First off, let me say thanks to all the people that have checked in on me lately. I am alive and well, and still plugging away one minute, one second at a time. I know some of you caught my last blog before I removed it – and for that – I apologize. If you didn’t I will summarize. ‘I hate myself; I hate my life; and I shouldn’t be here anymore – period.’ I had gotten into a really rough and difficult place – and then couple that with some alcohol – the first time I had drank in many, many months – and you saw what happened.

The good news is that I recognized it and pulled myself up by the shirt collar and am chugging away once again – back on the right path. That “Missing Blog” – while being brutally honest – was not something I wanted to share with the world. There are still lots of parts of me I am trying to deal with and learn to handle and accept – things I lack the understanding or clarity to write about currently. I apologize again to those of you who read it. Honestly, I meant a lot of what I said in there despite my poor ability to put my emotions onto paper…errr….into a word-processing program.

Every day is a challenge for me still; every day it is a fight for me to get up and take on the world. I live perpetually scared of failing, of losing myself, of having the things I love stripped from me, of letting my friends and family down or my children down. It’s a slippery slope. The tiniest mistake could send me tumbling down a rocky slope that ends right back behind steel bars. I know that, and I see that, and it scares the hell out of me. I walk around every day with a giant monkey on my back. I carry my troubled history like a box of rocks – the weight of it constantly tugging at me.

Some days it takes every ounce of willpower I have to make it through the day. I have been on a long journey and I have learned quite a bit. But I have many, many more lessons ahead. To put it bluntly, you have to lose yourself to find yourself. That’s what has happened to me. But I’m not sure that I like the person I found all that much. Or at least, the pieces of the person I have found thus far. The core is there – the basis for a good person, a productive member of society. But at the moment I have to work out all the kinks. It’s like finding your favorite old car again and it hasn’t been cranked in years. The shell is there and the body is still intact – but I am in need of a good tune-up.

So that’s where I have been and what I have been doing – tuning myself back up. I’ve been staying busy exercising my mind, my body and my fists. (Boxing, mind you – not beating the hell out of random strangers.) I’ll try to be more proactive with posts in the future – I just had to step away and take a good, long, hard look at myself and what was happening. I felt like I was on the edge about to fall and there was no safety net. But things turned out alright. The sun continued to rise and set. Every day that I wake up and open my eyes is a another chance for me to set myself on the right path – to continue on this journey and find what it is I am so desperately seeking – me. Until I truly rediscover myself happiness will be a fish that I cannot catch. A journey of a million miles starts with a few steps, as they say – I have just now rounded the first turn. Thanks again for all your concerns and notes and kind words.

“You are not discovering yourself, but creating yourself anew. Seek, therefore,

not to find out who you are, seek to determine who you want to be.”

There is a huge difference between being the leave-er or the leave-ee. Even when you know the relationship has gone down the tubes and it’s unrepairable – it makes all the difference in the world who throws in the towel first. I am a lot of things and have been called a lot of names in my 29 years – but a quitter has never been one of them. I have never given up on anything.

And I never quit on my marriage. I tried every way possible to be a good husband, a good friend and a good father in my life. I was willing to try any and everything to make it work – up to and including giving up all my dreams and goals to work a job I was miserable at. Just for her. But that wasn’t enough. Nothing I could have done would have been enough. That was a hard lesson learned – I should have been living for myself all along.

So when she packed up and headed out with my kids in tow, there was really only one question. What went wrong? I still don’t know today. And I realize now I will never know. I spent a lot of the last six months trying to figure it out – and the more I did, the more I became upset and angry. Angry that I gave up so much and tried so hard, just for her to walk out the front door with little or no effort or thoughts about my feelings.

