The Love Vibe of the people...

 At a past International Convention, I believe the one in Toronto, one of the old-timers who spoke was from Nova Scotia. I don't recall the details of his story, other than his saying what kept him coming back was "the love-vibe of the people." At the time I thought it was funny, coming from a fellow who looked more like a fisherman than an old hippie, but the longer I'm around, the more I agree with him. It's about the people.

Before I got sober, I might've told you, or believed myself, that I didn't like people, but the truth was, I was afraid of you - afraid you knew more than I did, that you could see I didn't quite belong, the old "you're ok and I'm not" routine. But lo and behold, when I heard people share in meetings I realized we aren't so different after all and that many of us came in with the core belief that we're not ok at some level. Thank goodness for outside help and lots of Step work, and truthfully, growing older, which seems to have smoothed out much of the angst of younger days.

And thank goodness for the love-vibe of the people. This past week I spent time with a friend from the early years who left Portland now decades ago but was in town for the holiday. Another day, I picked up a woman I've known since third grade to attend a gathering at another grade school (& program) pal's house. I saw another good friend at my in-person meeting mid-week, and was able to connect via yet another friend, with a woman who's just moving to Portland. And then Thanksgiving at my sister-from-another-mother's house where I expressed my gratitude that she (who I've known since 1972) adopted me and my husband for the holidays after Mom died. And then I made good on my professed love of nature and went on a chilly but beautiful hike with another good friend. As I said last week, I am rich beyond measure, which also included an overnight with our daughter, who hadn't slept here since pre-pandemic days.

That's a lot of people time for this introvert, so am relishing a more open (i.e. empty) schedule this week. Balance, balance, balance, especially this time of year when I can feel torn between enjoying festivities and being drawn to the quiet darkness of pre-solstice. 

And in the quiet of a wonderfully unstructured day, I attacked a particular shelf in my office/guest room where I have a habit of simply piling papers upon papers until they threaten to slide onto the floor. Some of it is printed blog pages, which go into a notebook. Some are printed out poems or articles, most, these days, dealing with aging, death or grief. And then there is the folder of obituaries - flyers from memorials attended, obits from the local paper, newspaper articles about well-known people who've died. It's long felt important to keep these mementos - reminders of lives lived, long or too brief. There is Rodney K, a stellar man of enthusiasm and laughter, Mark H, an early AIDS activist I met at the acupuncture clinic, and dear Walt, who fought kidney disease for decades with a positive attitude I could only hope to emulate. I've heard it said that no one is actually dead until there's no one left to remember them. I do remember - Peggy and Leonard, Ila, biker Kelly, Kathleen. Norm B, Jimmy C - .so many examples of going out with their boots on, staying sober through it all. 

At a Flexibility class at my gym the other day, I asked one of the women how old she is. "Coming up on 89!" she said, along with "It's important to keep moving." Indeed. And so, I will keep moving, through the Steps, through life on life's terms, through the memories, through the lessons, through the ups and the downs, the annoyances and the joys - one day at a time. 

How do you experience the "love vibe of the people," in or out of the rooms? How can you be mindful of balance in these potentially busy holiday weeks? Who is in your memory file of people who've gone on? Is there anything left unsaid in your friendships and relationships today?

* * *

Might it be time for a year-end inventory or planning for the new year?

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.

Change is inevitable

 I was reminded in a meeting this week that nothing stays the same. Nothing. Not relationships or cities, the garden or the cats. Another way to put it is that the only thing constant is change. Damn it. 

I'd Like guarantees - that you'll love me forever, that those I care about will always be healthy and whole, that my peers and I will stay sober. I'm realizing that I hold implicit expectations of my friends - that you won't try to seduce my partner, that you won't steal from my home or my purse, that you'll be generally honest with me, that I can come to you with both joys and sorrows. Pre-recovery I came home one day to find that the meth cook's friends had rearranged my living room, so I might add that to the list: thou shalt not move furniture unless asked. 

"Implied" is only good if both parties are on the same page. I learned this the hard way when a long-term partner, in the throes of our breakup, let me know they'd been drinking for the past couple of years. Ouch. That hurt almost as much as the emotional infidelity. But we'd never talked about that aspect of life - we'd met in AA, so it was my assumption that sobriety held the same importance for both of us. When my husband and I got together, I brought it up - knowing that life happens and there are no guarantees, my commitment, desire and expectation is that we'd have a sober relationship. It felt important to say the words, though I've not had a "this is what I expect" conversation with a friend. 

So, what happens when a friend breaks the unwritten, unspoken contract? Some things would be non-negotiable, like sleeping with my spouse or stealing from my wallet. But what if it is a more subtle shift, like having a drink now and then? Is that on the same level as no longer willing or able to go on a hike, or a political shift? 

