What Feels Insurmountable?

New power only comes by invitation.

Hi, and welcome. I record my own voiceovers. Tap the play button along the top of the post to hear my voice delivering the words I write. At the end, I always play a snippet of a song that spoke to me while writing the piece. The song is linked at the end of every post.

xo - Jeannie Lynn

When I think of what has felt insurmountable in my life, many memories from my active addiction and early recovery come to mind. Addiction is a beast. It is relentless.

Someone incredibly close to my heart has been gripped by the monstrous claws of addiction this week.

In the summer of 2018, I remember laying in bed hungover one day and Dominick had found all my empty bottles around the house. He went to check the mail and dropped the pile of envelopes on my bedside table as if to say: “see? It’s all piling up.” I felt everything piling up. The growing separation between me and my friends and family. The job slipping away because I kept calling in sick. The house slipping away because the job was slipping away. Dominick slipping away because he had nothing left to give. My will to live was slipping away because I couldn’t live without the very thing that was killing me. I would wake up only to drink more so that I could go back to sleep.

That day, when Dominick dropped the pile of mail on my bedside table, life itself felt insurmountable. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t pray. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t ask for help. I couldn’t move.

It wasn’t long after that when I began my first serious attempts at trying to get sober. Everyday things felt impossible. Alcohol was my best friend, to the point where I forgot what it felt like to do normal things without it. One Saturday morning, after I successfully hadn’t drank for about five days, I woke up glad that I didn’t have go to work that day. I automatically had the desire to go grab some McDonald’s breakfast and a bottle of rum or tequila so I could pour a double to have in the shower. Yes, that was my ideal Saturday morning at that point in my life. I laid there on my pillow knowing I had made a decision (and a promise to Dom) to stop drinking. In that moment I was utterly perplexed. Normal people want to get up and make breakfast and a pot of coffee on a Saturday morning. The thought of getting up to make breakfast completely sober felt like an insurmountable task. The thought of taking a shower without a double shot… without my “shower shot”… was an insurmountable problem. I laid there on my pillow trying to talk Dominick into letting me get a little bottle since it was Saturday. That was the first time he brought up the fact that maybe I had become an alcoholic.

I knew he was right. I knew I would drink again. I didn’t know how not to. I was powerless.

Eventually, the alcoholism drove me to lose my job at the time. I packed up my desk while visualizing the nearest liquor store. The relentless beast has no regard. I knew I couldn’t walk there with my box of things. I called Dominick to come pick me up, and the HR manager walked me out. I couldn’t sit still outside of that building. I walked to a nearby hotel and sat in the lobby to wait for him. When he got me, I knew I needed to go straight to an AA meeting, otherwise I would quickly begin to self destruct again. I couldn’t breathe as I barely managed to ask him to take me to 202- the old house where I had started going to meetings. I told him that was the only safe place for me to go. He dropped me off. I went into the meeting, sat in that plastic chair and sobbed. I shared how I just lost my job that afternoon. I shared how I didn’t know how to be sober. I shared how I didn’t know what I was going to do. Everyone listened. Nobody tried to fix my situation for me. The next person shared. I listened. After the meeting, one kind man sat on the patio with me while I waited for Dom to pick me up. He said the simplest thing. He said: “there will always be another job.” For some reason, right then, it hit me that I was going to be okay. All that mattered was that I was alive, breathing, and sober. All of a sudden I felt like I could go home and pray again. I could ask for help. I could find another job. I could stay sober.

It started with a choice to walk to a hotel lobby instead of the liquor store. I cried in public and said out loud how impossible everything felt. I said it out loud to listening ears. That’s when some sort of shift happened. It was no longer an insurmountable battle that I was facing alone. By bringing it into the light with other people, I saw it for what it was. It was a very challenging situation that I would slowly get through, one single step at a time.

Fast forward two months from that day, and I had a job offer from a prestigious university, albeit for an entry level position. It was a foot in the door. I had spent those two months going to AA meetings and choosing to trust people who told me if I kept my recovery first, everything else would fall into place. I didn’t understand how it could work, but it did.

Life got better and better because I invited new power into my life. Yes, the choices were my own, and they were choices to accept power from another source other than myself.

Have you ever come to the end of yourself?… the end of your options?… what feels like the end of everything? It’s the point when the thing, the person, the situation, the problem… feels insurmountable. And then what? Give up into utter ruin or cry out for help. New power must be invited into the situation. This might look like accepting outside support, linking with community, praying sincerely to a power greater than oneself, or just straight up surrendering altogether. When any of these attempts are sincere, that’s when new power, love, energy rushes in. I have experienced this firsthand over and over and over again.