Constantly evaluating it – where it went bad, what I did wrong – was making it impossible for me to let go. And then, a few days ago it hit me. The main basis of Buddhism sums it up pretty well:

Life is Suffering

I realize that sounds quite morose, but it is so true. Buddhism teaches us that everything we love in life is temporary. Everything will leave us – our parents, our spouses, our children and all our material items. If you don’t accept that, then you will suffer, because I guarantee they will all be gone one-day. And that got me thinking…

She was still taking away my life and dreams and goals. Every second I devoted to thinking of her and the time we spent together are precious seconds I was taking away from my life now. Seconds that I can never get back. As soon as I realized that – she was gone. And that’s where she’ll stay. Sure, I will occasionally have to talk with her still. But that will be it. She had her chance and she made her decisions. Now I have made mine. I wish her happiness and joy and hope that she finds whatever it is she is seeking in life. Life is too short and precious to be unhappy – so I understand why she left. In fact, it was the best thing ever to happen to me. I am now the person I always wanted to be.

So henceforth you will not again see any ramblings on what was or could have been – only what is and what will be. Things are a lot brighter when you walk towards the light instead of looking away from it. I have everything a man could want and ask for right now – a great relationship, great friends, wonderful kids and I am doing exactly what it is I want in life. I refuse to feel sorry for myself any longer. To live is to suffer – I have acknowledged that and now I have moved on to bigger and better pastures…and boobs.

No sir, I absolutely did not just flip you off.

It’s a piece of true American nostalgia, riding the railroad all across America –seeing the other sides of towns. 70 miles per hour of blurring trees, countryside – a whiz of the blues, greens, browns, oranges and reds that make an Alabama fall. It’s breathtaking. But then again, so are some of people on this train. Not to mention it’s a balmy 85 degrees or so on in here.

One of the beauties of riding public transportation is getting to ride with your fellow citizens. Meeting the people that make up this unique and diverse country – and a diverse group of folks they are. Italians, Mexicans, Asians – there might be more diversity in this one train car than there is in the whole of the state of Alabama.

It makes me feel so homogenized. I long for the days when I traveled the world – meeting new people, experiencing things for the first time. Finding the differences and unique similarities between all of us – like the fact foreign food gives everyone the runs. In case you have ever considered it here is some advice: never give a Moroccan a bowl of your best recipe chili – something in it doesn’t agree with them.

This just makes me think of a simpler time in the World. A time my grandparents lived in – a time when people talked, showed each other respect – a world that was slower, safer and slightly more moral. A time when people knew their neighbors – where children built forts in the woods,played pickup games of baseball and rode their bikes around together without having to worry about being snatched up. The world today – it can be so mind-blowing. So many of the things we read about are just incomprehensible – the crimes, the wars, the corruption, the economy. It’s enough to make you want to douse yourself in some overpriced Diesel and send yourself up in flames.

But here I am – living and riding just like my long-gone relatives did. My grandfather rode a train from Fairbanks, Alaska to Akron, Alabama just to get off and propose to my grandmother. She said yes and he hopped right back on the train to Alaska. I guess the Army didn’t allow much furlough for proposals. I always found that to in be an amazing story. He knew what he wanted and did whatever it took to get it. If it wasn’t for the train, I guess I wouldn’t be here.

Traveling the scenic routes of Alabama and Georgia – with a little country music playing and a pretty cool traveling companion next to me – is fantastic. Darius Rucker’s new album is the perfect soundtrack for my trip. It’s got my mind right where it needs to be – focusing on the beauty of life and love and friendships. I have been a little juvenile at moments. My new friend and I have been watching the annoyed people at railroad crossings and flipping them off because, after all, they can never catch up with us. Take that air travel. Plus its cheaper than a tank of gas.

If I accidentally flip you off, accept my apologies. It’s all in good fun. Seriously, this is something you should try if you’ve never done it before. I can’t speak for the food – but I’m pretty sure Paula Dean’s not back there. Now if we could just get some air conditioning and some deoderizer this would be the perfect experience.

“My toughest fight was with my first wife.” – Muhammed Ali

It's not about fists: it's about heart.