That is something I've been pondering. Can a friendship survive and thrive based on shared history alone? Friendships need attention, whether it's a regular coffee date or seeing each other every few years when we're both in the same city at the same time. How much attention does a friendship need to stay solid? And how much can a person change and still be a confidante? I do have friends who don't go to meetings, a couple on the opposite side of the political aisle, and know people who returned to drinking, and each of those cases have triggered a certain amount of grieving. A question that sometimes comes up is, never mind the past - "If I met you today, would we be friends?" 

And, this is coming from someone who has friends I've known since grade school. History does have meaning for me, along with shared values and at least some shared interests. One day at a time, there is nothing for me to figure out or decide today, other than practicing the principles in all my affairs. I don't have a crystal ball, as much as I sometimes wish I did. 

I've shared my conflicted feelings about my friend drinking in several meetings, including a zoom group I attend with women who have over ten years sober, with most over twenty or thirty. It wasn't the topic of the meeting, but after my share, several women spoke of their own heartbreak and confusion when a close friend decided to drink again. One more time (again and again) I realize I am not alone, in either my sorrows or my joys. 

As Gratitude Month draws to a close (with noting Bill Wilson's natal birthday yesterday), I think of all I can be thankful for - my sobriety, good health, a strong marriage, good friends and so much more. I often say a "thank you" for hot running water, for growing up in the era I did, for a warm home. I am rich beyond measure, in all the ways that really matter. 

What is on your gratitude list today? How does Step 10 (and 11 and 12) inform your relationships today, along with any expectations that might need to be released? How does the concept of "acceptance" play out in your daily life? How will you be gentle with yourself and others over this holiday season that can be emotionally triggering?

* * *

It might be time for a year-end inventory or planning for the new year. 

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.

Different strokes for different folks

 A couple of years ago while on vacation, we visited the Intergroup office in Vancouver, BC, where I was gifted the book, Pioneers in Skirts: The Women's Stories of the BC/Yukon Area, full of experience, strength and hope from women who came into AA at a time when female members were the exception, not the norm. 

The final piece in the book is by a woman named Winnie, sharing what it was like, and how she works the program with long term recovery. She says, "the most important thing for long-term sobriety is remembering where you came from. Remembering what steps you took to get to where you are now and doing them on a constant basis. Not saying "Oh, I don't need that part."  I might amend that slightly to doing what I need to do on a consistent basis rather than constant. I don't go to a meeting a day anymore, nor a daily written 10th Step for example. What is consistent, at the moment, is my quiet time with daily readers and journal, and a couple of zoom secretary positions. I'm in a Step group, and while I'm woefully lax on the "homework," I am able to see where the practice of the Steps has become internalized over the years.

Winnie goes on to say, "We are looking for a balanced life," stating that she's known people who went to 10 meetings a week and relapsed. I could say the same, recognizing that it is quality, not quantity that keeps me on an even keel. I have my spiritual go-to's, but even that is liable to shift and change over time. I say that nature is part of what brings me peace of mind, but when was the last time I was in the woods? What probably matters is discernment between what I've long believed about myself and what is true today. I was told long ago that my values show in how I spend my time and my money - anything else is just lip service, or a signal to re-evaluate.

A long-term friend recently disclosed to me that she has a drink now and then. When she first told me she didn't consider herself an alcoholic anymore, I was surprised, though truthfully, it's probably been 20 years since she attended meetings, so her recent decision wasn't all that shocking. And now to hear about a beer now and then is more interesting than anything else. 

Life marches on. There was a time in earlier recovery that her disclosure would've sent me into a panic, with images of an immediate fall to daily drunkenness, or would've made me fearful for my own sobriety. I'm more open to the nuances of the disease as well as our various drinking histories these days. I've known a couple of people now who were heavy cocaine addicts, but have the occasional drink of alcohol. I know someone else who quit cocaine but drank themselves to death. I know that I fully conceded to my innermost self that I am alcoholic, that I was addicted to a powder greater than myself (a couple of them), that for me, it is alcoholism, not alcoholwasm.  But today, another's decisions are not a threat to my sobriety. I might feel differently if this were in my home, but it's not, and not someone I see with any regularity. And, I know that "recovery" looks different for different people, and what works for others might not work for some. 

If anything, her story brings up melancholy, never far below the surface for me, for the close friendship we once shared. Again, it's the passage of time thing, in bas relief. I recall, with gratitude for finding my people, those heady days of early recovery when the revelations of the Steps felt like magic. I remember this friend saying to me, when I was trapped in a morass of guilt, "But it says in the Big Book that god wants us to be happy, joyous and free!" That was a lifeline at the time, the beginning of dropping the rock of shame by living sober and changing behaviors, and joining others on the path.

