One choice at a time

 We're planning to attend the AA International Convention in Vancouver, BC this summer, looking forward to seeing friends from around the country as well as those we haven't met yet. I've been to every one since I got sober (Seattle, San Diego, Minneapolis, Toronto, San Antonio, Atlanta), even making a visit to Intergroup in Detroit in 2022, after the covid-cancellation of the 2020 Convention. I think about the excitement of those early trips, stunned by the power of 50,000 reciting the Serenity Prayer together. Sometimes crowds can be a bit much these days, but with a group of AA's and Alanon'ds, the vibe is definitely more mellow that some large groups I've been in at concerts and the like. I do appreciate and value the coming together, the celebration of lives that maybe wouldn't have continued were it not for getting sober. 

Whenever I hear someone complain about getting older, I remind them that it is a privilege denied many, especially after learning about a recent suicide of a member of our community. Depression is such a dreadful illness. I didn't know the person, except in passing, but I've been hit with the grief of knowing how very, very low someone must feel if the only way out they can see is to end it all. From listening to others who've lost someone that way, and in my years working in the field, it seems that sometimes that decision is a well-thought-out plan, and sometimes spur of the moment, both equally heartbreaking. As I used to hear in meetings, if I kill myself now, I'm killing the wrong person, implying that with perspective and distance, I change. None of which makes a difference now, when the deed is done.  And while this wasn't the case with the current loss, a big "BS" and "shame on you" to the bleeding deacon who tells their sponsee that the Steps will fix everything.

On another note altogether, I was chastised for my "Go with the flow" post last week, by someone who strongly feels that is not the correct response to the current state of the nation. Exhaling, I can see where they're coming from and feel strongly myself that AA/Alanon has no opinion on outside issues, though I myself certainly do. And while these postings are not AA/Alanon, they are my attempts to practice the principles in all my affairs, and to allow you, dear reader, to do the same, whether we have the same political, religious/spiritual, or health related beliefs or not. A friend who thinks differently that I do recently called me in tears because they were afraid of losing a friendship with someone who believes differently. These are challenging times. What I keep reading, and coming back to myself, is the Serenity Prayer and the absolute importance of staying centered, being kind in my sphere, and stepping up where called. I'm loosely reminded of when I worked with teens in a residential program, many of whom were going home to tough situations. We'd help them devise a plan, as in "What will you do to stay safe and sober when all hell breaks loose at home?" I cannot, or rather will not, live in outrage, 14 on a scale of 1-10, which renders me useless. My primary purpose is to stay sober, physically and emotionally, and to be of service, one day, one choice at a time, in the rooms and out. 

How are you of service today, in big ways and in small? Is there someone in your sphere who could use a little extra support this week? How about you? How will you practice self-care today?

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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 hard copy mailed to you). Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for local folks.

Go with the flow

 

"Life is amazing. And then it's awful. And then it's amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it's ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That's just living a heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it's breathtakingly beautiful."

L.R. Knost

As one who was addicted to stimulants, I was hopeful that "happy, joyous and free" meant all day, every day. Later, when I heard about the runner's high, I waited for the jolt of energy, sadly learning that the "high" referenced was of the more mellow, all-is-well variety. As I've heard others say, I'd sometimes wonder where the cash and prizes were kept, the unicorns and rainbows of my imagined cartoon universe. Alas, life is amazing and then awful, and sometimes just is, and today that's ok when I remember that every shift in mood doesn't require an inventory.

Case in point - last week I did a 45-minute share at a good meeting out of Pittsburg. Because of the length, I spent a fair amount of time in the "what it was like" portion of the story - claiming my seat, as we say, though I do hope that the bulk of the share was "what it's like now." Anyhow, the next day, I felt flat, with some reflection that I came to understand was grief. The three men I was in relationship with before sobriety are all dead - one from an overdose, one the result of alcoholism, and one from lung cancer. Good men, all of them. Maybe not right for me in the long run, but decent human beings, and except for the man who overdosed, I was able to make living amends, over time (vs the desperate "I'm sorry!" attempt of early sobriety). Life marches on, until it doesn't.

I've learned this week of two deaths - one an older guy with 44 years sober, and another, a man younger than me who was very active in the recovery community. Again and again, we just never know. 

As I think about several friends who are in big life transitions, I'm reminded that change is the nature of life, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. For countless generations, there were guides to escort Muslims to the hajj in Mecca. and now there is google-maps. "Red Cap" porters at airports or train stations lost their profession to rolling suitcases. A niece lost her graphic arts job to a computer. I read about people worried that their jobs will go away with a shift to green energy. Yeah, probably. and change is the nature of life, whether I like the idea of AI taking over or not.

I can better cope with change when I'm in at least some control of the process. It's been those rug-pulled-out-from-under-me upsets that get me in a tizzy, whether a relationship ending unexpectedly (but do they really?) or an employer going belly-up, or someone dying that I thought would live forever. We used to say, "Go with the flow, man" and that still applies (minus the reefer), though it's sometimes hard for me to initially recognize when I'm swimming upstream. 

Will I ever get to the place where acceptance is my first thought? Where detachment comes naturally? When I intuitively remember to keep my mouth shut (WAIT - why am I talking?). Progress, not perfection, one step at a time. 