I have gone and started on a quest that I have dreamed about since I was a little boy. I have taken up boxing as my one – and only – hobby.
I have become enamored with the sport. Pugilism – the art of fighting with the fists – is something I sat in my room and dreamed of doing when I was a little boy. Watching Mike Tyson tear through opponents in seconds, I always had the desire to fight. And like most Alabama boys I had my fair share of disagreements that were best solved via fisticuffs. But this journey I have embarked on – this is completely different.

Boxing, as I am learning, is not about the other person in the ring. It’s not a battle with an opponent. It is a battle within you. It is your mind telling you to stop – you are tired, weak, beaten. It is that battle you must conquer. It’s all about overcoming your own demons, problems and constraints to get to a place where you perform at your highest level. The training is absolute hell – it is all about enduring pain and winning that battle in your mind. It is everything I ever wanted and needed.

It allows me to escape my world – to go into a side of myself I never knew existed – to gaze into a part of Russell I have never seen before. Nothing worthwhile ever comes without hardship and pain. That is the story of my life. I love what Ali said in that quote. No fight can be worse than that with a loved one – a fight as your go through the demise of a relationship or stand among the crumbled ruins of what once was or could have been. It took pain and hardship – the kind of fights Ali talked about – to get me here. As odd as it sounds, I am thankful for that. Now that I am here, by comparison, fighting and life seem easier.

But through this art of fighting – this combat sport, I am learning that all those arguments and problems – whether it was a in a relationship, at a job or with my family – were never truly with another person – they were with myself. I now see that – and I am fixing the broken parts every time I step in that gym. It might not be for everyone – getting punched in the guts and face over and over – but for me it is The Greatest Battle. It is the fight for my life, my soul and the chance to forgive myself. Beating the hell out of someone may sound therapeutic– maybe relieve some pent-up frustrations – but it is the getting there that is saving me, one punch at a time.

A shmoke und a pancake. You know, a flapjack und a shigarette? No? Shigar und a waffle? No? Pipe und a crepe? No? Bong und a blintz? No? Well, then there ish no pleashing you.

So there I was, trying to stand on my front porch and enjoy the afternoon. Hanging out, enjoying the weather – a beautiful October afternoon in Alabama. Suddenly I feel as if I am being watched. Not like a stalker kind of thing, but one of those kind of “is this computer camera on while I am surfing adult sites?” vibes. Never had that? Me either…I was just making that up – seriously. A friend told me about that feeling.

Anywho – there I stand with a very unusual feeling and I look to my left and there, about 3 feet away – just hanging around minding her own business is a deer. This is at first one of those fight or flight reactions – do I run? Do I hide? Do I kick this deer in the crotch, gouge an eye and wrestle it down hoping my manly show of force will deter it? I wish I had a manly story. But, I didn’t do anything. I let out a quick “What’s up, deer?” and went back to minding my own business. After all, perhaps if I pretended I wasn’t there she would move on through the neighborhood and go hang out on someone else’s front porch. It’s the same approach I use with the homeless.

But then I got to thinking – I’ve seen all those damn Disney movies – the ones where the animals work in pairs and everyone’s best buddies. Maybe this deer was best friends with that squirrel I sent to the afterlife a couple weeks ago. Perhaps it had traveled many, many miles in search of me – to exact revenge in a flurry of paws and fur. Maybe it was my turn to “pay the piper.”

I mean, honestly? What the hell? When did I become Dr. Doolittle? I am remarkably unqualified for situations such as these. I never took this class in college. The closest encounter I have had with an animal in 10 years prior to this month was that one time a cat clawed my man-berries through my shorts at a house party. Or that time my ex-wife bit me when she…never mind that, actually. I still have scars and nightmares.

So I stood and thought about this quandary. Suddenly my brother opens the door, Bambi startles – I hear a faint “God D*^&!” and a quick slamming of the door. Once again, the familial ties have failed me and I alone am left in a compromising situation. The brother is batting 0 for 2 of being any kind of aid in times of crisis. I felt like George Clooney’s character in Oh, Brother Where Art Thou. “Damn, I’m in a tight spot.”

