Experience, strength and hope

 I recently read an article describing "ambient demand," all those tiny and annoying tasks, often related to computers and technology that are supposed to be helpful, for example, calling a company with a problem, navigating to a chat-bot, jumping through hoops to get to an actual person, hearing "wait times are longer than usual," and maybe, maybe eventually getting to someone who can help. None of these steps are overtly difficult, but there goes 30 minutes, if you're lucky. Seems to be the way of the world these days, but that doesn't mean I like it.

What it does mean is that I can intentionally create, or allow, quiet space, doing my best to balance busy with not, keeping my phone in my pocket when standing in line, staring out the window at the stars or the rain. That can be a challenge for this alcoholic - I like a full calendar, though more and more am appreciating afternoons of open time. And while not a luddite, I can do my best to get/be reasonably tech aware while staying true to my old-fashioned paper and pencil roots. 

A slight adjustment to the route I take to walk to my gym has me passing the apartment where I moved after leaving my first husband, a little shotgun affair in the corner of a small complex. That was a strange and murky time, filled with too much drinking, hangover mornings downing a piece of toast and a glass instant breakfast after hitting the "snooze" button one too many times, then walking to work at the insurance company a mile or two away (I didn't learn to drive until the marriage ended). Drunk dialing old friends at night, bringing a couple of strangers home from the dance clubs, trying to discern if I my soon to be long-term boyfriend was coming back to Portland or staying oversees with his clan and obligations. I was definitely in an in-between state. and at 23-24, barely scratching the surface of emotional maturity. How could it have been any other way, having started drinking alcoholically at 13, moving from my parents' home to the attempt at being grown-ups with my husband, and very soon, staying with the new boyfriend, leaving the little apartment as no more than a closet until I officially moved in with him. 

Sometimes I wonder what I might've done differently, especially on these cold, dark and wet days when memories of hitting bottom seep from every song I listen to, the holiday decorations I've had for decades, walking with women I've known forever.   Of course, all that transpired in the past brought me to today - every hangover, every argument, every bit of my cheating heart, every ounce of laughter along the way, and yes, each and every bottle of cheap wine or vodka-7, every gram of cocaine, every syringe full of meth. 

What is it that keeps us alive, oh we who coulda/shoulda/woulda died behind the wheel or with the wrong stranger? Luck? An innate sense of self care that said turn right instead of left? That seems to be the unanswered question of nearly every alcoholic - why me? Why did I get it and not that person over there who I know hurt just as bad as I did? A sponsor once shared her philosophy that, often, those of us who make it have a functional work ethic that keeps us coming back. What I might add to that, from my years working in treatment as well as listening in meetings, is that many of us simply cannot accept the idea of personal powerlessness - the old "I've got this" syndrome. Who knows? What I do know is that I've been walking this spiritual path for a lot of years now. It is my way of life, not something I have to think about each day like in the beginning.

I love December - the quiet, the dark, the reminder that in essence, I'm a mammal that benefits from slowing down. Not hibernating exactly, but December feels like a time of hearth and home (here in the Northern Hemisphere anyway - happy summer to those in another place). I love holiday lights and burning a candle as I sit with my daily readers and journal in the morning. Each season has its gifts.

 I've read several articles about keeping our joy alive in this time that can feel uncertain. What do I have power over? My attitude, which means choosing to focus on the positive rather than all that could or might be "wrong." I have power over how much news I ingest (just enough to stay informed), and the kinds of conversations I participate in. Not in a Pollyanna kind of way, but I know from experience that grousing over the state of the world, or my age (which I see as a gift), or so much else in the world that feels big and sad, does no one any good.  Do I have time or money to donate? Can I brighten someone's day? Can I cultivate the "attitude of gratitude?" one day at a time? Just for today, which is all I really have, I'll remember what it was like and celebrate what it is like now.

How do you allow space in your days for quiet contemplation? What are ways you can keep, or stoke the fires of joy, for yourself and those you come in contact with? How can you contribute to making the world, or your little corner of it, a better place today?

* * *

Is it time for a year-end inventory or planning for the new year?

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.

As the year winds down...

 Recently I've heard several people speak in meetings about sponsorship, including early sponsors who "ordered" them to call every day at a specific time, or required an appointment. Some people read the Big Book with their sponsors, with or without a 1930's era dictionary handy. None of these were my experience.  It took nearly a year to get an actual sponsor (vs in name only), and while I would've loved to be told what to do, mine would often say, in reply to my dilemma of the day, "What do you think, Jeanine?" Cue eyeroll. If I knew what I thought, I wouldn't have called you! In retrospect, which is when most of my wisdom shows up, I understand that I needed to learn to make my own decisions, not simply wait and see which way the wind was blowing. Sometimes "waiting is an action," to quote from Courage to Change, but sometimes it is a way of making you responsible for how a situation turns out for me. 

Today, I use sponsorship, and more often or in conjunction, trusted others, when I need a different perspective, or just need to hear myself say out loud what I already know inside. I did recently ask one of my trusted others to call me out if I ever start saying that I'm not an alcoholic. I am, truly, thoroughly, without question. Those holding-each-other-accountable calls are never easy, but isn't that what we do for each other? I'm not talking about some random person in a meeting taking my inventory, but about those close relationships where we know each other on a deeper level and can see when our friend might be wandering down the path of rationalization. Of course, that assumes I'm talking about my wandering mind, which may or may not be the case, and may not be evident unless I tell you. Which is why, for me, having that trusted other is so important - a consistent person who sees or hears me in action.