What transitions may be happening in your life, from the change of seasons to a change in circumstance? How do you remember to "go with the flow" these days, when you might rather be in charge?

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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 hard copy mailed to you). Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for local folks.

 

 

Fears vs Reality

 

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”

 — Edith Wharton

Sometimes I don't even know where the matches are to light the darned candle, but this is a good reminder that actions, not intentions, are my contribution to either the solution or the problem. As Marieanne Williams once wrote, it's when I allow myself to go unconscious with my motives that I get myself in trouble. Know thyself...to thine own self be true... work the Steps...

I was in a meeting this week where the topic veered to "fear," leading me to look up the dictionary meaning of the word: An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat; a primal emotion that warns us of danger and helps us protect ourselves. I realized, as I listened to others, and reviewed my own internal fears list, that I tend more towards anxiety, defined as a natural human emotion characterized by feelings of unease, worry or fear, often stemming from anticipation of danger or a stressful situation. Bingo, with anticipation the operative word, understanding that my interpretation of "danger" may be a bit skewed. 

This further came to light when I interacted with a friend who recently completed the grand adventure I'll be doing in May. I shared with her that I'm excited and a bit nervous, to which she replied, "Is there anything specific making you nervous?" I had to think about that - what is real and what is fantasy? What is my imagination and what has bearing in reality? Will the airplane fall out of the sky? Probably not, though all the recent air mishaps make me wonder. Will I die on a street corner in a foreign land? Probably not. I can do my best to leave my desk in order, but the rest isn't up to me. (A month or so before my mother died, I asked if she'd mind if I went to visit a friend out-of-state. She said "no" and that if she died while I was away, she wouldn't know the difference anyway.)

It is a good reminder, when in the grip of free-floating anxiety, to take a breath and use the Serenity Prayer, or fear inventory from the Big Book, to hone in on what I might be able to change. If my attitude is all I can actually change, I have the tools to move me in that direction: talking about my secret (fear/anxiety isn't one of the pretty emotions) with a sponsor or trusted other; use the "god box" to help let go; list what concerns me and cross out all the items that are not valid; turn off the news; trust the process, whatever that process may be for any given situation.

And in the meantime, chop wood and carry water. especially when I feel my brain pushing against the constraints of ODAT. Tomorrow will get here soon enough. 

If you were to do a fears inventory today, what would you write? Which of those items are real and which are imagined? How do you move towards acceptance of the moment, and discern the things you cannot change vs those you can?

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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 hard copy mailed to you). Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for local folks.

Transitions

 I'm thinking this week about the cycle of life as one friend marks the anniversary of her husband's passing, another hits a sobriety milestone, and yet another says goodbye to a beloved four-legged family member. We spent time with family over a long weekend visit - the patriarch, a frail 95 years old and the youngest in first grade. Watching the three cousins frolic on the beach, I was reminded that some of my happiest memories are of times on the beach with my own cousins, shrieking and jumping and trying to dig our way to the other side of the world. That sometimes seems like only yesterday, and other times like a hazy dream. 

I suppose I'm in the autumn of my life, not quite ready to claim winter, though probably getting close. Years ago, I read a lovely poem where the author wrote with melancholy about spring, knowing that each rotation of the earth brought him closer to his final spring. Not exactly the same, but I do remember during my last year working, thinking, "Oh, this is the last time I'll have to cover during a snowstorm," or "This is the last person I'll hire and train," and then the very final, " This is my last drive to work." A friend who is older than I often points out that life becomes a series of "lasts" - last hike, last making love, last walk, last garden. Maybe, for many, that comes gradually, so gradual that it isn't fully noticed except in retrospect. More reason to pay attention, to big events and small.

On another note, sometimes when I leave my gym, I see a person or two waiting for the pot shop to open, sunglasses on perhaps, even though it is gray morning, sitting in their vehicle or on the nearby apartment steps. I have to laugh with friends - back in our day, we had to sneak around to buy marijuana, from the creepy guy in the park, or the fellows in the corner of the school cafeteria. The times, they have changed, though I do remember sitting in the grocery store parking lot, having been up all night, waiting for 7am to buy more beer, so not much different than those waiting for their pot. I don't know that it still happens, being way too old and very sober, but upon turning 21, we applied for an ID card from the Oregon Liquor Control Commission (OLCC) that was our passport to legal drinking. I hadn't yet learned to drive when I got mine, but I'd certainly learned how to drink, or should I say, knew how to get drunk. 

Rites of passage, initially marking one's expansion in the world (school, driver's license, legal drink, career, maybe children) and at this stage, more of a contraction. Retirement could be either - the ending of one phase and the beginning of another. I'm now convinced that life is a series of transitions - youth to old age, work life to retirement, shifting goals and priorities, knowing that at least some of which lies ahead involves loss. 

But what lies ahead also involves love and laughter. On our visit to family, we also got to spend time with our home-away-from home group family, hitting an AM meeting with coffee after, then crossing a bridge to a nooner and lunch with more friends. It is great seeing people outside the tiny zoom squares, sharing an actual hug, looking each other in the eye to say, "I'm so glad to see you." 

And the beat goes on. If aging is truly a series of "lasts," how will you celebrate and make note of all that is real and good today? What rites of passage lie ahead for you? How do you stay in the moment, while remaining aware of inevitable transitions?

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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 hard copy mailed to you). Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for local folks.