Here is a frightened deer, ears perked up – possibly wanting to exact its revenge on me – angry at my potty-mouthed brother for taking the lord’s name in vain. Of course this deer has on a collar – which makes it seem less threatening. But in my mind, equally dangerous. That’s how they sneak up on you. “Oh, look at me. You can pet me! I wont hurt you!” You can’t fool me deer. A pet deer? Seriously, work on a better disguise. At least put on a mask – pretend to be a dog, or my elderly neighbor.

I thought perhaps I should offer her a cigarette as some kind of peace treaty. But as I am currently uninsured I thought better of putting my paws that close to a wild animal’s mouth. I consider taking her on as a pet, but I can’t foresee her curling up on the foot of my bed.

So I do what any redneck from Alabama would do. No! I didn’t shoot her, mount the head and make deer jerky. I start waving my hands wildly in the air, screaming random gibberish and profanity and making a quick B-Line right in her direction, at which point I scare the shit out of someone’s petting zoo escapee. Either that or she decides I am crazy enough to “off” her just as I did the squirrel. Either way, the predator becomes the prey. Kind of like in “The Last House On The Left,” but completely different.

So here I am. I am beginning to wonder if crap like this use to happen to me all the time but in my drunkenness I just never noticed it. I’m not sure, but either way I am changing colognes – and brothers.

My little girl...

My daughter is so much like her mom, that it scares me. Looking into her eyes is like staring into the eyes of my ex-wife. It takes me through a range of feelings – from joy and hope, to anger and sadness. It is so difficult for me to try and look at her as a separate person than her mother – the time frame that she was born in, the conditions and state of our relationship, the bitterness, the love, the divorce – it’s all there behind those two beautiful blue eyes every time she looks at her dad. It makes me wish I was a better man; a better father.

It makes me want to be able to better separate the two of them. God knows I try. I am so scared of becoming the man who punishes the child for the sins of the mother. I see it – and I try to stop it. But it is a more challenging task than I ever imagined. I love my children unconditionally. But her curly brown hair, her porcelain skin, the way she curls her brow when she is upset – right now, my mind tells me she is her mom. When she cries her tears take me back to a place in time I don’t want to visit – it’s just like her mother is crying and the fighting is replaying all over again in my head, and there I am – saying things that are hurtful – words that cut like knives, that I can’t just apologize for.

And then she comes and hugs me, her 20-month old arms around my neck, telling me that it is okay; that mistakes happen, that people can change and forgive. She teaches me that love is more powerful than hatred. And in her eyes I see hope – hope for me, that I can be the father I want to be. A father like I had. And right then, in that instant – when her tears and mine stream down our faces at the same time and drip off her precious little nose – I realize she is not her mother. She is my daughter and one of the two greatest things to ever happen to me.

I have always been a very social creature – as my mom would tell you, for me it has been a blessing and a curse. Historically speaking I have made friends with anyone and everyone. I have more friends than I can keep track of. I suppose in some ways she is right. A lot of the “friends” I have made in my life didn’t necessarily bring out the best of me. Some brought out the worst, some the wild and crazy side, a few the sentimental side and even less the intellectual side.

But where my thoughts on this differ from Momma Cwowe is that I think even the friends who have drug me down in certain situations have taught me valuable lessons. I have always thought it is better to live and learn than sit and wonder. There aren’t many things I haven’t tried at least once in my life. Of course, after trying a lot of activities I decided that once was enough, and I am thankful for that. If I never did it, I never would have known. Better to live and learn than to have never lived at all.

It’s funny though – out of all those friends, and band-mates and co-workers there is one person – and I mean ONLY one – that has ever truly “got” me. That blows my mind. I use to not believe in the idea of a soul-mate – or of a single person that you were meant to be with. But life has shown me that this is a reality. Sure, there are people that know you, and as we change we go through friends and groups of people. But to have one person that knows, understands and accepts you – that stands by your side no matter what life throws at you – it is truly a thing of beauty. The scariest part is that so many people can go through life and never find that person. It is nice to know my seeking is done.

