Traditions

 After an emotional few weeks, I'm feeling re-centered and at peace. Amazing, the healing power of actually feeling the feelings rather than ignoring them (which never really works). I now feel prepared and open to experiencing the positives of the holiday season - time with friends and family, enjoying neighborhood lights and our own modified decorations (our 2 cats, while technically not kittens, are still very energetic and curious). I'll also spend extra time with my journal, reflecting on this year just passed and the one ahead. I don't do resolutions, per se, but I do generally have ideas and urges towards what I'd like to do and how I'd like to be in the coming calendar year, which coincides with my sober date. 

I am an elder, in both human years and recovery. What does that mean? A few years ago now I was in a meeting sitting next to a newer woman I knew. As a long-timer shared on and on, she leaned over and whispered, "Do all old timers talk a lot?" Dear HP, I hope not - at least I hope I'm not one who does. "Relieve me of the bondage of self," or "Let me be aware if I drift into Bleeding Deacon land." Yes, I've been sober a long time - I know how to keep the plug in the jug, for today - and I don't know what is best for you. I can share my experience, which is all I really have. Let me remember that I don't need to try to impart the sum total of my sober wisdom to the newcomer in one sitting. Chances are, they'll only hear part of it anyway, the part about "keep coming back."

"Remember when you wanted what you now have?" I ran across that quote in one of my notebooks, and yes, I do remember wishing for a relatively simple life that looked remarkably like how I live today. There is something to be said for intention, spoken or otherwise, as well as the sometimes nameless longing that quietly propels me in one direction or another. 

A young cousin is being propelled halfway across the world, moving with her youngest son to an island in the Indian Ocean as a mission of some sort or another. Good for her. She wondered what her grandmother (my aunt) would think. I think she'd be pleased. Taking a leap of faith, leaving what you know to see what the Universe has in store - heck yes! It's semi-hilarious that hers was the only diaper I've ever changed, back in 1972, and here she is, in her 50's setting out for a faraway port. Rock on.

In a meeting this week, the chair spoke to long term sobriety, wondering if there is more to learn and know at this point. For me, that is related to aging, as I, and my peers, navigate getting old. A friend had to cancel a date recently, due to health issues, reminding me that as I age, so do my friends. We are fortunate, and that can mean changes in how and when we interact (like not much driving after dark). The beat goes on, until it doesn't. I've had many experiences over the years of old-timers dying, of helping someone move into assisted living, of showing up at the hospital. May we continue to do together what we cannot do alone. 

This weekend, after walking/jogging a holiday 10k, we had friends over in an incarnation of a gathering I started in about 1987, and next week will be a Solstice meeting. I am nothing if not consistent, an appreciator of tradition. Particulars may ebb and flow, but/and I like having things to look forward to, and I am my mother's daughter - part of what can make holiday time wistful is the memory of Mom's Christmas Eve party, held from 1973 until 2011, watching cousins grow up, neighbors come and go, Mom getting "gussied up" for company, favorite treats on the table... In a time in the world that can feel so haywire and hurtful, I am comforted by the ritual of my holiday traditions. 

What traditions do you follow this time of year, and/or what have you let go of as no longer nourishing? As an elder, what do you see as your role in the program? Are there any dreams or longings whispering to you as a new year approaches? How might you express gratitude for another calendar year sober?

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Time for a year end inventory?   The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or who prefer it, or hard copy mailed to you). 

Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. A reminder that the workbook is available at Portland Area Intergroup, 825 NE 20th. for local folks. And Jackie, of TMar, has a supply as well, if you're at a conference where they have a booth

Dreams and messages

 My first husband's sister was in my pre-waking dream last Friday. We chatted, and I asked if she knew her brother had died. Yes, she knew - obviously - and I remembered that she was gone too. As she started to walk away, I called her back and asked that she say "hello" to my mom and dad, and tell them I loved them. 

I got myself up and out on a rainy morning, and when I walked into my 7am Alanon group, with the church hall set up for a function, my dad's name was among the placards at various place settings. Guess where I sat? 

My "god shots" aren't always so blatant, and they don't seem to come as often as in early sobriety when even the sun coming up in the morning felt like a message from the cosmos. Maybe it's because life got more complicated the longer I was sober, with work and home and blah, blah, blah. Maybe it's because I allow my brain to stay busy, processing one emotion or another, planning this task or that. What I know today is that I've been in a place where the door to grieving has been open and these two signs are reminders that my departed loved ones really are near, as long as I pause to remember.

My brother has been calling frequently, and where before I might've let it go to voice mail if I was in a zoom meeting or otherwise engaged, I now pick up. He's usually just got a little observation or funny thing from his day to share and that's just fine. He's one of the only people I know who doesn't have a cell phone, so it's not like he can text somebody to say "hey" so I will answer my phone, and share my own little observations or funny thing from the day as he adjusts to life as a widower. The good news is that I like him and we get along well. I know that's a gift not everyone enjoys with their siblings.

That meeting on Friday was on the topic of grieving, and boy howdy, do we AA's and Alanons know a thing or two about grief. Our departed loved ones, yes, but also the loss of a dream for ourselves or others, dear pets, who are family members in their own right, losses related to health. One person shared about feeling grief as they get close to their quit date for retirement. I was able to share my process with them after the meeting, how I wrote an employment inventory of sorts, and sent thank you cards to several past supervisors. And in the woo-woo department, how I ran into the couple who gave me the first job in my field, having not seen them for 20 years. Kind of like with the amends process, people show up when it's time (in real life or in my dreams).