In my post last week, I shared about my trip to Utah to visit family, and I introduced my dear friend Duke. He is extraordinary. However, I know, without a doubt, that he would prefer I describe him as a person just like the rest of us. He does not claim to know more than you or me. He enjoys sharing about his experiences, what he has learned along the way, and what he is still learning presently. The same way I needed a sponsor and friends in AA, I also needed many yoga teachers to guide me when I started with the physical practice of yoga. Yoga then brought me back to my breath and eventually more meditation. I started to experience God in new ways. It wasn’t the same concept of God I grew up with in churches of religion or even within the safe structure of AA. I started to comprehend and connect more closely with the source of love and energy in all things. I began to have more questions. My heart and mind were expanding to their full potential. I was opening up more and seeking guidance once again. I started writing on Substack and signed up for yoga teacher training. I trusted more would be revealed in time. I wasn’t desperate and frantic this time around, which was nice. I could wait while also continuing to move forward. I could trust. That’s when Duke came along. He was introduced to me through one of my mom’s best friends who I consider one of my aunts.

After visiting with her, my uncle, and their family at their house in Ogden last weekend, Duke and I made the drive to Wendover for the next couple of days. He wanted to show me the elements of his life I had heard so much about: The Hermitage (his home), his cockatiel Joe, all the beautiful birds outside that his bird feeders bring around, his favorite local Mexican food joints, the drive down the desert road, and of course, his work, the Poker Room.

Friday was the day we decided to make the drive down the desert road, “el sendero.”

Duke had a specific destination spot in mind to bring me. He had described it as having scenic views of the rolling desert hills and mountains in the distance. He had a little fire pit already put together with stones. The drive was enjoyable. It was a 360 degree panoramic view of desert wildlife. Tough, sharp plants. Pops of color in wildflowers. Dark green groups of bushes and trees. Broken down remnants of wood fixtures for keeping cattle contained back when herders would pass through the area.

Duke was keeping an eye out for the point in the road where we would pull off to find his spot. He wasn’t seeing it, and we reached a point where he sensed we went too far. He found a good enough flat, grassy spot to turn around, off the dirt road. Right as the car was almost back onto the tracks of the dirt road to head back toward the direction we came, the rear passenger side of the vehicle rolled up over a huge rock.

It did not feel good. It did not sound good. We froze momentarily. Duke pressed the gas again. The wheels spun, and the car wasn’t moving. My stomach tied itself into a double knot, and I yelled at Duke to let off the gas when I smelled the rubber. I got out, and there was the giant rock, wedged under the lower frame of the car, just inside the rear passenger side wheel.

The car was high centered. It became pushed up by this rock, and the passenger side tires could not get a grip in the dirt to move us forward or backward off of this rock. We were stuck.

I stepped back and nervously paced. I looked around and the panic ensued within me.

What the hell did you think was going to happen Jeannie? You came out here to the middle of nowhere with this 76 year old guy you’ve never met in person, drive out in the desert, you don’t even have cell service, you’re going to have to walk for miles to get help, and if you’re not dead already, Dad is going to murder both of you if you ever get out of this. You are so f*%king stupid.

I paced back toward the car and pressed the bottom of my foot and all of my body weight into the rock under the car. It was locked. It didn’t budge whatsoever. Duke opened the trunk, pulled out retractable metal shovel, and handed it to me.

“Jeannie, with my respiratory condition, I can’t do much to help. You’re going to have to dig around this rock to get it loose.”

I was panicked inside, and I began to frantically dig. It felt useless pretty quickly, and my digging turned into stabbing the ground around the tire and the rock.

Duke’s voice never changed.

“Jeannie, we might be out here for a little while. You need to pace yourself and conserve your energy.”

I didn’t want to accept it, but I chose to accept that this was not going to be a fast solution. Duke never told me to calm down. He spoke in a calm, steady voice. I took a deep breath. I kept digging with directed intention this time. I got to the point when I felt that I made enough progress for Duke to try to move the car again.

I stepped back and let him make the attempt. The rock didn’t budge.

I was so scared. It didn’t seem like we would be able to get out of this by ourselves. I looked around the 360 view of the desert again and prayed.

Please God, please help us know what to do.

In the same voice, Duke shared with me his observation that the passenger side tires were still not getting enough grip and weight on the ground. He directed me to start looking for rocks I could wedge under the tires to get some grip, and therefore the power, to roll back up and over the rock. We were 30 minutes into the situation by this point.

I felt good about the large rocks I found and wedged under the tires. It was time for Duke to try again. He turned the car on, put it in reverse, and pressed the gas.

“IT MOVED!” I yelled.

“What did?” Duke yelled back.

“THE ROCK!”

“PROBLEM ROCK?”

“YES! THE PROBLEM ROCK MOVED!”

Hope was restored. I saw where the rocks came loose under the front tire, so I would have find some that were shaped better to stay wedged and secure. My excitement kicked up, and I started moving frantically again to find a good wedge rock. I finally found it and pushed it under the tire with the bottom of my foot to get it as secure as possible. I stepped far back again and prompted Duke. “Okay give it a try again!”

He waved me over with his hand. “Okay, Jeannie, now come here.”

