Grow or Go

 "Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life. Tip toe if you must, but take the step."   from Sermons on the Couch, 8/23/26

A few weeks ago I mentioned an acquaintance who said she loves a spiritual nudge, in response to my saying I've felt a bit off. I'm realizing that I don't necessarily welcome the nudge, the nudge that often means stepping outside my comfort zone. That comfort zone is WAY bigger than when I first got sober, but the edges are still there, whispering, "No!" or "Beware!"

Many years ago now, a friend introduced me to Runes, the small stones that can be used to access my inner wisdom, much like Tarot cards. When I got my own set, I repeatedly pulled the stone described as "disruption," and within the next couple of years, the boyfriend left, the job ended abruptly, I moved, people died...In retrospect, other than losing people, the endings were gifts, the Universe doing for me what I couldn't do for myself. And.... there is still a part of me that imagines the "nudge" as a push off a cliff. I'm not a great fan of the unknown. Sure, give me a nudge, but maybe along with a preview or a map!

And then one of those crazy coincidences showed up. For a year or so I've been vaguely considering attending lectures a local university puts on for seniors (as in elders). It's near my house, some of the topics look interesting.... maybe someday. I'd gone so far as to track down the webpage last Sunday morning and penciled in the upcoming orientation - one step at a time. And then, in my Sunday in-person group, a woman came over to chat about the Eugene conference, morphing into chit chat about being introverts. Seemingly out of nowhere, she mentioned that she participates in the adult learning program I'd just looked up. A cosmic connection, or perhaps a spiritual nudge??

And, on Friday, when I reminded the meeting acquaintance about her spiritual nudge comment, she replied, "I said that??" and we agreed that it's probably best to pull that nudge in close, just to keep an eye on it! Always the reminder that I'll know what I need to know. In the meantime, I'll attend the orientation for the adult learning program...

I recently read The Measure of My Days by Florida Scott-Maxwell. Written in 1979, when the author was in her 80's, it is essentially her journal of aging. While parts felt dry, and I'll admit to skipping ahead, I was interested in how she described "the paradox of old age, where the physical body grows frail, yet the inner mind and passions burn brightly." I'm not there yet, but I will admit to having books and papers and boxes of photographs that I imagine myself spending time with "when I'm old." 

Before I get "old" - ha ha, "older," I am committed, right here on the page, to getting my affairs in order. Essentially they are, in that I've prepaid my funeral expenses and have a will, but would my spouse or brother know where to find those documents? What about the bills that come to my personal email? I often tell my husband that I need to know what of his belongings and collections are important, but I need to do the same. What of my trinkets or tchotchkes are actual collectibles or have family history significance and what are simply memories that only have meaning for me? 

 I'm not exactly on the verge of Swedish Death Cleaning or becoming a minimalist, however, I certainly can tidy up. A friend once told me how he and his siblings labeled items in their mother's house, so they'd know who got what when she passed. I could do the same. For example, who would appreciate the 2nd edition Big Book that a cousin passed on to me from her grandmother? Is my box full of ticket stubs worth anything more than the stories I attach to the events? In a box, somewhere in the back of a closet, sits the pair of shoes I wore climbing inside one of the pyramids at Giza in Egypt, the absolute coolest thing I'd done in life up to that point. And... essentially, it's a pair of old shoes in a box. Should I frame them in a shadow box? Hang them on a wall?  How about take a picture, then put in a donation box? Even thinking about digitalizing the photos from that time, I ask, "Why?" To look at when I'm "old"?  To save for who?

On one of those many pieces of paper floating around my desk are notes I took from a de-clutter post. What strikes me today is "Memories live in you, not in things." That can be tough for this daughter of a Depression Era mom. Things can act as a prompt for memory, whether my original Big Book with treatment pals autographs or an ashtray from my first trip to the UK.. I guess part of it might be to consider that if I don't have a memory without seeing the thing, maybe it isn't such an important memory after all. 

Some memories will likely never fade - like those triggered by the 40 year old scars from shooting up , or the photo that reminds me of the time my brother and I smoked pot together for the first time (after burying our dad in the sand at the beach). I drove to the coast yesterday for brunch with my first sponsor, and that particular stretch of highway has many memories, from childhood to the drinking days and recovery. 

It was great to connect with my former sponsor. She had three-ish years when we met, and I though she walked on water! I'm grateful for the wisdom and gentle guidance she shared and that I still draw on. It's pretty simple - don't drink and go to meetings, and "you either grow or you go." Like me, she's a meeting go-er. Why would I stop doing what works?

Where in your life might you be feeling a spiritual nudge? How might you remain open to whatever the Universe is trying to tell you, however subtle that might be? Are your affairs in order? If not, what is a small action you could take, "just in case"?  What did you learn from your first sponsor, or early meetings, that still ring true today?

