Photo by Samantha B
I just read an article on Rich Clune, of the Nashville Predators that told the story of his battle with alcohol and drug addiction. Most importantly, the story spoke of redemption, recovery, and dream chasing. It seems like he needed to face his own demon/demons, and slay his greatest adversary before he could accomplish his goal of playing in the NHL. It seems that he had to slay this nefarious shadow that had haunted him for so many years before he could become the true version of himself, the one that had been in there all along.
I don't know Rich Clune, but I played against him when he played for the Manchester Monarchs. We had a pretty good battle once, and punched each other in the face a few times. Clune is one of those hockey players who plays with an edge. He is quick to shed his gloves. He knows he must fight for his team, his name, and his honor. Ice Hockey offers this noble position of bare-knuckle pugilist, and when the heart is exposed, and each beating ventricle reverberates and pulses to the admiration of adoring fans, something special happens. That player is embraced and loved, honored and cherished.
But like any volatile force, “as above, so below”, and a dark specter haunts some of the noble warriors who brandish this sword. We have heard the stories of fighters who battle addiction, depression, alcohol binges, pill-popping—savage living, in a savage world. Early in my career in pro hockey, a tough guy took me under his wing and showed me the ins and outs of hockey fighting. I worked with him after practices and discussed hockey fighting as an art, a philosophy. We went to the depths and attacked it from all angles. I remember one discussion about how to deal with the fact that you are going to be fighting a lot, against other grown men who know how to fight, and are good at it. There is stress and anxiety, and this comes with the territory. He told me that all fighters had to have some way to take the edge off. Unfortunately, a lot of these methods manifest as destructive tendencies and drug abuse.
And it makes sense. When you exist in a cloud of addiction, you don't think about anything except that addiction. And your thoughts rain down in a steady drizzle of dreary droplets, gathering in pools that rise higher and higher until you don't have to think about your problems anymore. But eventually, you reach the point of no return, the moment of saturation. And this is a truly drowning current, a white-capped rapid assault of your very being.
But like any volatile force, “as above, so below”, and a dark specter haunts some of the noble warriors who brandish this sword. We have heard the stories of fighters who battle addiction, depression, alcohol binges, pill-popping—savage living, in a savage world. Early in my career in pro hockey, a tough guy took me under his wing and showed me the ins and outs of hockey fighting. I worked with him after practices and discussed hockey fighting as an art, a philosophy. We went to the depths and attacked it from all angles. I remember one discussion about how to deal with the fact that you are going to be fighting a lot, against other grown men who know how to fight, and are good at it. There is stress and anxiety, and this comes with the territory. He told me that all fighters had to have some way to take the edge off. Unfortunately, a lot of these methods manifest as destructive tendencies and drug abuse.
And it makes sense. When you exist in a cloud of addiction, you don't think about anything except that addiction. And your thoughts rain down in a steady drizzle of dreary droplets, gathering in pools that rise higher and higher until you don't have to think about your problems anymore. But eventually, you reach the point of no return, the moment of saturation. And this is a truly drowning current, a white-capped rapid assault of your very being.
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I was there three years ago, submerged in the murky depths of some dark oceanic trench, frothing back and forth from one pinch of chewing tobacco to the next. That's how I dealt with my reality. What once started as an adventurous pinch stuffed in the lip, had somehow turned into a full-blown nicotine addiction, and an hour surely wouldn't pass without those toxic droplets trickling through my blood stream.
That was the adversary I needed to slay. It was my demon. The funny thing about embarking on such a valiant quest is that once you face your demon, and make your intentions known that you are here to kill it, you have an epiphany, and realize that the adversary is really YOU.
It's some vile version of you battling against the true version of you, who had been there all along but had been overtaken by this drowning force. And if you focus in on what you want and what you are willing to do to release the true and noble version of you, the adversary stands no chance.
