I attended a great meeting last week with the topic, "How do we stay desperate" enough to maintain vigilance against the "ism" of the drink and the variously subtle mindsets that can lead us down the rabbit hole? I do think about that - how to keep it fresh and engaging after decades of abstinence, which is part of what motivated me to start this blog and write the Now What? workbook. Does "Expect a Miracle" apply only to the newcomer? Could "Put the Plug in the Jug" also come to mean the cauldron of old and negative ideas?

Desperation today looks very different than it did 30, or even 20, years ago when even a venture into a restaurant was fraught with previously automatic responses (pizza without a pitcher, no thanks to the wine menu). Desperation today stems from self-knowledge, and the practice of being honest with myself. Yes, the literature warns that self-knowledge alone isn't enough to maintain the daily reprieve, and after decades of inventory and meetings and working the steps with sponsors and sponsees, I can usually recognize when the disease comes knocking. It was self-awareness that reacted to the instinctual wondering if I'd feel anything by licking my hand where my mother's end-of-life morphine had spilled. It was self-honesty that triggered the "ding, ding, ding!" bells when I found myself making an excuse for a boyfriend who'd punched a hole in the wall. It is being honest with myself that leads me to pick up the phone (or send the email) when I'd rather figure it out myself.

Part of what keeps me desperate, or willing, is the still vivid memory of just how sick I was. I remember sitting on the toilet with a belt around my arm. I remember the morning I dropped a full blender (of a healthy smoothie!) as I passed out on the kitchen floor. I remember driving blotto with a hand over one eye and the windows down. I have physical scars from the methamphetamine years, but deeper emotional scars from the lies, arguments, deceptions and the painful look on loved one's faces as they confronted the various manifestations of my disease It is those "again's" that I hope to never repeat. And as I've written before, my alcoholism rarely shows up on a random Tuesday saying, "Hey, let's go have a drink!" I know that relapse is a series of decisions, of permission statements, of moving away from that which keeps me on the path. I don't walk around today with the same level of desperation I had in 1986, but today I have more to lose - so much more to be careful of - which is why I keep coming back. 

* * *

My husband got word this week that his first sponsor succumbed to liver cancer after a three year battle. I only met this man, in Berkeley, a few times, but was so impressed by his dedication to recovery and service. I will be forever indebted to the love of the program he passed on to my spouse, telling him, "Do the work and the gifts will follow." It is especially heartbreaking when our deaths are precipitated by the damage from long ago drinking and drugging. We truly do only have today. And as John F. advised the last time we saw him, "Don't wait until you have a diagnosis to take care of yourself." Truly,

* * *

I had what the old-timers would've called a "god-shot"  this week. In a conversation about desserts, I told my husband about Mom's chocolate cake, topped by delicious frosting that included a dollop of peanut butter. A few days later, I tackled my cookbook shelf as part of my on-going de-clutter project (as in, do I really need 3 Middle Eastern, 2 Indian and 3 vegetarian volumes?). I came across a small binder of Mom's I don't remember seeing before, titled "My Favorite Recipes." Right on top was a letter from my paternal grandmother (who died when I was 5) that opened with instructions for the frosting (start with a tablespoon of peanut butter and add more if you'd like). What are the odds? 

I try to be open to synchronicity, the paying attention to connections and coincidences, like the "Return to Sender" card that arrived after 2 months, on the day that an old friend paid tribute to my deceased first husband; the "I was literally getting ready to dial you!" from my best friend as she answers the phone when I call. I suppose there are mathematical explanations for seemingly random and coincidental occurrences, but I prefer to believe they are from the realm of spirit, of connection over time and space.

And connection over time and space is what we have right now as much of the country is on what Oregon is calling a "pause" as we again stay home to stay safe, and give our beleaguered health care professionals the semblance of a break. Do I like not going to the gym? No. Do I recognize that as a luxury problem? Definitely. Will I seek ways to help those who are struggling? Yes. And, I will do my part as we continue to cover uncharted territory.

How do you stay desperate enough to do the deal, one day at a time? How do you recognize when you are no longer teachable? Are you aware of your emotional and physical triggers? What helps you stay open to the synchronicity of reading the right thing at the right time, or running into just the person you were meant to meet?  

Take care, friends...   

  Just in time for holiday planning, or your year-end inventory:  (& note that prices will be going up effective 11/23)

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, at www.soberlongtime.com  to view the link to PayPal or Credit Card option.   Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com if you’d like more information. (my apologies, but with the link, you can only order 1 workbook at a time).