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Feeling like an inventory, or a deeper dive into your program? 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 table

Relieve me...

 When thinking about, and telling, my story, I know that I spent most of my life (pre-recovery and some time after) looking for something/someone/the next thing to fill the empty space inside that we read about in the Big Book. In our literature, it's described as a god-shaped hole but whatever its configuration, I very much, and very much without knowing it, was reaching, grasping, searching for something that would make me feel OK inside. Forget about feeling whole  - I just wanted to feel OK. I wanted to feel OK, but didn't have the ability to put words to the search, getting swept up in the next infatuation, the new drug, the new dance club, the next new idea and on and on.

I feel for that girl, and for those who got swept up in the tornado. Hence the amends process, and the very slow amends to myself - the amends that have to do with sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly coming to understand what propelled me. I'm grateful for all those in the rooms who spoke to the different avenues our dis-ease could take once we stopped the drinking and drugging - spending, gambling, food, sex/relationships... I'm not coming up with a fitting analogy, but in my mind I picture the cartoon Tasmanian Devil, whirling and whirling while trying to grab the next shiny object. 

And here I (we) sit, in long term recovery, way more aware of the discomforts when they show up. This week I've been feeling conference let-down. After the adrenaline high of the past few weeks, what I call my tuning fork energy, "normal" feels a little flat. A massage, acupuncture, my regular meetings, a hike in the woods are all part of my regular routine, but/and extra helpful as I settle into the here and now. Kind of like after running a marathon, completing a term at school or a big project at work- the sense of gratitude and accomplishment plus the emotional release. Always, always, self-care is key.

As a friend in a meeting mentioned recently, I've never been here before - this age, this much recovery, this particular situation, which for me these days includes witnessing and supporting friends and family who are walking through age-related change. It truly is one day at a time, and evidence that we all age at different rates with different challenges. I can get into comparison mode -better here, worse there - but my first sponsor used to caution that the only comparing I need do was with myself, as in where I came from and where I am now. My mother's 71 looked different than mine, which looks different that so-and-so's. And, so be it. 

The topic of a recent meeting was "time" and its various applications. As a friend and I looked at our busy retirement calendars to make a coffee date, they reminded me of the long ago speaker we saw who said, "Time is my higher power". I can certainly relate to that, and not necessarily in a good way as I track the number of minutes I walk, keep an eye on the clock as I go about my day - a habit from my work life, or simply part of who I am. As I've mentioned before, I had a boyfriend who dubbed me "the human clock." I own that today (!) and have gotten better at relaxing my grip. 

It keeps coming back to, "How do I want to spend my remaining time on the planet?" It's not about things to do - I tend to live my bucket list. There aren't too many places I long to visit, or accomplishments I hope to achieve. It really is about how do I want to "be"? What energy do I want to both expend and draw upon? How can I be part of the solution today?

I've shared this before, and didn't note the source, but once again: "When we understand that each day isn't one more day but one less, we'll start giving more value to the things that truly matter." Talking with a friend who is increasingly frail, both physically and mentally, they said that the Serenity Prayer is essentially their talisman, with the emphasis on "change the things I can" being expectations - the expectation that my body will always do what I want it to, that my friends, my spouse, my frame-of-reference icons (farewell Dolly) will always be there, that I'm in charge. 

It helps to talk about it, as we say in Alanon, "reason things out with someone else." On my long weekend walk, I stopped by my brother's merely to use the bathroom, but then he decided to walk half-way back towards my house with me, uncharacteristically. I say uncharacteristically, but he is in the process of finding a new way of being since his wife died. It was good to walk and talk with this man who shares many of my memories, but who sometimes has me wondering if we grew up in the same house.  Same with my cousins. I recently remarked to one of them how much I enjoyed their house because of all the fun and commotion, while she preferred my house because it was quiet. Perspective.

How do you get centered if you're feeling off track? What feelings does the word "time" conjure up? What is included for you in "change the things I can?" 

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Feeling like an inventory, or a deeper dive into your program? 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 table

Connections over time

 Oh  man, I've had an emotion-packed weekend. Several months ago I was asked to speak at Summerfest, an AA/Alanon conference in Eugene, Oregon. I obsessed a bit, like I do, wanting to do right by the program, and on Sunday, did my best in the moment. True to form, there were three talks - the stellar pitch I gave while on a long walk last week, the actual talk, and the "coulda, shoulda,woulda" on the drive home. And...I gave myself permission to fret for the rest of Sunday, and then "poof" let it go into the Universe. I doubt that anyone else was thinking, "She really should have said _____" or "Gosh, she left out _____." Relieve me of the bondage of self.

