Life, One Day at a Time, One Year at a Time

 The other night I dreamt I was talking with some guy about my marathon history. As we talked, he started jogging, and I went right along, feeling free and light as I ran along the trail behind him. I'm not sure where in my waking world I feel free and light, as I fret about our pending roof replacement and a busy summer schedule, but it was a lovely image. I'm not likely to take up running again - walking is just fine these days - but a pleasant reminder of how it feels to be unencumbered by my mostly self-imposed tasks. 

The 70th birthday dance party and lawn games event was a success, with 38 attendees at the peak. Several of us live in the vicinity, though we had friends from New York, Phoenix, Seattle and the Oregon Coast who made the trek. Several folks thanked me for pulling it together. It was actually a joint effort, but I will say that besides getting sober, AA has taught me how to throw a party! (As I told a nervous friend once, all you really need to do for a house party is make a lot of coffee and put out extra toilet paper, because once the guests start arriving, no one will notice whether the floor is clean or not.)

What seeing old friends and strangers (we were a high school class of 500) made me realize is that there is value, to me, of connections over time. There is also the deepening understanding that, at age 70, it is more and more likely that I won't go everywhere I'd ever wanted and I won't do everything I'd thought important. I won't hike all the trails, visit all the oceans, wander all the faraway marketplaces. So, reining in fantasies of elder Pippi Longstocking adventures, where do I want to point my energies? What might I feel sad about at the end that I didn't get around to?  It's my reminder to self that "later is now." What little (or big) projects, or books or various mementos, etc. am I "saving for later," (a reference to my Depression Era mother if there ever was one). We had our carpets cleaned last week, which necessitated moving stuff off the rugs - dear God I almost wanted to cry with the sheer volume. Time to re-employ the Marie Kondo Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up. Am I using this? Does seeing it spark joy? No? Then why, oh why is it taking up precious space, not to mention, gathering dust? (And I'm not alone - the carpet fellow said many customers tell him they make a trip to the donation box after the cleaning.)

The same question applies to characteristics and my fretting about "defects", though at this age, much of who I am is pretty entrenched. And...I am better at the pause than I was a few years ago and way less invested in what others think of me. Those are reminders that I'm not done yet, with still room to grow. Maybe not in leaps and bounds, but as we've long heard, slow growth is good growth.

I'd worked on the dance party playlist for months, adding and removing songs, dancing in my living room to test out a beat - all good fun. Good fun, and on the day before the event, when reviewing the songs one more time, I started to cry from the tidal wave of memories: the dance at the YMCA in 1969, earlier dances in 8th grade, the song that caused our hearts to flutter with hope that the certain boy would ask us to slow dance, the 45rpm that my cousins and I played over and over and over again in their bedroom, singing along to romantic lyrics that only partly made sense to us at 15. I am a melancholic sort - a friend and I once chuckled at our nostalgia for long ago AA meetings, so it's not limited to my youth. Today I know that all those memories are part of who I am, and I have so much more compassion for my emotional immaturity. As I said to a fellow 12-Stepper at the party, who apologized for his sarcastic barbs of 50 years ago, how else could we have been? It felt like a lot of us with WWII era dads who didn't have the language to process their experiences, raised ourselves, up in the park, hanging out with other children of alcoholics. As my first sponsor used to say, we did the best with what we knew at the time. I can still occasionally fall into self-judgement for not knowing something I would have no way of knowing, those old tapes of "I should know better" and "It's not OK to ask questions" rising to the surface. But these days, those episodes are brief, and I more readily recognize them for the false beliefs that they are.

I recognize, more and more as time goes on, that aging, or rather acceptance of the changes aging brings, is a process. At 60 it was still in the future, out there somewhere with "old" being at least five years hence. Last week, while out listening to free music in the park, friends and I noted a group of elder women, one with a cane. We teased, "There we are in a few years," with one of us saying, "I sure hope so!"  As recovery has shown me, I need do nothing alone, and if I can keep a sense of humor and travel the route with friends, the ride will be smoother.

