will be revealed.

Although it feels like my activities have mostly consisted of staring at my fucking phone (yes, the email) as well as social media, I’ve actually done a few things with my idle hands.

I visited my children and met my first granddaughter…

The experience of meeting my new grandbaby was nothing short of spell-binding. Upon meeting, that wee one stared into my soul for a solid minute and stole my heart (you know, the black shriveled one). Meeting her was such a powerful experience, my eyes even changed color!

You can think what you want about that last statement…

The point is, meeting my child’s child was a spiritual experience I am eternally grateful for.

Seeing both of my children was the temporary emotional and spiritual jump-start I needed.

I also showed my sweetheart some sights in Oregon…

Ran the Rugged Maniac obstacle course…

Trimmed our trees…

Took my sweetie on a motorcycle ride to a ghost town…

And I have released a litany of cat TikTok videos…

So, my hands haven’t exactly been “idle,” per se…

And yet, I find plenty of reasons to beat myself up for not being productive nor good enough whilst I await the commencement of my new career.

Oh, and to minimize the crazy, I’ve stepped up my recovery efforts; I got a new sponsor, increased my meeting attendance, and have taken on some service positions.

So there’s that, too.

But what about this business of NOT just doing something and choosing to stand there?

What I mean by that is sometimes in the fray of discomfort, one tends to keep themselves busy and distracted in a feeble attempt to shortcut or outright eliminate unwanted feelings.

While distraction has its merits, and doing things we need and want to do are infinitely better than ruminating, sometimes, (most times) we need to sit still and feel the uncomfortable feelings…. At least for a little while…

That which we resist (or ignore) persists.

So, as of late, I have found myself mindfully sitting with the feelings and thoughts I’d rather avoid.

By speaking them out into the Universe and sharing them with friends and the Almighty, I have been able to (mostly) allow the yuck to flow through me.

When I consciously focused on feeling the feelings, I felt some relief.

Whilst mindlessly grasping for the email I yearned for, I stayed stuck.

I felt so stuck that my creativity was stunted – hence no blog posts.

Today and yesterday, I watched little birds searching for seeds in our backyard.

I contemplated a part of the Bible that basically says the birds don’t worry about where or when they’ll get their next meal, so why should we?

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life . . . Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them . . .  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 25-27).

Yes, I cherry-picked parts of that excerpt for my own convenience, and if you know me by now, I am certainly not telling you you need to believe everything (or anything for that matter) in the Bible.

However, it was comforting for this Buddhist neo-pagan to remember that particular verse.

By taking my feelings to my Higher Power, sitting with them with as little judgement as I could muster, and seeking guidance from the Universe, the birds inspired me to practice faith and patience.

I felt assured that our needs would be taken care of (and are currently taken care of), regardless of how the job circumstances worked out or not.

I knew I have everything I need, and more will be revealed.

So, don’t just do something, stand there!

You gotta feel to heal!

What a Twist

So, because the Universe has impeccable timing and certainly a twisted-ass sense of humor and irony, something amazing happened while I was writing that last section…

I got the call!

Yes, THE call I’ve been waiting (and hurrying) for.

The HR department just called me and offered me the job!

I find it incredibly ironic that as soon as I finally got off my ass (except I am technically sitting on my ass right now – don’t confuse me with the facts) and began writing this blog about my meandering journey of surrender, I got the fucking call.

Ha ha, God….

Good one.

So yeah…

I’m fucking ecstatic, humbled, and feel a bit lightheaded.

I would be lying if I said I never had a doubt about getting the job…

I mean, if you’ve made it this far into this post, you know damn well I had plenty of doubt.

Waiting does not come easily for me – especially when I place my self-worth and sense of security into the hands of others.

My inner revolutionary shudders that it’s actually the State I gave this much power over me to.


This exercise of writing and waiting once again illustrates an important point…

“It means that this damn thing doesn’t work at all!” –Doc Brown

And of course, by “this damn thing,” I mean my fucking head.

I cannot think my way into better living, only live my way into better thinking.

