As I'd expected, the new lumps are cancerous. So it's back onto chemotherapy, and hope that the new regime shrinks these lumps, in the same way that the first six months of chemo shrank the original small tumours. I go for another CT scan to see if it's metastasized to any of my major organs, and I'll keep you posted as to the news.
On another subject, it's a stunning day today, sunny and mild and beautiful. A glorious day in which to be alive. I'm going to put in some sewing work on the new coat I'm making for myself, and pray for guidance, comfort, strength and hope.
Where there's life, there's hope. A simple truth. I am so grateful for all of my friends, my brother and sister, and for my beloved Robert. One day last week, I was fed up and weeping, and he made a remark which made me burst into helpless laughter. What a man. And what an enormous gift he is in my life. A treasure, and the best thing that has ever happened to me, he is.
I'm feeling grateful for all of my blessings, and for the delicious sunshine.
Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
Friday, January 30, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Update
I had three biopsies in total, on 3 new lumps, and will get the results in a week or so - more waiting. Robert is feeling devastated that it wasn't an abscess - I think, in retrospect, I knew it wasn't, but was trying to be hopeful about it.
Just knowing is easier than waiting to know, I find. I'm not feeling devastated about it all, more that I'm back at the beginning of the chemo round - hoping that whatever they give me will shrink the lumps, as the first batch of lumps were shrunken. It's all completely beyond my control, but I just have to hang on to the information that it doesn't appear to be in any of my major organs, and that makes it much more workable.
Not much else to say today. Unusual for me.
Just knowing is easier than waiting to know, I find. I'm not feeling devastated about it all, more that I'm back at the beginning of the chemo round - hoping that whatever they give me will shrink the lumps, as the first batch of lumps were shrunken. It's all completely beyond my control, but I just have to hang on to the information that it doesn't appear to be in any of my major organs, and that makes it much more workable.
Not much else to say today. Unusual for me.
Friday, December 12, 2014
The Progression of Addiction; But First, A Silly Joke.
Robert and I were talking earlier today, about some of the alcoholics in our lives - whether in immediate family, or extended family, we agreed that often, they seem to be living in their own little universe, and that those of us who are not addicted, can have great difficulty understanding the thinking or the choices. He went on to joke that most alcoholics are the centre of their, and our, "soon-it's-worse."
That joke is silly, but it speaks of an unfortunate piece of reality. Alcoholism is a progressive, increasingly destructive disease, which if left untreated, will cause nerve, heart, liver, kidney, and brain damage - the list goes on endlessly. Over the ten years I was married to an active alcoholic, I watched him go from a man who could drink a 12-pack of beer and seem only moderately intoxicated, to a man who was drunk out of his mind on 6 beer, consumed over the same time period.
When I asked my doctor about this, he shook his head, and said that this was one of the signs that the alcoholic had moved into the latter stages of the disease. His body could no longer excrete the alcohol quickly, because his kidneys were no longer functioning at their previous level.
One afternoon, while I was rooting through the junk drawer in the kitchen looking for something, I found an invoice from a ambulance service. When I asked him what had happened, he refused to answer me. I phoned his best friend to ask if he knew - he told me that my first husband had started to vomit blood.
At the hospital, it was determined that he had thinning of the esophageal walls, a result of heavy alcohol consumption, and he was told if he didn't stop drinking immediately, he was courting death, that he could bleed out from one of the swollen veins in his throat before help could arrive.
He continued to drink, and I left the marriage about a year later. Almost three years ago, I was out walking my dogs, and encountered one of his daughters, now an adult with children of her own. She told me that her father was still alive, but in dreadful shape, because he was still drinking.
He was looking bad by the time I left him; I shudder to think what havoc and destruction another 26 years of drinking has wrought upon him. I pray for him, as I pray for my sister - not that they stop drinking, because that's not my job. I pray for their safety, and for my HP to bless them.
I feel enormous gratitude that Robert is not an alcoholic. Also, he has about 6 years of 12-Step experience, from the time when he was trying to quit smoking cigarettes, which he did manage to accomplish. As a result of this, he understands program principles, philosophy, and language, which makes for another area in which we are intimately connected.
I don't live with an alcoholic, both my birth parents are dead: the alcoholism in my family is my two sisters. The middle one is sober now, and the oldest is not. I have recently ended contact with my oldest sister, because I am no longer willing to subject myself to her verbal and emotional abuse. It was getting worse as her alcoholism progressed.
The last time I spoke with her, was when she called to rant and rave at me, because I'd asked her politely in a recent email to please not criticise our middle sister to me. That brought on a torrent of verbal abuse about how "people like you are so self-centered and selfish," - on and on she went, ad infinitum. I listened in astonishment for a minute or two, astounded that she would make a call and say things like that to me, when she knew I was going into hospital the very next day for the second major cancer operation, not knowing if I'd come through it, and yet she felt quite comfortable with calling to upbraid me, for setting a boundary with her.
That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back - I prayed about it, thought about it, talked to my sponsor, Robert, and a couple of program friends, then decided that I don't need to subject myself to that level of abuse just because we're related. A friend asked would I accept that from a stranger? I said I certainly would not. She smiled and raised one eyebrow, and we laughed together.
I cut contact off by writing another courteous email to say that's what I was doing, and why, then blocked her from my email. I recently changed my phone number because my ex got my old one, and she hadn't been given that yet, so she has no way of contacting me, since she doesn't have my address, either.
I find I can lose sight of what is and isn't appropriate, possibly because I've had so much verbal abuse earlier in my life from various family members, that it can feel almost like a normal family interaction. Al-Anon is teaching me that I have choices in these matters, and blood may be thicker than water, but it does not justify abuse.
That joke is silly, but it speaks of an unfortunate piece of reality. Alcoholism is a progressive, increasingly destructive disease, which if left untreated, will cause nerve, heart, liver, kidney, and brain damage - the list goes on endlessly. Over the ten years I was married to an active alcoholic, I watched him go from a man who could drink a 12-pack of beer and seem only moderately intoxicated, to a man who was drunk out of his mind on 6 beer, consumed over the same time period.
When I asked my doctor about this, he shook his head, and said that this was one of the signs that the alcoholic had moved into the latter stages of the disease. His body could no longer excrete the alcohol quickly, because his kidneys were no longer functioning at their previous level.
One afternoon, while I was rooting through the junk drawer in the kitchen looking for something, I found an invoice from a ambulance service. When I asked him what had happened, he refused to answer me. I phoned his best friend to ask if he knew - he told me that my first husband had started to vomit blood.
At the hospital, it was determined that he had thinning of the esophageal walls, a result of heavy alcohol consumption, and he was told if he didn't stop drinking immediately, he was courting death, that he could bleed out from one of the swollen veins in his throat before help could arrive.
He continued to drink, and I left the marriage about a year later. Almost three years ago, I was out walking my dogs, and encountered one of his daughters, now an adult with children of her own. She told me that her father was still alive, but in dreadful shape, because he was still drinking.
He was looking bad by the time I left him; I shudder to think what havoc and destruction another 26 years of drinking has wrought upon him. I pray for him, as I pray for my sister - not that they stop drinking, because that's not my job. I pray for their safety, and for my HP to bless them.
I feel enormous gratitude that Robert is not an alcoholic. Also, he has about 6 years of 12-Step experience, from the time when he was trying to quit smoking cigarettes, which he did manage to accomplish. As a result of this, he understands program principles, philosophy, and language, which makes for another area in which we are intimately connected.
I don't live with an alcoholic, both my birth parents are dead: the alcoholism in my family is my two sisters. The middle one is sober now, and the oldest is not. I have recently ended contact with my oldest sister, because I am no longer willing to subject myself to her verbal and emotional abuse. It was getting worse as her alcoholism progressed.
The last time I spoke with her, was when she called to rant and rave at me, because I'd asked her politely in a recent email to please not criticise our middle sister to me. That brought on a torrent of verbal abuse about how "people like you are so self-centered and selfish," - on and on she went, ad infinitum. I listened in astonishment for a minute or two, astounded that she would make a call and say things like that to me, when she knew I was going into hospital the very next day for the second major cancer operation, not knowing if I'd come through it, and yet she felt quite comfortable with calling to upbraid me, for setting a boundary with her.
