What do I truly want?

 I just read a book review that started with "What do I truly want?", a guide for those who might be in jobs or relationships that don't make their heart sing, or otherwise feel at a stalemate. What do I truly want? What indeed?

I want peace on earth, goodwill towards all living creatures. I want the US government to make good on treaties signed with Native American peoples under duress. I want to feel proud of my country, my state, my city. I want to know that differences of opinion about our country, our state, or our city doesn't mean we can't be friends or have civil conversations. I want everyone, everywhere to be able to go to sleep at night without fear and with a full belly. I want glaciers to stop melting. I want business and political leaders to put people and planet before profits.

I want our zucchini plants to produce this year (why am I the only person I know who can't grow zucchini?!). I want the new neighbors across the street to be friendly and the young people next door to be quiet at night. I want my baby brother to get some sort of cosmic gold star for being so loyal to his wife as her dementia worsens. I want all those I drive to their radiation and chemo appointments to sail through treatment with positive outcomes. I want the laundry to fold itself. I want my parents to know that I love them and I'm sorry that in the years of "recovery/discovery" I blamed them for my today's woes. 

I want to live to be a healthy 100, ODAT. I want to grow old with my spouse. I want my stepdaughter's dreams to come true, even the ones she doesn't know yet. I want the new woman in our meeting this week to keep coming back, to catch the fire that is recovery. I want to see the world - not all of it, but those places that whisper to me, especially those that say, "Please come back."

I want to be consistently confident in my abilities - to navigate in new cities and countries, to know when to speak and when to not. How to both enjoy the ice cream and say "no" to food I that doesn't actually feed me. I want to go to sleep at night knowing I did my reasonable best, whether that was out and about, or reading an engaging book, and if I didn't do my best, that I made amends where needed. And at the end of it all, I want to rest easy, knowing I fully participated in my life.

This list shifts and changes over time, sometimes day-to-day, but I want to stay tuned to my joy-meter - what makes my heart sing. Obviously, not every task or every situation calls for bells ringing, but on the whole, I seek contentment and the ability to pay attention when that feels missing.

Something I've realized this past week is that I haven't yet connected to being 70. Someone was saying, "My 30's were great," to which I added, "The 40's and 50's were good too. So are the 60's," catching myself on the "are" great vs "were" great. I am no longer in my 60's and that reality hasn't quite caught up to my psyche. But then again, what is "70" supposed to feel like (or 50's or 60's for that matter)? My mother at 70 seemed old. while my father-in-law in his 80's seemed young. Does it really matter how I feel about my age? I certainly don't fight it. I'm semi-amused at having grown old, though I've been told I don't act my age (again, whatever that means). ODAT I can focus on the here and now, releasing labels and "should's" as I go along. Sure, I've got a bit of arthritis in my hands, and yeah, my knees are sometimes creaky, but I'm of the "use it or lose it" mindset, so I'll keep using it until I can't anymore.

Along those lines, I'm on a quick adventure to Chicago with my travel buddies - a baseball game (Go Cubs!) and the Institute of Art on the docket, exploring a city I haven't been to in decades, with someone who grew up there. This week marks the 5th anniversary of retirement. Will my months and years always be filled with travel? Probably not, but this year I'm enjoying the heck out of it. And while too often these days it feels like the world is going crazy, I do my best to take a deep breath and be part of the solution where I may.

What is on your list, today, of "What I truly want..."?  What makes your heart sing in the here-and-now? If you're retired, is it turning out how you'd hoped? If working, what do you look forward to in your retirement years? Does your inner life match your physical age? How has it felt to hit those milestone years?

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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. Note that I will have a supply with me at the AA International Convention in Vancouver, BC in July. Can't wait!

To thine own self, be true

 I attended a thought-provoking meeting last week, on the topic of "To thine own self be true," a quote from Shakespeare's Hamlet that has been adopted and printed on many AA anniversary medallions. The full quote ends with "And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." So, honesty with myself, first and foremost, and if I'm honest with myself, I can't very well be dishonest with you - if I want to sleep at night.

Neither my spouse or I shared in the meeting, so we had our own "meeting after the meeting," discussing what was triggered for us. Like several in the group, I had no idea what "self" I was to be true to when I first got sober. Many years prior, the meth cook boyfriend had described me as practical. I am very practical, but at the time, hearing that felt foreign. I had little connection to my own spirit. I may have thought I was being true to myself, doing what I wanted when I wanted, but in reality, I was blowing in the wind. 

