Miracles

 A topic in a meeting this past week was "miracles of sobriety," big or small, past or present. Small or big, depending on your perspective, I get to drive cross-country with a friend this week, riding along for their move to Washington DC. Road trip! 

Planning the drive brought back a memory of my meth-cook boyfriend, Richard, and a trip he'd planned with a couple of friends. I don't recall exactly where they were headed - Michigan? New York? In any event, after a day and a half, he called from a truck stop, practically begging me to send him a bus ticket home. He said his pals left him. My guess is that he was dope-sick. It was sad, and reinforces the miracle of freedom to pick up and go without worrying if I have enough pills (or whatever) to make the journey.

Earlier in recovery, when I was a church-goer, I participated in a weekly discussion group before service, usually related to a reading or topic. One morning, we were on the topic of miracles, with one of the members, an attorney if I remember correctly, disputing the idea of miracles, believing that word was limited to loaves and fishes, or walking on water. In this guy's opinion, things like childbirth, medical cures, and yes, sobriety, were simply facts of nature, as in, there is nothing special about natural events, or doing what should've been done all along. 

On a strictly factual basis, sure, I can see what he meant. Long ago I read the book, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People," (H. Kushner) with the premise that there are natural laws in the world - as in, like our animal brethren, we humans are born and die, sometimes tragically or seemingly too soon, but life is random.

But, anyone who has watched a newcomer go from shivering denizen to health and productivity would call that a miracle of sorts. And think of our own stories - is it an actual miracle that I stopped drinking and using in time? That I didn't die at the end of a syringe? It sure felt like it to me, and to my mother.

No reason to quibble over semantics. Big "M" or small "m" miracles are in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes the sun coming up on a summer morning, or watching a flower turn into a tomato feels like a miracle, but maybe that's just me noticing the wonders of nature. Sometimes listening to music in a park with old friends feels like a little miracle, given all those from our school days who've died from the drink or the drugs. And sometimes, still, simply waking up clear-headed and alive feels something close to miraculous.

And here we are in August, with the slightest hint of fall in the air. Some of my friends don't like June's summer solstice as it signals the beginning of shorter days, but I rather like the shifts and changes, with ripening gardens and a morning chill. I haven't been in school for a long time now, but still feel the end of summer urge to stock up on desk supplies and maybe buy a new outfit or two (though being retired, I've made the decision to only wear comfortable shoes and pants with pockets). 

The eighth month equals the 8th Step - amends. According to a workshop by Lila R, at this point, the only amends due are probably to myself. If I'm diligent with Step 10, there likely aren't a bunch of unresolved conflicts lurking in the wings. And if there are any pesky characteristics bouncing around that cause problems with my loved ones (or strangers, for that matter), I can use this opportunity to clean my side of the street. What a gift, this program of recovery. I've had recent conversations with friends who are butting heads with people not in AA or Alanon, recognizing that those friends most often simply do not have the tools we do - the tools to stay current with our own emotions as well as a template for correction/amends as the need arises.

What "M" or "m" miracles do you recognize today, whether tangible or perhaps a change in thinking? How do you perceive the change of seasons in the world, or in your own life? How does program help you navigate uncharted territory? Are there any amends, to yourself or others, that you can address this month?

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See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample of the "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" workbook with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th 

Old ideas

 For the past 7 or 8 summers, my high school has held an "All Years" gathering at the park adjacent to our school. I went this past weekend, looking forward to seeing a few people who didn't make it to our 50th reunion last year, including my 8th grade boyfriend, and another guy who was part of the pot-smoking park crew. The former boyfriend, of slow dancing and making out in basements at parties when we were 13 or 14, mentioned that we'd lost touch once high school started, and that we must've taken different paths. Boy howdy, did we ever! While he was rightfully being a student, I spent most of my non-class time in the park, smoking cigarettes or pot, drinking on weekends. Yes, different paths. 

Different paths, and so nice to reconnect with him and several others, with the shared frame of reference of our neighborhood, our times, our memories. And, as always for me, the weird realization of the passage of time, whether interacting with people I've known since I was 9 or getting ready to celebrate 30 years recovery of someone I 12-Stepped. Time marches on.

We were in beautiful British Columbia on vacation last week, seeing the sights, visiting Intergroup in Vancouver and Victoria, hitting a few meetings, and otherwise touristing. Good to get away, and always good to get a bit of a program re-set via hearing perspectives new to me. "Principles before personalities" is always easier for me to do in a room of strangers!

