We were in internet purgatory for a week and a half, which involved lengthy phone conversations with robots and humans, changing appointment times, spotty connections, blah blah blah. Due to the type of phone plan I've had, and going over my allotted minutes, I temporarily turned my smart phone into a dumb but serviceable phone only (calls and texts). I'll live, obviously, but my discomfort is an excellent indicator of how accustomed I've become to having a brain in the palm of my hand. As much as I complain about technology (more accurately, my lack of knowledge) I very much appreciate being able to check the weather in Timbuktu, describe a symptom to Dr. Google, or throw in a few words from the Big Book to learn what page the passage is on.
Luxury problems abound, depending on where I steer my attention. Is it "me, me, me - wahhhh!" or can I shift to "Ah, well, now I have more time for reading/gardening/playing with the cats"? I can turn just about anything into a "problem" or I can focus on the MANY positives in my day. Bottom line, I am alive, sober and reasonably healthy, today.
I mentioned that I ran into the best man from my first marriage at the grocery store. I posted our picture, and, as expected, got many comments from people we grew up with. As a friend once pointed out, he grew up in a small town, while I grew up in a neighborhood - a neighborhood that encompassed our high school and the 8+ feeder grade schools full of baby-boomers. Many of us stayed in the area, or our parents did, so it makes sense that I so often see those from "back in the day" at the store, or sometimes out for a walk.
It's kind of like that in AA, with "neighborhood" defined by area of town and meetings attended (before or after covid). We share meeting lore, from old-times to newcomers and everyone in between, like the stellar Saturday nooner where many of us were watching The Sopranos on TV, often quoting from that week's episode in our shares, or dinners after the Friday meeting where we'd laugh so hard we could barely eat. And then there were 6 of us from that Friday group, plus 1, who went to Paris, with 4 of us running the marathon. I can remember shares from long ago, bits of wisdom I carry forward, sometimes conjuring the one who shared who's now in the big meeting in the sky (or is nowhere, depending on your belief system).
So, yes, I love the neighborhood aspect of our program, but also the anonymity that has me relating to someone I've never seen before. A fellow chaired our group this week that I didn't know, and if I'd seen him out and about, wouldn't have recognized him as "one of us." I love how we can go incognito, out living our lives as people in recovery. Of course, there's the guy with the NA keychains hanging off his belt, or the young woman I saw at a race with "I've been clean for 6 months" on her t-shirt, but usually we're just going about our business, then sharing stories around the metaphorical campfire when we gather.
And the whole thing about "we do together what we can't do alone" keeps coming up. This week was now the second time I was asked to sign as witness to a friend's end-of-life planning documents, and as I've shared, several times I've helped a program elder move into assisted living. I've shared details of my cancer journey with those newly diagnosed, just like I reached out (reluctantly) and someone shared with me.
I recently unearthed a book I "borrowed" from our grade school library called Put Your Best Look Forward. Originally written in 1957, it was outdated by the time I got to it in 1966 or 67, but I was so hungry for guidance that just about anything would do, even this book that had very un-feminist advice about how to develop "feminine allure" (Geez, I was 12...) with instruction on diet and exercise, having a pleasant voice, make-up - the whole shebang. Couple that with pop songs of the day (as in "I'm nothing without you") and no wonder I was thirsty! Back then I didn't know I could ask for help or advice - from Mom, friends, friend's older sisters, etc. Again and always, so grateful that I've learned I don't have to figure it all out on my own, whether that's silly, like asking a glamorous neighbor how to wear a particular scarf, or more seriously, how to walk through mine or a loved one's illness. Oh how I used to complicate things...
Who are your go-to's for life advice or support? How do you feel about asking for help these days? How might you move the meter to gratitude if you find yourself in a snit?
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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
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