Time...

 Last weekend, the Lloyd Center mall here in Portland closed after sputtering along the last few years. When built in 1960, it was the largest mall west of the Mississippi, and as a kid, offered a myriad of opportunities for fun and mischief and everything in-between. My cousins and I slid down the garbage chute in the big department store, waded in the fountain, slid down the escalator railings. My first date with my first  husband was there, and very likely, our last meal out together in the food court before the pandemic shut everything down. Last week, six of us who'd gone to grade school and high school together wandered the nearly empty hallways, remembering, laughing, getting misty with the sheer volume of memories. 

And soon, something else will take its place, and we old timers will drive by and say, "Remember when..." like we do at the site of a neighborhood high school that was torn down, the space where my first apartment burned down, and on and on. Years ago, my boss and I were on a work trip in Maine, and when asking for directions, the old guy we talked to said, "You turn where the Dunkin Donuts used to be." I can relate.

We spent the weekend in Seattle to attend a friend's wedding, a friend of a friend I first met at the San Antonio International in 2010. It was a sweet service, and very cool to meet several other AA folks with 40+ years, and several more in the 30's. I love seeing us out and about, living the dream(s) of long term sobriety (which includes the rollercoaster of good and not so good life-on-life's-terms). 

And on Monday, my closest friend, the friend who left treatment when I'd been there a mere 5 days, celebrated 41 years of continuous sobriety, one day at a time. As I tell him, my recovery wouldn't have been the same without that chance meeting that led to living together briefly (twice), travels, meetings and more meetings, losing loved ones, breakups and make-ups, moving and staying put and on and on. Much has changed in our lives over the years, but our friendship as well as our commitment to the 12 Step way of life has not. "Stick with the winners" applies as much today as it did at the beginning. 

It is the connections over time that prompt my gratitude, from the casual to the intense. In a recent meeting, a couple of people shared about having had time, going out, and now trying to make their way back. I hope to never have that experience - obviously for the pain of active addiction, but hugely for the people. What would I do without you? 

How would you describe the gifts of long-term sobriety? If, like many of us, you came to AA to get the heat off, what have been the unexpected joys of a life in recovery?

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Feeling like an inventory, or a deeper dive into your program? 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

Letting Go

 I attended one of those meetings last week that caused me to catch my breath with recognition, the connections available despite my thinking I'm the only one - the only one who forgets to turn it over, the only one who is sick and tired of thinking about my weight/diet/fitness, the only one who is face-to-face with the aging process. It has felt for awhile now that a shift is due, but a shift from what, a shift to what? I've long described myself as someone who'd rather be busy than bored, but that no longer seems to fit. But if that doesn't, what does?

Is all this merely the continued settling in to being retired? The deeper understanding that I'm now in my (early) 70's? The desire for space in my days? The chair person last week said that she tells herself to bring curiosity and oxygen to the situation (whatever that is). Ah yes. Relax and take it easy. Take a breath. Stay open to whatever is on the horizon. Call on gratitude for the whole of it. 

I mentioned my general dis-ease to a friend as we were leaving a meeting and she exclaimed,  "Oh! I love a spiritual nudge!" pointing out that I will know what I need to know when I know it. Maybe the "letting go" isn't necessarily about something specific but about letting go of the whole darn day. I can do the "upon awakening" routine, set an intention, and then proceed. Chop wood and carry water. 

On another note, sort of, a friend who is in her fifties was talking about aging and how for those of us who did not have children, the timeline feels different. Lacking all the markers of children- starting school, finishing school, getting married, becoming a grandparent Etc - can feel like we are in perpetual, if not adolescence, at least younger adulthood. That was exactly the topic for my Master's thesis way back in the year 2000- the idea that our culture continues to view the life narrative of adult women as being synonymous with motherhood. How do we, men and women,  measure time if not parenting? I can "borrow" a friend's journey, noting when they become grandparents for example as a reflection of aging perhaps, and my own creaky knees. And then there's recovery and our noting of time passing, time passing as a sober person, living longer than we'd likely anticipated.  

I'm a bit off- center this week. My new and old computers are in the shop undergoing the tech equivalent of a Vulcan Mind Meld. Yeah, sure, the smart phone is great, but I'm accustomed to the bigger screen and keyboard (yes, a luxury problem). And, our city has one of the worst air quality in the US due to wildfire smoke, with strong recommendation to stay indoors as eerie light filters through the windows. I can write a gratitude list z that I have an indoors to stay in, a computer to take to the shop, a working phone, doing my best to stay in the moment. Onward!

When did you last feel a spiritual nudge, and where did that lead? How do you let go when you notice your fists are tight? What's on your gratitude list today?