Triggered by yet another go-round in Mom's boxes of photos and papers, I've been thinking about what would happen to this stuff were I to get hit by a truck tomorrow - the mess I'd be leaving for my spouse and my brother. I knew all along that having someone to pass on my grandmother's desk to wasn't reason enough to have children, but sometimes I do think, wistfully, of the fact that my particular family line ends here (my brother didn't reproduce either). When I mentioned that to said brother a few years ago, he pointed out that, after a generation or two, all of us are reduced to an old photo, and someone's, "Oh yeah, that was Aunt So & So. She died before I was born." I know that, yet the human desire to be remembered, to have made a difference, remains on some level, to varying degrees. A friend, also child-free, (or childless, depending on your perspective) recently asked if I regretted not having children. Sometimes, and more so after Mom died with the untethered sensation of no one ahead of me and no one behind. 

I wrestled with actually making that decision, however, and as part of my process, checked a couple of books out of the library (yet again, I'm not the only one with a particular issue). One author suggested journaling in one color of ink when I felt the baby urge, and another color when I was in neutral or "no" mode. That was telling, and a strategy I've used for other decisions. I also "heard" the statement that I would have regrets whichever I chose. Of course I would. Having kids would've brought blessings and amazing experiences that I'll never know, while if I'd had a family, I likely would've missed out on many of the events that have made my life rich and full. And, here I am, with twists of fate that brought me an awesome step-daughter, and now my "pre-step daughter" from my first husband. Life turns out the way it turns out. Today, after mailing off yet another packet of letters and photos to a cousin, I relax into memories (my mother's and my own) and can be realistic about the remaining boxes of historical flotsam, a little more fearless and thorough each time through. 

I've been on a mission to pick up discarded covid masks on my daily walks - one day, five in a two block radius. I clean the cloth masks with boiling water, then launder, and donate. The paper ones have the ear straps cut (to save wildlife from getting caught) before discarding. I've just joined Adopt One Block, making a commitment to clean up my block once a week - I'll be the crazy old lady with the pincher claw, wandering up and down the avenue! This practice is a good reminder that I can't clean up the neighborhood in one sweep, nor a lifetime of mementos in an afternoon. One box at a time, one day at a time, one block at a time (I'll take my analogies where I can find them!)

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This week marks my 35th anniversary in Alanon. I went to that first meeting to save my heroin addicted boyfriend's life. That didn't happen, and I came to the harsh realization that I can't have someone else's "ah-ha" moment for them. Then, the decades-long journey to understand how growing up with alcoholism impacted my understanding of myself, especially in regards to romantic relationships. As it says in Courage to Change, I can now "look at the past without staring,"  appreciating my dad's love for me, and who he was as an individual. The last 10+ years in Alanon have been about being married - navigating those tough first years of acclimating to a different way of being in the world (and in the kitchen!), as well as now relaxing into the sweetness and comfort of a long-term relationship (while keeping an eye on my isms!). I am so very thankful for the way that AA and Alanon have intersected over my years in recovery. I used to wonder which came first -the chicken or the egg? It doesn't really matter. I have been impacted by alcoholism - other people's and my own. And, thanks to Bill and Bob, Lois and Ann and all the rest, I have a program for living, a program for healing.

I've been writing about regrets lately, real or transitory. Maybe it's the stirring of spring in the air, or covid and weather-related claustrophobia. In any event, I was once told that it was ok to talk about something until I didn't need to talk about it anymore. What does that mean to you? How do you process the emotions that have begun to feel like an old, irritating friend?  What might it feel like if you gave yourself permission to simply muddle through the hard stuff, whether boxes of memories or a persistent troublesome characteristic? 

