A friend who winters in a warmer climate got home recently, noting that with packing done, the task at hand was to stay in the moment while awaiting their travel day. Another friend has given notice at work, now in that short-timer place of staying responsible but so wanting to be done, with two other friends on the verge of changing cities. I'm just about ready for my grand adventure, scanning the house for whatever small projects I can use to distract myself until it is time to board a plane. As a writer friend noted, with their own homecoming, "no-longer-there-but-not-yet-here-either." I'd amend that to not-there-yet, but mentally already gone.
Those liminal spaces, whether in between jobs, the ending of a relationship that is on its last legs (admitted or not), the time just after someone dies when it can feel like I, the living one, have one foot in both worlds, taking a trip/not taking a trip...can feel like a case of suspended animation. I'm generally one who prefers to forge ahead, uncomfortable with the feeling of being nowhere, unmoored, waiting., though one of my Alanon readers reminds me that "waiting is an action."
Being mindful, in the moment, has rarely been my strength, packing for a trip while simultaneously making a To-Do list for my return, thinking about one thing while doing another. This whole one-day-at-a-time thing is a discipline. I suppose that's why it's advised to practice the principles, progress not perfection. Someone recently shared their perspective on living the program rather than working it. I like that. Working the program can make it sound too much like a task to complete, whereas living the principles implies a gentle flow, one day to the next, one decision or one action leading to another. That idea of the road getting narrower as we gain sobriety used to scare me - I'm afraid of heights, and pictured a narrow, winding mountain road. Maybe the "narrower" could mean that there aren't as many choices - do the right thing or the sketchy one? That really is no longer an issue.
As I was reminded in a recent meeting, when I find myself in a conundrum, around future tripping or otherwise, I can ask myself, "Where is HP in this?" (however you do or don't define that). Am I obsessing when I'd be better served to simply take a breath, or pay attention to the task at hand? I try to do that when out walking, bringing my attention to spring's blossoms when I catch myself having gone several blocks without noticing the world around me. I am a feeler and a thinker. Can I also be an observer?
As I was in the midst of writing this post, I found out that a good friend died, a friend who'd suffered a mental health crisis several years ago and was never able to make it back. Several of us tried to be there for him, but he drifted further and further away. A tragic loss of a really good man.
As I was processing that loss, I got the call that my eldest cousin was dying, and a few hours later, that she was gone, with her two children and one of her sisters at her side. I'm only on the periphery of the inner sanctum, and hadn't known she was physically ill, so this, too, comes as a shock. She was six years older, a chasm when we were kids, but of shrinking importance as we got older, and from my perspective today, at her 76 years old, too young to go. But who am I to say? What I can say, and do say over and over, is that you just never know.
And so what we do is come together, in small groups, online or on the phone, or with social media as it was meant to be used, to connect and share our grief, with family and friends spread far and wide. I'm feeling a little numb with these two losses, the cousin who remembers our grandmother (I was only 5 when she died), and the friend of AA dance parties and long conversations. Today I can hold sadness and gratitude in the palm of my hand, grief and faith in the cycle of life and death, over and over again.
How do you live the program principles today? Again and always, how do you bring yourself back to the present moment if you find your thoughts drifting to either the past or the future? When something unexpected happens, how do you take that cosmic breath of acceptance?
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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 folk