Whatever the actual topic was, conversation in a recent meeting wound its way to the balancing act between self-acceptance and holding oneself accountable, surrender and taking action, along with the ever present reminder to be honest with my motives. That part was reinforced in one of my daily readers - am I doing good/being nice/volunteering out of genuine desire to be of service, or am I looking for kudos? Am I saying "yes" to others in a way that equals "no" to myself? Valid questions, and one more reason to employ the pause.
On another note, Bill D, a member of our Now What community, has written a book about Hank Pankhurst, a pivotal founder of AA that we don't hear much about. Hank is the person who steered Bill towards "God as we understand God" or as I say, don't understand, and championed inclusivity. And he relapsed, dying from the effects of alcoholism, buried in a pauper's grave. For more info and/or to purchase the book, go to: http://imperfectprophets.com (Click Hank's photo on the main page for an "at cost" discount)
Relapse is an interesting and sometimes painful topic. Does one "lose" whatever insights gained during periods of sobriety? Do people start over from when they drank, or from zero? A lot of people with long term recovery had slips or lapses before this thing took. Does the person with a "one and done" date differ from the person who struggled?
In my experience, or rather, from my observations over the years, the more times one goes out, the harder it is to come back. I do believe that chronic relapse changes the brain, the ability to make healthy decisions, but that is me on the outside attempting to look in, trying to understand the person who can't/won't/doesn't stay sober. Then again, what is "success" in AA? On-going sobriety, or the "keep coming back" no matter what?
In thinking of my own decision to go to treatment, with absolutely no expectation or desire for ongoing sobriety, I did some kicking and screaming, some "Don't tell me what to do!" But I now wonder if some of that was performative, habitual. There was definitely fear of the unknown, but/and underneath the false bravado was a tiny shred of hope that life, that my life, could be different. At the moment, that meant different than sticking a needle in my arm and hanging out with ex-cons. Over time I saw that to also mean different than wishing and hoping, different than making my relationship my higher power, different than being scared to step beyond my comfort zone. I'm thankful I listened to the still, small voice that whispered, "Just see what happens if you say 'yes'".
Just see what happens if you sign up for a class at the community college, apply for the job that feels bigger than your abilities, say "What do you mean?" when your then boyfriend talks about taking the next steps. Just see what happens when a friend says, "We should run a marathon" or "I'd like to walk the Camino" or when an opportunity for service comes up. Just see what happens when I get out of my own way, my own ideas of how things "should" be.
Speaking of seeing what happens, my spouse is having knee replacement surgery in a few days. The work-leave paperwork is done, pathways in the house cleared, bags of ice in the freezer, schedule cleared. And now we trust the process, trust his medical team, trust that "this too shall pass." As with all things, this isn't something he/we need do alone. SO many people have had the same procedure, and not one has said, "I wish I hadn't done it." And... like so much of life, at this point it is an unknown, it being the procedure and the recovery process. My brother wondered whether the pain meds would be an issue. I don't think so. My husband works a strong program and is talking about what's happening, and ODAT doesn't need to be a martyr but plans to wean himself as soon as reasonable (and is talking with trusted others about the medication like we're told to do.) In the meantime, I can create space in my calendar and look forward to this enforced quiet month, with home time, driving to physical therapy appointments and being the drill sargent for at-home exercises (the loving and compassionate drill sargent, that is!)
I shared at a small zoom meeting out of northern California yesterday - a really nice group of people. I found my eyes watering with the reading of How It Works. I've heard it, and read it myself, probably thousands of times, yet sometimes the enormity of what it was like and what it's like now hits me. I can whine about this or that circumstance, feel anxious about perceived lack of control, etc etc etc and I am no longer a shivering denizen. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
How do you hold yourself accountable without beating yourself up? Do you remember to check your motives before making a decision, big or small? What is your experience of relapse, your own or someone elses? How do you express gratitude in your daily life?
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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
Book website: http://imperfectprophets.com (Click Hank's photo on the main page for an "at cost" discount)
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