I was asked to give a ten-minute share on a piece of literature at a meeting out of San Francisco we regularly attended in the Before-Times and have hit sporadically on Zoom. I went with the bit on the daily reprieve, contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition, since I've lately been questioning mine. I like to think I have a reasonably strong spiritual connection, but as I've recently heard others sharing on the topic, I pause. Where am I in this equation today? More importantly, where is my spiritual source(s)?
What I realized is that I don't simply want to maintain my spiritual condition - I want to grow, enlarge and expand my conscious contact with my inner wisdom, creator, the mystery - the "god" of my non-understanding. Is that my addict talking, wanting more, more, more, or is it the still, small voice whispering that I've gotten a bit too comfortable? That being said, a fellow in that morning meeting said he's good with the idea of maintenance, thinking of things like taking a shower, buying groceries, or changing the oil in the car. His idea was that he can't stay at a high level of conscious contact 24/7, but that he does what is necessary to stay connected - definitely a saner and more compassionate view than my self-flagellation.
Program can be a tricky thing. We are warned from the very beginning to watch for complacency, the deadly belief that "I've got this." If I had a dollar for every person in treatment over the years who traced their relapse to thinking they had the disease under control, and thus didn't need to keep doing what worked, I'd be a wealthy woman. So there's that. But/and I'm also aware of the danger in too much time spent contemplating my navel, the self-absorption I mentioned last week. If self-deceit is the beginning of the slippery slope, how do I stay aware of any tendency to cut corners without beating myself silly? When do the rewards of long-term sobriety translate into being okay with what is?
The short answer would be in other people - meetings, sponsors, trusted others, friends - who I hope, by this time, would give me "the look" if I'm too far in left field. Restless, irritable and discontent is also a clue, especially when not attached to the HALTS. Boredom is an indicator, as is judgement. If I'm feeling cranky more often than not, it is likely because I've forgotten my powerlessness and that I'm connected to the larger whole. I believe it was Marieanne Williamson who wrote that there is just one spiritual path, and we're either moving away from, or towards our true north.
There is a saying in the running community: Trust the training. If I've done the work, the gifts will follow, and there is only so much "improvement" I can achieve. I do want to enlarge my spiritual life and the Steps and principles of recovery have become internalized over years of practice. Like meditation, or running or any other endeavor, I can and will continue to show up and put in the minutes or miles or pen to paper, but these days it doesn't have to be with the view that I'm a project in need of fixing.
A close friend marks 37 years of sobriety this week. Without their recovery and our chance overlap in treatment, I don't know that my life would look as it does now. Those early relationships were crucial to getting this thing, to trying out new behaviors, exploring what it meant to grow up in a community of like-minded others, others who shared the commitment to change. I didn't always utilize sponsorship the way I hear others talk about, but I definitely had "stick with the winners" down pat. I think of potlucks and dances, the travel and road trips reciting How it Works from memory. I think of the laughter (then and still), the tears, the wins and the losses and everything in-between. I think of the thousands of meetings wherever we were (Spain? Italy? Turkey? Oregon City?), celebrating and mourning, dancing and hiking, cooking and drinking coffee, suiting up and showing up.
And the beat goes on, whether with this friend of my entire sobriety, others from grade and high school or soon after, or those from the last decade or so. I used to jettison people if they offended me, which wasn't hard to do in the drinking years. And, even in sobriety, friends come and go depending on circumstance (I'm thinking of my new walking buddies). I feel so very grateful to have a good handful of people in my life who know me, who can tease me about being bossy, or how I always have snacks in my suitcase.
The pandemic has definitely altered how I spend my time, and with whom. My "yeses" aren't as automatic these days. While I still have a tendency to over-schedule, I am getting more skilled at the pause, whether before opening my mouth, or writing something into my calendar. What are my "want to's" and what are the "have to's" and where can I let go and relax into the here and now?
What comes to mind when you think of maintaining your spiritual condition? Do you have at least one trusted other who will tell you if you seem to be off the beam? Where have you gotten better with utilizing the pause? Where could you use more practice?
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See the Feb 4 post for a sample of the 78-page workbook, "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" available as hard copy (mailed) or PDF (emailed - ideal for those outside the U.S.). Portland Area Intergroup also has a supply available at 825 NE 20th Ave, suite 200. Go to the WEB VERSION of this page, if you don't see the purchase link in the upper right corner. Contact me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with any questions.
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