Connections

 I'm thinking about connections this week, the gift of our shared histories and recoveries - like Dr Bob said after meeting Bill that first time, "He talked my language." How many times have I heard a complete stranger say what I'm feeling? How many times does someone share something that lights a flame in me, or triggers an insight? 

A good friend and her husband are moving out of state. I say "good friend" though this isn't someone I've hung out with all that much. But we've been in various Step Groups together over the years, have socialized, and have shared many, many meetings together, and deep conversations - that intimacy we can have in Program where we weave in and out of each other's lives. Connections.

I'm also thinking of a small group that meets online every 2 weeks, starting for a good friend's 30th anniversary during the pandemic. The wonders of technology let us stay connected from multiple cities across the country, where if left to our own devices, we might see each other once a year. Connections.

The Big Book says "We are normally people who would not mix." What I like to say in response to that is, "I would've drank with any of you," and we might've been best friends by the end of the evening, or the end of the bottle or bag. I still cringe when I think of my ex and I getting chummy with the out-of-town band at one of our local spots, inviting them over the next night to party Portland-style. Oh man, did the next morning's hangover have us saying, "What did we do?" followed by a phone call to back out of our offer. Embarrassing, but we knew we'd never see these people again, so what the heck. I/we had lots of grand plans in those days - the brilliant ideas of the sitting-on-the-barstool variety that never, ever came to pass. I am still and always grateful to wake up clear headed each morning, remembering what I did the day before and with whom. 

My spouse and I made it through the big rummage sale this past weekend, a little bit richer, a little less in the garage, sharing laughter along the way. Knowing it could be a dicey time, we started each morning with the Serenity Prayer and our intention to go with the flow. Interesting, isn't it, to actually talk about what is, or might be, going on rather than relying on mind reading? Ha! I will also say that being in recovery has taught me how to comfortably talk with strangers, thus I made a couple of sale-pals as we counted down the hours. I also paid attention to the still, small voice that was not so still and not so small when it shouted, "Get out of here!" on Sunday. Because a friend was there to help out, I was able to take an introvert's break, catch the bus home for a quiet couple of hours, and return refreshed and ready to load out when the time came. Thank you, Program tools. Thank you "to thine own self be true." Sometimes the connection is with myself. 

What are the connections that feed you today, whether particular meetings or particular people? How do you honor the connection to your higher self when the busy world wants to distract you? Is there a potential disruption to your path that could be averted with a conversation?

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Ready for an inventory or small group discussion? Check out my workbook "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. (See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample.) Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you). Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th 

Centered...

 In a meeting last week, someone pointed out that they would never have imagined the life they have today. I was verklempt as I realized that yes, my life is wonderful, and it is the life I'd always imagined for myself - simple and solid, centered on home and relationships.

I've written about that before, how when I was married to my first husband (way too young) I'd imagine what life could be like. And then, in a long-term relationship with a man who traveled extensively for work, I longed for what I thought of as normalcy - a mate who comes home at night to a casserole in the oven, simple and solid. It took a long time, even in to sobriety, to realize that never could've happened given the circumstances.   

Part of my unconscious dilemma of being able to acknowledge what it was I wanted in life is that I didn't even know who I was. I was unsettled, but from what? Starting to drink and drug at age 13, my sense of self was defined by whoever I was with at the moment. Sure, my core personality (very shy and introverted until that 3rd drink) was there, but I would've had a hard time describing myself. Getting sober at 31gave me the opportunity to grow up, to define what it was/is that matters to me, learning to listen to the still, small voice.

Richard Rohr, in his post from March 15, says, "We do not find our center; it finds us." Ahh, that feels like a relief, an exhale. Now that I do know who I am, I don't have to search under rocks, try, try, try to "find" peace of mind. If I'm not careful, that sense of center will fly right by when I'm distracted by the issue of the day - last week it was a flat tire, this week it's preparing for the big rummage sale, next week it could be just about anything. I need to handle the affairs of the day while still leaving space for the mystery, to metaphorically or actually smell the flowers.

When my spouse came home from work after my emotional reaction to the idea of living the life I'd always wanted, I started to literally weep as I expressed my gratitude, which was also attached to the year anniversary of my surgery. I've since heard from a couple of people that those anniversaries of diagnosis or treatment continue to be a touchpoint, even years after the fact. Just one more reason I appreciate your experience, strength and hope, guiding me along places I hadn't even known I was going.

One of my daily readers says, "I can live spiritually in the simple acts of daily living."  I need that reminder as we mark the Equinox, sometimes, still, thinking that "spirit" is out there in the forest or a bed of daffodils, when, really, the spiritual life is in the flat tire or doing the dishes as well. Quiet moments in nature are wonderful, and I spend most of my days in the kitchen or in the car. How do I bring my focus back to the bigger picture? 

Back in the day, did you have a vision for how life might be in the nebulous "someday?" How does that imagining compare to how your life looks today?  How does your sense of self contrast with how you were in the world before recovery? With the earth in brief balance between light and dark, how do you re-center if you're feeling off?

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Ready for an inventory or small group discussion? Check out my workbook "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. (See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample.) Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you). Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th 

Acceptance

 We made a quick trip this past weekend to visit the in-laws, always a joy, especially seeing the little ones grow up in just the short time since our last visit, as well as being able to share and express love with my husband's elderly and ailing (though healing remarkably) step-dad. These connections are precious. I am so grateful to be a part of the family.

