Wednesday, September 30, 2020

 I attended a great (online) meeting this week focused on healing relationships as we integrate the principles of recovery, and the understanding that healing our relationships with others comes out of healing our relationship with ourselves. I can't give away what I don't have, and that includes respect, honesty and compassion. I'm reminded of "Let it begin with me," as well as "More will be revealed."

I think of my Alanon journey, going to my first meeting hoping to get my heroin-addicted boyfriend clean and sober. As we grew apart, I realized that despite my initial doubts, I had been affected by my father's alcoholism and I turned my focus to unraveling the wounds I'd carried forward. It was complicated. My father sobered up when I was 12, and any impact on my psyche from his disease was subtle, related more to what felt missing in the emotional department than anything specifically done, and certainly not about anything done to me. Because he had passed, about 5 years earlier, I was able to deal with the emotions around our history on a piecemeal basis - some therapy here, some inventory there, another go-round a year or two later. But my mom was right here, interacting with me on a weekly, if not daily basis. For a brief period, she became the enemy. Why hadn't she....?  Why didn't she....?  Didn't she realize....?  

With the guidance of a strong sponsor, well-versed in adult-child issues, I came to see that I was looking for a combination of Betty Crocker and my therapist. I wanted mom to understand me, read my mind. It was me, me, me - which is probably a stage of early recovery. But I recall being in an AA meeting, a few years in, hearing a woman in her 50's complain about her mother - they hadn't talked for months, she hated the idea of seeing her, etc. Hearing that long festering resentment, my still, small voice whispered, "I don't want to be angry forever." So, I made the conscious decision to initiate the difficult conversation when the subject of dad's drinking years came up. Was it perfect? No, but I did the best I could at the time. Part of my growing up was coming to understand that she (or anyone) couldn't know what I was feeling unless I told them. What a concept, and still sometimes a challenge.

Mom and I had many years of a solid and loving relationship as I allowed her to be human, learning  to talk with her (not at her), and to really listen when she spoke. I went in to Alanon for my addict lover and ended up healing the relationship with my mom - not what I'd anticipated. Once again, I'm grateful that my recovery hasn't been limited by what I thought I needed.

For those who died before I had the spiritual bandwidth to even consider amends and forgiveness, the healing has taken place when what I know with my intellect moves those excruciating 12 inches into my heart. I can help that process along with inventory and writing letters to burn, for example, but the shift comes when I finally let go of my need to control the uncontrollable. I wish I understood that mysterious process, but all I can really do is make myself ready to be changed. 

I'd always heard that the road gets narrower in long term recovery. At first that bothered me - I'd hoped for easier and smoother, not a narrow little alley. But I've come to understand that it means I know my parameters today. I can see the path rather than stumbling around in the dark. My gut guides me today, with a heavy dose of the 12 Steps. It really is a road of happy destiny.

How has your relationship to yourself impacted your relationships with others - those people you are close to or those you interact with in the world? If there is unfinished business, how might you use Steps 8 & 9 to move forward?


I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery” is a 78 page workbook, 8 ½ x11 format, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view and processing questions. Available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 N.E. 20th or online through this blog page. If you would like to purchase online, you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of this page to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com if you’d like more information.



Wednesday, September 23, 2020

 The recent week-plus air quality alert, and preceding wind storm in Portland had me in a place of appreciating my usual freedoms, and how much I take for granted in my daily life - electricity, clean air to breathe, the ability to go outside. Driving home from an abbreviated trip to Central Oregon, barely able to see more than a couple of car lengths ahead, I thought about all those who were being displaced from their homes, and who may or may not have homes to return to.

I am very fortunate in that I did not need to heed Level I (prepare), II (be ready) or III (go!) evacuation orders, but that hasn't stopped me from reading all the "how to get ready" instructions popping up on the internet. While working, I attended a couple of classes on Emergency Preparedness, usually related to earthquakes, or as we say here in the NW, "The Big One" that is due. We have a good stash of provisions - a battery charged radio, a solar phone charger, a can opener, for example, but I don't yet have a "leave now" bag. 

Going over a list of what to take, depending on whether you have 15, 30 or 60 minutes to prepare, I made a mental checklist. Most of what is on the 15 and 30 minute list are paperwork items: checkbook, cash, passport, insurance documents and the like. Important, yes, but I found myself in tears thinking of what really matters. Most of what is in our home is replaceable, or, as in photographs and music, already "in the cloud." But what of the irreplaceable? What about the little container of Mom's ashes, or my 1st husband's? What about the framed card from my step-daughter where she describes me as the "best step-mom ever" or our wedding album? What about my journal from 1986 when I first got sober, or all my marathon medals? Just stuff, yes, but stuff imbued with the essence of family history and my own. I know that it is the intangibles that really matter - friendships and integrity, love and service, and it has been helpful to jot down what of the things in our home would be important to grab. I'm told that having a list helps, so there is less confusion in the event of a "go now" situation.

