My visit to Los Angeles was full of wonderful connections of old and new friends alike. It was hard to say goodbye but I left with the knowledge that I am welcome to come visit again or even move in for an extended stay. It warmed my heart to know that some of my oldest friends are still some of my dearest friends after all these years.

There is a beach on the malibu coast that used to be private but now has public access. It's called El Matador.

I rode the waves there yesterday and it was glorious. I sobbed tears of joy to be fully alive and bobbing like a cork in my beloved ocean, temporarily free from my battles in life.

Last night, at an amazing neighborhood/school reunion - I enjoyed endless oxytocin hugs from women I had not seen in forever as we shared our stories of life and love.

Nice to sneak in a quick look at our community and see my on line friends still in touch and sharing.

God is doing for me what I cannot do for myself.

I can't wait for this last test today to be done. I feel like I have been shirking my responsibilities as CFO (Chief Fun Officer) of ReUniting. I leave for my old home town of Los Angeles tomorrow for a week of fun, relaxation and visiting with friends, old and new. I will also get to see an international myeloma specialist to discuss my most recent rest results.

Things have been a little intense, even a little crazy recently. I set up a new recovery meeting on Monday nights and was honored to be the only person in attendance last night.

It is not a problem at all as I heard a story recently about a man that ran a meeting for one year all by himself - he received the greatest gift of all from time spent in reading, meditation and prayer - his sobriety.

It's a quiet Monday morning and I have been busy with mundane chores around the house. I took some time earlier in the day to improve my conscious contact with God and received confirmation on my path in life at this time.

is the way my therapist explained it today. It made sense then - it makes even more sense now that I have had time to reflect.

The basic premise as I understand it is that people have a need "to live, to love, to learn, and to leave a legacy". I can use this approach to move beyond "urgency addiction" (as if I needed another addiction label) and to take a more measured approach and maybe even stop and smell a few roses along the way.

As the saying goes - believe it is attributed to Richard Bach of Jonathan Livingston Seagull fame:

So here I sit, only one day after the world seemed so full of possibilities and I am just now recovering from feelings of deep grief earlier this morning, a sense of loss for my marriage and family and the way things used to be.

It is a necessary part of the cycle of grief that I know so well: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and ultimately, acceptance.

The bonus room is up over our garage separated from the house by a covered breezeway. My first night is split between trying to be comfortable on the couch and then ending up in a courderoy bean bag chair that allows me to do my typical roll from side to side. I believe that I sleep soundly and the morning sun streaming in the windows greets me early the next day. I survey the room and make peace with my new home, realizing how little time I have spent in this space, the exclusive province of our kids, with parents mostly off limits.

It's the first day of the rest of my life after my first night at home.

I find myself in a relatively good place sexually - over 2 weeks since Laurie and I had sex and more impressively, no masturbation for comfort over the 2 week period - in spite of some intense emotional pain during the same period.

I see my therapist later today - should be an interesting discussion with so much going on right now.

I knew that this 4th of July was destined to be special but I had no idea just exactly how.

My musical project in New York has taken on a life of its own and so many good opportunities to play and record music have materialized that instead of flying home on the 4th, I extended my return to Monday.

In those rare, quiet moments afforded to me, I browsed Reuniting and consulted the Oracle for continuing insight on my circumstance. The advice is uncanny in its accuracy.