I learned early on how dangerous the rocky cliff of drug addiction is. I beat it, and made a vow that I would never go back to that world, or that life, ever again. And three years ago when I came back to North America to play hockey, after two years overseas in Europe, I was an entirely different person. I was that true version of me that had been in there all along, somewhere in there, but covered in cancerous clouds since age seventeen when I first picked up a can of dip.
I had to relearn everything. I especially had to relearn how to deal with stress. It used to be such an easy fix. All I had to do was toss some finely cut shreds of tobacco into my lips, and the nicotine would seep through the delicate membrane of my inner lip, and like magic, enter my bloodstream and make everything seem alright, make everything tolerable, everything—it was my everything.
That was the adversary I needed to slay. It was my demon. The funny thing about embarking on such a valiant quest is that once you face your demon, and make your intentions known that you are here to kill it, you have an epiphany, and realize that the adversary is really YOU.
It's some vile version of you battling against the true version of you, who had been there all along but had been overtaken by this drowning force. And if you focus in on what you want and what you are willing to do to release the true and noble version of you, the adversary stands no chance.
I learned early on how dangerous the rocky cliff of drug addiction is. I beat it, and made a vow that I would never go back to that world, or that life, ever again. And three years ago when I came back to North America to play hockey, after two years overseas in Europe, I was an entirely different person. I was that true version of me that had been in there all along, somewhere in there, but covered in cancerous clouds since age seventeen when I first picked up a can of dip.
I had to relearn everything. I especially had to relearn how to deal with stress. It used to be such an easy fix. All I had to do was toss some finely cut shreds of tobacco into my lips, and the nicotine would seep through the delicate membrane of my inner lip, and like magic, enter my bloodstream and make everything seem alright, make everything tolerable, everything—it was my everything.
Click picture to Buy Customized, Autographed Photos. FREE SHIPPING!
But now I had nothing but my own raw, pure emotions and feelings. And I had to find a way to deal with it. I still felt all the same things anyone feels: fear, anxiety, doubt, you name it. And I remember back to my first year pro when my Fight Mentor told me that fighters needed “something” to take the edge off. I didn't want to ever be an addict again. I knew the next time would kill me. There could never be a next time.
So I got addicted to searching for positive, nutritious things to put into my body and my mind. I hopped on the internet and started searching, and I haven't stopped. My fiancee, Doll, would probably call it an obsession, and I can't argue with her, as I look at the shelf above the sink and see a snaking train of supplements and protein powders. Yes, she thinks I'm crazy because the fridge and pantry are stocked with strange roots, berries, vegetables, and herbs. And there on the bookshelf, are stacks and stacks of books that cover the whole spectrum.
I had gained my freedom. I had become the true version of me, and the true version of me has a particular trait: to constantly look for ways to improve and upgrade. I guess I have a lot of catching up to do after an 11 year nicotine addiction.
During my searching, I stumbled upon a YouTube video about a guy named Jon Kabat-Zinn and this is where I first learned how to meditate. At last, I had found my secret to “taking the edge off”. It happened on a lazy afternoon in the hot summer months, and I watched his video and learned how to meditate for real.
Like anyone, I had tried before. I had crosses my legs and touched my fingers together, focusing intently, like the Ninja Turtles huddled around the campfire as they summon the spirit of Master Splinter. I closed my eyes, trying to drift off to some cosmic plain, while I repeat a mantra, over and over until my ears rang.
I always thought that meditation meant focusing on something as hard as you could. For me, I always focused on my goals, pumping positive affirmations about my hockey ability, and that I can accomplish my dreams and ambitions.
It wasn't until watching the Jon Kabat-Zinn video, that I discovered that the true secret is letting go. Meditation is nothing. It is finding that empty, timeless space where only your breath exists, and your breath seems to have a life force all its own. It goes in, and goes out. In and out.
