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?

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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?

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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

Secrets and ism's

 A meeting this week on the topic of Steps 4/5 evolved into discussion of secrets. and the gratitude of living in such a way that I/we don't need to lie anymore. In talking about childhood, several spoke of family secrets. I don't exactly relate to that. Dad was alcoholic, as was my uncle (and several others) but Mom and his sister talked about it fairly openly and I came to understand it as a sickness, though didn't really understand what that meant. Rather than a secret, I just think that we (me, cousins, close friends) didn't have language to talk about what went on at home. I knew my uncle could be violent and my dad was sad, but emotional maturity and vocabulary would come much later.

Of course I lied as a kid, all the time. I wasn't about to tell Mom about the shoplifting or sneaking out, talking too much in class or in trouble for eating candy when I wasn't supposed to. If I'd had the words, maybe I could've said I felt stifled by the quiet at home, the somber mood with Dad's depression, and that stealing and running around and later drinking made me feel alive. Instead, I fibbed to her, and talked with friends about the TV show we'd just watched, or the cousin's older brothers' cute friends. Honestly talking about how I felt came later, with a few drinks, and even then I was more or less guessing - taking a stab at what I thought was right.

In Speaking of Faith, by Krista Tippett, this journalist and theology student writes about her participation, at a spirituality based institute, sitting around a table with strangers, talking about their truths, and the beauty in sharing honestly and in detail about feelings and spiritual longings. Anyone in 12 Step would say, "Well duh!"  That's what can happen for us in the sacred circle, the imaginary campfire, where we can access our innermost thoughts. Not every time in every meeting of course, but there are times when the room almost levitates with the poignancy of our collective heart-speak. It's like dominoes, with one sharing opening the door for another. Sometimes meeting shares are one's spiel, the pitch, but sometimes I hear the cosmic exhale of capital "T" truth, the truth that brings tears to my eyes whether I directly relate to the topic or not. Being real continues to feel immense. 

I've seen my ism's at work this week with a change of plans for a trip planned later this spring. A couple of people have dropped out, which has me re-thinking my plan, which had me in a bit of a frenzy with "Do something NOW!" before I had all the facts. I am, sometimes quickly, usually slowly, learning to pause and gather information before taking action. By the end of the day's texts, one of the remaining travelers suggested that I do this instead of that, resulting in my "Oh yeah - that's a great idea!" Because I'd waited before acting, I didn't have to try to undo an impulsive decision. Funny how that works.

I can trace that "do it now!" impulse back to growing up with alcoholism - the fear of missing out if the parents change their mind. Related to the family illness or not, I am still not very comfortable with ambiguity, though time and experience has, time and time again, showed me that all will be well, that all is well. And the best piece of advice I've ever received - if it's a good idea today, it will be a good idea tomorrow.  Indeed.

What secrets did you keep, as a child or a practicing alcoholic?  Have you been able to share those with a sponsor or trusted other? Where do your ism''s show up these days? Are you able to take a step back to recognize when you're about to act on an old idea?

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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

How important is it?

 My spouse shared on Step 7 at a speaker meeting this week, and 7 will be the focus of my next sponsor meeting, so I'm thinking about "humbly asked" for our defects/unhelpful characteristic/defenses to be removed. 

The higher power that I don't understand does not sit on a cloud with a magic wand, waving my annoying characteristics away. If/when I'm truly inhabiting Step 7 related to a particular way of being, it is very likely that said habit or behavior will be in my face, almost daring me to do the same old thing, or shift my response even 2 or 3%. Awareness, being awake and conscious of how I am in the world is the first component of change. though I can't change based on self-knowledge alone. I also can't change what I don't accept. If I am fighting a particular part of my personality, it is the fight that gets the energy and psychic attention. What might happen if I said, "Ah, here I am again acting impulsively" or judging or whatever it is that comes up? If, as the 7th Step prayer says, "I'm now willing that you have all of me," might that be an acknowledgement of my humanness?   

The Alternative 12-Steps (M. Cleveland and Arlys G) describes Step 7 as  "Work honestly, humbly and courageously to develop our assets and to release our personal shortcomings." To me, "release" is gentle, progress not perfection, one decision at a time - which always comes back to the "pause." Pause ... and beware of the seemingly automatic.

I had the beginning of a funky day last week, setting out to pick up one of my regular cancer patients for her treatment, only to discover a flat tire. Sigh. A flurry of phone calls and texts to let her know, and to get roadside assistance, limping to the tire store for a 2 hour wait, and eventually back into my plans and designs for the day. When working, I used to pause in the parking lot and say, "I wonder how my agenda will be disrupted today?" knowing that it would, because people are people, both staff and clients. I could continue that practice as a retired person. Usually, my days are fairly predictable, and then...  And then, in the grand scheme of things, I have a safe place to sleep and enough to eat; people I love and who love me back; my health and my sobriety. As we ask in Alanon, "How important is it?"

"How important is it?" implies that there are things that matter, Do I allow myself to get quiet in the midst of a frenzy to determine whether I'll be concerned with the particular snafu/worry in 2 years, 2 months, or even 2 weeks? I've mentioned here before that I was instructed to open my "god box" every few years, noting what took care of itself and what is no longer a problem. I'm about due for that process, but will say that the last time I did it, I couldn't even remember some of the thing I'd written down. 

I'm assuming the disruption of the house-siding project will fit in that category, eventually. There are a few small jobs that need doing, but overall, we're done until painters come when the weather warms up. My spouse and I are both creatures of habit, and those habits have been mightily disrupted, with pounding and drilling, sleeping in the guest room, furniture moved around, cats showing their own dis-ease... And, today, all is well, all is quiet.

Speaking of quiet, I ran into our neighbor/homeowner - their rental next door to us has been empty for a few weeks as they make repairs and decide whether to sell or rent again, noting that there was 1800 pounds of trash hauled away. Wow. I'm sure for them, but for us too, it's been a challenge, with roommates coming and going (with and without notifying the rental agent), dogs barking for literally hours whilst their person was away, people here today and replaced the next. I chalk much of it up to urban living, and, there again, stability matters on this street with families, school age kids, and early risers (that would be me),  Definitely Serenity Prayer territory - what, if anything is in my control? Not much, other than perhaps reaching out to the new tenants when they move in. It's a lot easier to say, "Please be quiet" or "can you adjust your parking a few feet" to someone I have even a tiny relationship with, rather than in the heat of the moment if we've never talked. How important is it? And, let it begin with me. Also, stay in the day! Right now the house is empty. Anticipating is not helpful.

Yesterday would've been  my mom's 100th birthday. In honor of that, I took myself to a local cemetery, to visit the Wind Phone, a sort of arty, sort of woo-woo installation - a little open faced structure with an old fashioned pay phone inside - hooked up to nothing, going nowhere, but a real phone to dial the first  number I ever memorized. I cried a little, and laughed a little, and told Mom what I'd been up to, though in my belief system, she'd already know all that. It was sweet, and then I drove to the gas station, carrying on with my day. Grief is more a familiar companion these days, vs the acute loss of  early months. Time does heal - if not completely, at least the jagged edges are smoothed. 

In the midst of an upset, how do you get quiet in order to hear your inner voice of reason? What comes up when you're aware of/practicing Step 7? Where might you apply "How important is it?" today? How have you made friends with your grieving? How can the Steps help that process?

(If interested, search "Wind Phone near me" for one in your area. This started in Japan, but they are in many different locations these days)

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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