* * *

Andy Capp, a cartoon character, is quoted in one of my daily readers:  "I'm doing more and more for the last time and less and less for the first time."   Yes. I'm still doing much of what I've always done, though joined a walking group instead of running, but I do have my eye on how my priorities are shifting. I know that not everyone who reads this blog is an elder - I just helped celebrate the 27th anniversary of a friend who came in when she was 20, so is now just 47 - but many of you are in the "don't drink and don't die" club of "how to become an old-timer," which comes with a new, or deepening sense of time and of importance. There is less acquiring and more releasing, less striving and more relaxing into what is. I recently read on the Next Avenue website (www.nextavenue.org) that "Around midlife we experience what's known as a 'shift in time perspective,' which means we begin to think about the time we have between this moment and the end of life. We start to realize that life is finite and that opportunities for a do-over are less likely"  (Suzanne Degges-White, College of Education, Northern Illinois University). I'm not too concerned with do-overs - fortunately with the principles of our programs, I don't generally get too far down the "oh crap..." pathway. But I do realize that this life is finite. Will I ever get to India, or back to the UK? Will I write another novel, or learn Spanish? Hard to say. I do know that if I truly want something (vs a vague wish), it will come to me because I will put in the effort. Where do I want to spend my effort today?

And welcome autumn! I have several friends who are summer people, happiest when the sun is at its height, but I am completely and thoroughly a fall. I love the cool mornings and longer nights; the switch from tank tops to long sleeves and from sandals to shoes and socks. I love the fading garden and last tomatoes of the season, the move from salads to soups and the sense of a new beginning (most likely a leftover from past school days). And I especially love falling asleep to the sound of rain on the roof, the lullaby of my childhood (in my upstairs bedroom with our home's lack of insulation!) I celebrate the Equinox, and this year marvel at how very different the world is from spring when we'd just begun to shut down due to the pandemic. I don't think I'm alone in that I had absolutely no idea what was ahead, and that six months later we'd be talking about how to safely get through the end of the year. One day at a time. One day at a time.

If you were to make a list of what really and truly matters, what would it say? If you had an hour to leave your home, what would you hope to take? When you think about your remaining time on the planet (knowing that none of us has a crystal ball), what it is you would like to do, either again or for the first time? 



Thank you to those who are continuing to order my workbook.  Please contact me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with any questions or input, and feel free to pass it on if you have friends who might appreciate the process.

I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery” is a 78 page workbook, 8 ½ x11 format, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view and processing questions. Available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 N.E. 20th or online through this blog page. If you would like to purchase online, you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of this page to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   






  




Wednesday, September 16, 2020

 It is September, a time for focus on Step 9: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible except when to do so would injure them or others.

As the Step specifies, sometimes the best amends I can make is to simply leave the person alone. I'm thinking of someone I was determined to do my duty to, despite their ignoring several attempts at contact. When I saw them walking on the street near where I worked at the time, my first instinct was to march on over and force my amends, brandishing the 12 Steps like a sword. With a breath, my better nature kicked in as I realized that if they'd wanted to talk with me, they surely would've responded to my efforts, so I kept walking. Truthfully, I was still holding on to anger for their faults, so any amends would not have been genuine. That was over 30 years ago, and we've never crossed paths since, but in this past year, they showed up in a dream. I was happy to see them and we talked like old friends. I can trust that if we are supposed to meet, it will happen, and know that today, any rancor from the past is gone. Time does heal.  A similar situation came up recently with a relationship I'd constructed all sorts of stories around, along the lines of "But what did I do wrong?" and "Why won't they.....?"  I ran in to them, said hello and got a friendly greeting back, and decided in the moment that I didn't need to dredge up what I'd been stewing on. Sometimes, keeping my mouth shut is the best course. I have several trusted others to  process any given situation with and don't necessarily need to expose my vulnerability with those who don't speak the language of recovery. Long term sobriety has come with the gift of discernment. 

On another note entirely, we just spent three nights out of town, coming home a day early due to the wildfire smoke. I often use, "We're on vacation!" as an excuse to eat with abandon those things that are normally on my "Do not..." list (sugar, processed foods, MORE of everything). While I do feel better when eating clean, I can get to a place of deprivation, a place of being sick and tired of watching what I put in my mouth. Long story short, I overdid, and paid for it with an upset stomach that lasted a couple of days. How alcoholic is that? "It will be different this time!" Ha! Rarely. Even with years of sobriety, I don't have a "moderate" switch. I know that about myself, yet still sometimes say, "F-it!" because the allure of "fun" lurks just below the surface of rational thought. I suppose it's a gift that my slips are limited to a few days of eating nachos and ice cream - I have absolutely no illusions that I could drink or use drugs "normally" (if that's even a thing). In any event, stomach settled and back to my more usual routine of healthy, whole foods. 