Do you have a "bucket list?" Are there things you might feel sad about at the end if you don't get to them? How do you balance daily living priorities with hopes and dreams? As you look around your living space, do your belongings bring a sense of pleasure or frustration, or both? How do you make peace with what is today, in the here and now?

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The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or hard copy mailed to you). Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for local folks.

Showing up

 This past week I've been to two very small in-person meetings - five at one and four at another. Some of it may be summer - after a heatwave (though nowhere near what the rest of the US is getting), we're having lovely days, days where sitting in a church basement at noon doesn't sound appealing. That's just my guess - who knows?  I was told at the four-person group, a Monday-Friday meeting, that Tues and Thurs are Steps and Traditions, so fewer people attend.

Wow is what I'd say to that. Sure, Tradition meetings aren't the most exciting, but like most meetings, shares generally revert to "What's going on with me today is...." What I think, in both instances, is that the pandemic changed so much. Yes, we/I like person-to-person contact, but how convenient to simply turn on the computer, or prop up the smartphone and connect to a meeting, or just decide not to go. 

A newcomer with 86 days was at the five-person group. Imagine if two or three of us had said, "Oh, it's way too nice out to go to the meeting," or the dreaded precursor to complacency, "I don't need a meeting." That "need" is different in long-term recovery. At the beginning, I needed meetings - to occupy my time for an hour, to surround myself with other sober people, to hear something that would carry me until the next meeting (which might've been later that same day). These days, the needs are similar, but less intense (I almost said less life-and-death but that isn't really true. I have a lot to lose were I to drink again, and meetings, for me, are part of my daily reprieve):  connect with my peers, be reminded of what it was like, to be an example for the newer person, to hear the message of recovery from someone outside my own brain, to build on the new ideas concept that keeps shifting and changing as I do. What I also know is that I can't work the 12th Step all alone. I don't generally sponsor new women - my sponsees all have double-digit sobriety - but I carry the message by showing up, sharing my phone number, and, what was so important to me when new, remembering people's names when they come back. 

Thinking about Step 7 in this month of July - the "humbly asked" part...  I can get caught up in the "who am I asking, and for what exactly?" particulars, but as Richard Rohr noted in a recent post, it is the asking that is important. Like when we reach for the tools laid at our feet - I can't will myself to change or figure out how to be different all on my own, but it is in the reaching, and asking, that I demonstrate the humility of "I don't know." That takes me to the sponsorship thing. At 38+ years and having worked with my current sponsor for a number of years now, I have a general idea of what it is I need to do in any given situation. But it is in the asking, the email or text, or picking up that heavy phone, where the healing begins. Yeah, I have some answers, but not all the answers. Yeah, I'm pretty centered most days, but pretty self-centered on others. And isn't it funny that when I contacted my sponsor this week about something that was bugging me, she said, "There are no coincidences - me too!"

Friends and I are celebrating our 70th birthday year this coming weekend, in the park where many of us drank and smoked pot during high school. I'm expecting anywhere from 15 - 30, though what sobriety has taught me is that just the right people will be there and it doesn't do much good to fret. I've done the footwork (made the playlist, sent out the invites and reminders) and the results are out of my hands. I'm just tripping on the fact that I've know many of these people since I was 9 years old, and that we are turning 70, which is not at all how I anticipated being "old" to feel. One day at a time, one birthday at a time. 

If you are a meeting go-er, how does that work for you? Do you have "do or die" groups, or are you more of a drop-in person? What keeps you coming back? If you aren't a meeting person, or if you are, how do the principles of the 12 Steps guide your life?

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The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or hard copy mailed to you).. Please contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for local folks.

