Time...

 I stopped at one of the many "Little Free Library" kiosks in the neighborhood on a morning walk this week, perusing several titles as if I was at a Barnes and Noble. I walked away with two books, one, a true story about an elephant and his person, and another non-fiction about Army and Navy nurses held captive in the Pacific during WWII. Both look to be interesting, and if not, they'll go back to the kiosk sooner rather than later.

Long gone are the days I felt I had to finish every book I started. I'm not even sure where that notion came from, though I do remember a teacher showing us how to prime a new book for reading so as not to break the spine. I've also given myself permission to read simply for pleasure, rather than forcing myself to read the classics. Yes, some of those could be for pleasure, but I don't think there will be an entrance exam to heaven, or whatever comes next (if anything). Several years ago I had a conversation with someone slightly older than me, who'd realized they didn't have time to read all of a particular author's catalog. Again, no test at the end.

No test, but how will I feel at the end of it all? Did I allow myself to be appropriately challenged? Did I sprinkle in some educational tomes along with literary fiction and the occasional detective drama? My stoic, introverted brother can be found reading, often non-fiction, whenever I stop by. He doesn't have a mobile phone, so no mindless surfing for him. How many times in a day does one actually need to check social media?

 A friend asked if I read more now that I'm retired, and I think the answer is actually a bit less. Where I used to utilize the demarcation line between work and evening as a time to read for a bit (usually something of a spiritual or program nature), these days my daytime activities seem to morph into evening, as in, "Oh, it's almost time for dinner." 

Not that I'm overly invested in monumental doings. I'm noticing a wee bit of ennui as summer begins to wind down, with an ongoing internal inventory of whether or not it's been a good summer. It's been a different summer, with my spouse's huge work schedule shift, some travel, less time sitting in parks on summer nights with friends listening to local R&B music, less time in the garden for some reason. Sometimes I think I can be a little too introspective, but if nothing else over these many years of sobriety, I've learned to pay attention when something feels off-kilter, when I catch myself engaged in self-imposed isolation.

The missing link seems to be around engaging with friends - my balance between solo and social is off.  Funny, though, as in "is it odd or is it god?" within hours of identifying that particular lack, a friend reached out to re-start our Cabal meetings after summer hiatus. Yes. Connection. Spiritual conversation with people I trust. Exhale. And wouldn't you know it, I had several deep, to the core, conversations over the weekend while attending the Summerfest conference in Eugene, OR, and delightfully ran into someone I knew as a client many years ago now. We are people who normally would not mix, but I'm so glad we do.

Normally people who would not mix, or even meet each other. I was so grateful (again, that small word for such a big emotion) to start the weekend at the conference sitting off in a corner of the hotel lobby logged on to our every-other-week across the country zoom meeting, celebrating a member's 38th anniversary. And on Sunday, my BFF who I met in treatment, celebrated 40. 40 freaking years!?! How does that even happen? Yeah, yeah, one day at a time, but how quickly those days seem to have gone. The step-daughter who was 9 when we met is now 25, my mom has been gone for 13 years, I've been retired for 5. 

Somewhere I read that making friends with the passage of time is to my benefit, rather than the "OMG!" I so often do. As the women's meditation book says, each day really is a new beginning, a potentially new adventure if I open my mind and my heart.

How has your summer been thus far? How do you notice when you're feeling off-balance, and whether that is an internal or an external matter? How do you, or might you, make friends with the passage of time, greeting aging and the calendar with gratitude rather than dread? 

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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. A reminder that the workbook is available at Portland Area Intergroup, 825 NE 20th. for local folks. Also, Barth Books and Gifts took a few workbooks back to Yakima, WA with them, if you're in the area.

Technology

 My high school has hosted an "All Years" reunion for 15 years now. I don't know that I've been to every one, but I'm in the neighborhood, so generally go down to the park to see who else shows up. There were 3 old guys there who'd graduated in the 1950's, and as usual, my 1970's cohort was well represented. This year, a fellow I've known since before high school, though not well, was there, saying that he's having memory issues, and wondered how we know each other. What do you say to that? "Well, your mother, the crew boss, kicked me and a friend off the berry field for acting out when I was 12 and we hitchhiked the 30 miles home"?  (and no, that would not be acceptable today, but we deserved it). Do you say, "Well, we passed each other in the school hallways a few times each week and nodded "hello"? I said something lame like, "We both graduated in 1972," which is really, no answer at all.

On that note, I sent a letter to the family of my friend who is in Alzheimer's care, along with a photo of her on the Great Wall of China, and received a sweet reply from her brother, noting that he visits once or twice a week, and that, while she can still take care of her ADL's (activities of daily living), they struggle to understand her fragmented sentences. Heartbreaking. Like my sister-in-law, she was a bright woman. I cannot take my physical health or my mental health for granted.

On another note, a friend who lives elsewhere, in writing about his art, said that he has "a sensory system calibrated for a world that no longer exists" (I.Y.Sei Akuchi). That exactly puts into words what I've been feeling, with A.I. and Chat GPT taking over my smart phone (the phone that is smarter than me), upgrades to various devices (of which I don't have many) that leave me confused...

I think about Bill and Bob, and the world they inhabited, using electricity and the steel girder to illustrate a point. What would they make of our computerized world, of online meetings and celebrities discussing their sobriety, not to mention AA meetings in movies and TV shows? 

Time marches on, with or without my approval, but I do feel like I have one foot in the land of my upbringing, days of moms standing on the porch to cry out "Dinner!" and this new-to-me territory of holding the world's knowledge in the palm of my hand. Of course I appreciate the convenience of checking in for a flight on my phone, or plugging in an address to get precise directions, but what was the last phone number I have memorized (I actually can tell you - a friend I made right before getting a cell phone) and when was the last time I printed out snapshots from a vacation? When is the last time I opened a cookbook, for that matter, since it is so very easy to call up a recipe on my phone and prop it on the kitchen counter? 

And back to the high school reunion, one of the committee members I spoke with talked about the challenges in communicating with alumni. The old folks might still be on Facebook (hello) while the younger graduates are certainly not. And not everyone even uses email anymore. And when did making an actual phone call become passe? Sure, texting is quick and easy, but sometimes I want to hear your voice. 

Yes, I'm complaining just a bit. Grateful for much of it, but with a wee bit of longing for people who said "hello" on the street rather than passing with their nose in the phone. Thank goodness for the timeless principles of our program, for the sitting in a circle and listening to each other share, whether in the online Hollywood Squares or in a church basement. Thank goodness for the semi-secret circle and triangle sticker that lets me know the car next to me in the parking lot belongs to a member. Thank you for our literature - the hefty Big Book with pages dog-eared and phrases highlighted, as well as the ability to type a phrase into my phone and be directed to the correct page in the book. 

I tend to think that Bill, at least, would be amazed, and pleased, at how the program has evolved with technology, and I think he'd be OK with changing all the "hes" and "hims" to gender neutral language if it opens the door of recovery to more people. We'll never know, but can only forge ahead, one day at a time.

How do you tenderly interact with friends who have cognition issues? If that describes you, how are you gentle with yourself as life brings changes you didn't expect? Are you tech savvy? Has your way of being caught up with how things are now? How can you be ok with knowing what you do know, without beating yourself up about what you don't?

* * * * * * *

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). I will bring copies of the workbook to SUMMERFEST in Eugene in August.

Contact me at SoberLongTime@soberlongtime.com or shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions. A reminder that the workbook is available at Portland Area Intergroup, 825 NE 20th. for local folks.