* * *

Opinion Alert: As I sequester in my home to avoid the worst air quality in the world, I find myself hoping that this year will be a "hindsight is 20/20" moment where we humans get our collective heads out of our butts and wake up. I was in a meeting the other day where one of the members was weeping with sadness over the isolation, the animals killed in the fires, the inability to go outside, the inability to do the next right thing because who knows what's next? It's not just one thing after another, it is one thing on top of another, then another, then another. I can be more than grateful for my(relative) safety and security and heartbroken for the devastation here with the fires, and in the south with the hurricanes. My cats and I are a little stir crazy indoors, and I am grateful for an indoors to be in. 

This truly is where acceptance comes in to play. We can argue all day about what contributed to the fires, or the high covid numbers, or systemic racism, or poverty, or all the other things we Americans argue about these days, but the fact is, here we are. I don't like surrendering to what makes me angry or causes great sadness, but without acceptance of what is, my feelings are just that - feelings, which are only productive if they lead me to an insight and then ideally to an action. "Ain't it awful" does little to move me, or the world, forward. By myself, I am powerless over so much, but I do believe in the collective power of the good. It is a fine line between anger that simply simmers, and anger that nudges me towards a loving and helpful action. The volume of need can be overwhelming, which in itself is a sign of my privilege. I don't know the answer to that, other than paying attention to where my heart is stirred and act accordingly.

How do you recognize when you are falling off your self-care agenda, and how do you get yourself back on the beam? What is the status of your support network, as in, when is the last time you talked with someone outside your immediate family or household? (and texting doesn't really count). How do you reconcile the concept of acceptance when much of what is happening in the world can feel unacceptable? How can you turn frustrations into action, small or large,  in order to avoid the hamster wheel of negativity?  

Thank you for reading... Take care of yourself.


I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery” is a 78 page workbook, 8 ½ x11 format, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view and processing questions. Available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 N.E. 20th or online through this blog page. If you would like to purchase online, you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of this page to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com if you’d like more information.










 

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

 After spending much of August wandering the wrong direction on Memory Lane, I came to in the present - here and now. My melancholy was understandable given my contact with those from the past, as well as important anniversaries, and I choose to move forward, not backward. I want to fully inhabit my days so that I don't blink twice and ask, "What happened to September?!" I want to practice presence, attention, and delight in small things, which is a conscious choice. As we know, it is one day at a time - simple, yet complex for this planner and remember-er.

We've been attending an online speaker/discussion meeting on Fridays - always good to hear someone else's perspective on life and recovery. Last week's speaker shared how she was driven by concerns of what others thought of her, starting in her early teens. I could so relate. My under-grad degree is in Human Development, and I recall being slightly embarrassed to learn about the psychological concept, common in adolescents, of the imaginary audience - the belief that the world and its people are very interested in what I'm doing and how I look. I developed that trait early and kept it late, thinking that I didn't matter unless you said I did, that my insides would change if my outside circumstances did, that I would be OK if this, this and this wish came true, or if that magic "someone" liked me back. While most of those early decisions about the world and my place in it were unconscious, I do remember realizing in high school that when I was drunk, I didn't care what others thought about me - freedom! At least the false freedom of an altered state. After high school, I got married, then divorced, lived a life of luxury and glamor, converted to another faith, started using hard drugs - lots of changes to my circumstances. But as we say, wherever I went, there I was. Neither fancy clothes or expensive hotel suites, a different name for god, or a steady supply of my drug of choice, changed who I was when the lights went out and the still, small voice kept whispering, "This isn't you."  

Shifting from an external to an internal locus of control took time - time and inventory and outside help - before I understood, on a deep level, that I alone was responsible for my happiness or lack thereof. That journey started just a year or two into sobriety when I made plans to meet my meth cook, mostly- ex-boyfriend, at his family's place at the coast. I had visions of a romantic weekend, packing candles and fresh flowers to set the mood. I sat on the steps of the tiny cabin for an hour, left for lunch and came back to a still empty driveway, before checking in to a motel (this was before cell phones). As I decorated my little ocean view room with the flowers, and lit the candles while making a cup of tea, I realized that I certainly couldn't depend on this particular person for happiness, and in reality, I was the only one who could supply the validation I sought. The guy eventually showed up, as was par for the course, but once I'd fully conceded to my innermost self that he wasn't "the one," there was no going back. I didn't abandon all hope, and continued to try to get him clean and sober (much promotion, little attraction), but he was no longer my higher power. Others did take his place on the altar in the ensuing years, but bit by bit the pedestal got smaller until I came to know that those I was in relationship with were merely humans after all. 

