Decisions/Acceptance

 A dear friend has recently been instructed by a medical professional to stop driving. Ouch. In some ways, that is a validation of something she has suspected for awhile now, but in another way - boy howdy, here is Aging with a capital "A". Again and again, we just never know how or when life on life's terms will show up.

In a discussion of that life on life's terms business, we talked about a softening of the internal armor, that "gird your loins!" of younger years when life was often viewed as a battle. I've notice that in myself - a new cooperation with reality, as another friend terms it. There is less struggle today. I may not like what is going on, but the reflex of fighting everything and everyone is barely a whimper anymore. 

In a meeting this week, someone spoke to our slogans as doorways, and what might happen were they to walk on through. I love that image, especially as I sat in front of a placard that read, "Keep it Simple." What might I see if I walked through that door? What would be the atmosphere, the aura of keeping it simple? Perhaps, while not letting go of my calendar, a more expansive and relaxed way of interacting with my days? Maybe breathing and allowing spiritual space between commitments rather than rushing from one thing to another? Maybe simply sitting in the garden after I've put down the trowel? Honestly, my schedule doesn't change all that much from week to week, but my relationship to it sure does. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. Other times, I'm grateful for a full life. What is the difference? I wish I knew, because I prefer happy, joyous and free. 

What I will say is that the last three meetings I've been in have touched on aging, as in aging and acceptance. This is definitely an area where I can give up control, because I never had it! I'm  not powerless over how I choose to take care of myself, this physical body. I am powerless over genetics, and most of the environmental factors that contribute to my health, or lack thereof, as well as random blips that seem to come out of nowhere. As with all things, it is one day at a time, trusting I'll be given what I need to walk through whatever comes my way (which is a lot easier in theory, or in retrospect).

My cousin has reached the faraway island nation where she's been called to serve. I may not follow the same path as that part of the family, but I do understand the feeling of a calling, of a desire I just can't shake. For me it was working in treatment. After participating in a group session while I was in treatment with a Viet Nam vet, who, for the first time, talked/sobbed about what he'd been a part of when "in country," and the visible lightness after he'd dropped that burden, I thought, "I want to be a part of this." I had a similar feeling about wanting to walk on the Great Wall of China, writing my novel, as well as doing the Camino, not wanting to spend a lifetime thinking, "What if I'd....?"  Not that going on a long walk is the equivalent of a career choice or writing a book, but my belief  is that my true heart's desire(s) will find a way to make themselves known, with the path forward illuminated. 

I also know about the doubt that this family member has voiced. This doesn't feel good - did I make the right decision? How am I supposed to know? My counsel was to keep breathing and give it six months, much like I'd advise someone in a new job. Of course it feels awkward - you've never done this before. And I love it when I can drop some AA wisdom on people, like "Don't make any major decisions" right off the bat. Transitions are real. Transitions take time, no matter how much I think I "should" be able to immediately adjust to changed circumstance. 

Good reminders as I contemplate "I've been sober a long time - now what?" What is it that brings me joy? What quiet thought or feeling is nudging me one direction or another? What lurking "but you're supposed to..." nips at my heels?  I don't have answers today, and that's OK. I'll not drink and go to meetings. I'll maintain my volunteer activity. I'll get my hands in the dirt. I'll walk. And, I'll take a deep breath when  I feel myself veer towards "figure it out" mode. 

How does acceptance fit in your life today? What slogan speaks to you as far as walking through the door, and what would that feel like? Are there areas where your psyche would benefit from taking it easy?

* * * * * *

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

Covering the bases

 I heard someone once say that guidance is always available to me, if I'm paying attention. I tend to want neon lights: Go THIS WAY Jeanine!  But sometimes HP, the Universe, Spiritual Direction shows up as a middle-aged woman in sensible shoes, like the woman who went out of her way to walk me to my hotel when I was befuddled on last year's Camino. I can brush that off as simply a nice person, or I can look deeper to see that here was someone who embodied "You're never really alone." What is my choice to be?

This makes me think of the great and too short-lived TV series, Joan of Arcadia, about a somewhat surly teenage girl who, despite her protests, had "god" show up in all sorts of guises - a cafeteria lady or custodian at school perhaps, giving her tasks to perform that seemed mundane but had larger impacts - that ripple effect we talk about in AA. It was a really good show, a good reminder that appearances aren't always what they seem, and that insights or direction can appear in disguise. When I insist on expecting something to show up in a particular way, I shut myself off from the "sunlight of the spirit." And when I tell myself that a small action "doesn't really matter," maybe it really does, two or three increments further along the line.

I'm doing by best, ODAT, to release expectations and images about getting older, especially as I see public figures and celebrities passing, at 84, 86, 90... 84 no longer seems all that old! I have friends who are 77 and 78, others have hit 80, those who came into recovery as kids are now in their 50's. Time is an interesting thing, and I hope to have my own experience, neither cocky or afraid. I can listen to my elders, heed the caution signs, and simply keep moving (as my 90 year old gym mate suggests). 