That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back - I prayed about it, thought about it, talked to my sponsor, Robert, and a couple of program friends, then decided that I don't need to subject myself to that level of abuse just because we're related. A friend asked would I accept that from a stranger? I said I certainly would not. She smiled and raised one eyebrow, and we laughed together.
I cut contact off by writing another courteous email to say that's what I was doing, and why, then blocked her from my email. I recently changed my phone number because my ex got my old one, and she hadn't been given that yet, so she has no way of contacting me, since she doesn't have my address, either.
I find I can lose sight of what is and isn't appropriate, possibly because I've had so much verbal abuse earlier in my life from various family members, that it can feel almost like a normal family interaction. Al-Anon is teaching me that I have choices in these matters, and blood may be thicker than water, but it does not justify abuse.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Detaching Without Anger.
Before Al-Anon, the only way I knew how to detach, was with sufficient anger to keep me motivated to withdraw.
With years of program behind me, I can recognise, accept, let go, and detach, all without any anger at all. Some times, many times, what I'm feeling is wonder, at my own inability to see a situation with clarity, even when I've experienced it's like, many times in my own past.
Denial is like that, though - once I stop denying and begin to accept the reality of a situation, I can be stymied and baffled by my own ability (and willingness) to ignore red flags, ignore my own body sending up signals which indicate my discomfort, ignore the evidence of my own eyes, because I don't want it to be that way. I want it to be this way, instead. I'd like to rewrite reality, please.
When I heard in Al-Anon that I had a part to play in every situation in which I was personally involved, I fought the idea tooth and nail. I wanted to blame the alcoholic for everything, I didn't want to believe that I had any responsibility, and was completely resistant to the idea that anything I was doing, or had done, had contributed to my misery.
In Al-Anon, I have learned that if I'm there in the room, I have a role, and although it may be a small one, it's got my name on it.
With years of program behind me, I can recognise, accept, let go, and detach, all without any anger at all. Some times, many times, what I'm feeling is wonder, at my own inability to see a situation with clarity, even when I've experienced it's like, many times in my own past.
Denial is like that, though - once I stop denying and begin to accept the reality of a situation, I can be stymied and baffled by my own ability (and willingness) to ignore red flags, ignore my own body sending up signals which indicate my discomfort, ignore the evidence of my own eyes, because I don't want it to be that way. I want it to be this way, instead. I'd like to rewrite reality, please.
When I heard in Al-Anon that I had a part to play in every situation in which I was personally involved, I fought the idea tooth and nail. I wanted to blame the alcoholic for everything, I didn't want to believe that I had any responsibility, and was completely resistant to the idea that anything I was doing, or had done, had contributed to my misery.
In Al-Anon, I have learned that if I'm there in the room, I have a role, and although it may be a small one, it's got my name on it.
Friday, October 17, 2014
More Treatment
I saw an oncologist on Tuesday of this week, and she said that because I'm responding so well to the treatment, and tolerating it so well, also, that they are considering another twelve rounds of chemo as soon as the present batch is complete.
I'm feeling fine with that prospect. For me, chemo has not been the horror story I had been led to expect, from all the reading and listening to stories about "My aunt had cancer, and when she was in chemo it was awful, it aged her terribly, she was sick all the time, etc etc."
In the last year or so, I have noticed that whenever some people find out that one is facing a procedure, they will immediately begin reciting every horror story that they, or anyone they've talked to has ever heard. I was hugely fortunate, in that a friend in program whom I love and admire, had undergone one of the same major operations I was facing, and she had me over to her place to talk all about it, show me the scars, explain what to expect, what might hurt, what might be an improvement over the results of the first operation, and a few other things.
When I got back home that afternoon, Robert took one look at me, and said, "You look much better." I told him that this time with my friend had removed about 80% of the fear I'd had about that particular part of the second operation. And it has proven to be quite true, it's nothing as negative as some told me it would be, and it is a relief after the results of the first operation, which was most definitely not a success.
Had I not had her experience strength and hope, I would have been much more frightened, and some studies have seemed to suggest that the better of a headspace one is in before a procedure, the better one is able to deal with it, and any side effects.
One oncologist told me that she thought that chemo was about 10% medical, and 90% mental. I find that I have been able to go through it with gratitude, peace and joy, for my life, and time with my beloved, wonderful Robert.
When I was still so upset about the call from my ex, and obsessing as to how he had managed to secure my unlisted number, I called up my first sponsor here, and asked if I could come to talk? She immediately and warmly agreed, and I went to spend an hour and a half with her wisdom and support. When we hugged goodbye before I left, we were both a little choked up and teary. We have talked a few times about her unfortunate comment, and my over-reaction to it, but have put it down to just a misunderstanding, and agreed this time to resume working through the new 4th Step workbook, "Reaching For Personal Freedom"
We had barely started with it, when the misunderstanding took place, but I find that I miss the meetings with her, talking and laughing. My new sponsor is a great help to me, and I enjoy and appreciate her enormously. That doesn't mean I can't also enjoy and appreciate my first sponsor, and spend time in her company. We may not consider it a sponsor-sponsee relationship, but I'm thinking that it's in name only - the sharing of experience, strength and hope is all still there.
Knowing that I have people to whom I can turn, during difficult times in my life, has been a blessing for which I am continually, deeply grateful. And I truly believe that the practise of gratitude transforms our lives in ways we cannot imagine when we first start to try to work it.
I'm feeling fine with that prospect. For me, chemo has not been the horror story I had been led to expect, from all the reading and listening to stories about "My aunt had cancer, and when she was in chemo it was awful, it aged her terribly, she was sick all the time, etc etc."
In the last year or so, I have noticed that whenever some people find out that one is facing a procedure, they will immediately begin reciting every horror story that they, or anyone they've talked to has ever heard. I was hugely fortunate, in that a friend in program whom I love and admire, had undergone one of the same major operations I was facing, and she had me over to her place to talk all about it, show me the scars, explain what to expect, what might hurt, what might be an improvement over the results of the first operation, and a few other things.
When I got back home that afternoon, Robert took one look at me, and said, "You look much better." I told him that this time with my friend had removed about 80% of the fear I'd had about that particular part of the second operation. And it has proven to be quite true, it's nothing as negative as some told me it would be, and it is a relief after the results of the first operation, which was most definitely not a success.
Had I not had her experience strength and hope, I would have been much more frightened, and some studies have seemed to suggest that the better of a headspace one is in before a procedure, the better one is able to deal with it, and any side effects.
One oncologist told me that she thought that chemo was about 10% medical, and 90% mental. I find that I have been able to go through it with gratitude, peace and joy, for my life, and time with my beloved, wonderful Robert.
When I was still so upset about the call from my ex, and obsessing as to how he had managed to secure my unlisted number, I called up my first sponsor here, and asked if I could come to talk? She immediately and warmly agreed, and I went to spend an hour and a half with her wisdom and support. When we hugged goodbye before I left, we were both a little choked up and teary. We have talked a few times about her unfortunate comment, and my over-reaction to it, but have put it down to just a misunderstanding, and agreed this time to resume working through the new 4th Step workbook, "Reaching For Personal Freedom"
We had barely started with it, when the misunderstanding took place, but I find that I miss the meetings with her, talking and laughing. My new sponsor is a great help to me, and I enjoy and appreciate her enormously. That doesn't mean I can't also enjoy and appreciate my first sponsor, and spend time in her company. We may not consider it a sponsor-sponsee relationship, but I'm thinking that it's in name only - the sharing of experience, strength and hope is all still there.
Knowing that I have people to whom I can turn, during difficult times in my life, has been a blessing for which I am continually, deeply grateful. And I truly believe that the practise of gratitude transforms our lives in ways we cannot imagine when we first start to try to work it.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Letting Go Of Other People's Choices.
This past summer, Robert and I had a fantastic garden on the rooftop terrace - many residents of the building spoke about how much they enjoyed it.