Pen to paper

 I am a list maker, a journaler, a memory keeper from way back in 5th grade when I noted what I wore to school or who I was hanging out with in a little lock and key diary. A number of years ago, a sponsee as well as another friend, told me they'd burned all their journals. I was aghast. Burn them?! Never - I will keep mine forever! 

But, as Meatloaf sang in Paradise by the Dashboard Light, forever is a long, long time and there came a day when I decided to dispose of both my journals and my 20+ photo albums. OK, not entirely - I spent several months going through the photo albums, mailing off pictures to cousins and friends, destroying many (how many pictures do I really need of myself smoking cigarettes, or my mom standing in the driveway), ending up with 10 books and a box of mom's photos. The journals were tougher, and I ended up keeping a small stack, including the grade school years, the final year of my drinking and using and that first insane year of recovery (I read from that first-year diary at a recovery event - totally embarrassing, with the only saving grace that it was 25 years ago by that time). I've kept a few pivotal years, but the truth is, I rarely look at them, and without children who might be interested in my every thought, there really isn't much reason to keep them at all, save the notion that when I'm 90 I may want to go back and remember.

I'm still a journaler - sometimes too much so. At one point recently, I realized I had three different journals going - Step work, a retirement journal and the everyday volume. Dear God...  And in my declutter efforts, as I scanned various pages from these and older volumes, I realized with chagrin that I very often mused and complained and pontificated about the same.damn.things, over and over again, from one year to the next. Good grief. I've been on a "diet" since I was 11, concerned with romantic relationships since about then (real or imagined), fears around work, bumping heads with my partner(s), blah blah blah. Which doesn't mean I'm going to stop (!) - journaling is part of my spiritual practice, and along with the same-o same-o, I also write about insights and connections, dreams and goals achieved and longed for. But what my own record says to me is, either accept myself as-is, or change for heaven's sake. I know I don't care for it when an acquaintance goes on and on about the same thing every time we meet - but I do the same thing in my conversations with myself. Sheesh! 

So perhaps the crux of it is staying in self-awareness without veering into self-obsession/the bondage of self. As a sponsor once said, there came a time when she stopped viewing herself as a project, something to be fixed. As I contemplate July Step work, I read in the Alternative 12 Steps that Step 7 can be about collaborating with my characteristics rather than fighting them (which never seems to work or I'd be wearing a halo by now). A friend talks of cooperating with reality, accepting that what is, is and going from there. Like another old song, "wishing and hoping" won't change a thing. Acceptance, and the wisdom to understand what I can impact just might. 

Will there come a day when I stop journaling, or perhaps burn each year passed as a new year's ritual? Hard to say, but something to think about - or write about! And this blog is a journal of sorts, though my 24-year-old stepdaughter says that blogging is passe, with people these days preferring to watch a video over reading a post. Maybe... but I'm a paper person, a reader, with a paper calendar, journal, and grocery lists. I prefer a good book to earbuds, conversation to a podcast, so just for today, I'll keep doing what I do. Thank you for coming along.

Are you a journaler? What do you do with your old notebooks, or with Step work once you've shared it? Are there habits and pastimes that made sense when you were younger, but don't have the same pull these days? What is your spiritual practice today? Does it ever feel like time to revise and renew? If so, where do you find new inspiration?

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The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or hard copy mailed to you).. Please contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for you local folks.

Moving forward

 I attended the online Beacon Group this week (noon EDT), on the topic of Step 4 as related to fear and sex (they do Step 4 resentments separately). I could relate to so much of what the (female) speaker shared about the times we grew up in ("love the one you're with"), including being the first generation with access to effective birth control - we at least imagined we had all the freedom in the world. 

What the speaker said, and my own sponsors have echoed over the years, is that the sex inventory isn't simply a matter of making a list of where my behavior hurt myself or others but looking beyond the "I did this" to uncover causes and conditions, like the mistaken idea that I'm OK only if you say so.