Always, one of the highlights of our visits is seeing our AA family, attending our home-away-from-home group with a laughter-filled coffee date after. Again, precious connections over time and space.

The speaker-discussion meeting we attended provided much food for thought with the speaker talking about the inner peace that comes when we can accept all of life as being what it is. As he described it, we often start out focused on school, career, partnership, etc, but that true serenity comes when we understand that we are OK, regardless of what is going on in our world. As the Big Book says, "job or no job, wife or no wife."  I won't find inner peace as long as I attached my mood to my outer circumstances. OK, so obviously, I'm impacted by what is happening to and around me, and if I'm able to take a step back, I know I'm ok no matter what. 

That seems particularly relevant today, literally one year from my surgery for breast cancer. Oh man, I was scared, never having had surgery before, wavering between trust and fear. At the time, my sponsor encouraged me to go into the process with curiosity, an "Isn't this interesting?" mind set. That was helpful and brought me back to the here and now several times. A good reminder, still, as I think about the disruption to my routines that felt like forever.  And, here we are, a year later and all is well. (I knew it was time to discontinue physical therapy when I realized it didn't hurt when someone hugged me).

I did send a "thank you" message to the cancer counselor who helped me walk through the scary days, including giving me "permission" to be freaked out, even though my situation was fairly straightforward. I can still tell myself that I shouldn't be feeling what I feel, since so many others have it worse. True, and it is more helpful to acknowledge my emotions and let them pass through than to scold myself.

Being a union household, we generally take a cab to the airport, and I'm always curious about where the drivers come from. One of the trips this week was with a man from Ethiopia, who described tribal conflicts that prompted his father to immigrate. We made a comment about things in the US being in a bit of a state at the moment, to which he just chuckled, saying he was grateful that here one can express an opinion without worrying about being turned in by the neighbors and being carted away in the night. I can complain about our national dysfunction and am reminded that other places do not have the freedoms we do. The question to myself is always, "Am I part of the problem or part of the solution?"

Both the in-person meeting last Friday, and a regular zoom group last week, touched on the idea of actually practicing the principles vs dialing it in, along with the importance of being honest with oneself. On one hand, I no longer view myself as broken, as needing to be fixed, and, I am aware of the human tendency at rationalization. Let me be honest, with you and with me, aware of when I'm simply going through the motions and when I'm truly connected to my heart, and to yours.

Where are you on the acceptance continuum today? How do you detach from people, places and things in order to dwell in serenity? What in your past serves as a reminder that all is well, even when it doesn't feel good in the moment? How are you part of the solution today?

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Ready for an inventory or small group discussion? Check out my workbook "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. (See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample.) Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you). Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th 

Live your best life

 The likely grandchild of "Have a nice day" and "Don't worry, be happy," the current T-shirt, coffee mug and bumper sticker adage of "Live your best life!" can either make me pause, gag, or smile, depending on my mood. 

Currently, I have friends who are traveling in Southeast Asia and in Qatar, others who are snow-birding here in the States. A couple of friends go out dancing two or three times a week, while others are active in their grandchildren's lives. Some of my friends live near the sea and others are in big cities, hundreds of miles from where they were raised. Some are happy, some are so-so, and what I realize as I think of how others are living their lives, is that comparison is the enemy of serenity. Sometimes, my best life means getting on an airplane or behind the wheel, and sometimes it means staying up to watch a silly sitcom with my working man who got home late. Sometimes sitting on my couch with a cuppa on a cold, rainy day is heaven, and sometimes it's not. And as I'm forever reminded, "This too, shall pass," whether that is joy or sorrow, boredom or excitement. 

Speaking of de-cluttering (ha!), my spouse and I are getting ready for a big sale at the end of March - one of those events where one buys space, then crosses our fingers that we at least make back the investment. Hard to say at this point, and all dependent on who shows up wanting what. I think of all my mother's tchotchkes and Avon stuff (she was the neighborhood Avon Lady for decades). She, and we, thought we were sitting on a gold mine, and had we tried to sell ten years earlier, that might've been true. It will be what it will be - some books, some music, some t-shirts and miscellany, hauling it in and hopefully hauling less back home.

I keep seeing articles that our generation's kids don't want the fine china, or the heavy dining room table, being more of the Ikea mind-set of light weight and easy to move. I get it, kind of, but do feel an attachment to "stuff," like my mom's carved hope chest, my grandmother's desk and a couple of wicker-seated chairs. I understand that much of what I value is no longer in fashion, which leads me to keep what I like (and actually use it) and dispose of the rest (whether sales, donations or to family and friends). It is definitely a process.

And while it can seem that many intangibles have also gone out of style (greeting those one passes on the street, general kindness to strangers, truth vs opinion), I hang on to the universal truths of the program - strive for honesty with self and others, amend when I screw up, remember that I'm not in charge. Sometimes I feel unmoored "nowadays" with just enough technological know-how to get by, watching my generation of musicians and other icons die. Why, I remember seeing that band when I was 15, or 20, or even 35, and now we're all old people, gratefully, as that is a gift denied to many, though the ticking clock can be disconcerting.

And so, with March being the month for Step 3 focus, how will I get out of the driver's seat? How do I remember to go ahead and make plans, then let go of the wheel of expectation?  How will I "live my best life," knowing that I'm the only one who can define that?

What does Step 3 mean in your daily life? How to you move away from comparison to contentment? What universal truths make up your worldview? How does "live your best life" shift from day to day?

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Ready for an inventory or small group discussion? Check out my workbook "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. (See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample.) Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you). Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th