I'm making an effort to get re-established at my long-ago home group, attending most weeks and raising my hand to share. It's one of those meetings where they turn down the lights after the readings. It would be very easy to sit in the dark in the back row, greeting the people on either side, out of eyesight of the chair person. And, it's a process. Newcomers rightly get a fair amount of attention, and sometimes the person with time who's just moved to town (though I consistently hear those folks have to make a concerted effort to connect). But the old timer who sits quietly, who knows maybe one or two in the room? It's up to me to reach out, to "grow or go," to join the small throng shaking hands with the new person. I have signed up to chair for my anniversary... and I'll keep coming back.

How does synchronicity reach you today? How do you, or will you, make space for the still, small voice, especially in what can feel like a busy time of year? Who might benefit from your reaching out to them, just to say "hello"?

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Time for a year end inventory?   The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or who prefer it, or hard copy mailed to you). 

Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. A reminder that the workbook is available at Portland Area Intergroup, 825 NE 20th. for local folks. And Jackie, of TMar, has a supply as well, if you're at a conference where they have a booth

A season of memories

 In my regular Wednesday meeting, on Thanksgiving eve, I found myself misty as I thought about Thanksgiving, 1985 sitting across from my mother at the holiday table.  At that point, I'd recently signed myself out of a hospital treatment program, and my brother had ratted me out to Mom, i.e. the true extent of what I'd been doing to myself. With tears in her eyes, she looked at me and said, "I just don't understand." 

Forward to Thanksgiving, 1986 and I sat at the same table, this time with nearly 11 months sobriety, a new friend from treatment there, as well as "Boxcar Leonard," the old-timer who was such an inspiration with his "Will power will not keep you sober, but want power will" refrain. What an amazingly huge difference in such a short period of time. I am one of the fortunate ones who took to this thing, and connected with others who felt the same. 

I was in a good Alanon meeting this week on the topic of choices. In the moment, I don't always recognize that I have a choice to respond (or not) rather than react. I am beyond grateful that we don't have active alcoholism in our lives today, and there can be a fair amount of "ism's" floating around, especially in this busy time of year when something as simple as going to the grocery store takes on a frenzy with increased traffic on the roads and people in the aisles. Always, always my HALTs come in to play. I had a boss once who said that when someone was on her last nerve, she pretended she was watching a TV show - a bad comedy perhaps - to help her detach from her reaction. "How important is it?" is my current favorite slogan.

My sister-in-law passed this weekend, with my brother breathing a sigh of relief, aware that a new chapter begins. I'm feeling sad, and a bit weepy. We really were not close, and she was part of the family for 40-plus years, my brother's wife. I cry for his loss. I cry for the loss of another family member. I cry for all those who are no longer here, those who are my history, the seeming-stability of those around the holiday table, the laughter shared, good meals (she was an excellent cook). Each new loss tends to connect to all previous losses, even if just for a minute. And, I know what grief feels like. I know about the business end of death, with forms and phone calls to be made. And I know about that quiet place that now feels both empty and full. 

I'm sure my brother will be fine. He's a loner, though acknowledges he does need people - not too many and not too often, but social interaction is a good thing. I can be a good sister, even when, or especially when he doesn't want to talk about loss. I learned that with my mom - I'm a good 12 Step emotional processor. She was born in 1926 and kept many of her feelings to herself. 

The day after my sister-in-law passed, my dear friend's father died, again, not unexpected, while a seismic shift for the family. These recent losses, including my eldest cousin a few months ago, and a longtime AA member in recent weeks, cause me to feel the earth shift just a bit, moving me and my generation a wee bit closer to the edge where it will be our turn. Getting older is certainly not all doom and gloom, and there is a gravity to loss, a recognition of the inevitable that was below the surface even a few years ago.

And, this is the season of memories - some good, some not so good, but definitely a time of remembering. Listening to one of my playlists the other day, I found myself literally weeping to an old Glen Miller song that my mother loved. This is the time of year that my ancestors, old and newer, feel closest. I don't need to succumb to maudlin, but I can acknowledge what my heart is telling me. As we hear, "Don't bother looking for your feelings - they'll find you." It's when I try to ignore, out run, or talk myself out of it that I wind up in knots. So, I will say, "Hello Mom and Dad. I miss you, and Dad, the conversations we never got to have." I can hold my people close, never skipping an opportunity to say, "I love you," because the time will come, on their end or mine, that won't be possible - in this realm anyway.

I'm sounding more blue than I actually feel. I have noticed over the years that feelings ebb and flow, especially during holidays or the changing of seasons. Noticing, sticking close to program (never a bad idea), striving for gentleness with myself and others, as well as reminding newer folks of the Bermuda Triangle we're in the midst of, I know that this too shall pass with joy and laughter, and yes, a few tears.

How do the seasons hit you? How can you practice compassion, with yourself and others, this time of year and always? Where will you create quite moments in order to hear and honor your feelings?

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It's nearing the time of year you may want to undertake an inventory...  The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or who prefer it, or hard copy mailed to you). 

Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. A reminder that the workbook is available at Portland Area Intergroup, 825 NE 20th. for local folks. And Jackie, of TMar, has a supply as well, if you're at a conference where they have a booth