I paused before walking toward him in the car. I was slightly annoyed. I just wanted him to try it again. We were getting closer.

Deep down, I knew Duke wanted to pray. Deep down, I knew I wanted to pray too. I got in the car and Duke handed me my water bottle. I was dripping sweat and full of dust. I drank the water down and took a deep breath. He lit the sage bundle he brought for us to have a little cleansing ritual whenever we reached the site. We realized now was the time. While Duke prayed, I had to consciously slow my breathing and quiet my mind. I had to consciously choose to believe that we were going to get out of this. I had to consciously choose to believe that something was going to help us. We had done everything we could in our own strength with the resources we had available. The rest was up to whatever we believed in, whether you want to call that God, guardian angels, or any sort of higher power looking out for us.

We closed our time of prayer and I stepped out of the car calmly, completely transformed from the frustrated state I was in when I got into the car. I stepped to a safe distance back again to avoid any flying rocks.

I looked back at Duke sitting in the car. The breeze flowed across my skin. Time stopped. A peace came over me. I swear to you everything shifted into slow motion. I knew we would get out of this. How did I know? I watched Duke move in slow motion as he lifted his water bottle to take one more drink. He set it back in his cup holder. I looked around at the beautiful desert landscape again. I was once again admiring it, instead of fearing it like some sort of giant graveyard. He started the car and put it in reverse. The rock budged even more this time, and the car rolled back forward.

“It moved even more this time, Duke!”

“Okay, Jeannie I have an idea. What do you think if I change our plan and try driving forward instead of reversing?”

I knew immediately it wasn’t right. I let the pause hang.

“Duke, I think we should try in reverse ONE more time.”

He didn’t doubt my judgment for a single moment. “Okay,” he confidently responded. He put the car in reverse again.

The tires gripped their placed rock wedges, and the car got the momentum it needed to push Problem Rock away and down the little dirt slope. The whole vehicle broke loose, flying backwards. My hands flew up in the air, and I was screaming with celebration, even though I knew Duke couldn’t even hear me. He was trying to slow the car down while it continued in the fast, reverse momentum. I’ll never forget the look of him bouncing all over, up and down in the driver’s seat before finally coming to a stop. Once he gained control, he put the car in drive toward a clear spot to get back on the road as quickly as possible.

I was still hooping and hollering with my hands in the air as I skipped toward the car. He was safely back on the road, and I jumped back in my seat. If I’m remembering right, we couldn’t even find any words at first. We just smiled at each other and looked around and started laughing, beginning to recount the last 45 minutes.

We drove back up beside problem rock and got out of the car to yell, celebrate, laugh, and enjoy the relief.

Standing on Problem Rock, holding the bundle of burning sage

And just like that, I was standing on top of the insurmountable challenge. I have not felt that alive and on-top-of-the-the-world in a long time.

It didn’t happen “just like that” did it? No.

Just like every other time when the situation at hand felt impossible, I had to face it. I had to make a conscious effort to try. I had to keep at it after I made it a start. I had to use everything available to me. I had to slow down. I had to breathe. I had to cooperate with someone else and work together with him. If I resisted and argued with him, it would have made more of a mess. I had to take care of myself in the process. I took a break to stay hydrated. When I did everything I knew to do, I chose to believe that a power greater than us would help us. Not only did I choose to believe in God, I chose to call on God.

One of the greatest gifts of the whole experience was the trust Duke had in me. His respiratory condition is serious, and he is on oxygen, so there really wasn’t anything he could do other than direct and drive the car. Again, his direction was not in a raised or condescending voice. He noticed when I was frantic and calmly reminded me of the reality of the situation. He allowed me to realize for myself that the panicked way I was expending energy was not sustainable. And toward the end, when he proposed the new idea to move the car forward, he didn’t doubt me for one second when I declined the idea and told him we should rock back one more time.

I followed my knowing. I trusted the God of my understanding and therefore my higher Self. Duke trusted and followed me. We were victorious. I will never forget how good it felt to move within that bond of mutual trust.

So what have I learned from all this? Why did Problem Rock remind me of the first time I went on a rollercoaster? I was crying and shaking and terrified in the face of what felt like certain death. Yet I didn’t give up. I didn’t run away. I chose to dig into the depths of myself and believe that I could make it through. When it was finished, and I was released from the experience, I immediately wanted to do it all over again.

The only way out is through.

Maybe it really is when we’re at the end of ourselves… the end of our options… at the point that feels like the end of everything… that we discover our true center. It is there we are connected to a greater force. When that connection is realized, there is no difference between the center of us and the center of the storm. We work with it. We work through it. We’ll know we’ve conquered it when we are grateful for it.

Thank you, Problem Rock.

For Julie.

Song lyrics for segment you hear in the voiceover:

Would you take these words even if they hurt
Make these dead bones live again?
I will not bow to this
I will not be just another man that loses to my fears