In the last 3 weeks, someone has started stealing the plants, we've lost 6 very nice perennials, and who knows how many more will go - it's easy pickings, we can't be out there 24 hours a day guarding the plants. Last night, instead of taking both pot and plant, someone just dug up the plant, took it, and left the pot.
The first day I realised that plants were missing, I was shocked, but managed to let it go fairly quickly. The second time, about two weeks later, I was furious, frustrated, resentful, and all sorts of other unpleasant feelings. As I was walking down the hall to my apartment a short time later, I asked my Higher Power, "Please help me with this."
That has evolved to be pretty much the only prayer I use anymore, my HP doesn't need details, and going over them just brings up sad feelings for the realisation that some folks are thieves, and given an opportunity, they will steal. This is beyond my control. I can't change anyone but myself: if this person chooses to be a thief, I cannot stop them.
That's an unfortunate fact of life. What's my choice in this kind of situation?
I can either seethe and fume, thinking about it time and again, bringing my feelings to a boil and keeping them there, for hours, days, or weeks at a time, or I can ask my HP for help, and choose to let it go. Having cancer concentrates one's mind wonderfully in this kind of situation - I don't know how much time I have left on this earth, and I don't want to spend it in anger, resentment and revengeful feelings.
I choose serenity, and if I have trouble letting go on my own, I ask for help, and always, always receive it. After the second operation, I wasn't asking for help, I was in such shock from the terminal diagnosis.
As it turned out, I'm not terminal, I'm one stage before that, and people have lived with it for years at this stage. Robert's sister was terminal when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, but with the help of chemo, had three good years with her family before nothing more could be done. So, I'm hopeful, as she was further along the path than I.
The surgeon made a second pronouncement about what I would and would not be capable of, and that too has proven incorrect, but we believed him, he's at the top of his field in this area, so it took me a couple of weeks to realise that I was shutting my HP out. It wasn't from anger or resentment, but a result of overwhelming pain and sorrow. I was obsessing, mourning and grieving, and I was trying to do it on my own.
I'd look at my beloved Robert and see the agony in his face, see how he had lost his usual peaceful, witty, relaxed attitude, realise that he too was grieving terribly, and it mirrored my own state of mind.
We suffered from May 9th until June 6th, our first meeting with the oncologist I liked. The first one we met was not a good fit for either of us, so I'd asked to be assigned another doctor, and they got me into see her within a week. We both liked her immediately, and she was the one who said firmly that I am not terminal, it's not in any of my major organs, just my lymph nodes, and she couldn't understand why the surgeon would say I was terminal when he did the operation and stated in his report to Cancer Care that I had no metastases to any major organs.
I've talked to quite a few nurses and doctors since then, and it's fascinating to be told that surgical mentality is like no other, it's tunnel vision, they all seem to have enormous egos, and need them, in order to be able to do what they do.
As my GP said to me, in his inimitable British way: "If you had a small mole on your arm which was annoying you, I could give you a shot of local anaesthetic, and nip it off, but to take a scalpel and begin carving you up? I realised very quickly in medical school that I just don't have the temperament or the ego to be able to do that."
I've let go of my anger with the surgeon for scaring us, but I am going to send a letter asking him to consider referring people to specialists, rather than make pronouncements after a surgery, when the patient is first awake, which are taken to heart by the patient, but may be a mistake, as both mine were.
I've ranged far afield from the start of this post, but it's all about lack of control, and the Serenity Prayer:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
In the last 3 weeks, someone has started stealing the plants, we've lost 6 very nice perennials, and who knows how many more will go - it's easy pickings, we can't be out there 24 hours a day guarding the plants. Last night, instead of taking both pot and plant, someone just dug up the plant, took it, and left the pot.
The first day I realised that plants were missing, I was shocked, but managed to let it go fairly quickly. The second time, about two weeks later, I was furious, frustrated, resentful, and all sorts of other unpleasant feelings. As I was walking down the hall to my apartment a short time later, I asked my Higher Power, "Please help me with this."
That has evolved to be pretty much the only prayer I use anymore, my HP doesn't need details, and going over them just brings up sad feelings for the realisation that some folks are thieves, and given an opportunity, they will steal. This is beyond my control. I can't change anyone but myself: if this person chooses to be a thief, I cannot stop them.
That's an unfortunate fact of life. What's my choice in this kind of situation?
I can either seethe and fume, thinking about it time and again, bringing my feelings to a boil and keeping them there, for hours, days, or weeks at a time, or I can ask my HP for help, and choose to let it go. Having cancer concentrates one's mind wonderfully in this kind of situation - I don't know how much time I have left on this earth, and I don't want to spend it in anger, resentment and revengeful feelings.
I choose serenity, and if I have trouble letting go on my own, I ask for help, and always, always receive it. After the second operation, I wasn't asking for help, I was in such shock from the terminal diagnosis.
As it turned out, I'm not terminal, I'm one stage before that, and people have lived with it for years at this stage. Robert's sister was terminal when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, but with the help of chemo, had three good years with her family before nothing more could be done. So, I'm hopeful, as she was further along the path than I.
The surgeon made a second pronouncement about what I would and would not be capable of, and that too has proven incorrect, but we believed him, he's at the top of his field in this area, so it took me a couple of weeks to realise that I was shutting my HP out. It wasn't from anger or resentment, but a result of overwhelming pain and sorrow. I was obsessing, mourning and grieving, and I was trying to do it on my own.
I'd look at my beloved Robert and see the agony in his face, see how he had lost his usual peaceful, witty, relaxed attitude, realise that he too was grieving terribly, and it mirrored my own state of mind.
We suffered from May 9th until June 6th, our first meeting with the oncologist I liked. The first one we met was not a good fit for either of us, so I'd asked to be assigned another doctor, and they got me into see her within a week. We both liked her immediately, and she was the one who said firmly that I am not terminal, it's not in any of my major organs, just my lymph nodes, and she couldn't understand why the surgeon would say I was terminal when he did the operation and stated in his report to Cancer Care that I had no metastases to any major organs.
I've talked to quite a few nurses and doctors since then, and it's fascinating to be told that surgical mentality is like no other, it's tunnel vision, they all seem to have enormous egos, and need them, in order to be able to do what they do.
As my GP said to me, in his inimitable British way: "If you had a small mole on your arm which was annoying you, I could give you a shot of local anaesthetic, and nip it off, but to take a scalpel and begin carving you up? I realised very quickly in medical school that I just don't have the temperament or the ego to be able to do that."
I've let go of my anger with the surgeon for scaring us, but I am going to send a letter asking him to consider referring people to specialists, rather than make pronouncements after a surgery, when the patient is first awake, which are taken to heart by the patient, but may be a mistake, as both mine were.
I've ranged far afield from the start of this post, but it's all about lack of control, and the Serenity Prayer:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
Monday, September 8, 2014
Where Is My Focus?
When I came into Al-Anon, my focus was squarely upon the alcoholic. He seemed to take up all the space in our house, and in my mind. I didn't have to be with him to be obsessing about him and his drinking. He'd disappear for days on a bender, and I'd go to work, come home, feed the dogs and myself, worry for the entire remainder of the evening, then go to bed and toss and turn wondering where he was, what he was doing, and if I was going to hear a knock on my front door, and find police officers standing there, telling me that he was seriously injured, or dead.
It was a terrible way to live, and I did it for about 8 1/2 years, until I finally listened to my GP, and went to my first Al-Anon meeting.
I went to that meeting expecting all of the people there to be squarely focussed upon the alcoholics in their lives. When I was told that Al-Anon was for me, and that I needed to find a way to live in serenity whether the alcoholic was drinking or not, I was so surprised that I just pushed that concept to the side. It seemed clearly impossible.
Over the years that I have been in Al-Anon, I have become much better at aiming and focusing upon that which gives me pleasure, satisfaction, and hope. I have become more skilled at letting go of that which does me no good, only torments me, and over which I have zero control.
