In the daily reader, Beyond Belief, by Joe C, the February 9 entry notes that we share in meetings, not so much for others, but for ourselves. "When we express ourselves we are having out-loud conversations with ourselves. If we are authentic, new realizations flow in real time." As I've often said, sometimes in meetings I hear what I need to hear, and sometimes I say what I need to hear, the magic of the unscripted - often silly but sometimes profound. And I never know until it happens.
The other day, in one of my in-person meetings, I heard just what I needed to hear about staying in the moment, with the reminder that fear takes me out of today. Boy howdy, does it ever. As a well-practiced future tripper, staying in the moment can be a challenge, though I understand the value.
I had a biopsy on Tuesday, not unpleasant in and of itself. And now the wait, the limbo of wondering whether the thing that showed up on my scans is benign or malignant, and in either case, what is to be done? We're frequently reminded in meetings that learning to be comfortable with discomfort is a primary task of recovery - not just in early sobriety, but always. I'm certainly not contemplating an escape via substances, but how else might I check out or try to outrun my tendencies towards prediction? Coffee, beyond my daily half-caf cuppa, is an option, though any more than my usual tends to upset my stomach. Same with sugar. My mom died in a long past October, just as Halloween candy was on the shelves. At that moment, and for a few months, I was defenseless, stuffing my emotions with chocolate. I don't think that would work today, as I'm way more aware that one is too many and a thousand not enough.
What if I practiced the truth that the only way through is through? What if I practice what I know is a pressure valve, like a walk in Forest Park, or my own neighborhood, a coffee date with good friends, journaling, inventory? What if, instead of running, I held still, paying attention to both the still, small voice as well as those who've traveled this path.
My sponsor wished me the energy of curiosity and faith. Faith is easy - faith that all will be well, even if it isn't; faith that I can do hard things; faith that a bunch of people have my back; faith in my as yet to be identified medical team. Curiosity? That takes some thinking. Curious about what's next, without obsession, curious about the arrows pointing to my core beliefs (the "It'll never happen to me" stuff), curious about my body and healing and what this little (big?) wake-up call could mean?
For starters, on a practical level, my vague intentions to get my desk in order now seems like a priority. What of other, more nebulous intentions? Do I really, truly want to visit India, or is that mere fantasy? What about any lingering or new hopes and dreams? Many years ago, the therapist I saw after my dad died gave me a worksheet titled, "Everything You've Ever Wanted To Do" with the idea that writing something down with intent could equate to manifestation. This was true in some cases. Well before getting sober, I wrote I wanted to walk on the Great Wall of China, and a couple of decades later, ran a half-marathon on the Wall. Some of the things on that list fell off - my dad was right about not buying a beach house, with his belief you'd then be tied to going to that one place needing repairs - and some things have been added. I've long said I don't have much on a bucket list, but now that I've settled in to retired life, are there any longings simmering to the surface, just waiting for a bit of attention to rise to the top?
I won't know anything more on the biopsy until next week. Annoying, and an opportunity to simply get on with life, in the garden, visiting a friend, lunch with Mom's 93-year-old cousin. I will note that growing up in 12 Step programs, one of my coping mechanisms is sharing in meetings, so I've been talking, in either vague or specific terms, about what's going on. What I'm seeing, and have learned from others earlier on the path, is that there are a lot of opinions and experiences out there. Yay, and I get to choose what I listen to, as in "take what you like and leave the rest."
Some very helpful indirect comments in a recent meeting helped me get back on the beam - the reminder that if the Universe, Spirit, Whatever, lifted the compulsion to drink and use drugs, the same energy can help me walk through whatever is ahead. I may not believe in a deity on a throne, but I do believe in the fellowship of the spirit, yours (and my) example of lives changed from despair to hope, one day at a time.
How do you practice staying in the moment when your insides say, "Run!" How do you practice self-acceptance for the whole of it, the positives and not-so-much? How do you discern the differences between "take what you likes" and leave the rest? What might go on your list of "Everything I've Ever Wanted to Do"?
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See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample of the "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" workbook with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. Available in PDF format for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy mailed to you. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th
Thank you for the essays you write. I always find something useful in them. Also, thank you for your workbook. It has been a blessing to the small group I am working it with. We are all finding what we need in it and forging a closer relationship to each other.
ReplyDeleteI wanted to let you know that I needed to hear what you wrote in this essay. I had a mammogram this past Sunday and yesterday received the call that I need to come back in for further testing which might include and ultrasound and/or biopsy. I am now in that limbo as I wait for my appointment this coming Wednesday and then whatever news comes from that. I can let my magnifying mind go through every possibility but am working to just keep in mind that 99% of what we worry about never happens and that my sobriety history has shown me through experience that there is nothing I can not face using the tools in front of me. Your writing reminded me what I need to do and also reminded me that I am not alone. So thank you.