And, being out of my usual routines often seems to make room for new insights, whether prompted by something heard in a meeting, or simply the mental space generated by being in unfamiliar surroundings. I became aware of a few old ideas, masquerading as truth, which can be an awkward realization as my brain attempts to justify itself.

Awareness of my old ideas came in the form of blinding revelations when I initially explored 12 Step philosophy and how that related to my patterns of thinking. Moving from daily use, from "me, me, me" to the process of evaluating my thoughts before they turned into actions took constant effort. I'm grateful for sponsorship, a couple of good therapists, and friends who were there to bat around these new concepts (Honesty? Open-mindedness? Willingness?)

These days, old ideas sneak up on me, out of the cobwebs into consciousness. An example - I realized that confidence, especially in a female, equates to conceit in my indoctrinated misogyny. Heaven forbid one believe in oneself, lest they appear vain. Sometimes in really listening to the lyrics of love songs from the 1960's, I think, "Well no wonder I got all screwed up in the romance department," hearing over and over again that "I can't live without you." So, don't be too confident, you're nothing without a mate, and for the guys. "Big boys don't cry," - all the subtle and overt socializations that make up the web of old ideas.

And with Steps 6 & 7, I have the opportunity to release "my way" and those characteristics that get in the way of my usefulness and serenity. For me, that means paying attention to the instant reactions, asking "Is that true or is that an old idea?" It also helps me, when I can exercise the pause, to follow a thought through to the "how important is it?" question. In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter that some car passed on the right? Probably not. I can get pissed off about a whole lot of things that cross my path in a day, or I can say, "Oh well," and move on towards what's really important - love, family, friends, honesty, open-mindedness, willingness.

How do you recognize old ideas today? What actions of others can you release to the "How important is it?" bin? In long term recovery, how do Steps 6 and 7 play out in your day-to-day life?

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See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample of the "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" workbook with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th 

Understood

Human life occurs only once, and the reason we cannot determine which of our decisions are good and which bad is that in a given situation we can make only one decision; we are not granted a second, third, or fourth life in which to compare various decisions. ~Milan Kundera   (Book: The Unbearable Lightness of Being 

This quote came up on social media this week, with news of M. Kundera's passing. I find myself arguing with the premise that we only have one shot. Obviously, we're born, we live, we die, so we don't actually get a second life, and as people in recovery, I really believe that we're given another chance to get it right, "it" being this life and how we are in it. Pre-recovery I was chained to the bottle and the bag, fighting the hangover, existing in that nether world of unspoken fears, knowing deep down inside that I was killing myself, but terrified of the unknown if I were to stop.

 I count my sobriety anniversary more importantly than my "belly-button birthday" as that is when I truly started to live, to participate, to make healthy decisions, to grow into the potential that parents and teachers often told me I had (though my fulfillment of that potential and their ideas are likely very different. But maybe not. My mom wanted me to be happy, to not break the law, to be kind - probably in line with where recovery has taken me).

In meetings twice this past week, the topic was related to why we keep coming back. If the initial motivation was to get sober, get the heat off, stop hurting, why continue when those needs have been satisfied? Some believe that stopping meetings equals returning to the drink. That isn't always true, from what I've seen, but I definitely benefit from on-going contact with my peers. I first went to meetings out of desperation, not wanting to drink again, needing to fill my time with a positive (or at least neutral) activity, obsessed with getting my meth-cook boyfriend sober. Over time that shifted to a quest for emotional safety while I navigated the rocky path of causes and conditions. And from the beginning, the fellowship surrounded me with a detached kind of love that let me know I'd be ok, no matter what. And, that they understood where'd I'd been.

That is important, and not exclusive to my recovery relationships. I'm in touch with my former sister-in-law in the UK, something like 40 years after the fact of my boyfriend leaving the country to marry another woman. She was married to his older brother, a domineering, charismatic, bigger-than-life man. My boyfriend lived in his brother's shadow, culturally and by disposition, following the brother's orders. It was a crazy life of comings and goings, flying here and there, sometimes with ten or twelve family members in tow, and while my sis-in-law was definitely not alcoholic, she was there and frequently remarks how no one else quite understands what we experienced. It's like those of us in the rooms - "normies" do not get it. Being with those who understand matters.

Being with those who understood, and who were willing to dive into life mattered so very much, negating my fears about being "stupid, boring and glum." Hardly. From those 1980's AA dances, to hiking, to travel, to volleyball games, to meetings on the beach, you showed me that sobriety could be filled with laughter and joy, interspersed, of course, with gut wrenching tears of grief and fear - in other words, the whole of life.