It's the same with cancer. I have a choice, I either obsess about it continually, ruining whatever time I have on this earth, or I let go of it, and live my live the way I would had I never had the diagnosis. I choose to do the latter, because I've learned how, and it allows me to take from each day enough to feed my soul and mind, and not open myself to worry, anger, stressful imaginings, and resentment.
Life is what I make it, to a great extent. This is true regardless of my income or social status. I am the one who gets up in the morning and decides whether or not I'm going to enjoy the day. Al-Anon has taken the furiously angry person that I once was, and transformed her into a woman who loves to laugh, and to make others laugh. That's an amazing feat, any way you look at it.
It was a terrible way to live, and I did it for about 8 1/2 years, until I finally listened to my GP, and went to my first Al-Anon meeting.
I went to that meeting expecting all of the people there to be squarely focussed upon the alcoholics in their lives. When I was told that Al-Anon was for me, and that I needed to find a way to live in serenity whether the alcoholic was drinking or not, I was so surprised that I just pushed that concept to the side. It seemed clearly impossible.
Over the years that I have been in Al-Anon, I have become much better at aiming and focusing upon that which gives me pleasure, satisfaction, and hope. I have become more skilled at letting go of that which does me no good, only torments me, and over which I have zero control.
It's the same with cancer. I have a choice, I either obsess about it continually, ruining whatever time I have on this earth, or I let go of it, and live my live the way I would had I never had the diagnosis. I choose to do the latter, because I've learned how, and it allows me to take from each day enough to feed my soul and mind, and not open myself to worry, anger, stressful imaginings, and resentment.
Life is what I make it, to a great extent. This is true regardless of my income or social status. I am the one who gets up in the morning and decides whether or not I'm going to enjoy the day. Al-Anon has taken the furiously angry person that I once was, and transformed her into a woman who loves to laugh, and to make others laugh. That's an amazing feat, any way you look at it.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Do What You Can And Let The Rest Go.
I told my GP when I was in to see him yesterday, that I felt as though I have had enough blood taken from me in the last two weeks, to fill a small dog. A Pomeranian, perhaps? We laughed together, and then had an excellent discussion on the way that serious illness can suddenly make clear to a person just what is and is not important.
Some of us are fortunate, and have had enough time in twelve-step programs, that we can already grasp to some extent, what matters and what truly does not. I find myself full of gratitude that I've had all these years in Al-Anon; I can just picture the roiling mass of anger, resentment and self-pity that I would be in this position, had I not had years learning to seek humility and serenity.
If I want peace, I need to do what I can, and let the rest go. I might be able to go out and walk in the park after treatment, but I also might only be able to come home and sleep for hours. It will be what it will be, and I have no control over it. What I do have are friends, my wonderful Robert, and a good solid program to help me get through whatever I am facing. I am content.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Spiritual Nudges.
For the last couple of weeks or so, I've been thinking about going back to a Tuesday night meeting that I always enjoyed. I have cut my meeting attendance down to once a week, but I've been thinking about this meeting lately, and remembering how satisfying it was for me, because I really like a lot of the members, many of whom attend faithfully each week, giving the meeting good continuity. It's a meeting with a lot of laughing, which I think is a sign of health and humility.
Then, yesterday afternoon at the office operating committee meeting, my first since the operation, I met up with one woman for whom this Tuesday night meeting is her home group, and after giving me a big warm hug, she asked, "Are you going to be coming back to our meeting again soon?"
Her question, coming on top of the meeting having been in my thoughts quite a bit, made me decide to start attending again. Once the decision was made, I realised that I am feeling a fair amount of delighted anticipation. I enjoy the positive nature and good humour expressed there. When I moved back here, I'd gone to a meeting within a night or two of arriving, but didn't like it particularly, as I was pretty much ignored. Now, this doesn't matter for me, because I've been in Al-Anon for 29 years, I knew there were another 10-12 meetings in a week here for me to check out, and I know full well that each meeting has a different flavour. But it bothered me because no-one asked if there were any visitors or newcomers, and I believe that's an important part of welcoming newcomers to our meetings - that we make the effort to acknowledge and welcome new people, trying to ease the way for them to feel comfortable and at home in the rooms.
This Tuesday night meeting was the second meeting I went to when I was first here, and as soon as I entered the room, a woman smiled at me, patted the empty chair beside her, and invited me to join her. She asked if I was new to Al-Anon, and when she found out I was a long-timer, we had an amusing conversation before the meeting began. It's a warm, welcoming meeting, whose members do their best to make it safe for all who attend.
There's a strong emphasis on the Steps and Traditions, and I always felt good when I walked back out to my car afterward.
So I'm going to pay attention to this spiritual nudge, and next Tuesday evening, I will be sitting in a church basement, listening carefully to all the people whose experience, strength and hope is such a gift and a blessing for me.
I've taken the pockets apart on the winter coat I'm sewing for myself, there was something about them which I found unsatisfactory, but only slightly. Nevertheless, over the many years that I've been sewing for myself, I've learned that I'm far better off to unpick and re-sew, than tell myself it's good enough - were I to do the latter, it would bother me for the life of the garment. Patience is a virtue.
Part of Al-Anon's teachings are learning when I need to let go, and when I need to re-do.
Then, yesterday afternoon at the office operating committee meeting, my first since the operation, I met up with one woman for whom this Tuesday night meeting is her home group, and after giving me a big warm hug, she asked, "Are you going to be coming back to our meeting again soon?"
Her question, coming on top of the meeting having been in my thoughts quite a bit, made me decide to start attending again. Once the decision was made, I realised that I am feeling a fair amount of delighted anticipation. I enjoy the positive nature and good humour expressed there. When I moved back here, I'd gone to a meeting within a night or two of arriving, but didn't like it particularly, as I was pretty much ignored. Now, this doesn't matter for me, because I've been in Al-Anon for 29 years, I knew there were another 10-12 meetings in a week here for me to check out, and I know full well that each meeting has a different flavour. But it bothered me because no-one asked if there were any visitors or newcomers, and I believe that's an important part of welcoming newcomers to our meetings - that we make the effort to acknowledge and welcome new people, trying to ease the way for them to feel comfortable and at home in the rooms.
This Tuesday night meeting was the second meeting I went to when I was first here, and as soon as I entered the room, a woman smiled at me, patted the empty chair beside her, and invited me to join her. She asked if I was new to Al-Anon, and when she found out I was a long-timer, we had an amusing conversation before the meeting began. It's a warm, welcoming meeting, whose members do their best to make it safe for all who attend.
There's a strong emphasis on the Steps and Traditions, and I always felt good when I walked back out to my car afterward.
So I'm going to pay attention to this spiritual nudge, and next Tuesday evening, I will be sitting in a church basement, listening carefully to all the people whose experience, strength and hope is such a gift and a blessing for me.
I've taken the pockets apart on the winter coat I'm sewing for myself, there was something about them which I found unsatisfactory, but only slightly. Nevertheless, over the many years that I've been sewing for myself, I've learned that I'm far better off to unpick and re-sew, than tell myself it's good enough - were I to do the latter, it would bother me for the life of the garment. Patience is a virtue.
Part of Al-Anon's teachings are learning when I need to let go, and when I need to re-do.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Similarities and Differences
I heard a woman today say that before meeting her third husband, she had reached a place of satisfaction with her life, and with herself, and she wasn't looking for a relationship. She had, however, decided that were a possibility to present itself, (himself) she was at the very least, open to the idea. In the spirit of that, she decided to sit down and make a list of what she required in a man. When she finished, her list contained 70 items.
I was awestruck. Several months before meeting Robert, while out walking one day, and talking to my Higher Power as I often do on solitary walks, I had said that if I was ever to get involved with a man again, I'd like him to have integrity, be capable of loving me, be someone I could love, and be a man I could trust and respect.
This woman and I were similar, in that we each felt that were we to get involved again, we needed some fundamental character traits to exist in a potential partner before we were willing to even consider becoming friends with him. My list was considerably shorter than hers, but that may have more to do with my having been in Al-Anon for many years, and having discovered that in order for me to be happy, I need to be more focused upon who I am and what I'm doing, and less upon what someone else is doing.