I’ve Been Sober a Long Time – Now What? A workbook for the Joys & Challenges of Long Term Recovery”  -  a 78 page spiral bound workbook, 8 ½ x11, with topics (such as grief, aging, sponsorship) that include a member’s view, processing questions, and space for writing.  (See the 11/17/20 blog entry  for a chapter sample) 

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). ( I offer a price break for locals who can pick up their copy - $15)

 In a meeting this week, several people asked themselves a variation of "Who's driving the bus?" as in, am I in my own way? It made me think of when I was six or seven, and the family car got stuck atop a boulder in the middle of our lane on the Santiam Highway traveling between Bend and Portland (before I-84 was constructed). Both parents got out of the car to investigate, and the vehicle started to roll, with a drop off to our left. Well into my recovery, I had a recurring dream of being in the back seat of a moving car with no one driving, waking with a heartbeat of fear. After several years of Step work and therapy, I had the same dream yet again. This time, my dad was in the back seat with me. Terrified, I pleaded with him to drive. He said no, and I realized that I needed to climb in front and drive myself. Sometimes dreams are just dreams - Jeanine TV - but sometimes, a healing occurs with a shift from the unconscious to conscious mind. Most days now, I drive the bus, aided by the "GPS" of my spiritual resources. I drive, but occasionally still have doubts as to whether I'm pointed in the "right" direction.

One of my Alanon daily readers recently addressed the topic of how, sometimes, our innate creativity and motivations are stymied when growing up with alcoholism, when we might not have gotten the support and encouragement we could've benefited from. That made me think about paths not taken when I was young and directionless. Sometimes I envy those who've seemed to always know where they were headed and what they'd do once they got there. 

Thinking along those lines caused me to remember my first husband, who, upon learning that his cancer was terminal, wondered if maybe he should've "lived" more, as in chased more women, traveled, explored the world. He had some regret that mostly what he'd done was go to work every day, until such time as he couldn't. My mother, on the other hand, wondered if she'd be forgiven for however she may have hurt people (though I'd have a hard time coming up with anyone who held ill-will towards her). Walking with both these dear people at the end of their lives did lead me to my own questions, as does the reading mentioned above. Have I done all I was supposed to do? What may be ahead on the path? What if I'd pushed myself a little harder, or further beyond my comfort zones?

Not everyone who reads this blog is an elder, but many are. As they used to say, you become an old-timer if you don't die and you don't drink. I suppose that evaluating one's life is pretty normal when the time ahead is much less than the time behind. I can certainly engage in morbid anticipation and reflection, thinking about the "what if's."  Or, I can pivot to gratitude for all the things I have done, the people I've known and loved, adventures taken. What is my choice to be? Probably both. Some days, triggered by a song, or simply the way winter trees look against the gray sky, I'll head down the road not traveled, where the story could've taken on an entirely different direction. Other days, prompted by another song, a share in a meeting, or conversation with an old friend, I'll celebrate the choices made, and the paths I did follow. 

Much of my "work" in 12 Step programs has been around self-knowledge, along with accountability (to self and others), striving for the feeling of being comfortable in my own skin. Sometimes, though, I wonder if I pay too much attention to my "ever changing moods" (Style Council, circa 1984). A good friend once said, "I have lots of emotions during the day - I just don't need to attach a sentence to every one of them." Where is the balance?

In his book, Yearnings: Ancient Wisdom for Daily Life,  Rabbi Irwin Kula writes, "The yearning for self is essential to our development but it is of course a quest that can never be fully satisfied... There's very little difference between the secular belief that we can know who we are and the religious fundamentalists' belief that we can know who God is... Rather than trying to define who we are, what if we sough an ever-deepening understanding of how much we are?" (p. 27) Not how little, or what is missing, but how much we are. I will sit with that idea, and remind myself of it the next time I feel  uncertain, or question my choices, past or present. 

This weekend is my first sponsor's AA anniversary. She's only a few years ahead of me, but when we worked together, and attended the same home group, I thought she was a goddess (actually, I still do - she is a very spiritually-grounded person). She used to remind me that instead of looking at how far I had yet to go, I could look at how far I'd come. I forget that these days, with all the years of recovery under my belt. But it is, still, a day at a time. It is a miracle that I'm alive and healthy, and that I have long term relationships with friends both in and out of the program. I, we, are the fortunate ones. I hope to never forget that all of my musings about self and paths and directions are a luxury and a privilege. There was a time when how to cure my hangover, or when I could track down the dope man, were my daily concerns. No more. And not for a long time. Thank you, K.T., for your wisdom and contributions to my journey.

