Holding still

 "I lived when simply waiting was a large part of ordinary life: when we waited, gathered around a crackling radio, to hear the infinitely far-away voice of the king of England… I live now when we fuss if our computer can’t bring us everything we want instantly." Ursula LeGuin

I try to be mindful of society's push towards filling every minute, of hurry, hurry, hurry. I don't wear earbuds when out walking (trust me, I don't need another voice in my head) and when waiting in line, at the post office or grocery store, intentionally do not pull out my phone. Simply standing still is ok. I'll never forget an incarcerated man I worked with in treatment, telling me how, the last time he'd been "on the outs" (i.e. free) he'd gone to the mall and was appalled at people in the Food Court, all staring at their phones. "It was like they were zombies, Ms B!" he said, not too far off.

I'd be the last to say I don't appreciate the convenience of having the world's information at my fingertips, though I am grateful to have grown up in the age of encyclopedias and card catalogs, dictionaries and reference books (as kids, we favored the "D" encyclopedia volume for dolls and dogs). Sure, finding stuff out was sometimes challenging, but I liked having found something on my own, and making it my own by the search, reading, and maybe writing about it. It seems that these days, we don't need to know things - just how to ask Google.  OK, old person rant for the week!

I just picked up a new book, Still Life at Eighty - the next interesting thing, by Abigail Thomas. I used to slightly resent being a late Baby Boomer, realizing that most of the insights and ah-ha moments related to my generation had happened a few years prior to my coming up to the questions. Kind of like when an old-timer in AA would say, "You're right where you're supposed to be!" God, I hated that. It's my journey, you old fart! Don't tell me I'm supposed to be this confused! But, as time goes on, I'm grateful for those who've gone before, those slightly ahead on the path of life and/or recovery.  I've never been an old person before. I know what that looks like on the outside, but what does it feel like? 

Thomas writes about the present being interrupted by vivid memory, that human capability of living in two places at once - past and present. A friend has reminded me that the past, joys and sorrows, experiences and regrets, all transpired to create who we are today - of course I have memories, some stronger than others, some appearing in a wisp and some driving a bulldozer. Somewhere I read that when our bodies become frail, it is our memories that will sustain and entertain us, and I certainly have a lot of them. I'm so very grateful for years of solid recovery and positive memories, as well as the painful ones that remind me to stay on the path. 

During a breakup, probably twenty years ago now, my mother expressed her sadness at my difficult life, citing Dad's death, my divorce, another hard breakup, addiction. I was taken aback. Yes, I was sad/scared/overwhelmed by the current situation, but since getting sober, my life had been stellar, with college, travel, and great friends, finally coming into who I was supposed to be. I shared that with her, sad myself that what she saw was the darkness when I'd been living in the light for eighteen or so years at that point. Perception, focus - where do I point my attention today?

And here we are, October nearly over. Have I kept my vow to myself to be present, to be mindful and truly inhabit my days rather than whoosh on through? Kinda, sorta. It's been a full month, with travel, birthday, a half marathon, the little forehead procedure... and time seems to move quickly, though maybe less so when I'm paying attention. My elections work will be over next week, and Sunday we turn back the clocks so it will be dark here in the Pacific NW by 5pm. I don't mind the change of seasons, the cozy darkness, and the reminder of transition - from busy to less so, from daylight to darkness, from sunscreen to warm sweaters, from shivering denizen to happy, joyous and free. It look me a long time to realize that life is transition, subtle and not so subtle shifts in circumstance, as well as my internal thermometer. One day at a time turns out to be a gift, not an empty platitude.

Where do you place yourself in the "hurry-up" world? Are you able to step off the treadmill and relish the moments as they come? How do you fill the empty space when waiting in line? Whether you are pro or con the time change, how do you relax into the transition while taking care of yourself?

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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.