Our discussion circled around to "the road gets narrower," thinking that perhaps that's because the path is more clearly defined over time. I no longer have to stop and ask myself whether a certain behavior or action is right or wrong. I often go back to Marieanne Williamson's statement that I get myself in trouble when I allow myself to go unconscious with my motives. That happened a lot before getting sober, and sometimes after, but these days rarely comes up. I know myself today, I trust my gut, and I surround myself with people who live with integrity. 

My spouse, a night owl, has, for several years, worked a modified swing shift, which is in keeping with his internal time clock. This summer, he's going in before dawn, the prize being a three-day weekend. Talk about an adjustment, much easier for this early bird than for him. The other day, I'd walked to and from the gym, watered the garden, fixed breakfast, and checked email- all before 8am. I think about the decades I got up at 4:15am in order to run 4-5 miles before work. It took a while after retiring to learn to sleep in just a bit, and that it's OK to wait until the sun is up before walking. It's been 5 years ago this week that I left my job, and I don't regret a second of it. Bored? Never. When did I have time to work?!  But I'm thinking of flexibility during this time of household transition, and how grateful I am, now and always, for the tools of Honesty, Open-mindedness and Willingness (and naps!) 

Speaking of program tools, yesterday was Founder's Day, counted as Dr. Bob's sober date. I am forever grateful for this chance meeting that might've gone any other way if Bob had said "No!" to the proposed conversation with a stranger, or if no one had answered the phone when Bill called looking for someone to work with in order to avoid the temptation of the hotel bar. Chance encounters, random conversations, a left turn or right - it goes back to those monumental situations or events I wrote about last week. This one was definitely monumental, for me and countless others.

Genius musician Sly Stone died this week, he of the soundtrack of my life. He struggled mightily with addiction - oh how terrible the 70's and 80's were for those of us with the disease of addiction, especially those with vast sums of money and lackeys at their beck and call. I was so very happy to read in his autobiography that he'd been clean and sober the last 8-plus years. I was always told, "where there's life, there's hope," meaning it's never too late to find recovery. And as I watch icons and idols age and die, I am grateful for how their talents enriched my life.   

What does "To thine own self be true" mean to you? How has honesty with self and others become part of your life? How do you react or respond to change, whether your choice or imposed?

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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. And note that I will have a supply with me at the AA International Convention in Vancouver, BC in July. Can't wait!

Goodbyes...

 This past week, our monthly Cabal gathered to honor the memory of our friend who'd recently passed, sharing sweet memories with his sister. It is sort of a fluke that I even met his sister, having connected with her Instagram profile without knowing who she was, then seeing her notice of our friend's death. There was no formal service - a lot of water had passed under that bridge - but it felt right to sit in our sacred circle and share stories of laughter and love. We all expressed gratitude for the sense of closure it brought.

My dear father, very much an introvert, specifically did not want any kind of gathering or service when he died, and unfortunately, we followed his wishes. Unfortunately, because we had no formal avenue to process our feelings or for his friends to process theirs (other than me in therapy, three years later). This was before hospice became a thing, so there was just Mom and me and our tears, and my brother closing himself off, and me, drinking myself into a stupor.

Rites and rituals around death are not for the dearly departed. There is a reason all cultures in all times have ceremonies and processes around death. Some may seem minimalistic and some over the top, but we humans crave a way to say "goodbye." In the old days, part of the ritual was spending time with the body, evidence that this person is no longer in their mortal shell. These days, with death having become a business, and so many choosing cremation, that piece has shifted, though I will say that it was good and right that we sat with my mother's body, in her bed, before she was taken away. There was some sort of psychic shift that took place, recognizing that whatever energy it was that made her my mother was no longer there. 

But back to my friend - it felt good to share funny stories from early sobriety, the dances and warm hugs and deep conversations, and for his sister to hear how much he meant to us. To my friends and family who say they don't want "anything" when they die, I say "Fie to you!" You'll be gone, and if your belief that there is nothing afterwards is true, you won't know one way or the other. 

Over the weekend, our bi-monthly cousin's brunch gathered, our first since the eldest of one family passed last month, and included a couple of folks who don't usually attend. So yes, get together to grieve when I'm gone, but more importantly, let's spend time while we're all still here. I don't always say, "I love you," to those that I do, but "Please, join us," or "It's so good to see you," or "Here, sit next to me," all suffice. It felt good to raise a toast to all those not there, including all our parents and too many siblings, each one contributing in some way to who we are today.