And, I have sponsees who call me as needed, are working through the Steps, or have a set time to check in. All of my sponsees have over ten years in program, which seems fitting for this long-timer. I have definite memories of what it was like at 30 days but having lived through life on life's terms for decades now, I feel I'm more useful to those who've got the sobriety habit down (though no guarantees!) and are learning to apply the principles in all their affairs, or simply want support along the path. 

On another note, 2024 is quickly drawing to a close. Yes, the calendar is arbitrary, but I do like the sense of review and looking ahead that arises this time of year. I came across a list of questions for a year-end inventory of sorts, though could be useful anytime I'm feeling the need for a re-set. I'm sure I lifted them from somewhere, so apologies to the original author.

1. What went well this year?
2. What didn't?
3. What, if any, goals did I have for 2024, and which were completed or not?
4. Any lessons learned?
5. In looking ahead, do I have any plans or goals, perhaps related to health, finances, relationships, home, work, service, creativity?
6. What truly matters to me, and how does my life reflect that?

Number 6 feels particularly relevant, now that I'm four years into retirement, loving the ability to do what I want, when I want (more or less) but also thinking about how my values are played out beyond the day-to-day of appointments and meet-ups. As my good friend and advisor, the Tarot Card Lady reminds me, what I'm to do next will present itself, so my task/challenge is to pay attention, and leave enough space for the still, small voice to reach my heart, awareness being the gentle whisper at the door. 

Who is, or are, your trusted others - the ones who will call you on your BS, as we used to say? In thinking about the year-end review, are there things or situations you might've handled differently? If so, how can you course-correct going forward, or change the goal altogether?

* * *

Might it be time for a year-end inventory or planning for the new year?

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.

The Love Vibe of the people...

 At a past International Convention, I believe the one in Toronto, one of the old-timers who spoke was from Nova Scotia. I don't recall the details of his story, other than his saying what kept him coming back was "the love-vibe of the people." At the time I thought it was funny, coming from a fellow who looked more like a fisherman than an old hippie, but the longer I'm around, the more I agree with him. It's about the people.

Before I got sober, I might've told you, or believed myself, that I didn't like people, but the truth was, I was afraid of you - afraid you knew more than I did, that you could see I didn't quite belong, the old "you're ok and I'm not" routine. But lo and behold, when I heard people share in meetings I realized we aren't so different after all and that many of us came in with the core belief that we're not ok at some level. Thank goodness for outside help and lots of Step work, and truthfully, growing older, which seems to have smoothed out much of the angst of younger days.

And thank goodness for the love-vibe of the people. This past week I spent time with a friend from the early years who left Portland now decades ago but was in town for the holiday. Another day, I picked up a woman I've known since third grade to attend a gathering at another grade school (& program) pal's house. I saw another good friend at my in-person meeting mid-week, and was able to connect via yet another friend, with a woman who's just moving to Portland. And then Thanksgiving at my sister-from-another-mother's house where I expressed my gratitude that she (who I've known since 1972) adopted me and my husband for the holidays after Mom died. And then I made good on my professed love of nature and went on a chilly but beautiful hike with another good friend. As I said last week, I am rich beyond measure, which also included an overnight with our daughter, who hadn't slept here since pre-pandemic days.

That's a lot of people time for this introvert, so am relishing a more open (i.e. empty) schedule this week. Balance, balance, balance, especially this time of year when I can feel torn between enjoying festivities and being drawn to the quiet darkness of pre-solstice. 

And in the quiet of a wonderfully unstructured day, I attacked a particular shelf in my office/guest room where I have a habit of simply piling papers upon papers until they threaten to slide onto the floor. Some of it is printed blog pages, which go into a notebook. Some are printed out poems or articles, most, these days, dealing with aging, death or grief. And then there is the folder of obituaries - flyers from memorials attended, obits from the local paper, newspaper articles about well-known people who've died. It's long felt important to keep these mementos - reminders of lives lived, long or too brief. There is Rodney K, a stellar man of enthusiasm and laughter, Mark H, an early AIDS activist I met at the acupuncture clinic, and dear Walt, who fought kidney disease for decades with a positive attitude I could only hope to emulate. I've heard it said that no one is actually dead until there's no one left to remember them. I do remember - Peggy and Leonard, Ila, biker Kelly, Kathleen. Norm B, Jimmy C - .so many examples of going out with their boots on, staying sober through it all. 

At a Flexibility class at my gym the other day, I asked one of the women how old she is. "Coming up on 89!" she said, along with "It's important to keep moving." Indeed. And so, I will keep moving, through the Steps, through life on life's terms, through the memories, through the lessons, through the ups and the downs, the annoyances and the joys - one day at a time. 

How do you experience the "love vibe of the people," in or out of the rooms? How can you be mindful of balance in these potentially busy holiday weeks? Who is in your memory file of people who've gone on? Is there anything left unsaid in your friendships and relationships today?

* * *

Might it be time for a year-end inventory or planning for the new year?

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.