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.