Whenever I hear Van Morrison sing "Wavelength," with its reference to the Voice of America radio station, I'm immediately thrown into a memory of riding around Beverly Hills circa 1979, in a VW Bug, with my Saudi boyfriend and his Iranian friend singing along at the top of their lungs, talking about their late-night searches on the radio dial for programming from the land of the free, home of the brave, and their deep longing to set out to this place, so far from home.
I don't know that particular longing, the one that says, "I can't stay in this country, this city, this town without losing myself." I do know that feeling in regard to a relationship or a job - that quiet voice that says, "There is more to life than this," often followed by the fear response of "But at least I know what 'this' is." I've often had to stay in that place of neither-nor before the Universe stepped in to make a decision for me. And, sometimes, I've been able to get there on my own, via quiet stillness and my trusty journal or inventory work.
In a meeting this week, someone talked about self-care, the prescription that we take an hour, or even 30 minutes out of the day for "Me Time." I'm thinking that it's more than that - that self-care is an attitude, not merely a bubble-bath or massage appointment. If I'm taking care of myself all the time - saying "yes" when I mean "yes" and "no" when I mean "no," checking in with my physical and emotional state before making a decision, getting enough sleep and healthy nutrition - then I don't need to carve out specific times. Yes, candles and soothing music are nice, and sometimes other people and obligations take precedent, but I can care for others while still caring for myself. It's ok to sometimes resent my obligations, or to not like everyone I interact with. It's only not-ok when I pretend otherwise, putting on the happy face of "It's fine. Really."
My meth-cook lover was a follower of Lao Tsu - well, he was a reader of the Tao anyway, whether he actually practiced "The Way" or not. He often spoke of the philosophy of non-doing, the no-thing-ness of a peaceful mind. I thought that was merely his excuse to get out of cleaning the kitchen, but am very slowly coming to understand the value in not striving, not trying so hard, the value of the often elusive pause.
As I near my re-retirement, I've again been reflecting on highlights from my career. Some of those are related to being present when a person has a breakthrough - when they "get it" in regards to their recovery. There's not much more beautiful than being there when someone makes the hard phone call, or when you see the lights of understanding come on where before the shades were drawn. Not much more beautiful unless, like me, you also count the times when the utter joy of being alive takes over - like when we took a group of teenagers in treatment to the ocean. Witnessing a small handful of tough 16-year olds from eastern Washington see the ocean for the first time, splashing around like little kids, still warms my heart. And then there was the time in prison, when during our monthly karaoke talent-show, one of the "OG's" (old gangster) did what he called the "Grand Finale," and got nearly all the guys up for a Soul Train line dance to the 70's hit, "Ain't No Stopping Us Now." (I will admit that the other disco-era counselor and I couldn't help ourselves - we joined them!). Neither of these instances were covered in any textbook I'd read, or instruction manual, but sowing "fun in sobriety" has been one of my life missions - whether at work, or in my personal life with potlucks, Big Book charades, or dance parties. I didn't get sober to be "stupid, boring and glum". It was at least partly the laughter that attracted me to recovery - wait, you mean we can enjoy life and music and each other without being high?? We each have our own version of "happy, joyous and free," and for me, it often involves celebrating life with music, food and those who share my enthusiasm. It can also mean a quiet walk, or a heartfelt conversation with a trusted other. Always and again, it is about what makes your heart sing, what brings you peace of mind in the turmoil of this troubled world.
Where are you on the self-care meter this week? Are there any lurking decisions that are asking to be made, or are you getting the signal to wait? What does "fun in recovery" look like for you these days?
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Don't forget to check out the post from Feb 4 for a sample from the 78 page workbook, "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" now available in PDF or hard copy. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with any questions.
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