I have grown to like simplicity. This doesn't make my list right and hers wrong, it just makes them different. But I like to believe that there is more similarity between the two of us than there is difference. In our middle age, we each learned that we could be happy in ourselves, that we didn't need a partner to feel complete and satisfied. Neither of us was actively looking. That's also the case for Robert - he wasn't out looking for a partner.
So many times in my life, it has been when I've finally let go and accepted that I don't have something, and decided to be content and satisfied without it, that it will appear for the taking. I don't know how this works, I just know that it does. And pretending that I'm fine without it doesn't fool the universe in the slightest, I have to have truly turned it over, and let it go completely.
When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Some stay around for a while, some drop in and have only a few things to impart before moving on, and we may never see them again. This woman today felt like a teacher for me, and delighted me with her ability to impart her message with clarity and humour. Life is grand.
I was awestruck. Several months before meeting Robert, while out walking one day, and talking to my Higher Power as I often do on solitary walks, I had said that if I was ever to get involved with a man again, I'd like him to have integrity, be capable of loving me, be someone I could love, and be a man I could trust and respect.
This woman and I were similar, in that we each felt that were we to get involved again, we needed some fundamental character traits to exist in a potential partner before we were willing to even consider becoming friends with him. My list was considerably shorter than hers, but that may have more to do with my having been in Al-Anon for many years, and having discovered that in order for me to be happy, I need to be more focused upon who I am and what I'm doing, and less upon what someone else is doing.
I have grown to like simplicity. This doesn't make my list right and hers wrong, it just makes them different. But I like to believe that there is more similarity between the two of us than there is difference. In our middle age, we each learned that we could be happy in ourselves, that we didn't need a partner to feel complete and satisfied. Neither of us was actively looking. That's also the case for Robert - he wasn't out looking for a partner.
So many times in my life, it has been when I've finally let go and accepted that I don't have something, and decided to be content and satisfied without it, that it will appear for the taking. I don't know how this works, I just know that it does. And pretending that I'm fine without it doesn't fool the universe in the slightest, I have to have truly turned it over, and let it go completely.
When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Some stay around for a while, some drop in and have only a few things to impart before moving on, and we may never see them again. This woman today felt like a teacher for me, and delighted me with her ability to impart her message with clarity and humour. Life is grand.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Second Opinion
When I worked in police Victim Services, I was told during training, "When you go out on a call, never ignore your gut instinct. Don't try to talk yourself out of it. If you get a weird, uncomfortable, or anxious feeling in a situation, make an excuse, and leave immediately. Pay attention to your feelings. These things don't happen for no reason; that instinct twisting your stomach into a knot is originating somewhere, you aren't imagining it, you're picking something up, whether or not you are able to articulate just what that something may be. Get out of there!"
Working with that wisdom, I finally stopped trying to talk myself out of the discomfort I was feeling about the first surgeon I saw regarding my cancer. I'd been trying to rationalise and dismiss my bad feelings for a few weeks before I remembered that training talk, and thought, "I'm getting this feeling for a reason." I called my GP and asked for a second opinion.
I went on Monday to see the new surgeon, and both Robert and I liked him immediately. He was calm, relaxed, had studied my file, (unlike the first surgeon, who couldn't even tell me if the cancer had metastasized without looking up my file on his computer, it didn't occur to him that I might care to have that information, strangely enough) made eye contact with me, answered every question I had (and I had many unanswered questions from my 3 meetings with the first surgeon) and didn't give me that same feeling of wanting to get me out of the office as quickly as possible, so as to go on to the next appointment. After the physical exam, he said that he believed the cancer to be of an earlier stage, (he's been in his specialty for many years, with an excellent reputation) and he didn't believe I needed either radiation, or the radical surgery I'd been told was necessary to save my life.
So I've been spared pre-operative radiation, and the surgery I'm facing on Dec 5th will be as minimal as possible, to achieve the desired results.
Talking with Robert afterwards, we agreed that this guy inspires confidence, and we're feeling much less frightened by the prospect of surgery.
I've slept better since then, as well.
When I realised that I was once again trying to talk myself out of my gut instinct, I said a quiet prayer of thanks for all the wisdom that has been so generously shared with me over the years, both in program and outside.
May you have a pleasing and serene day, I know I'm going to.
Working with that wisdom, I finally stopped trying to talk myself out of the discomfort I was feeling about the first surgeon I saw regarding my cancer. I'd been trying to rationalise and dismiss my bad feelings for a few weeks before I remembered that training talk, and thought, "I'm getting this feeling for a reason." I called my GP and asked for a second opinion.
I went on Monday to see the new surgeon, and both Robert and I liked him immediately. He was calm, relaxed, had studied my file, (unlike the first surgeon, who couldn't even tell me if the cancer had metastasized without looking up my file on his computer, it didn't occur to him that I might care to have that information, strangely enough) made eye contact with me, answered every question I had (and I had many unanswered questions from my 3 meetings with the first surgeon) and didn't give me that same feeling of wanting to get me out of the office as quickly as possible, so as to go on to the next appointment. After the physical exam, he said that he believed the cancer to be of an earlier stage, (he's been in his specialty for many years, with an excellent reputation) and he didn't believe I needed either radiation, or the radical surgery I'd been told was necessary to save my life.
So I've been spared pre-operative radiation, and the surgery I'm facing on Dec 5th will be as minimal as possible, to achieve the desired results.
Talking with Robert afterwards, we agreed that this guy inspires confidence, and we're feeling much less frightened by the prospect of surgery.
I've slept better since then, as well.
When I realised that I was once again trying to talk myself out of my gut instinct, I said a quiet prayer of thanks for all the wisdom that has been so generously shared with me over the years, both in program and outside.
May you have a pleasing and serene day, I know I'm going to.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Humour and Gratitude
I'm hoping I can get in to see my doctor today to get the results of my biopsy. I'm feeling calm and relaxed this morning; I had a good sleep. Al-Anon has been a blessing to me; when I'm willing to do my part, it works during even the most stressful times in life. This is out of my control - I have a choice as to whether or not I spend my time chewing over the possibilities, or whether I let go, and decide to enjoy myself regardless.
Time spent with my partner yesterday was a peaceful and fulfilling part of my day - his love is a joy, and he makes me laugh. At dinner yesterday, after I'd been talking about some airheaded thing I'd done, he leaned towards me, straightfaced and serious, and asked, "Now that we're a team, do you think we could share the brain cell?"
I howled with delight. He grinned at me, and I was washed with a wave of gratitude for his presence in my life. I've been looking for a man like this all my adult life. He's gentle and kind, with a strength of character developed through his own sufferings; he's also wickedly funny, thoughtful, insightful and hugely supportive.
One of my adoptive parents was British, and she used the phrase "rub along together" to describe a state of contented enjoyment of each other's company - my partner and I rub along together very well. I've never felt the desire to get away by myself, that I felt with each of the two alcoholics who were my earlier long-term relationships - this man is the best companion a woman could wish for, and I find him enormously attractive. We each have our own pursuits, and when we get together again afterwards, I feel gratitude and delight in his company; he's fun. He's also a mad gardener, and has increased my stock of house plants exponentially.
I'd rather concentrate on those parts of my life which bring me joy and peace, than fulminate in a closed loop upon that which is beyond my power to control. I've done so much of that kind of obsessing in my life, and it's a terrible way to pass the time, because it's futile, and it winds me up from a beginning state of mildly upset, to a state of frantic frustration and overwhelming compulsion - I don't want to live like that ever again.
It works if we work it. I'll keep you posted.
Time spent with my partner yesterday was a peaceful and fulfilling part of my day - his love is a joy, and he makes me laugh. At dinner yesterday, after I'd been talking about some airheaded thing I'd done, he leaned towards me, straightfaced and serious, and asked, "Now that we're a team, do you think we could share the brain cell?"
I howled with delight. He grinned at me, and I was washed with a wave of gratitude for his presence in my life. I've been looking for a man like this all my adult life. He's gentle and kind, with a strength of character developed through his own sufferings; he's also wickedly funny, thoughtful, insightful and hugely supportive.