I have several friends who celebrate sobriety milestones this month, including my spouse. Congratulations to all who decided to get sober in the middle of summer. When the time is right, the time is right, and even though my sober-versary isn't for a few months, this is the time of year that memories of that last painful summer come up, as I tried to maintain the appearance of being OK when I was anything but. As a friend once said, "It's not the yets that scare me, but the agains." I never want to go anywhere near how I felt back then. 

What is it that keeps you coming back as a person with long term recovery? What are the various places (or people) where you feel understood? 

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See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample of the "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" workbook with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th 

Nature abhors a vacuum

 According to Aristotle, nature abhors a vacuum. When I asked my radiation doc about the on-going swelling around my surgical site, he pulled up computer images that showed the empty space where my tumor had been, telling me that part of healing is my body filling in the empty space, and that it takes time. Time - the final frontier! Oh me of little patience, of "now, please."  Waiting is an action, or so I'm told. 

I've also observed the truth of "nature abhors a vacuum" in my program. My six-month co-secretary position for an online group, which involved selecting a reading and chairing every other week, came to an end, and within days, a woman asked if I'd sponsor her through the Steps. I appreciate the opportunities to put my program into action, especially the ones that seemingly appear out of nowhere.

I have a handful of sponsees, all of them with time. Speaker Lila R addresses this - that when we get decades under our belts, we might best serve by working with others who are in the same vicinity. I do remember what it was like, but don't feel I have much more than encouragement to offer the newcomer. My sponsees, like myself, have years of experience staying sober, benefiting from the occasional check in or Step work. That being said, I also have a small handful of trusted others I go to - over time, these friends know me, know my history, and are willing to give honest feedback. All these years in and it is still the fellowship that keeps me coming back and keeps me on track. 

So, I can trumpet "nature abhors a vacuum," trusting the process that what is mine to do will present itself, and, sometimes I need to hang out in the vacuum, the in-between, the "I'm not sure," or the "I wonder what's next." Be still and know, as a friend likes to say. If I'm too busy trying to figure it out, I'm not making space for the still small voice, the internal knowing that comes to me quietly. Sometimes the voice whispers the big stuff, like "It's time to go," or "Do not open your mouth right now!" but more often the voice simply says, "Clean the kitchen," or maybe "Give so-an-so a call." "Keep it simple" is always a good reminder.

And something I very much need to remember as my sister-in-law progresses into a diagnosis of dementia. I feel badly for her, of course - what a scary thing, to be aware that your cognition is slipping away - and, I have deep sadness for my brother, a good man who is doing what needs to be done (like replacing small appliances with those having an automatic-off feature). When I shared my concern with him, saying I don't imagine he expected his retirement years to play out this way, he pointed out that he hadn't really had any expectations, no grand plans to sail the Nile or walk the Camino. I don't know which makes me sadder - that this is happening in their lives, or that he never really expected to be happy anyway. A bit of a curmudgeon, my little brother - very smart and very funny, and, where I inherited the family disease of alcoholism, he got the genetic lottery of depression that comes and goes. 

So what's a sister to do? Love him, offer my support, which might mean sitting with his wife while he's at an appointment, and continue to take care of myself in the Alanon manner of releasing my ideas of what their life should look like. That being said, I do understand that it is very ok to be sad, to grieve the slow slipping away that is dementia. And, one more time, I'm reminded that aging is no joke, and that one never knows what is next, for any of us.

A group of women gathered this week who hadn't, in this configuration, for about five years. Our shares centered on all that's gone on in those years, the massive and tiny bits of life on life's terms. Five years is a relatively small window of time, a mere blink, but a lot has gone on in my own life, not to mention the global pandemic. What I'm left thinking about is taking a step back to ask, "How has program carried me through?" Like the pitiful, incomprensible demoralization that brought us to the rooms, the details of the last five years (or three weeks, or 20 years) are different for each of us, but it is the internalized principles of the program that help me navigate my personal ups and downs and in-betweens.

So many of my friends' lives are in flux right now - some with happy changes, some not so much. If you are in-between, how is it you are able to seek or maintain balance as you wait for the earth beneath your feet to stop moving? 

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See the Jan 13, 2023 post for a sample of the "I've Been Sober a Long Time - Now What?" workbook with 78 pages of topics, member's views, and processing questions. Available in PDF format ($12.95) for those of you outside the US (or who prefer that format) or hardcopy ($19.95 mailed to you. Email me at shadowsandveins@gmail.com with questions.  You can order from the WEB VERSION of this page, payment link on top right. Note that the workbook is also available at Portland Area Intergroup at 825 NE 20th