Though we cannot know the where and the when, what comes to mind when you contemplate the time you have left on this earth? Is it satisfaction, regret, or a little of both? If you find yourself in the forest of what might have been, how do you find your way out? 

It's a busy weekend in AA-Land. Check out the West Hollywood Speaker Slam Feb 20-21 -  schedule: thewhrc.org/meetings   You can also stream past speakers from amotaudio.com. This is also the weekend for the virtual International Women's Conference:   57THIWC@57iwc2021.com  (registration reopens on Thursday, 2/8)

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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.  (See the 11/17/20 blog entry  for a chapter sample) 

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). ( I offer a price break for locals who can pick up their copy - $15)

 February - time to step out of the morass of powerlessness and unmanageability and into a return to sanity. The format for our monthly Step Group suggests, for January, to write down all the things I'm powerless over, which started with affairs of the world, narrowing down to my spouse's sleep schedule before I realized that I'm also powerless over my initial, sometimes irrational, reaction to people, places and things. I'm not powerless over my actions and words, but that initial zing seems to come out of thin air. Thus, my Step One work last month was around the daily surrender, and the acknowledgment that if I could've thought myself out of my various "isms" I would've done so long ago. 

And now we're at Two, being restored to sanity by a power greater than myself. As I was taught, that power greater than myself was the meeting rooms, or actually, anyone else I could talk with about whatever harebrained idea was rattling around in my mind. Time and time again I experienced the truth of how talking about something takes the power out of it, whether an urge to get high, a crush, wanting to murder a roommate, feelings of "less-than" -  you name it. Whether leaving my great ideas in the meeting circle, or talking to a friend, saying out loud what I'm thinking either exposed the lunacy, or confirmed I was on the right path. The power-greater has also come to mean the still, small voice, the wisdom gained from years of this spiritual practice, the ability to wait. 

I hear people talk about the internal argument they had with the implication that they were insane. There is no doubt in my mind that my drinking and using behaviors were absolutely nuts - no rational person would've done the things I did in pursuit of the next high. But what does being restored to sanity mean with decades of recovery? I'm less likely to be teetering on the edge of a cliff these days - the unmanageability is usually subtle, coming in on a whisper instead of a shout. But I don't have all the answers. I have some, through lived experience, but for me, the sneaky unmanageability comes in the form of thinking I do know all there is to know, that my problems are better solved on my own, that you don't have time to listen. The insanity also tiptoes in as lingering feelings of insecurity, the old tape that says I'm not OK unless (fill in the blank). I know that to not be true, and yet...

In doing Step Two, I did used to wonder, "How do you restore something that was never there?" as in, sense of self, confidence, a healthy respect for my body? Maybe it was about learning what any sane person might know - sticking a needle in your arm, or driving drunk are not good ideas, for example. 

I remember a Home Ec class in high school," Preparation for Marriage," or something along those lines. We learned the rudimentaries of following a recipe, reading a grocery ad and making a shopping list, and how to balance a checkbook. One day, the discussion, in this coed class, was around being emotionally ready for commitment. The teacher pointed out that you can't truly love someone else until you love yourself, to which my classmates nodded and agreed. I was 16 or 17 at the time, and had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. I distinctly remember feeling confused: I am myself - how do I love myself? Having very little sense of who I was, my identity was solidified by relationships. It would be a long time before I felt competent to be in the world on my own. While I do regret some of my past, I am grateful for all that brought me to today. Without those painful lessons, I may not have been willing to let go of the old ideas and follow direction.

I continue to be grateful for how we 12-Steppers have adapted to the time of covid. Over the summer, several of us met for a small, distanced circle in a local park. As the weather turned, we moved online, though on dry days, have met in a friend's backyard around a firepit. This week, we had a hybrid meeting, with six of us around the fire and another four joining via laptop. It was awesome, intensified by the three sobriety anniversaries we celebrated. We really are the fortunate ones. Any one of us "coulda, shoulda, woulda" been dead behind the wheel, at the end of a syringe, the wrong blind date, or could've hurt someone else (beyond the heartache we did cause our loved ones). And in this pandemic, while so many are feeling lonely and isolated, we have our program. Zoom and Skype meetings aren't perfect - online we can't hug - and without leaving my house, I can gather with friends from around the country, and literally any time of night or day, join with like-minded others. 