One of my adoptive parents was British, and she used the phrase "rub along together" to describe a state of contented enjoyment of each other's company - my partner and I rub along together very well. I've never felt the desire to get away by myself, that I felt with each of the two alcoholics who were my earlier long-term relationships - this man is the best companion a woman could wish for, and I find him enormously attractive. We each have our own pursuits, and when we get together again afterwards, I feel gratitude and delight in his company; he's fun. He's also a mad gardener, and has increased my stock of house plants exponentially.
I'd rather concentrate on those parts of my life which bring me joy and peace, than fulminate in a closed loop upon that which is beyond my power to control. I've done so much of that kind of obsessing in my life, and it's a terrible way to pass the time, because it's futile, and it winds me up from a beginning state of mildly upset, to a state of frantic frustration and overwhelming compulsion - I don't want to live like that ever again.
It works if we work it. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
"...Tried To Carry This Message To Others..."
There is only so much of me to go around. When I left my ex, I changed my cell phone number, and when he somehow obtained it and began to call me, rather than get a new cell phone number, I chose to get a landline. When I leave home, and anyone calls me, they get voicemail, and the next time I'm back at home, I return the call. It's not possible to reach me at every hour of the day or night by telephone. There's a certain glorious feeling of freedom when I'm with my sweetheart at his place, and I know that no-one can get in touch with me. For the same reason, I don't take my laptop to his place, because emails can wait for a reply, also.
Some of my sponsees are chained to their phones, and find it irritating in the extreme that I am not instantly and always available. I understand this, but I've learned over my years of sponsoring that I'm not indispensable to anyone - it can actually be helpful to a sponsee to not be able to reach me, and as a result, for them to choose to call another program member for support. It's not healthy for me, or for them, if they consider me their sole source of support. I like us to have a weekly meeting for working through the Steps together, and I will take whichever calls I am able, when I'm at home. When I'm out, I'm free of any feelings of responsibility for, or to, my sponsees. I give what I can, and that's enough.
This blog is another way I practise Step 12 in my program. Some periods of my life, I write on an almost daily basis, other times, not so often, but I do what I can, and try to discipline myself, without
turning it into a millstone around my neck. I will now and then receive a thank you letter from a reader which will bring a lump to my throat, because their words take me back to the time when I was new to this wonderful program, and just beginning my journey to recovery. I am powerfully grateful to my Higher Power for the love, acceptance and joy I have been given in my life, and for the ability to be of some use.
I can only do what I can do, and lately, my sweetheart has been getting the lion's share of my free time. It's still new and still amazing to me that we can get along in such peaceful serenity, livened by dashes of humour, and sprinkled with grace.
I hope that you are having a calm and satisfying weekend.
Some of my sponsees are chained to their phones, and find it irritating in the extreme that I am not instantly and always available. I understand this, but I've learned over my years of sponsoring that I'm not indispensable to anyone - it can actually be helpful to a sponsee to not be able to reach me, and as a result, for them to choose to call another program member for support. It's not healthy for me, or for them, if they consider me their sole source of support. I like us to have a weekly meeting for working through the Steps together, and I will take whichever calls I am able, when I'm at home. When I'm out, I'm free of any feelings of responsibility for, or to, my sponsees. I give what I can, and that's enough.
This blog is another way I practise Step 12 in my program. Some periods of my life, I write on an almost daily basis, other times, not so often, but I do what I can, and try to discipline myself, without
turning it into a millstone around my neck. I will now and then receive a thank you letter from a reader which will bring a lump to my throat, because their words take me back to the time when I was new to this wonderful program, and just beginning my journey to recovery. I am powerfully grateful to my Higher Power for the love, acceptance and joy I have been given in my life, and for the ability to be of some use.
I can only do what I can do, and lately, my sweetheart has been getting the lion's share of my free time. It's still new and still amazing to me that we can get along in such peaceful serenity, livened by dashes of humour, and sprinkled with grace.
I hope that you are having a calm and satisfying weekend.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Loving Patience
One morning I received an email from my middle sister, and having read it, wanted to reply with annoyance, "Doesn't anything positive ever happen in your life, that you could tell me about?" I closed out my email program, and went out to my rooftop patio garden to do my first daily wander about, and found one of my daylilies had put up a scape. Looking at the tag for the name, I read - "Faithful & True." Sigh.
I was feeling unfaithful in my love for my sister at that moment, unfaithful in the respect that I didn't want to have to deal with her negative attitude, and I wanted to get an email from her that I could enjoy, instead of one which would require me to sit and think about how best to reply, so as not to cause her any further unhappiness.
I'm reminded of the phrase commonly attributed to a doctor's Hippocratic Oath: "First, do no harm."
Isn't that an excellent slogan for all of us in Al-Anon? I wonder, how much harm have I been responsible for in my life, just through impatience? I have worked with sponsees who were determined to convince me that courtesy simply required too much time - time they didn't have in their busy lives. I've been guilty of that same attitude for many years when new to program - others should adjust to me.
What has become truth for me now, is that I need to be able to feel comfort in the way I respond to the world around me, whether to those close to me, or to strangers. My serenity requires that I'm able to believe that I've done my best, in the daily round of encounters. This means that if I get an irritation rising in my chest, from someone else's words or actions, I take a step back and detach. I give myself enough time to stop and think, to question how well this almost-response of mine will sit with me a few hours from now?
I want to be what I've heard described as "a soft place to fall" for those who depend upon me for comfort and support, and I enjoy being a positive force for good feelings, in my movements in this world. I do it for myself, other people happen to benefit as a side effect.
I was feeling unfaithful in my love for my sister at that moment, unfaithful in the respect that I didn't want to have to deal with her negative attitude, and I wanted to get an email from her that I could enjoy, instead of one which would require me to sit and think about how best to reply, so as not to cause her any further unhappiness.
I'm reminded of the phrase commonly attributed to a doctor's Hippocratic Oath: "First, do no harm."
Isn't that an excellent slogan for all of us in Al-Anon? I wonder, how much harm have I been responsible for in my life, just through impatience? I have worked with sponsees who were determined to convince me that courtesy simply required too much time - time they didn't have in their busy lives. I've been guilty of that same attitude for many years when new to program - others should adjust to me.
What has become truth for me now, is that I need to be able to feel comfort in the way I respond to the world around me, whether to those close to me, or to strangers. My serenity requires that I'm able to believe that I've done my best, in the daily round of encounters. This means that if I get an irritation rising in my chest, from someone else's words or actions, I take a step back and detach. I give myself enough time to stop and think, to question how well this almost-response of mine will sit with me a few hours from now?
I want to be what I've heard described as "a soft place to fall" for those who depend upon me for comfort and support, and I enjoy being a positive force for good feelings, in my movements in this world. I do it for myself, other people happen to benefit as a side effect.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
AA Rally -con't.
This morning I awoke early, which allowed me to get up and go hear the two spiritual speakers at the rally, first the Al-Anon speaker, and then the last AA speaker. The Al-Anon speaker was very difficult to hear, and much of what she was saying was unintelligible. I found myself daydreaming throughout her talk, unable to concentrate, because I couldn't distinguish what she was saying. The interesting thing about this, to me, was that even with this being the case, the energy in the room was undiminished. I've noticed this at meetings I've attended. Sometimes, a person will speak and their voice is so soft that they sound more like the whisper of a breeze rustling through leaves, than a person speaking. But somehow, the attention of everyone in the room upon that person, the active listening and the respect we give to each person talking, is no less for the words being unheard. The feeling carries us.
The second speaker was wonderful, he'd been in AA for many years, and was humble, honest, and funny about his own character defects and attitudes. I love it when a recovering member, whether in AA or Al-Anon, truly begins to grasp the insanity of their own thinking, and see the humour in what would once have caused them stress and anger.
Overall, I found the rally a great experience, and I'm very grateful to the friend who gave me a ticket as a gift. I'd have gone anyway, but this made it more fun, because when she asked today how I was enjoying it, and then said, "You don't need to reply to that, I can see the answer in your face" and we grinned happily at each other, the sense of shared understanding was a lovely feeling.