All of the 4th Step, whether resentments, fear or sex, benefit from looking at those deeper layers of the "why" I act out in a particular manner - what am I afraid of? Am I looking outside myself for a fix?  If I'm angry at a particular person, place or thing, am I forgetting my powerlessness? What are my fears, real or imagined? Am I operating on self-reliance or figure-it-out mode? 

There aren't many blinding revelations in my inventories these days - the same characteristics tend to pop up. Which brings Steps 6 and 7 to mind. What does it even mean to become entirely willing? I can say to myself that I no longer want to do or think x,y or z, then 15 minutes later, I'm up to my elbows in a justified x or z. I supposed that's why I keep coming back. Progress, not perfection. 

In the Step 4 meeting, the speaker referenced a quote I've heard before that's attributed to Michaelangelo. When asked how he possibly created the magnificent statue of David out of a piece of rock, he said he simply chipped away at everything that wasn't David. For some reason, that brought a tear to my eye, thinking of the immature girl I was in 1986, who had a lot of chipping away to do. But it also triggered a deep recognition of the here and now - are there trappings of personality, behaviors or habits that may have been adequate and appropriate to the younger me but that might not serve as I move into this next phase of my development? Do I walk my talk in all areas, or am I cutting corners? Do I automatically point the finger at you, you or you, ignoring the three pointing back at me?  This upcoming milestone birthday really has me thinking, and feeling what it means to apply program tools to the aging process. 

And then, as the fates would have it, I was in a meeting with someone five years ahead of me on the calendar, talking about this exact topic (funny how that seems to work - when the student is ready, the teacher appears?). They spoke to the idea of developing a matrix, a structure of sorts for how they want to be in the world going forward. I resonated, and love making a list! It's not so much a bucket list of things to do before I die, but the energy I bring to the tasks and adventures I'm drawn to. People talk about the joy-meter as an indicator of satisfaction with their days. I think of that along a continuum from pleasant and enjoyable to fun to outright joy. Joy has a measure of excitement, whereas pleasant and contented feels calmer, but no less satisfying. 

In the manner of an inventory, I've started to jot down experiences that come to mind with that measurement, looking at patterns or commonalities. Sitting on the couch, or at the beach, with a cup of tea and my journal is definitely a positive experience, but with a different energy level than the time friends and I rode bikes into Central Park on a glorious November day. I'm realizing that the events that bring me joy or satisfaction are directly tied to my values. I wouldn't enjoy rock climbing, for instance. I do value adventure, but also safety and security. 

When I think of the emotional and spiritual energy I want to experience and bring into the world going forward, what comes to mind is connection and conversation, going to new and beautiful places as well as appreciating "home" in all its incarnations. And... I don't want to turn this new idea into simply another To Do list of things to accomplish. Yes, I'd like to learn Spanish (and have a CD set that's been on the shelf for a year), so can add learning and stretching my mind to the matrix, along with finding beauty in the everyday - carry water, chop wood. And while reliving the past isn't necessarily part of the deal, a good friend points out that all those memories are part of who I am today so I can celebrate the good times and not so good, the people who've come and gone. 

This whole aging business is a process. I've never been here before, but just like in sobriety, I can follow the taillights of those who are on the road ahead. We can learn together and from each other. 

How do you use the inventory process in long term recovery? How do you move beyond the superficial act or action to get at causes and conditions? How might the inventory be useful in the aging process? 

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The NOW WHAT workbook is 78 pages of topics and processing questions, great for solo exploration or in a small group. Go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering (PDF for those outside the U.S., or hard copy mailed to you).. Please contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com  or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for you local folks.

People who would not mix...

 My long-term friend, the Tarot Card Lady (on Instagram and Facebook) noted in a recent post related to the daily card, that instead of tying self-image to what we do, try looking at what it is you (I) enjoy. What a concept, especially as related to the subtle shift from achieving and striving to simply be-ing. 