Above all, way above all, were the connections made at the conference - old and new. The other speakers were great - it's fun meeting fellow members from around the country, sharing ideas and experiences. We have a good friend in Eugene, a good friend we often just connect with at the conference (I love our AA friendships that can go months without talking and then pick right up where we left off). We shared a meal and laughs and several conversations with her and another friend - equally fun to introduce friends to each other. And, to run into a friend of a friend, who got her pal on the phone in order to listen in on the workshop I did on relationships (Hi V!)

Friday evening, the local pal walked me over to introduce me to a good friend of hers. As we said our "hello's" I looked very closely at her husband, and with a couple of questions, realized he was the spouse of a dear supervisor in my early work life who died far too young of ovarian cancer, probably 35 years ago. I think of her often, and had frequently wondered what ever happened to her husband who walked those final months with her - and there he was. I cried just a little, and he may have too, as I told him how much I'd loved Kathy. To another friend, who also knew her, I said, "Higher Power in the house," to which she replied, "Always is." Always is, making connections, providing just the right reading or conversation or river path or seemingly chance encounter that reminds me I'm not in charge.

After my talk Sunday morning, two fellows I'd known through another couple, both now deceased, came up for hugs and memories. And then another friend of my closest friend was there for a hug, showing me photos on his phone of me and my bestie in the 1990's. Oh my, we were young.

The topping on the cake was when a young woman stood in front of me and I realized she was the daughter of another close friend, now with nearly 18 months clean & sober after years of struggle, years of her two dads' struggles and prayers, years of in and out, now in a speaker meeting with her daughter and grandchild, and working at a treatment program. I've known this woman since she was a little girl, and while not directly impacted by her disease progression, was well aware of the hell she and her parents went through. Higher Power in the house - the Universe's timing, not ours.

Last week, as I packed for the weekend away, I started to cry with gratitude, thinking of the shivering denizen I once was - the "we don't get here from there." Recovery has given me a full and rich life, not without heartaches and challenges, but a beautiful life of being present, a life of strong friendships, a life of service in one form or another. I never would've imagined the gifts I have today when I stopped on the Sunset Pass on the way to treatment to shoot up for the last time. Grateful doesn't being to describe how I feel. 

And, back to reality, I treated myself to a massage in an effort to get out of my head and back into my body - it can be hard to stay in busy-mind when my tight hamstrings are being stretched. So, back to reality with an eye to intentionally leaving space in my weeks - space for the slowing-down garden, the closet that needs attention, just sitting. I know I keep returning to this theme. As a friend told me years ago, I'll keep getting the lesson until I learn the lesson. 

What lessons are on repeat for you? Can you give yourself grace as you trudge the road? How does gratitude show up in your life today?

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Feeling like an inventory, or a deeper dive into your program? 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 table

Time...

 Last weekend, the Lloyd Center mall here in Portland closed after sputtering along the last few years. When built in 1960, it was the largest mall west of the Mississippi, and as a kid, offered a myriad of opportunities for fun and mischief and everything in-between. My cousins and I slid down the garbage chute in the big department store, waded in the fountain, slid down the escalator railings. My first date with my first  husband was there, and very likely, our last meal out together in the food court before the pandemic shut everything down. Last week, six of us who'd gone to grade school and high school together wandered the nearly empty hallways, remembering, laughing, getting misty with the sheer volume of memories. 

And soon, something else will take its place, and we old timers will drive by and say, "Remember when..." like we do at the site of a neighborhood high school that was torn down, the space where my first apartment burned down, and on and on. Years ago, my boss and I were on a work trip in Maine, and when asking for directions, the old guy we talked to said, "You turn where the Dunkin Donuts used to be." I can relate.

We spent the weekend in Seattle to attend a friend's wedding, a friend of a friend I first met at the San Antonio International in 2010. It was a sweet service, and very cool to meet several other AA folks with 40+ years, and several more in the 30's. I love seeing us out and about, living the dream(s) of long term sobriety (which includes the rollercoaster of good and not so good life-on-life's-terms). 

And on Monday, my closest friend, the friend who left treatment when I'd been there a mere 5 days, celebrated 41 years of continuous sobriety, one day at a time. As I tell him, my recovery wouldn't have been the same without that chance meeting that led to living together briefly (twice), travels, meetings and more meetings, losing loved ones, breakups and make-ups, moving and staying put and on and on. Much has changed in our lives over the years, but our friendship as well as our commitment to the 12 Step way of life has not. "Stick with the winners" applies as much today as it did at the beginning. 

It is the connections over time that prompt my gratitude, from the casual to the intense. In a recent meeting, a couple of people shared about having had time, going out, and now trying to make their way back. I hope to never have that experience - obviously for the pain of active addiction, but hugely for the people. What would I do without you? 

How would you describe the gifts of long-term sobriety? If, like many of us, you came to AA to get the heat off, what have been the unexpected joys of a life in recovery?

 * * * * *

Feeling like an inventory, or a deeper dive into your program? 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 table