One thing I'm doing, as I ramp up my de-clutter efforts, is ask myself if this or that item is something I'd take with me to a one or two room senior living apartment. I've been in those places, with the tiny shelf outside the hallway door where residents can personalize their entryway with seasonal decor. If I had one bookshelf, what would go on it? Family photos? Books I've read, or maybe those I haven't? Poetry or spiritual books? I have the King James Bible, the Koran, Rumi, Marieanne Williamson, Carl Jung...  Which do I actually read? Which would I carry with me? Would my huge collection of coffee mugs from around the world come to a new, smaller place? I've had a painted napkin holder on the kitchen table since Mom died, but we don't use paper napkins so it's become simply a catch-all for articles and scrap paper, recipes and disaster planning instructions. So long, napkin holder.

This does seem like the phase of existence for deepening my spiritual practice. There will very likely come a time when the outer world shrinks. Will my interior life sustain me? Kind of like when getting ready for a race or other walking event - it doesn't work to wait until the last week to start training. I'd think it's similar with my spiritual program. My Dad joked, half-heartedly, about "foxhole conversions" as he allowed the hospital chaplain to pray with him as his death neared. I guess you'd want to cover all the bases, especially if not sure how it all connects. Dad was mad at god for his dear mother's death - never mind that she was a heavy smoker, he wanted her alive and it didn't happen, sending his alcoholism into a spiral. But at the end, he may have had second thoughts. I don't welcome grief, but I am grateful that AA/Alanon teaches me to honor my feelings of loss when they happen, not run from the sadness, which, for me, is part of the spiritual connection, the conscious contact, the "all of me" part of Step 7. 

A book I read years ago talked about seeing a speck on the horizon, and as it got closer and closer, recognized it as god, or spirit. Where will I, where can I slow down my busy brain in order to recognize the higher power(s)? Are there things I can do today to deepen my spiritual practice? When I was in the diagnosis process with breast cancer, now three years ago, I prayed like mad in the MRI machine and while having an ultrasound - not for "don't let this be happening," but more repetition of the mantras I already use - the Serenity Prayer for example. I'm grateful that, once in treatment, I didn't have to stop smoking or stop eating fast food - I already had a reasonably healthy practice. With aging - do I want to spend my empty moments on YouTube or social media, only thinking to connect with HP when I'm in trouble, or staring down my own mortality?  The truth is, I am staring at my own mortality, not morbidly, but with some curiosity and a wee bit of trepidation. What's ahead? 

I get a medical and health related newsletter in my email, and this week had one with the title "18 Secrets to a Longer Life."  A lot of it is stuff I already do, like not smoking or drinking, and physical activity.  I like that the piece also mentioned spirituality, community and having a sense of purpose - that stuff can ebb and flow, but again and always, so grateful for program. It also mentions napping (yes!) and the importance of forgiveness. That's a good reminder - I tend to hold onto guilt for my way-old actions more than resentment at people. After a recent sponsor meeting, I wrote a forgiveness letter to myself - no fireworks, but a good reminder that there are always two sides to every story, sometimes three or four. I can hold on to the woe-is-me self condemnation, or move to gratitude for the sweet parts of the relationships I did have and the living amends I was able to make.

How does spirit/higher power show up in your life today? What is your spiritual practice these days? How might that have changed as you've dealt with life on life's terms over the years? What do you see when faced with your own mortality, or that of your loved ones? How can the tools of the program help you navigate the unknown?

* * * * * *

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

Reflections

 On my walk the other morning, I rounded a corner passing a bus stop with seven kids waiting to ride down the hill to high school. All but one of them had their nose (and their thumbs) in their phones. No giggling, no jostling around, no boys pretending not to check out the girls, no conversation. It made me a bit sad, the same way I feel when in line at the post office, or on a subway or bus, or at the airport - people and their screens. Entertaining? Sure. Informative? Often. And...  I called a friend once, and she exclaimed, only partially in jest, "You're not supposed to call me! You're supposed to text first to see if it's ok to call me." Sheesh. Now that you mention it, I rarely get voice mail anymore, and the phone doesn't ring too often (if we don't count telemarketing). It's a new and different world.

In a meeting this week, people spoke of the intuitive thought or action, the internal knowing (or very obvious clues) that lets me know I'm on the right path, or on one I need to avoid. It took awhile to get comfortable with self-trust, with a lot of newcomer questioning - "Is this HP's will or self will?" What I found over time is that if something flows smoothly, I'm in the right place. If it feels forced, maybe I could get out of my own way and let life unfold. 