At the last AA meeting, when the speaker reached the point in the introductory reading from How It Works: "Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go ... Many of us exclaimed..." an audience member leapt to his feet and yelled "What an order!" He was no sooner back in his seat before another rose to shout "I can't go through with it!"
This was obviously pre-arranged, and made most of the audience laugh, but a middle-aged couple at our table was grumbling about it. They were saying to each other how much they'd hated it, yada yada yada. I wanted to, but didn't, turn to say, "If you just decided not to let it annoy you, you wouldn't be sitting there in an AA meeting, feeling annoyed instead of grateful or at peace."
I had decided ahead of time that I was going to have a marvellous time at the rally, and I did just that. But how many times in my life have I fixated on the one thing which hasn't gone the way I thought it should, or expected, and that has been what I've obsessed about, while allowing the chance of enjoying the present moment to pass me by unnoticed? Many times. Most of the time, when I was very new to program.
I am deeply grateful that I don't focus on what annoys me, and the corollory of that, which is that fewer and fewer things annoy or irritate me. They just aren't worth my time and effort. I don't need to feel superior or turn up my nose at the things that others find fun. I can allow them their joy, and feel my own. Life is good, thanks to this wonderful program.
The second speaker was wonderful, he'd been in AA for many years, and was humble, honest, and funny about his own character defects and attitudes. I love it when a recovering member, whether in AA or Al-Anon, truly begins to grasp the insanity of their own thinking, and see the humour in what would once have caused them stress and anger.
Overall, I found the rally a great experience, and I'm very grateful to the friend who gave me a ticket as a gift. I'd have gone anyway, but this made it more fun, because when she asked today how I was enjoying it, and then said, "You don't need to reply to that, I can see the answer in your face" and we grinned happily at each other, the sense of shared understanding was a lovely feeling.
At the last AA meeting, when the speaker reached the point in the introductory reading from How It Works: "Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go ... Many of us exclaimed..." an audience member leapt to his feet and yelled "What an order!" He was no sooner back in his seat before another rose to shout "I can't go through with it!"
This was obviously pre-arranged, and made most of the audience laugh, but a middle-aged couple at our table was grumbling about it. They were saying to each other how much they'd hated it, yada yada yada. I wanted to, but didn't, turn to say, "If you just decided not to let it annoy you, you wouldn't be sitting there in an AA meeting, feeling annoyed instead of grateful or at peace."
I had decided ahead of time that I was going to have a marvellous time at the rally, and I did just that. But how many times in my life have I fixated on the one thing which hasn't gone the way I thought it should, or expected, and that has been what I've obsessed about, while allowing the chance of enjoying the present moment to pass me by unnoticed? Many times. Most of the time, when I was very new to program.
I am deeply grateful that I don't focus on what annoys me, and the corollory of that, which is that fewer and fewer things annoy or irritate me. They just aren't worth my time and effort. I don't need to feel superior or turn up my nose at the things that others find fun. I can allow them their joy, and feel my own. Life is good, thanks to this wonderful program.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Seeking To Improve Conscious Contact with My Higher Power.
Two weeks ago, upon the urging of a program friend, I went to the non-denominational church she attends, and was delighted to discover that the female pastor sounds just like 12-Step in her talks. She's also wonderfully funny, and today I was in fits of laughter, while also having tears in my eyes as she spoke.
She talked about how if we will take the first step onto a new journey, if we will show our willingness with just that one step, our Higher Power will carry us forward a great distance. Sometimes a door opens, we step through it, then immediately change our mind and turn, wanting to go back through the door, but it's now closed, and we have no choice but to stay stuck on the sill, or step forward into the unknown.
I was thinking of the decision I made to leave my marriage after 17 years, and how afraid I was to strike out on my own. I moved back here, to the city I have loved since first coming here at the age of 21 - 34 years ago. I had been living elsewhere for 16 years, yet I wasn't back a day before I felt that I had come home. This is my home, this small city on the ocean. I'm living within a ten-minute walk to the seawall, and when I go down to the sea, I feel enormous gratitude that I made that decision to come home.
In not quite 9 months I have made a life for myself down here which is so much more than I ever imagined possible in a short time. I have friends who light up at the sight of me, I have a suuny bright apartment with a glorious view of the city's largest park, a mere 3 blocks away, room to garden on the rooftop patio, meetings where I am appreciated and loved, and best of all, peace of mind.
During the last years of my marriage, I didn't realise how living with an angry alcoholic was destroying my ability to feel good about myself. It wasn't until I took the first step the pastor spoke of this morning, and was carried to this place, this moment, that I understand more fully just what I was giving up each day that I stayed with someone who was so detrimental to my spiritual well-being.
I met a program friend at church this morning, and we were joking after the service, that sometimes it doesn't feel like being carried along, so much as it feels like being snatched up by a vacuum cleaner. But if we can trust the process, and trust our Higher Power, we will arrive in a peaceful place again.
Yesterday, on my way back from the library, I stopped into the Cathedral one block up the street from my place, and was thrilled to discover that the organist was practising - oh, what a glorious sound! I love big church organs, and this one is enormous, and I sat for 15 or so minutes in a church empty of anyone but me and two other people transfixed by music. What a gift.
She talked about how if we will take the first step onto a new journey, if we will show our willingness with just that one step, our Higher Power will carry us forward a great distance. Sometimes a door opens, we step through it, then immediately change our mind and turn, wanting to go back through the door, but it's now closed, and we have no choice but to stay stuck on the sill, or step forward into the unknown.
I was thinking of the decision I made to leave my marriage after 17 years, and how afraid I was to strike out on my own. I moved back here, to the city I have loved since first coming here at the age of 21 - 34 years ago. I had been living elsewhere for 16 years, yet I wasn't back a day before I felt that I had come home. This is my home, this small city on the ocean. I'm living within a ten-minute walk to the seawall, and when I go down to the sea, I feel enormous gratitude that I made that decision to come home.
In not quite 9 months I have made a life for myself down here which is so much more than I ever imagined possible in a short time. I have friends who light up at the sight of me, I have a suuny bright apartment with a glorious view of the city's largest park, a mere 3 blocks away, room to garden on the rooftop patio, meetings where I am appreciated and loved, and best of all, peace of mind.
During the last years of my marriage, I didn't realise how living with an angry alcoholic was destroying my ability to feel good about myself. It wasn't until I took the first step the pastor spoke of this morning, and was carried to this place, this moment, that I understand more fully just what I was giving up each day that I stayed with someone who was so detrimental to my spiritual well-being.
I met a program friend at church this morning, and we were joking after the service, that sometimes it doesn't feel like being carried along, so much as it feels like being snatched up by a vacuum cleaner. But if we can trust the process, and trust our Higher Power, we will arrive in a peaceful place again.
Yesterday, on my way back from the library, I stopped into the Cathedral one block up the street from my place, and was thrilled to discover that the organist was practising - oh, what a glorious sound! I love big church organs, and this one is enormous, and I sat for 15 or so minutes in a church empty of anyone but me and two other people transfixed by music. What a gift.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Being Pushed To Think Differently.
Spnsors can be vital in this role, as can life itself. I've been having to accept that some of what I'm struggling to allow into my mind as just the way it is, was that way before we married. Did I believe that with enough effort, the right way to say it, the necessary influence, I would be able to change those realities? I may have. I may not have fully understood the wear patterns upon even the very best part of us, that living with an alcoholic can create.
I was thinking today of a time when we were newly married, and he'd started asking for "favours" from me. This is an example of the way that language is used to minimise the loss of entire countries of self - the borders are re-drawn, the name is changed, and soon, only the old (old friends, in my case) can clearly recall a time when things were not this way.
I offered up so much of myself in hoping that the gift of me would satiate the endless wanting. Straw or gold, it was devoured with the same intensity in the fire of his addictive personality. I gave what I now see was the treasure of myself; to him, it was third-rate lumber, comsumed in no time, leaving him always, always, wanting more. Those "favours" that I did for him, almost destroyed my sense of self. I'd be still reeling from the effects of one, and he'd be at me, mocking me for my response, and continually wanting another.
