I’m thinking about the phrase, “Knowledge is power.” Knowledge can be a stress inducer when I don’t like what I see coming down the pike, but is definitely a stress reducer when it takes me out of “what if?!” land. Knowing is better than not -  I’ve never been all that great with ambiguity. Give me what you’ve got so I can make a decision or plot a course of action, whether that was learning about the disease of addiction, a project at work, the course of a 10k or marathon, or a medical prognosis.

I’m feeling a sense of relief after an intense last week that included a physician giving my friend the nuts and bolts of various treatment options. None of them are stellar (as in, no cure) but they are fairly concrete, not nebulous, sugar-coated “maybe’s.” The end is coming. It is time to get affairs in order.  

And what a strange and beautiful conversation it is to be having. Personally, I hope to have a lead in to my demise. I’m a planner, though as my mother pointed out, we can’t exactly plan this (she took exception with the hospice declaration that she had less than 6 months and lived for 8 months, at least partly out of “I’ll show you!”) but we, I, can take steps to make things easier for ourselves and those left behind. There are several components to dying – the physical aspect of illness and decline, the huge emotional letting go and all that goes in to that, and there is the business end of things – healthcare wishes, financial plans, etc. It is hard to juggle when all one might want to do is curl up in a ball.  My friend has a great attitude, saying, “My spirits are good, but my health is poor.” More will be revealed, more will be decided.

And, my dear spouse has started his treatment, with no hitches day on day one. He can do this. We can do this, one appointment at  a time.

As it is January, I am consciously working Step One. What I realize is that the Step says, “We admitted we were powerless…” It’s not like I had power and now I don’t. “Admitted” implies an acknowledgement of the facts.  I am not in control of cancer, of the weather, etc, etc, etc. It’s when I wrestle in the slippery mud of the illusion of control that my life becomes more and more unmanageable.

My initial Step One experience was one of relief – exhaling into my alcoholism, not as a moral issue, but as a sickness. When I struggle with control vs surrender these days, it is that relief I seek. I can convince myself, out of fear, that surrender is hard, but really, it is the hanging on that is difficult. Closed fist or open palm - what is my choice to be?  And, am I willing to cut myself some slack if I sometimes catch myself grasping?

What is Step One saying to you in this first month of the new year? How do you show the same compassion for yourself when you stumble, that you would to a friend?