And so the beat goes on, as summer approaches. Our neighbor/friends across the street are moving, with an anticipated closing of the house sale at the end of the month (with me being encouraged to pick berries in their backyard in the meantime). A couple of friends and I will go for a walk in the woods tomorrow, before I meet with my grade school pals for our monthly date. And...drumroll... today is the 14th anniversary of our wedding! I look at those photos, making note of the few who are no longer with us, as well as how our social life has changed with covid, retirement, and the passage of time. As I told someone soon after our vows, marriage is way more fun than I'd anticipated. Being older, and having program as our base, makes all the difference - one day at a time.

Have you thought ahead to what you'd like to happen after you die? Does anyone else know your wishes? Thinking of friends and/or family that you may see only occasionally, is there anyone who'd benefit from knowing what they mean to you? How do you envision your summer unfolding (or winter, if you're in the southern hemisphere)?

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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. And note that I will have a supply with me at the AA International Convention in Vancouver, BC in July. Can't wait!

Monumental?

 First of all, huge apologies to those of you who've been leaving comments on these posts. My gmail account hides those comments in a different email folder from regular mail. Sigh. Now that I know where to look, I say, "Thank you," and "Sorry." I truly appreciate the interactions, no matter how untimely I've been!

So after attempting to process my post-Camino feelings, someone recommended a book called, appropriately, Returning from Camino, which I purchased, along with a journal with prompts. When in doubt, ask others for their advice and input, and then heed it! What the book suggests is that coming home is as much a part of the Camino as leaving, and to be gentle with oneself as I reacclimate to the day-to-day.

The journal is good. I've been spending time with it daily, while the experience is still fresh in my mind and heart. One thing it has asked in a couple of different ways is "What was a monumental experience?" I have several answers for that, including my friend's injury as well as my entering the cathedral square. The question made me think of my life in general - what has been monumental? (Maybe more accurately would be what hasn't been monumental!)

My father's death at age 56 from tobacco related cancer was monumental, taking years to process. Visiting the pyramids in Egypt was monumental. Meeting the meth cook and the resulting hitting rock bottom was monumental, as was crossing the threshold into treatment and recovery. The pain of break-up(s) felt monumental, leading to walking down the aisle with a good man.

What struck me, of course, is that "monumental" can be either a negative or a positive with the definition of "large, impressive in extent...marking a turning point or a major accomplishment." I don't think that we AA's and Alanons have a market on life-changing experiences, but we are definitely able to define a "before" and "after," for events that changed the course of our lives. 

I don't want to use the word lightly, however. Yes, the Camino was a wonderful experience, "and" in the grand scheme of things, I don't feel like I've changed like some foretold, as in, "You won't be the same," or "The Camino will change your life."  I made some new friends and solidified an inner strength I may have doubted, as well as forging a new relationship to "trust the process," and my life doesn't need changing, unlike those I met who walked seeking discernment regarding career or relationship issues.

I do have to chuckle at myself with the "trust the process," something I've struggled with since first coming into recovery. Here I am, 70 years old, 39-plus years sober, and I still have moments of questioning. I can chastise myself with, "This again?!" or can recognize that each time my old fears and desire to control gets triggered, I move a little closer to acceptance and letting go. 

While listening to the oldies station in the car this week, "the" song played, the one of wishful thinking that the cute boy would ask me to dance in 7th grade. I found myself a bit teary for the girl who, so young, looked outside myself for something to make me feel better on the inside. The cute boy, the perfect outfit, the correct weight or right makeup... definitely a product of my generation and my upbringing. I know, I know - if I'd known better, I would've done better. I just wish I'd known better a bit sooner. And, as a old(er) woman, I can give thanks for all that has brought me to this moment of relative peace - chasing a crush, saying "yes" when "no" might've been a better choice, turning left when I should've turned right... As the old t-shirt said, "It's never too late to have a happy childhood," which depends on my perspective. I can focus on the fun and freedom I enjoyed as a kid, or on the lack of direction and supervision. I can look at various choices as steppingstones, or roadblocks. I can remember that right here, right now, all is more than ok.

What stands out as monumental in your life, either before or after recovery? Has your relationship to your story changed over time?  What are events you may have viewed as tragic that you now see as gifts?

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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. And note that I will have a supply with me at the AA International Convention in Vancouver, BC in July. Can't wait!