Go with the flow

 

"Life is amazing. And then it's awful. And then it's amazing again. And in between the amazing and awful it's ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That's just living a heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it's breathtakingly beautiful."

L.R. Knost

As one who was addicted to stimulants, I was hopeful that "happy, joyous and free" meant all day, every day. Later, when I heard about the runner's high, I waited for the jolt of energy, sadly learning that the "high" referenced was of the more mellow, all-is-well variety. As I've heard others say, I'd sometimes wonder where the cash and prizes were kept, the unicorns and rainbows of my imagined cartoon universe. Alas, life is amazing and then awful, and sometimes just is, and today that's ok when I remember that every shift in mood doesn't require an inventory.

Case in point - last week I did a 45-minute share at a good meeting out of Pittsburg. Because of the length, I spent a fair amount of time in the "what it was like" portion of the story - claiming my seat, as we say, though I do hope that the bulk of the share was "what it's like now." Anyhow, the next day, I felt flat, with some reflection that I came to understand was grief. The three men I was in relationship with before sobriety are all dead - one from an overdose, one the result of alcoholism, and one from lung cancer. Good men, all of them. Maybe not right for me in the long run, but decent human beings, and except for the man who overdosed, I was able to make living amends, over time (vs the desperate "I'm sorry!" attempt of early sobriety). Life marches on, until it doesn't.

I've learned this week of two deaths - one an older guy with 44 years sober, and another, a man younger than me who was very active in the recovery community. Again and again, we just never know. 

As I think about several friends who are in big life transitions, I'm reminded that change is the nature of life, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. For countless generations, there were guides to escort Muslims to the hajj in Mecca. and now there is google-maps. "Red Cap" porters at airports or train stations lost their profession to rolling suitcases. A niece lost her graphic arts job to a computer. I read about people worried that their jobs will go away with a shift to green energy. Yeah, probably. and change is the nature of life, whether I like the idea of AI taking over or not.

I can better cope with change when I'm in at least some control of the process. It's been those rug-pulled-out-from-under-me upsets that get me in a tizzy, whether a relationship ending unexpectedly (but do they really?) or an employer going belly-up, or someone dying that I thought would live forever. We used to say, "Go with the flow, man" and that still applies (minus the reefer), though it's sometimes hard for me to initially recognize when I'm swimming upstream. 

Will I ever get to the place where acceptance is my first thought? Where detachment comes naturally? When I intuitively remember to keep my mouth shut (WAIT - why am I talking?). Progress, not perfection, one step at a time. 

What transitions may be happening in your life, from the change of seasons to a change in circumstance? How do you remember to "go with the flow" these days, when you might rather be in charge?

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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.

 

 

Fears vs Reality

 

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”

 — Edith Wharton

Sometimes I don't even know where the matches are to light the darned candle, but this is a good reminder that actions, not intentions, are my contribution to either the solution or the problem. As Marieanne Williams once wrote, it's when I allow myself to go unconscious with my motives that I get myself in trouble. Know thyself...to thine own self be true... work the Steps...

I was in a meeting this week where the topic veered to "fear," leading me to look up the dictionary meaning of the word: An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat; a primal emotion that warns us of danger and helps us protect ourselves. I realized, as I listened to others, and reviewed my own internal fears list, that I tend more towards anxiety, defined as a natural human emotion characterized by feelings of unease, worry or fear, often stemming from anticipation of danger or a stressful situation. Bingo, with anticipation the operative word, understanding that my interpretation of "danger" may be a bit skewed. 

This further came to light when I interacted with a friend who recently completed the grand adventure I'll be doing in May. I shared with her that I'm excited and a bit nervous, to which she replied, "Is there anything specific making you nervous?" I had to think about that - what is real and what is fantasy? What is my imagination and what has bearing in reality? Will the airplane fall out of the sky? Probably not, though all the recent air mishaps make me wonder. Will I die on a street corner in a foreign land? Probably not. I can do my best to leave my desk in order, but the rest isn't up to me. (A month or so before my mother died, I asked if she'd mind if I went to visit a friend out-of-state. She said "no" and that if she died while I was away, she wouldn't know the difference anyway.)

It is a good reminder, when in the grip of free-floating anxiety, to take a breath and use the Serenity Prayer, or fear inventory from the Big Book, to hone in on what I might be able to change. If my attitude is all I can actually change, I have the tools to move me in that direction: talking about my secret (fear/anxiety isn't one of the pretty emotions) with a sponsor or trusted other; use the "god box" to help let go; list what concerns me and cross out all the items that are not valid; turn off the news; trust the process, whatever that process may be for any given situation.

And in the meantime, chop wood and carry water. especially when I feel my brain pushing against the constraints of ODAT. Tomorrow will get here soon enough. 

If you were to do a fears inventory today, what would you write? Which of those items are real and which are imagined? How do you move towards acceptance of the moment, and discern the things you cannot change vs those you can?

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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.

Transitions

 I'm thinking this week about the cycle of life as one friend marks the anniversary of her husband's passing, another hits a sobriety milestone, and yet another says goodbye to a beloved four-legged family member. We spent time with family over a long weekend visit - the patriarch, a frail 95 years old and the youngest in first grade. Watching the three cousins frolic on the beach, I was reminded that some of my happiest memories are of times on the beach with my own cousins, shrieking and jumping and trying to dig our way to the other side of the world. That sometimes seems like only yesterday, and other times like a hazy dream. 