Every step of this blessed bloodbath was necessary to (hopefully) teach me (remind me) of the ever important lessons of surrender.

So, you’re welcome.

Hopefully, whilst reading about my flailing, you can pick up a thing or two about not taking yourself (or life) so seriously and practicing patience.

Or not…

More will be revealed…


Well, folks, this brings us to the conclusion (hence the heading aptly named “Conclusion”) of our latest lesson in surrendering to the flow of life…

What have we learned here today?

That the author (me) is a madman and clearly has an on-going reservation at the padded-room hotel.

One jacket, extra long sleeves please. Oh, and do make sure there’s plenty of buckles in the back…

I, for one, feel better for having made it down this meandering path of mania somewhat intact.

I’ve hurried…

I’ve waited…

I’ve stood still…

I’ve felt the feelings…

And put my idle hands to work…

I do wonder if my regular readers tire of the repeat gifs…

However, wonder does not quite enter into the realm of care because I do so love them!

The gifs, that is… And yes, I love the readers, too!

Just like my growing library of kitty TikToks…

Here’s a small sample… Enjoy!

They make me smile.

And at the end of the day, isn’t that what we all want?

To smile?

Despite my apparent difficulties with patience, faith, and dare I say, emotional maturity, I know who I am and what I want…

And when I am pursuing my passions, I smile.

No, I don’t smile all of the time… Just ask Tricia.

It’s unreasonable to expect to be happy all of the time.

Except I think most people I know want constant happiness and certainly strive for it.

The thing is is I cannot enjoy the positive feelings if I don’t allow myself to lovingly (flailing like a wounded animal) feel ALL of my feelings.

There is not a drug or instant fix for me to change my mind and feelings.

I mean, sure there are… and I’ve done quite a few of them.

However, the consequences of running away from myself are no longer tolerable.

The high cost of low living is not worth it to me anymore.

I’d rather feel authentic and grow through my discomfort rather than mask what’s really going on.

I know from my own experience (as mentioned earlier), that which I resist persists.

The only way out is through.

I used to have a sponsor whom frequently said, “Lean into the pain.”

When I take evasive maneuvers to avoid my feelings and pretend like everything is okay, those feelings will get stuck and come back later.

I must allow all of it to flow through me.

Don’t get me wrong…

Mindset and deciding to practice gratitude and happiness are essential…

But (And) there must be balance…

And so this latest episode (and it won’t be the last) of coming to grips with waiting and detaching my self-worth from my accomplishments and others’ approval is but another stepping stone in the journey of thriving beyond trauma.

I come by my neurosis honestly. (see posts: and

The rub is that today, I do not get to blame others for my current choices.

I am not a victim. I am a volunteer.

I am accountable to take care of my own emotional wellbeing and mental health.

No one else is!

Sure, my childhood afforded me several downloads of damaged goods…

But that was then. This is now.

And goddammit, I’m doing the best I fucking can!

So, as I gleefully remove the nifty nail from the board I beat myself with, I pause and remember I have a lot to be grateful for…

Including the shit storms inside my head.

All of life contains lessons in increasing my awareness and self-compassion.

And from that place, I realize, others aren’t out to get me… (I hope)

Fortunately, for today, the “they” that are out to get me are only in my head. (Again, I hope)

And I can tolerate and even love the “they” in my head.

And when I can do that…

I am free to love you…

I’m resisting the urge to set up a “That’s what she said” gif here…

Perhaps I am maturing?

See that wasn’t so hard…

wait for it….


And yes, there was an extra dot in the above dot series…

And maybe you looked again? πŸ˜‰

Be well πŸ™‚

Thank you, thank you, thank you… I’ll be here all week. Unless, of course, a meteor takes us all out… But alas, I’ll try to keep my nihilistic demented dreams to myself.

No, I won’t.

I came across a gif earlier that sums up what I want to say about liking, following, commenting, etc. on this blog…

You know where to find me… (see previous posts for contact info…. if you dare!)

Peace! 😎

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: