Sunny days...

 I chaired a meeting this past week based on an old Grapevine article about making amends to our bodies - our bodies that withstood so much during our active alcoholism and addictions, and that I sometimes take for granted. Nothing like a diagnosis to cause a pause...

In that meeting, a wise person shared their own reminder to face their fears rather than try to run away, to "look them dead in the eye." Ah yes, the only way through is through, which is that one-day-at-a-time stuff. Just for today, all is well. Just for today, I can sit still. Just for today I can do the dishes, read a novel, make dinner, do the next right thing. I can remember that FEAR equals face-everything-and-recover, not "f*** everything and run" which I've been doing a bit of in the food department. Damn, this being human is annoying sometimes!

Here in the northern hemisphere, we celebrated the Spring Equinox (Fall for you down under) on Monday, and here in the Pacific Northwest, I'm saying, "It's about time."  "It's been a long, cold, lonely winter" to borrow a phrase from George Harrison, with spring blossoms later than usual (of course, what is "usual" anymore when it comes to climate?). All that being said, it is in nature that I find solace. I sometimes think that has to be big and dramatic - waves crashing, a forest of trees - but sometimes it is simply watching birds peck for seeds in our backyard or seeing the sunset across the stair-step roofs of the neighborhood. The rainy season is far from over, but we've had a couple of beautiful sunny days, which makes it all feel more balanced.

Which could be a metaphor for life. I have far more sunny days than not: a repository of memories and stellar conversations, the loving arms of family and dear friends, this amazing recovery journey. I did get some positive news this week (finally!) - still cancer, but the margins were clear which means the surgeon got the entire tumor. Next steps are still in process, but grateful that this part of the journey is complete. Not to be too Pollyana-ish, but when I'm feeling stuck in self-pity or fear, I really, truly can take a look around to remind myself there is much more to life than my limited focus. And I can be gentle when I'm stuck in the mire...

I keep hearing just what I need to hear. I haven't been sleeping well and woke up a little crabby on Saturday. Because my walking group was taking a break, I got to attend a meditation meeting with my husband - 15 minutes of silence, which went faster than anticipated. The woman who shared before me talked about her cancer, and others spoke to coming up to the edge of their discomfort in various ways. I talked with the woman afterwards, who told me she rarely talks about her cancer journey in meetings, so it was one of those little program miracles that she did, and that I was there to hear it. Again and again I see and hear evidence that I am not alone, whatever the case may be - grief, changes in life situation, medical stuff... whatever, and I mean whatever I'm experiencing, there is another member who's either been there or is doing that. Where would I be without my community?

And the definition of "community" continues to expand in this world of online meetings. I had the pleasure today of meeting, in person, someone I'd known only from zoom, who was passing through Portland. We are people who normally would not mix, mainly because we would never have met, whether that applies to using days when I was sequestered in my basement, or in recovery when I get entrenched in particular routines. I love to experience that spark of recognizing a kindred spirit, of making the connection, of saying, "I see you."

I was honored to hear a 5th Step this week - one more reminder of "we do together what we cannot do alone," of saying, "I see you and I fully accept who you are in this moment."  I think of how I often resist making that phone call myself, the "she's probably busy," or, more deadly, "I can figure this out on my own." What I know, of course, is that it isn't about whether or not I can "figure it out" (ha ha, which is not one of the Steps), but the act of reaching out, of asking for help, the "Do you have a few minutes?" that can be so hard to do. Why? Do I think I'm supposed to be fixed by now? Am I embarrassed by my puny "problems" or stubborn character aspects? A little of both, I suppose, and... an exercise in humility to pick up the phone and practice the principles in all my affairs. 

How have you, or are you, making amends to your body? Has that process changed since you've gotten older? If you find your focus on the darkness, is it possible to shift just a bit towards the light? How does self-acceptance fit with that? Are you able to reach out to your sponsor or trusted others to check in, even if that feels like a stretch? If not, what could you do to move closer to the "we"?

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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