The sun is shining here, as we await a snow and ice storm predicted for tomorrow afternoon. I braved the panic-shoppers at the grocery store, and will cover our delicate plants in preparation. And tonight, I'll sit in a square with some of my favorite people (including those I've never met in person), bearing witness to the miracle of recovery. 

How does Step Two show up in your life these days?  Who do you talk to when you sense the dis-ease trying to gain a foothold? What does being restored to sanity look like today?

(Check out the next West Hollywood Speaker Slam Feb 20-21 - we've "attended" the last two, enjoying a wide range of great speakers. Check out the schedule at thewhrc.org/meetings   You can also stream past speakers from amotaudio.com)

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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.  (See the 11/17/20 blog entry  for a chapter sample) 

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). ( I offer a price break for locals who can pick up their copy - $15)

 I now have the opportunity, desire, ability and time to do whatever is mine to do...                                     ~adapted from Hope for Today, Alanon daily reader, January 28

I've long bemoaned my sense of time urgency - time as higher power, time as in never-enough. It struck me, as I read the above statement last week, that I do have enough time, energy, wisdom and resources to accomplish my heart's desires. I likely always did - my true desires will find a way to the top, no matter what else needs doing. And what I've come to understand, despite any tuning-fork energy to the contrary, whatever needs doing does get done. 

I'm thinking that certain mind-sets may be appropriate to certain time frames, and when the frame of reference changes, so can the mentality. I think about my success with the "Set Aside Prayer" around relationships. I'd concentrated my Step work on having a new experience next time around. I got the new experience, but soon realized I was using the old tools. That would've been fine were I still in rinse-and-repeat mode, but I was in uncharted territory, so needed a new approach to my "ism's" (thank you Alanon!). Similarly, when I was in college, I had a frame of mind that suited the occasion, as in fewer meetings, more studying. And now, newly retired, I have the opportunity to, once again, re-evaluate my relationship to time as well as activities. Having enough feels like a luxury. I do not, for a minute, regret leaving my work-life behind. 

This week's trip to the resale shop generated more emotion than I'd anticipated as I grieved my past life and the people in it that were symbolized by the things I let go of. I felt a little teary, talked about it, wrote about it, and did a small ceremony of release. After leaving the store, I felt lighter, at least partly because the owner seems to value my things nearly as much as I did. I can exhale, grateful that someone else may now get enjoyment from things that had outlived their purpose in my world. 

Whenever I've cleared physical space, with donations, consolidating, or simply moving things around, I always pause to think about my mental and spiritual space as well. The longer I'm in recovery, the more paring-down that occurs, whether you visualize that as the onion peeling or maybe layers of bark coming off a tree. Lila R says that the purpose of sobriety is "to be who you are" - who I truly am, minus pretense or outmoded masks and roles. And what a joy to be in a place of discovery - kind of like early sobriety, but with a lifetime of experience to help guide the way. I had a program call from a woman with just under two years, in that place of questioning self-will vs going with the flow, attempting to determine if her internal chatter is helpful and true, or the dis-ease trying to work its way back in. I suggested getting still, among other things, knowing full well that it was a few years before the spinning top of my mind wore itself down. Sometimes I hear fellow long-timers bemoan the getting older that goes along with sobriety years, but I'll take it any day over the inner confusion of my twenties and thirties. 

And, so, the sun is shining here in the Pacific NW. I have a bit of vaccine-envy as more and more friends are getting their doses. All will be well. All is well, as I wear my masks when out and about, attend my online meetings, talk on the phone, take walks with friends. One day at a time serves me well these days as I ride the covid roller-coaster of worry and boredom vs hopeful anticipation. Take care, friends.

What might have been a frame of reference for an earlier time in your life that no longer fits who you are today? Did any shifts occur naturally, or did you consciously seek change? What does "be who you are" mean today? Are there places where you might still have uncertainty, or a longing for transformation?

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.  (See the 11/17/20 blog entry  for a chapter sample) 

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). ( I offer a price break for locals who can pick up their copy - $15)