Maybe that social animal that lived in me was just my way of seeking out that person – the person that completes me, that makes me feel whole, that makes me want to be a better man. I hope I can live up to those expectations. I hope I can continue to be the person she wants me to be – or knows I can be. As Kenny Chesney said, some things just don’t happen twice. Finding your soul mate is one of those things. Hold on to them, cherish them, appreciate them and love them unconditionally. We don’t know how much time we have here, or when it will be up. Make sure you treat everyone as if it was the last time you will ever see them. You never know when you, or they, might be gone.

And when they are gone, you feel empty and hollow. You always carry them with you – in your mind, in your heart – you see them in the places you go and the things you do. On the menus at your favorite restaurant and in the lyrics of the songs you love. If you are lucky – you get them back. But in truth, they never actually leave you at all – they are always there, guiding you, holding you – carrying you just as they always have, driving you down the winding roads of life.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote that “Riding in a taxi one afternoon between very tall buildings under a mauve and rose sky, I began to bawl because I had everything I wanted and I knew I would never be so happy again.” F. Scott is missing the big picture – happiness is not fleeting. It is a state of mind – not a tangible item we put our hands around. That happiness is always there – inside of you even after those things and people have moved on like a storm blowing through a small Alabama town. Hold on to what it is you love. The world around us is constantly changing, evolving. But no person, no thing, no force of nature – can take what we keep inside. Holding on to those feelings, those emotions – that is what happiness is. The memories you keep in a safe place, the thoughts you have that are unique and special to you – that no one else has – that is what never leaves. That is happiness.

I am so thankful she is back, but I realize now that she was never really gone. She was with me all along. She watched as I rode this roller coaster – up and down, over and over as I struggled to find me. And then, when it was time, she came back and saved me. That’s a memory I have tucked deep back inside, along with all the others that will keep her with me forever and ever.

In March of this year, I blew out my knee. Then in April I woke up to find my wife and children gone. A month later I found myself in a jail cell. To add insult to injury, a month after that I lost a $70,000 a year job. I thought I was finished – but what I didn’t see, or couldn’t realize, was that life had different plans for Russell Crowe.

The longer I make my way through this existence, the more clear things seem to me. I use to think a mistake meant that something was gone – that I had lost something I could never get back. But I am realizing that a mistake or bad decision often is simply a way of life telling you “not now” – or to take a different approach. And believe me; I have made some bad decisions.

But it seems more and more as I sit back and look at it, that life has a peculiar way of working in circles and always taking you back to the places, people and things that you are meant to be with. No matter how much you try and escape yourself – you simply cannot fight that power. But if you open yourself up to this, and look for the positive in this experience – it can be life changing.

As Albert Schweitzer said, “In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.   It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”

I have been fortunate to meet so many people over the last 6 months who have rekindled my fire – who have taught me about me – and about what it means to really, truly be alive. To love and long, to be open and honest with yourself, to hurt and heal, to be the person you were meant to become. My ends were eerily easy to see – a prison cell, a mental hospital, a ditch or dead. But a force more powerful than me gave me new people to learn from, as well as reacquainting me with old ones that I continue to learn from and who reignite the fires in my soul.

As I sit every morning and stare at this computer screen debating on what to write, and I can’t help but think about when I was trying to do this one year ago. My life was a blank slate – I couldn’t express my feelings or thoughts, they were smothered by my addiction, by my bad decisions and by my fears and misery. I was a slave to life and to the monotonous grind of working in a place you hate. Now when I look at that same screen the possibilities are endless and the opportunities are completely open. I guess the blog writing is simply a metaphor for my life.

So here I am, full circle back to the wide-eyed young man I was 12 years ago, albeit a little wiser for the times. I am full of energy, passion and zest for each day and breath I take. It was a strange lesson life gave me – what it took to get back to this place. But it was never more than I could handle. I was tested, and I passed. I have found the things, people and places that make me who I am and who I want to be. I am forever indebted to those trials and tribulations for taking me full circle – and helping me find the person I lost many years ago. I thank each and every one of you – you know who you are – for helping save me. I am forever in your debt.