Speaking of humans, while in line at the Post Office, I observed, as in all the lines I stand in these days, every single person (couples too) had their heads bent over their phones. It made me think of the 2014 study that indicated most people would prefer to give themselves an electric shock rather than sit alone with their thoughts for 15 minutes (see link below). I'm reminded of the Step 5 quote, "We can be alone at perfect peace and ease" (AA  p. 75). I can be alone, and I no longer need to hide from you. Sometimes, it is best to simply stand in line without distractions. How can my imagination be fired if I'm constantly digesting images from a screen?

Patience and tolerance, learning to validate myself rather than looking outward, and staying in the present (as in, one day at a time) are my lessons of the week. My first sponsor used to talk about remaining teachable. I can pay attention to what comes up again and again, in my daily inventories or conflicts with others, perceived or otherwise. Is there a behavior I need to learn or unlearn, or is it self-acceptance that calls to me? Possibly a little of both. I'll keep coming back until I'm sure.

Where are you on the journey from external to internal motivation? How do you occupy your time when waiting in line, or on a warm summer day with no plans? Are you comfortable with your own company at least some of the time?

Here in the western U.S., fires are raging, while a friend in New Mexico is getting snow. I do hope you are safe, wherever you are.  Take care.

(https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2014/07/people-prefer-electric-shocks-to-being-alone-with-their-thoughts/373936/)


I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery” is a 78 page workbook, 8 ½ x11 format, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view and processing questions. Available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 N.E. 20th or online through this blog page. If you would like to purchase online, you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of this page to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com if you’d like more information.

 

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

 I've experienced the "we" of the program this week as I've listened to those in meetings talk about the importance of connection, and how contact with other sober people is part of their spiritual life. My imagination is fired, like it says in the book, with conversations and observations of others walking the path. My fire was lit when a friend/sponsee phoned early on Sunday to share her excitement following an international meeting she'd attended. My fire was lit when a sponsee phoned on Tuesday to share her excitement around her new sponsee. Like a candle being passed around the circle, your fire lights mine, and mine can then light another's.

We had a couple of large Tree of Heaven (an invasive species) removed from the yard last week, leaving a blank slate for future planting. I'm not particularly talented with analogy, but it did strike me, as I surveyed what looks apocalyptic, that this is a metaphor for my life at the moment. What was (career, workday schedule, identity) is no longer, and like the garden, the new has yet to be planted. When I can do is till the soil and make myself (& the yard) ready for whatever comes next. Exciting! I used to be at least a little afraid of starting over, of new beginnings, not sure what the future would bring. Today, with a lifetime of experience behind me, I am more comfortable with the opportunity for change.

In a meeting on the surrender of Step 3, a member shared that making a decision can be a powerful act. I tend to think of the defeat that leads me to the cry for help after all my efforts have been exhausted. But there is power in the flattening; strength in that place of saying, "I can't do this anymore." I feel fortunate that the big surrenders of earlier recovery are memories, however, the daily reminder-to-self that I'm not in charge of the universe is sometimes harder - definitely more subtle. It would seem that the daily reprieve has to do with not only my addictions, but my emotional well being too. What is it I need to do today to strengthen my ability to pause? How am I practicing the principles of recovery in real life, not just in my mind? (For me, that means contacting my sponsor or talking with a friend when strong emotions get triggered, when I'd usually rather keep it to myself. Again, the "we.")

I drove just under two hours north over the weekend to visit with a good friend who'd driven an hour and a half south. Our neighbors are on a journey to the Canadian border to visit with their daughter  across a barrier. At my recent party, we wore masks as we danced. I wear a mask at my sparsely attended yoga class, and to lift weights, as well as to grocery shop, etc. etc. etc. These are interesting times. Interesting and a little scary, though I've not gone near any large crowds. My spouse is on the front lines, masked and gloved, as is a good friend who is a healthcare worker. I do my best to be safe, and sensible, without giving in to paranoia or outright fear, whether that is sitting, appropriately distanced, in our outdoor AA meetings, or passing someone on the hiking trail. One day at a time, and doing the next right thing are slogans that come to mind. This too shall pass? I imagine, though hard to say when or how. In the meantime, I will stay home more than I go out. I will continue my spiritual practices. I will stay connected to friends and significant others. And, I will practice self-care when  loading up on sweets, or skipping a meeting I otherwise enjoy, sounds more appealing. I am grateful for the many tools of recovery that I can call on to deal with life on life's terms.

Are there particular slogans or recovery tools that are helping you navigate these challenging times? What does the "daily reprieve" mean to you in long term recovery? How are you more comfortable with change than you might've been in the past?                     ~ Thank you for reading. Stay safe, wherever you are.


I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery” is a 78 page workbook, 8 ½ x11 format, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view and processing questions. Available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 N.E. 20th or online through this blog page. If you would like to purchase online, you will need to go to the WEB VERSION of this page to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com if you’d like more information.