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?

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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

You just never know...

I got a call late last week that a good friend was in the ICU for emergency intestinal surgery. Wait - what?? We'd spent the day on Thursday texting back and forth about my May travel, and he was scheduled to leave town on an extended trip on Friday, instead, calling for an ambulance. I've alerted the troops (i.e. home group members) and have been to the hospital, working with another friend to try to access his travel documents in order to cancel (note to self - the computer/phone is great, and having a paper backup is a good idea for such unexpected emergencies). Once more, a reminder that you just never know. You really, really just never know.

Another friend is part of a small group that has been meeting over time, with a current focus on the 12 steps. Each member takes a Step and creates processing questions to facilitate going deep into the "what it's like now" portion of our program. I've always appreciated the small, in-home groups I've participated in - the current Cabal, a group that worked through One Breath at a Time, another group that worked the Alanon Steps, a focus on aging, a group we called To Old to Give a F***,  and plain old Step Groups over the years. I love my meetings, and there is something about sitting regularly with a closed group that allows for enhanced emotional honesty. 

One of the questions that April L. shared with me made me catch my breath: "If your recovery were no longer just measured by abstinence, how would you evaluate your spiritual awareness and condition today?" My immediate thoughts were around specifics - not running around on my partner, not stealing time, attention or money from loved ones or myself, all of which points to integrity - the walking the talk variety. I know what my morals and values are today, i.e. they don't change based on my circumstances or who I'm with. And today, what recovery looks like is showing up - going to the hospital even though my friend was unconscious/sedated, staying in touch with his family out of state, doing what little I could (and so very grateful that, as of this writing, he is out of ICU and on the mend). 

The question also makes me think of service on a less personal level - how am I part of the solution today, in ways big and small? A smile and "good morning" to those I pass when I walk (whether they reply or not), coffee cards I give to my favorite, or random, grocery store clerks at the holidays, fostering communication between neighbors, letting a car into MY lane. This week that meant accepting an invitation to go in the home of an older woman I chat with on my walks in order to view her amazing paintings (another reminder - it's never too late). 

I chaired my Alanon home group last week, marking the 40 year anniversary of walking in the doors, desperate for a magic formula that would convince my heroin addicted sort-of-boyfriend to get clean. I am so very grateful that I don't live with the active disease today, whether that man or a later partner who was a relapser. I'm so grateful for the inventories, outside help and tears that (eventually) brought me to a place of being able to look at the past - my growing up years - without staring. It has definitely been a journey, and one I will continue.

My topic for the meeting was from one of the daily readers that spoke to detaching from myself. I'm semi-proficient at detaching from others, but what about my own sometimes circular thinking? How do I ensure that my mind and my body are in the same place? It's no big secret, though I sometimes act (think!) as if I just obsess long enough, or in the "right" way, the situation will turn out to my liking. Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't and it is not my brain power that changes the weather or traffic, my spouse's workday, a friend's predicament. "One day at a time" can sound simple, but it continues to be a challenge for me. Right here, right now, all is well. My friend is doing amazingly well (being a marathoner helps), another friend received helpful and hopeful medical news, my brother is taking care of business in the newly widower department, and just for today, my spouse and I are healthy. Thank you to long term sobriety for having the tools to walk through whatever life throws my way - not always gracefully or automatically, but I get there, yes, ODAT.

How would you measure your emotional sobriety today? How are you of service, in ways big and small? Are you able to detach from your own thoughts when you find yourself in a quandary? What are you grateful for today?

  * * * * * *

Time for an 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

Trudging

 I was reminded this week of that the "road of happy destiny" is sometimes like a smooth, newly paved freeway and sometimes a twisty, muddy path through dense woods. Sometimes we trudge, sometimes we skip merrily along, and sometimes we need a flashlight to illuminate the way forward. 

Even after all this time it's not automatic, but usually that illumination comes via the Steps, with the path forward leading back to myself, to the still, small voice, to the quiet place within that knows, knows all is well, despite outward appearances. Health, relationships, employment/finances - yes, there are big deals and at my core I am sober and I am supported, by my own inner resources and by the fellowship. 

A friend says they rely on GPS - Grace, Peace and Serenity. I like it! Sometimes that's all it takes - a slogan, a particular phrase, the Serenity Prayer - to move me from worry to acceptance of what is in the here and now. Am I uncomfortable with some aspect of my existence? OK. Where does Step One fit in? If I can acknowledge my powerlessness, do I believe I will be restored to sanity if I let go of the illusion of control? Can I do an honest inventory, even if what I recover/discover about myself could move me beyond my current comfort zone?

It's interesting/funny/ironic how I can still, at times, hide from myself. A sticky note on my computer says: If you know the answer, ask a bigger question. That can feel scary, throwing me back to early sobriety when I thought that taking Step 3 would mean selling all my worldly possessions and moving to Calcutta to work with Mother Theresa. Having not been raised with any kind of punishing God, why do I so often wait for the other shoe to drop, as if one is only allowed so much good at a time? Do I really think that if I "turn it over" I'll be lead down a road I don't want to travel? So much of what I've read suggests that our heart's true longing will never lead us to a terrible place. Sure, sometimes I am asked to push myself a bit, but/and here I am - 71 years old,40 years sober, plugging along. 

I love this quote from Pico Iyer - "The fact that nothing lasts is why everything matters." Some decisions matter more than others - what to have for breakfast vs shall I take this job? And, the important piece for this alcoholic/alanon-ic is to pay attention. Am I reacting to the here and now, or something from there and then? Am I so stuck in my head that I don't notice the beauty around me? Am I so focused on my To-Do list that I shortchange the people who  might need my attention? I think of conversations with long-gone loved ones. Did I notice at the time how precious those relationships were? Did I say everything that needed to be said? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. I will say that one of my (smallish) regrets is that years ago now I think I saw a former co-worker at the grocery store, an older woman I sat next to for several years. I wasn't sure it was her, and didn't say anything. I'm now pretty sure it was her and wished I'd spoken up - a reminder that when my first instinct is to connect, or to be kind in some way, go for it. 

I'm reading an autobiography that references a movie about death, that when one gets to the pearly gates they must choose a memory to inhabit for eternity in order to pass through to heaven. Man, that has me thinking! Would it be my wedding day in 2011 A perfect date a few years earlier? An AA meeting on the beach in 1987, or hilarity with my cousins in the 1960's? How can anyone choose one memory, especially as a sober person? I'll continue to ponder that one, incredibly grateful that I have so much joy to choose from.

What is the road of happy destiny looking like for you this week? If you're in need of a flashlight, which Step(s) can guide your way? Is there a particular slogan or saying that brings you back to center? How do you remind yourself to pay attention if your mind wanders to the past or future? What might be a memory you'd inhabit if you needed to choose?

* * * * * *

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