https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FQLW4G3N/
You write about feeling lost even though your life looked
successful. How did that feeling begin to show up in your daily life?
For me it was finding ways to avoid my pain by turning to
excessiveness. This included food, drink and trying to experience the “best” of
the material world even if I still felt empty afterwards. I was trying to use
money to fill a heart that was craving both love and peace.
In the introduction, you talk about closing off your heart.
What helped you notice that this was happening?
While I’ve always been an introvert and introspective, this
“closing off of my heart” began when I realized I was gay. At 12, I made the
decision that I needed to keep my sexuality a secret in order to protect my
status and reputation as an outstanding
young man deeply involved in church, scouting, school, etc.
This life of not sharing my heart became second nature and
in a culture where men don’t share their feelings, and most people are consumed
with their own lives it wasn’t hard to closet my heart.
You describe shame, fear, and sadness as common human
struggles. Which of these was the hardest for you to face?
While they all have the possibility to diminish our full potential, shame and fear were especially hard for me to overcome because I tied my sense of self-worth to my reputation and my income. Letting go of what other people think about me or defining my sense of worth by something other than my job were and are still challenging at times.
You mention that you tied your value to what you owned. When
did you first start to question that belief?
I began to realize in my fifties that no amount of stuff was
ever going to bring me peace. Everything I spent my life accumulating would be
left here in this world when I pass, and I didn’t want my life to be only about
things. I also came to understand that my professional life wasn’t about
helping others but only about making money for pharmaceutical drug companies
and myself. Now believing that I added nothing of real value to the world and
probably did just the opposite.
The move to Las Vegas created a big change in your life. How
did leaving Chicago affect your view of yourself?
For me, Vegas allowed me the opportunity to examine every
aspect that I used to define myself. A highly educated professional, a
successful businessperson, a cat daddy, a committed partner, son, uncle, friend,
etc. All labels that will be left here in this world when I leave. In Vegas,
everything about my life was laid bare, until I finally reached out to the
eternal love planted within all our hearts. I came to believe in the highest
power of all Love.
You say you were spiritually dead. What moments or
experiences began to wake something up in you again?
For me, it was a series of events. Some involved loss like
losing my job at fifty-two, losing my support network when we moved to Vegas
and definitely the loss of our beloved cat. Then there were the moments that I
realized that I had put my faith in human institutions I was told to trust
growing up including our government, the media and even religion. Lastly, there
was this false faith in myself. Thinking that I could find peace in materialism
and my achievements, as opposed to Love which at its core is spiritual. Love is
the origin of all life, including mine.
You describe Las Vegas as a place built around fun and
distraction. How did living there influence your search for God?
I think living in Vegas was more of a metaphor for me in
terms of rediscovering my spirituality in a city that symbolizes materialism.
It’s certainly not a place you think of to awaken your relationship with God.
Symbolically though, Vegas sits in the middle of a desert wilderness. A theme
that Biblical writers have always used to describe to both redemption and
struggle and rebirth. A suitable setting that I hope reminds people that God’s
love is at work anywhere and everywhere. Even in our hearts and even in Vegas.
You write about wanting humility like a child. What did
learning humility look like for you?
It meant I don’t have to be “right” all the time (because
I’m not). It meant I don’t have to know everything (because I can’t). It meant I
don’t have to compete with a world that values stuff and status (because it’s a
false reality that never brought me or anyone a sense of genuine peace).
You say this book is about shared human experience. How do
you hope readers see themselves in your story?
Because God is love, no one is beyond redemption and
grace. My hope is that readers realize we’re all broken and damaged. We’ve all
been hurt and harmed by others, and we’ve hurt and harmed others as well. But
love is never about performance. God still loves you even when we fail, which
we all will. God has and will always love you, but this relationship can only bear
fruit when we humble our egos and surrender our selfishness.
What advice would you offer to people looking to deepen
their spiritual life?
Start by asking why. Why is the world the way that it is?
What I can I do to create more love in the world? Do my actions align with my
beliefs? Am I surrounding myself with other people who share my values? What
can learn from others who have gone before me?