I thought about that while on a long walk, realizing that despite my internal protests, I am an athlete, a distance-walker (previously runner). The story I tell myself is that I'm not really an athlete because I'm so slow, or too this or not enough of that. And then I sit at my desk and look up at a wall of medals and photos of me at various events. Oh yeah, I guess I am an athlete. I'm also a writer, though again, the internal voice is around "not enough" - not good enough, not self-promoting enough, not productive enough, blah blah blah. OK Critical Self - just hush.

The question could be, not "What do you do?" but how do you inhabit your life? How do you show up for yourself or others? When I review my day, is the image of a flurry of activity, liked or tolerated, or maybe a "What did I do today?" Or, satisfaction with time spent alone, with friends, with family? I don't always have choices in how I spend my time, but most of the time I'm able to go with "want to" rather than "have to" or "should," which is definitely a gift of long-term recovery (and getting older!).

What matters to me these days is connection - talking and laughing with people I love, like the group of old school chums who get together monthly, or the cousins who meet for breakfast every other month, being intentional about staying connected after our mothers (the glue) are gone. This past week I invited myself to a small gathering of one of my home groups, with a visiting member in town. What a joy to sit across from each other in person, to share our passion for recovery, still lively all these years later. And then on Sunday, I got to hear an out-of-town speaker who my husband has raved about for years, and now I know why. For me, the program hits my heart via a mixture of laughter and tears, celebration and solemn acknowledgement of how fortunate we are to have made it out alive. 

Later on Sunday I drove to a local rural park for a Celebration of Life for a long-time member. I didn't stay long, as I didn't know anyone there, but felt it important to show up and give my respects to this person who'd been key to my early sobriety. About six months ahead of me, he had a broken leg when we first met, and was staying at his dad's house near me. I don't remember if I volunteered or was assigned to give him rides to the daily nooner, but I knew that he sure needed a meeting (ha ha and so did I). He shared wisdoms and insights that I still draw on today, like "If I only go to one meeting a week and miss it, that means I'm two weeks without a meeting." One day I told him how I sometimes missed the physical sensation of my drug of choice. As he explained it, that was a part of life we experienced that not many people do, but that it was over and now we got to focus on being sober. Made sense at the time, and got me through that day without picking up. On another occasion, on our way to the nooner, I stopped at the meth cook's place to drop off some things he'd left at my house - we were still kind of involved, but those early months of my recovery were rocky as he grappled with the change. Anyhow, on the front porch, he started to give me grief (I think he mentioned how I'd gained weight - well obviously, since I'd stopped methamphetamine and started eating). My pal Kelly, simply got out of the car, all 6 foot 4 of him, and said, "Is everything alright?" which sent my semi-significant other back into the house. Yes, everything was alright.  Yes it was, because I was letting go of one life and picking up another. Kelly was a biker, a drug addict, larger than life, who in these later years, played Santa for kids of women in treatment and gave new guys a place to stay. He definitely walked his talk.

We are normally people who would not mix - the biker, the social worker, the naturopath, the artist, the attorney, the librarian, the engineer, the hospitality staff...  Normally, maybe not, but what is "normal" anyway? Just the setting on a washing machine, according to a friend. There wasn't much "normal" about my life before recovery, but by the grace of the 12 Steps, I've been able to take my place in the human race. Being a productive member of society wasn't a particular goal of mine, but once here, it sure feels better than being part of the problem.

How do you inhabit your life today? How do you respond when asked, "What do you do?" How might you shift your response to who you are rather than what you do? What does community mean to you? How have you connected this past week?

Tomorrow is the 4th of July holiday here in the U.S. - something to celebrate for some, not so much for others. Whatever you do on this day off, stay safe.

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I've had some questions about how to purchase the NOW WHAT workbook. You need to go to the WEB VERSION of this blog page for the link on ordering. Please contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com  or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. And a reminder that the workbook, 78 pages of discussion and processing questions, is available at the Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th. for you local folks.