Wednesday, January 14, 2026

the grand adventure

 I don't consider myself agnostic, but I do appreciate a lot of what is published on the weekly AA Agnostica page (substack).This last week (1/4/26), guest author Paul Pellet compared our alcoholic recovery to the classic hero's journey, noting that not much in AA is actually new, but draws on wisdom from many sources. Joseph Campbell also wrote about the hero's journey and how we all have times in our lives that take us on a archetypal path.

The first part of the journey is about separation, leaving the known, not sure of what lies ahead. That was certainly true for me - I understood that how I was living wasn't working, so took a leap of faith by turning my will and my life over to a treatment program, having no idea what a sober life could be.

Next comes the liminal state, the in-between where we've let go of the old but haven't quite grasped the new - the monkey bar analogy a past therapist used where I've let go of one rung, momentarily in mid-air. For me, this was the scary but exhilarating time of discovery, of following direction because I didn't have any better ideas, the "take what you like and leave the rest" adventure to see what worked for me. 

And then we return - to our daily lives, jobs, family, etc,  now able to guide others through the process, with rites and rituals in the sharing of our stories.

I've long appreciated the ritual aspect of our program. I can be in any meeting,, anywhere, and find comfort in the cadence of the Steps (even if I don't speak the language), the knowing that the meeting will follow a general, recognizable format. Even if I'm not actively listening, I can feel safe with the rhythm of the process. 

And that feeling of safety can often lead to tears, like in my Alanon meeting when the mere act of sitting in the circle brought tears to the surface as I thought about my brother and loss and the passage of time. I'd just visited with him after he'd been to pick up his wife's cremains and saw his attorney to adjust his will and financial intentions. As I sat with him, I could feel the family dynamic of not sitting still urging me to cut the conversation short. Why? I had nowhere else to be, other than being a support to him, listening to this man who isn't very social (an understatement) and now lives alone for the first time in decades. As Lila R said in her new year talk, pause, pray, proceed and sometimes the "proceed" means holding still.

I'm usually involved with my walking group on Saturday mornings, but we're on break until mid-February, so enjoyed the open space that let me attend a meeting that several friends like. The topic was related to identity, and how that (potentially) changes once we're sober. The discussion made me think of my cousin, who asked his sister, "When did Jeanine get a personality?" when I was a few years into recovery. Drinking and drugging me was either in the corner, trying to be invisible, or metaphorically dancing on the table tops. The true "me" is somewhere in-between. As a social introvert, I can hold my own at a party or meeting, but am usually very happy to get back to a cup of tea at home. 

Someone asked themselves the question, "What did I want to be when I grew up?" Though I'd never thought of it before, my immediate, internal answer was Pippi Longstocking - adventurous, independent, imaginative and joyful. When I was little, I had a recurring dream that I was in the Navy, in charge of uniforms and supplies before we set sail. I loved that dream - my own nighttime movie - and often went to sleep hoping to go there again. I also wanted to be a pioneer, like the Sager children who continued on the Oregon trail after both their parents died. 

Obviously I'm not a fictional character, and a century or so too late to be a pioneer, but what is it about those early wishes that might speak to me today and/or has informed my choices over the years? I'm not intrepid in a risk-taking sense, but I've had many grand adventures in many places I'd only read about or seen in a film. An ex could never understand my spending money on travel, preferring to have something tangible in hand. I'd rather have the memory, the experience of a shared smile with a stranger or a conversation with someone who wanted to practice their English. I think Pippi would want to come along.

How has the Hero's Journey played out in your life and recovery? Might you be on that path today in some form or another? What did you want to be, or do, when you were a kid? Has any of that played out in the here and now, whether you work life, social life or ???  

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Time for a new year inventory?   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 who prefer it, 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. And Jackie, of TMar, has a supply as well, if you're at a conference where they have a table.

Wednesday, January 7, 2026

a new year...

 The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order - Eudora Welty

And that significance seems to come and go, from monumental to mere memory; from a small blip to a turning point. On New Year's Eve, I took a neighborhood walk with several women I've known since grade school. We met at our high school, then naturally gravitated towards the park a mile or so away where we spent many a weekend night as teens, smoking pot and drinking stolen wine, usually until we puked under a tree or the booze ran out. On the way back to my car, I passed the house where I hit bottom, the one with the meth lab in the basement. Time marches on.   

None of this stroll down memory lane had much of a pull, like it might've at one time. Maybe my reactions, or lack of, are related to spiritual fitness? Maybe simply the passing of time? I do know that there are times I think of my mother, for example, with tears, and other times, simply a recognition or pleasant memory. Sometimes I think of my ex, the man who married someone else but still put me through treatment, crying for the pain I caused, and sometimes the memory is simply sweet, or neutral. Sometimes the sunrise or sunset triggers a sense of awe, and sometimes I barely notice. The beat goes on.

The beat goes on, and this weekend I marked 40 years of continuous sobriety. 40 freaking years. I celebrated by throwing myself a dance party followed by a meeting focused on gratitude, and how recovery turned out different than perhaps anticipated in the pre-sober days. We are definitely not a glum lot. And way more than a celebration of my recovery, this was a celebration of of our recovery, of community, of people coming together who may not have seen each other in years (oh how the pandemic changed things). It wasn't the "happy anniversary!" wishes that got me, but the "Oh my god! I haven't seen you in forever!" as people walked in the door,  shrieks of joyful recognition. and  connect-the-dots moments - my sponsor realizing she used to work with a grade school pal of mine; two separate groups who'd been at morning meetings that day talking about a 40th anniversary party they'd be attending, only to have someone they didn't know (yet) say, "We'll be there too." It's like Huey from Nova Scotia said in the Long-Timers meeting at the International in Toronto years ago - "What keeps me coming back is the love vibe of the people." Indeed. Grateful doesn't even begin to describe the joy in my heart.

I chaired my in-person homegroup on Sunday, and could remember almost glossing over when someone shared about having 10, 20, 30 or more years sober. Even 5 years seemed ridiculously out of reach in my first weeks and months. I'm not one of these people who tends to lead with how much time I've got (unless it's a birthday meeting, of course). I subscribe to the belief that we all just have today, having been in too many meetings over the years where a long-timer goes out and struggles to come back - maybe triggered by medication, maybe from simply forgetting they're alcoholic, maybe just deciding they're done with the sober life. I don't want to be one of those people, and I know that I'm sober today based on how I work my program in the here and now, not there and then. 

So, back in the saddle after a very full and fun social month of December, with entertaining, holiday events, house guests - a joyful time of love and laughter shared. Back to the gym, back to salad for dinner, back to not keeping sugary treats in the kitchen! And always an eye to how I can be part of the solution  today, with my morning readings and journal, regular meetings, and contact with trusted others. 

To that end, someone asked me, only partly in jest, to be their "retirement sponsor" as they make the transition from the daily routine to more freedom of time. That can be challenging, with shifting priorities and often a "who am I now?" focus. The part about seeing where our experience can benefit others doesn't just apply to staying sober. As a long-timer, I have a lot of life to share, when asked. And therein lies the key to my Alanon program - Did they ask?  One day at a time I can utilize what I learned from Lila R in a New Year's talk: Pause, Pray, Proceed. One day at a time, one decision at a time.

How did you enter the new year? How can you strive for peace and serenity when the outside world seems to be way off kilter? How can Let it begin with me ease both personal relationships and relationship to news of the day? How can I utilize the tools of the program to deal with uncertainty?


   * * * * * *

Time for a new year inventory?   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 who prefer it, 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. And Jackie, of TMar, has a supply as well, if you're at a conference where they have a booth