And somewhat along those lines, in another meeting, the chair spoke to feeling stuck in particular areas - I could so relate. It got me thinking - am I feeling stuck because I'm bumping up against "should" or "have to" vs "want to"? As my observant spouse pointed out, if I really wanted to do the particular thing I'm thinking of, I'd be doing it. 

So then it comes down to action vs surrender, let go vs faith without works is dead. Easy does it, but do it. Ha ha ha. Once again, perspective and intention. Mae West is reported to have said, "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." How can I apply that to decisions today, especially as I seek being a human being vs a human doing, letting go of notions of "doing it right"?  A woman I know shared that she's been retired 8 years, and is just now feeling the internal exhale of releasing the agenda/schedule. Breathing, breathing...

And speaking of perspective, I hosted a gathering of cousins over the weekend as we bid bon voyage to one of the offspring (who's now in her 50's), off on the next phase of her life halfway across the world. In a follow up conversation, I reiterated how much I enjoyed spending time at the cousins' house growing up. With 6 kids, there was always something going on. In contrast, one of the twins said that she always appreciated spending the night at our house because it was quiet. I couldn't wait to get out of our somber home, with Dad's alcoholism and depression, while she looked to escape the drama of 5 siblings and her dad's much more dramatic alcoholism. 

 Do we always want what we don't have? No, but apparently we did back then, though didn't talk about it. And, an example of how my memories are often so different from others who were there. Sometimes I think my brother and I grew up in different households, and a dear friend remembers things from our late 20's that I have absolutely no recollection of (like a flight to Reno!). I have a sticky note on my computer screen that asks, "What else might be true?" I can apply that to distant days as well as something that might have me in a tizzy today. 

Spring begins on Friday, though it's felt spring-like here for a while now with flowers and trees in bloom. I've got round two of a head cold, so feeling a bit lethargic. Today I can practice self-care, in contrast to times I would've pushed through and made myself  keep moving. 

Is there anywhere in your life where the should's and the want to's bump up against each other? Does self-care come any easier in long term recovery? What situations or memories might benefit from asking, "What else might be true?" 

In-between

 I'm thinking this week about the in-between, the liminal state, the process of letting go of a way of being, whether the new way is defined or not. I'm thinking about my friend, now out of the hospital but with a ways to go before back to full health. I'm thinking of my spouse, on the verge of choosing a retirement date, and another good friend who is looking for work that fits this stage of their life and longings. My cousins' elderly father just passed, which if anything like my mother's dying, has them letting go of Dad-Alive to Dad-Gone. I'm thinking of a friend who is hanging on to the idea that they can control and enjoy their drinking while failing miserably (I said, "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but if you are alcoholic, there's no "every once in awhile.") I'm also thinking of a friend who is in the process of a major life decision, now wondering if they are truly being called to a new life or are in massive self-will

And what about me? I seem to be in a state of defining and redefining what it means to be retired, what it means to decide how I'll spend my days and how that shifts and changes, as well as the "should's" that are never quite quiet enough to ignore. Where shall I direct my energy and attention today? How will I balance active and passive pursuits? Where will I find balance between home and hearth and time with friends? And, more importantly, maybe there isn't really an "in-between." Maybe life is life, one day at a time, whether I'm on solid footing or not. Maybe I can choose to grow rather than being pushed by circumstance.

We just spent a few days with my husband's family in San Francisco - always a joy to witness the full spectrum of life - the little ones growing up before our eyes with the patriarch and matriarch at the other end, and us, feeling creakier walking those SF hills with each visit. A highlight of the trip, for me, was our All AA All Day fellowship infusion, with our early morning meeting and coffee after, a drive across the Bay for lunch with a good friend and another meeting, and back to the house in time to join our biweekly fellowship group online. I love how our meetings are the same, yet very different wherever we are. It's especially fun to get real-life hugs from folks I generally just see online. I wish I had words adequate to describe how I feel about AA to the friend who resists, the "I hope you hear something that makes you want to come back" without preaching. Attraction, not promotion can be tough, especially when it's someone I care about. 

As much as I love to travel, I really love coming home. It seems like even a brief break from the usual routines makes them all the sweeter - the same things that were kind of boring become endearing, whether a quiet cup of tea early in the morning or watching Jeopardy. Our two cats have been right outside the bedroom door each morning since we've returned. Did they do that while we were gone, waiting for the door to open and it never did? Very fortunate that my brother feeds them, though they haven't yet come out from under the couch (or wherever it is they hide) to officially thank him. 

And so, the beat goes on, sometimes predictably, sometimes not. My task, always, is to be in this moment - not thinking about last week's conversation or next week's calendar. I am a planner, but as I was taught years ago, the results are not up to me. 

What has your attention this week? Are there places where you see that your experience can benefit others? How about places where it is better that you remain silent? What does "home" mean to you today? Is it a place, or a state of mind? How do you carry the message of hope and recovery, directly or indirectly?

* * * * * *

There's still time for a new year 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 table