I suppose I'm in the autumn of my life, not quite ready to claim winter, though probably getting close. Years ago, I read a lovely poem where the author wrote with melancholy about spring, knowing that each rotation of the earth brought him closer to his final spring. Not exactly the same, but I do remember during my last year working, thinking, "Oh, this is the last time I'll have to cover during a snowstorm," or "This is the last person I'll hire and train," and then the very final, " This is my last drive to work." A friend who is older than I often points out that life becomes a series of "lasts" - last hike, last making love, last walk, last garden. Maybe, for many, that comes gradually, so gradual that it isn't fully noticed except in retrospect. More reason to pay attention, to big events and small.

On another note, sometimes when I leave my gym, I see a person or two waiting for the pot shop to open, sunglasses on perhaps, even though it is gray morning, sitting in their vehicle or on the nearby apartment steps. I have to laugh with friends - back in our day, we had to sneak around to buy marijuana, from the creepy guy in the park, or the fellows in the corner of the school cafeteria. The times, they have changed, though I do remember sitting in the grocery store parking lot, having been up all night, waiting for 7am to buy more beer, so not much different than those waiting for their pot. I don't know that it still happens, being way too old and very sober, but upon turning 21, we applied for an ID card from the Oregon Liquor Control Commission (OLCC) that was our passport to legal drinking. I hadn't yet learned to drive when I got mine, but I'd certainly learned how to drink, or should I say, knew how to get drunk. 

Rites of passage, initially marking one's expansion in the world (school, driver's license, legal drink, career, maybe children) and at this stage, more of a contraction. Retirement could be either - the ending of one phase and the beginning of another. I'm now convinced that life is a series of transitions - youth to old age, work life to retirement, shifting goals and priorities, knowing that at least some of which lies ahead involves loss. 

But what lies ahead also involves love and laughter. On our visit to family, we also got to spend time with our home-away-from home group family, hitting an AM meeting with coffee after, then crossing a bridge to a nooner and lunch with more friends. It is great seeing people outside the tiny zoom squares, sharing an actual hug, looking each other in the eye to say, "I'm so glad to see you." 

And the beat goes on. If aging is truly a series of "lasts," how will you celebrate and make note of all that is real and good today? What rites of passage lie ahead for you? How do you stay in the moment, while remaining aware of inevitable transitions?

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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.

Connection

 I have been absolutely filled with gratitude, that heart-swell of positive emotion, having recently been in meetings with those celebrating 13, 22 and 44 years of recovery. At 39, I feel solid in my sobriety, and fortunate to have found my people, my people who are as committed to this way of life as I am. As I sometimes think, it could've gone either way. With the memory of a few people from my treatment days, who felt like they already had one foot out the door mere weeks later, I am grateful that my antennae of discernment pointed me towards those actually working the program. sometimes with grace, sometimes stumbling along..

In those early months, I "connected" so to speak, with a fellow peer. On our second date(ish), I realized he'd started smoking pot. As we drove towards aftercare, I chastised him (ha - no Alanon in the picture yet) telling him he needed to go to meetings, like we'd been taught. "I'm not like you, Jeanine," he countered. My reply was, "I'm not like me either!" I was never a joiner, was introverted and painfully self-conscious, but I bought it when they said, "There are two times to go to a meeting - when you want to and when you don't." No one asked whether I felt like it or not. If I wanted to stay sober, if I wanted to stay alive, I'd follow directions, however awkward that felt. I still follow those directions that are, by this time, seared into my DNA. I don't need three meetings a day anymore (though may get that on a visit coming up that includes visit with friends at different groups), but I do need to stay connected, whether meetings, conversations, emails or walks.

Speaking of Alanon, this past week marks 39 years since my first meeting. There were times I used Alanon for crisis management only, but life, and my feelings about it, seem to flow smoother when I stay connected. While I do sometimes succumb to the "co-dependent crazies," I am definitely not the same person as when I waited at the window for my heroin-addicted lover to come home (with my car), or begged HP, on my knees, for his sobriety that didn't happen. The Alanon journey was a painful one, and can still sometimes be uncomfortable when I catch myself in control mode. One day at a time, I am grateful (there's that word again) to have found my way to the rooms. I used to cringe at the "double-winner" label, thinking, "More like double-loser!" I much prefer the term, "dual-member." Also, many Alanons talk about their "qualifier," the person who's alcoholism qualifies them for Tradition 3, but recently I've heard the term "motivator," which feels both more accurate and gentler.

I'm in the planning stages of a grand adventure in a couple of months, see-sawing between my usual travel fears and excitements. In thinking of Step 2 in Feb, I realized that my insanity these days comes from the very old idea that I'm supposed to "figure it out," that I'm meant to have all the answers. And with Step 3, the reminder that one of my isms is the fear that if I don't know exactly what's next I can't be safe. Au contraire. I'm not going to Outer Mongolia or the Amazon jungles (and even if I were, I'd likely be ok.) 

I used to ask myself on the way to work each morning, "I wonder how my plans will get disrupted today?" knowing something nearly always happened that was out of my control. That applies to vacations, trips to the grocery store, plans with a friend, and yes, grand adventures. In the meantime, on my Monday walk I ran into a couple I used to spend time in meetings with, had a conversation at the gym with a woman I recognized from local government, and sent a text to someone I haven't seen in quite awhile (I'm learning to follow the hunch or urge - if I think of someone, go ahead and reach out). If I tell myself that connections are important, it behooves me to pay attention to where that shows up, like a phone call from someone up north who wanted to purchase some of the Now What workbooks, or another woman at my gym who's been on the adventure I'm planning. It's about the people, sharing a smile or like with the greeter at the grocery store, funny stories about this neighborhood we grew up in. Love is all around. All I need to do is notice.

Where do you feel gratitude today, despite what can feel like a very crazy world? What do you do when fears, old or new, show up? Staying in the moment, are you able to notice love, even if it looks like something else?

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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.