And as I've written before, many of those early sobriety friendships shifted and changed as we got jobs, paired off or got married, moved across town - all the things we do as we grow up and mature. So, here we are today. Some of those relationships have deepened and continue to thrive, some have shifted into something else all together, and some have evaporated into the ether of "What ever happened to so-and-so?" And people new to me show up as well, for a reason or a season, as the saying goes. Today I can appreciate the past as well as the present, one day at a time.

A friend recently wondered how I keep finding things to write about, but life continues to present opportunities for reflection. Just for today, I have a primary purpose. Just for today I will pay attention and will acknowledge and honor my feelings, whether joy on a sunny November day or a tinge of sadness for a changed relationship. 

How do you define "recovery" today? Do you know those who's definition or applications are different than yours? When is the last time you evaluated your values? Do your behaviors and choices match what you say matters to you? What feelings or emotions might need acknowledgment today?

* * *

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.

Walking the program

 This week I joined a small group of grade school pals for our monthly coffee date. A few years ago, one of our group had the idea that she wanted to be like the old codgers she'd see at the diner, shooting the breeze, reminiscing, sharing life. It felt so very good to sit with those who've known me since I was nine years old, through thick and thin. I peeled off to my first husband when I was 15, so many memories are not specifically shared, but enough crossover to feel solid and important. And grateful to acknowledge that we're fortunate to be alive (three of us are sober, two others don't have the affliction, though partied hard back in the day). Solid relationships feel especially important these days.

I'm thinking a lot about connection, that feeling of belonging and of being heard and known. I see articles about the crisis of loneliness in our hyper-connected world, how the psuedo-connection of social media is a poor substitute for actual people. I think about my morning walks, which I've complained about before, where many folks I say "Good morning" to walk right by as if I didn't exist, earbuds or not. Is that a post-pandemic thing? I can't remember, but it troubles me. I know I don't live in Mayberry, but a simple acknowledgement that we each exist would be nice. And, truthfully, there are enough of the friendly sort, whether a nod or brief conversation, to keep my faith in humanity from tanking altogether.

And, loneliness is so very different from the quiet time I need to stay centered. The often quoted Marianne Moore writes that "The cure for loneliness is solitude."  Yes. When I sit in silence, I'm better able to filter out the voices of doom and know that right here, right now, all is well. 

That being said, I've heard that alcoholics are those who treat loneliness with isolation. Ha! We are a complicated lot. What can be a challenge for me is to be still long enough to know if I'm isolating or taking a necessary break from other humans, and as an introvert, that can sometimes be hard to parse out. But again and again, listen to my heart.

In a meeting last week, the chair spoke of walking the program vs working it, which can sound and feel like drudgery. Walking the program brings to mind the path, the skipping along or trudging uphill. Walking the program feels like participating, rather than working it, which like my walks and workouts are sometimes done through gritted teeth. Do I have to? No, but do you want to maintain or improve your health, dear? It's merely semantics, but even the slightest change in words, like how I do the 3rd step prayer, can make a difference in my perception and engagement. And staying engaged is what I seek in long term recovery. I pay attention in meetings, or to what catches my attention elsewhere, in the "take what you like and leave the rest" category. For example, many people start the day reading pages 86-88 in the Big Book, but I found myself glossing over before too long, words on the page registering while my mind went to the day's plans. 

My first sponsor, who I've quoted before, often said, "You grow or you go." The "grow" might not be in leaps and bounds like earlier in recovery, but thank goodness for relative stability! And a huge "thank goodness" for my peers in long-term sobriety. Yes, I'm here for the newer person, and the reminder of "what it was like," and connecting with people who are walking beside me or slightly ahead is comforting.

Of course, there is always the "bleeding deacon" variety of long-timer. I sat next to a woman in a meeting once who whispered, "Do all old timers talk so much?!" when the fellow in question went on and on. It can be tempting to share every bit of what I've learned in 38 years in a 5 minute share, but really, was I listening back in the day? A good friend once said that after about four minutes, most people check out - a good reminder! Like when I went to my first AA dance and someone pointed out that most people in the room were self-centered alcoholics, thus not paying much attention to me. Alas - I am not the center of the universe, when dancing, or sharing in a meeting. 

And so, the beat goes on. What is on your heart today? How do you discern the difference between loneliness and healing solitude? What do you do for people-connection when you're tempted to pull the covers over your head? How do you walk the program today?