At first you learn to listen to the breath, to observe it, and get to know it. You pay homage to it, and feel it, and welcome it. Instantly my mind would drift off to my To-Do list, or ingredients I needed to pick up at the grocery store, but every time, I returned to the breath. After a while, I began to feel the ebb and flow of the breath, and it took on an aquatic property, a wave-like drifting mechanism. After some time. I felt my consciousness flash in and out of some kind of room. It was my sanctuary. There was a pool of water there and exposed wood beams and pillars. That's where my breath was. Every time I would lose my grasp on it, and think about an email I had to get out, I would return to the breath and to my sanctuary; the wooden room with the pool of blue water.
Unfortunately, I have fallen out of practice these days, and haven't truly meditated since the summer. But I'm back on board, and I'm going to give it another try tonight. Maybe you are looking for a way to take the edge off to. I'm sharing this video with you, and hope that it brings peace and tranquility into your life. Sometimes we get so caught up in the thick of things that we don't take time to sit and be quiet, and think about nothing, and exist for that time in that empty room, where only your breath resides. Somewhere in that sanctuary is a peace that is attainable with no drugs, chemicals, or destructive forces. This is where I want to be.
Leave a comment below and let us know how it goes. Or if you are a Zen Master, and have any tips for us, please share!
So I got addicted to searching for positive, nutritious things to put into my body and my mind. I hopped on the internet and started searching, and I haven't stopped. My fiancee, Doll, would probably call it an obsession, and I can't argue with her, as I look at the shelf above the sink and see a snaking train of supplements and protein powders. Yes, she thinks I'm crazy because the fridge and pantry are stocked with strange roots, berries, vegetables, and herbs. And there on the bookshelf, are stacks and stacks of books that cover the whole spectrum.
I had gained my freedom. I had become the true version of me, and the true version of me has a particular trait: to constantly look for ways to improve and upgrade. I guess I have a lot of catching up to do after an 11 year nicotine addiction.
During my searching, I stumbled upon a YouTube video about a guy named Jon Kabat-Zinn and this is where I first learned how to meditate. At last, I had found my secret to “taking the edge off”. It happened on a lazy afternoon in the hot summer months, and I watched his video and learned how to meditate for real.
Like anyone, I had tried before. I had crosses my legs and touched my fingers together, focusing intently, like the Ninja Turtles huddled around the campfire as they summon the spirit of Master Splinter. I closed my eyes, trying to drift off to some cosmic plain, while I repeat a mantra, over and over until my ears rang.
I always thought that meditation meant focusing on something as hard as you could. For me, I always focused on my goals, pumping positive affirmations about my hockey ability, and that I can accomplish my dreams and ambitions.
It wasn't until watching the Jon Kabat-Zinn video, that I discovered that the true secret is letting go. Meditation is nothing. It is finding that empty, timeless space where only your breath exists, and your breath seems to have a life force all its own. It goes in, and goes out. In and out.
At first you learn to listen to the breath, to observe it, and get to know it. You pay homage to it, and feel it, and welcome it. Instantly my mind would drift off to my To-Do list, or ingredients I needed to pick up at the grocery store, but every time, I returned to the breath. After a while, I began to feel the ebb and flow of the breath, and it took on an aquatic property, a wave-like drifting mechanism. After some time. I felt my consciousness flash in and out of some kind of room. It was my sanctuary. There was a pool of water there and exposed wood beams and pillars. That's where my breath was. Every time I would lose my grasp on it, and think about an email I had to get out, I would return to the breath and to my sanctuary; the wooden room with the pool of blue water.
Unfortunately, I have fallen out of practice these days, and haven't truly meditated since the summer. But I'm back on board, and I'm going to give it another try tonight. Maybe you are looking for a way to take the edge off to. I'm sharing this video with you, and hope that it brings peace and tranquility into your life. Sometimes we get so caught up in the thick of things that we don't take time to sit and be quiet, and think about nothing, and exist for that time in that empty room, where only your breath resides. Somewhere in that sanctuary is a peace that is attainable with no drugs, chemicals, or destructive forces. This is where I want to be.
Leave a comment below and let us know how it goes. Or if you are a Zen Master, and have any tips for us, please share!
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