Living alone, with Spirit to guide me, is blissfully peaceful. I pray to feel compassion for the devouring alcoholic, and for myself.
I was thinking today of a time when we were newly married, and he'd started asking for "favours" from me. This is an example of the way that language is used to minimise the loss of entire countries of self - the borders are re-drawn, the name is changed, and soon, only the old (old friends, in my case) can clearly recall a time when things were not this way.
I offered up so much of myself in hoping that the gift of me would satiate the endless wanting. Straw or gold, it was devoured with the same intensity in the fire of his addictive personality. I gave what I now see was the treasure of myself; to him, it was third-rate lumber, comsumed in no time, leaving him always, always, wanting more. Those "favours" that I did for him, almost destroyed my sense of self. I'd be still reeling from the effects of one, and he'd be at me, mocking me for my response, and continually wanting another.
Living alone, with Spirit to guide me, is blissfully peaceful. I pray to feel compassion for the devouring alcoholic, and for myself.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Changed Attitudes - HIndsight
At one time in my recovery, I'd have said that hindsight is extremely useful - all those realisations not possible any other way. But now, I see it more as turning once again to mine the past, trying to gain wisdom there, working and living not in this day, today, but stepping back to add shame to our ignorance or innocence.
We can't know what we don't know.
No amount of self-belittling now, will change our inability as human beings, to gaze into the future and make sound decisions as a result of what we see gathered there.
I must let go of my younger self's not being able to see past the love and infatuation of a new marrage.
No amount of shame ladelled upon my head at this age, will change a molecule of the choices the younger me went on to make. Allow them. Be at peace with them. Be at peace with her. Lift up my eyes from this vantage point, and feel gratitude for the love and care with which I am surrounded.
I have only to ask, and I will find my pathway swept and marked for me, and loving companions with whom to walk.. But first, I must turn my face from the past, let go of furture outcomes, and live in this day, fully.
I've learned not to consider rain a personal affront, but to dress for it. So much of life can be lived in this way.
We can't know what we don't know.
No amount of self-belittling now, will change our inability as human beings, to gaze into the future and make sound decisions as a result of what we see gathered there.
I must let go of my younger self's not being able to see past the love and infatuation of a new marrage.
No amount of shame ladelled upon my head at this age, will change a molecule of the choices the younger me went on to make. Allow them. Be at peace with them. Be at peace with her. Lift up my eyes from this vantage point, and feel gratitude for the love and care with which I am surrounded.
I have only to ask, and I will find my pathway swept and marked for me, and loving companions with whom to walk.. But first, I must turn my face from the past, let go of furture outcomes, and live in this day, fully.
I've learned not to consider rain a personal affront, but to dress for it. So much of life can be lived in this way.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Road Rage - Another Name For Bad Manners
A few days ago, after checking first, to make sure I wasn't being followed closely enough to be rear-ended, I slowed to stop for a pedestrian at an unmarked crossing, and when he looked at me to make sure that's what I was doing, I waved him on. He was young, in his early twenties at the most, and when he smiled, gave a wave of thanks, and stepped off jauntily to cross the four lanes of traffic, a shattering blast of horn broke out behind me. He froze in front of my car - he knew that I, at least, knew he was there and wouldn't mow him down.
A look in my rearview mirror, and I saw the man in the large pickup behind me, wave his arms in that gesture meaning, "What are you doing!"
I pointed to the pedestrian, wondering if the driver hadn't seen him, and was thinking I'd stopped at the end of the block for no real reason.
His response was to punch the fist of one hand, violently into the palm of the other, face suffused with rage.
I thought of the phrase I use as a meditative tool: "Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace." and not knowing I was about to do so, blew the enraged driver a kiss.
Rather than respond with increased fury, the driver's rage seemed to deflate; he changed lanes and dropped back. It was as though he'd lost interest in that which had so infuriated him just a moment before.
I thought of myself, so angry at everything when I came into this program, so completely unable to see my own part in the troubles of my life, so desperately longing for connection and a sense of love, and yet unable to attain it, becauce first, I had to understand that if I wish to have a friend, I must be one. If I wish love, I need to behave in a way that does not alienate and hurt the people in my life.
We none of us live in a vacuum, but so many of us newly in, are self-absorbed to the point we are unable to recognise the pain that we have called. We rationalise all of that.
Step 4, we stop with the game-playing and the blaming. We accept that each of us has human frailty, and admit that we have done some harm ourselves.
A look in my rearview mirror, and I saw the man in the large pickup behind me, wave his arms in that gesture meaning, "What are you doing!"
I pointed to the pedestrian, wondering if the driver hadn't seen him, and was thinking I'd stopped at the end of the block for no real reason.
His response was to punch the fist of one hand, violently into the palm of the other, face suffused with rage.
I thought of the phrase I use as a meditative tool: "Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace." and not knowing I was about to do so, blew the enraged driver a kiss.
Rather than respond with increased fury, the driver's rage seemed to deflate; he changed lanes and dropped back. It was as though he'd lost interest in that which had so infuriated him just a moment before.
I thought of myself, so angry at everything when I came into this program, so completely unable to see my own part in the troubles of my life, so desperately longing for connection and a sense of love, and yet unable to attain it, becauce first, I had to understand that if I wish to have a friend, I must be one. If I wish love, I need to behave in a way that does not alienate and hurt the people in my life.
We none of us live in a vacuum, but so many of us newly in, are self-absorbed to the point we are unable to recognise the pain that we have called. We rationalise all of that.
Step 4, we stop with the game-playing and the blaming. We accept that each of us has human frailty, and admit that we have done some harm ourselves.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Changed Attitudes
I was doing yoga exercises this afternoon, listening to an Al-Anon speaker, and kept having to pause the file, to get up and run over to the kitchen table to write down what she'd just said. This woman spoke about her version of "contempt prior to investigation" and her description caused me to realise that I've been doing just that about my new living quarters. As of the first of Sept, I will be living in an apartment. I've only lived in two or three in my life, becauce I had all sorts of reasons why I didn't like them, and preferred a house.
At the moment, my options are severely limited due to my finances being severely limited. I've been offered a one-bedroom in an area of town I love, close to a large park, and the ocean. It's very small, but it will be my peaceful, private nest.
I have a choice, do I concentrate upon how much I'd rather live in a house with my dog, which at this time, is not within my financial reach, or do I concentrate upon the blessing of this little private space which will be mine alone, and in which I will be able to learn and heal from my sorrow? My choice.
One makes me feel hard-done-by and self-pitying, one makes me feel grateful. I want gratitude, and peace of mind. I want to be able to accept what I am given in life without always wanting something different. It isn't that I believe we shouldn't strive for more, I do, but I"m realising that in the unhappy years of that marriage, I had some belief in geographic cure.
And that never works, because I have to take myself with me. My same crazy over-thinking self would be along for the ride no matter where I went. So I choose gratitude, and the work required to remind myself of my choice, when those little thoughts slide across the forefront of my mind.
At the moment, my options are severely limited due to my finances being severely limited. I've been offered a one-bedroom in an area of town I love, close to a large park, and the ocean. It's very small, but it will be my peaceful, private nest.
I have a choice, do I concentrate upon how much I'd rather live in a house with my dog, which at this time, is not within my financial reach, or do I concentrate upon the blessing of this little private space which will be mine alone, and in which I will be able to learn and heal from my sorrow? My choice.
One makes me feel hard-done-by and self-pitying, one makes me feel grateful. I want gratitude, and peace of mind. I want to be able to accept what I am given in life without always wanting something different. It isn't that I believe we shouldn't strive for more, I do, but I"m realising that in the unhappy years of that marriage, I had some belief in geographic cure.
And that never works, because I have to take myself with me. My same crazy over-thinking self would be along for the ride no matter where I went. So I choose gratitude, and the work required to remind myself of my choice, when those little thoughts slide across the forefront of my mind.
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