I chaired a meeting this week on the dichotomy of feeling like I'm not "enough" while also thinking I know what it is you need to do. The reading I referenced (Courage to Change, July 26) pointed out that my efforts at control are an illusion - I am only in charge of myself. And, as was pointed out in the meeting, the feeling that I'm not ok is illusion as well. 

What stories have I used to justify my actions and dress up my false beliefs as facts? I used to think that I was a defect of character, that I was broken, that the answers to my problems were outside of me - the right relationship, right job, right clothes, etc. Time, Step work, therapy and sponsorship, as well as simply growing up, have walked me down a different path - one of greater self-acceptance and understanding that, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz (which I recently watched for the 1,000th time), "There's no place like home." That which I seek is already in my heart, if I but listen. 

Another old storyline had to do with my ability to fix you. I remember buying a pair of snowshoes for an ex, who had depression, because we went once and he liked it, a rock polishing kit because he admired a friend's collection, and drawing supplies because he'd done that in the past. The illusion was that I could have his "ah-ha" moment for him and, thus, get him off the couch. Like with my dad all those years ago, I thought he'd be ok if I came up with just the right formula. It took our break up to realize my attempts at control (otherwise known as being helpful), trying to arrange the actor and the scenery to my liking, not because I'd been asked to do so. Lessons.

A sub-topic of the meeting was a question I heard years ago: What if god really is running the show? Or, from a secular viewpoint, "What would it be like to fully accept that I am not in charge?" What does it really mean to surrender? Not to an entity, but to the knowledge that I'm ok, that life has a way of working itself out, that if I focus on today, I can walk through just about anything by getting out of my own way.  I had a good talk this week with someone who doesn't know that yet, who has forgotten she simply cannot know how she'll be feeling next February or March or April. "2020" is all I'll say on the topic, as in, "Who saw that one coming?"

Which is the primary lesson I've learned this past year - I can plan, but I cannot predict, having to do with travel and parties and my own growth trajectory; with friendships and meetings and how I will navigate what's ahead. For the past 16-17 years I've hosted a women's Solstice circle where we talk about what we want to leave behind and what we hope to embrace as the new year looms. This year, like nearly everything else, we met on Zoom. I was inspired by our resilience in the face of personal struggles, and our ability to practice the principles of recovery even when things are crappy. I breathed in and exhaled deeply as women shared about letting go of outcomes, the importance of self-care, the gift of focusing on the positive, and the newly honed understanding that I am, truly, powerless over so very much. 

What I'm not powerless over are my actions, my thoughts, or my feelings. (As I've read, I'm powerless over my first thought, but not the second.) Along with how life has changed in the time of Covid, I think about the gifts of this past year: My relationship with my first husband's daughter that continues to deepen and grow, my spouse's recovery from cancer and our redefinition of what matters, the ability to get outdoors, alone and with friends; the gift of our online meetings and long phone calls, the joy of getting and receiving mail. The relative isolation of the pandemic has definitely highlighted the importance of relationships that I took for granted when connecting in person was easy. 

And so, as this year draws to a close, I look forward with hopeful anticipation. In our previous life, a long time member of AA handed out small white "surrender" flags for sobriety anniversaries. Mine rests in a mug decorated with a grid of the London Underground, along with a random collection of pens and dull pencils. Instead of looking past this little banner as I sit at my desk, I will use it as a visual reminder of the freedom I feel when I get to the spiritual place of letting go. 

How are you feeling about the approaching year? What hopes and dreams are quietly tapping at your door? During these darkest days of the year, try to take some quiet time to listen, and perhaps, to write them down.

** Just in time for your year-end inventory  (See the 11/17/20 blog entry  for a chapter sample)

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).