New Lumps

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.

Happy To Be Alive And Well This Christmas

I got up late this morning and am having tea and breakfast before I shower and go to the Christmas Day meeting here in town. I like to go to these meetings, because I've noticed that they are usually full of newcomers who are suffering high stress at this time of year. I think it's good to have some old-timers there, it balances the meeting a bit more.

As of May this year, I was told by my surgeon that I had six months to a year to live. (This was challenged and disputed by my oncologist, who said I could live for years with cancer in my lymph nodes, with regular chemo)  I wasn't sure if I'd live to see another Christmas. My last CT scan was clear, so it may still be in my lymph nodes, but the rest of my body is cancer free at the moment.

That's pretty much the best Christmas present I can recall receiving.

I'm grateful for time with my beloved Robert, who can make me laugh no matter what the circumstance. I'm grateful to be alive, and feeling well, and also because I'm getting a port installed in my shoulder this coming Tuesday. I've developed a ferocious allergy to the adhesive in the plastic bandages used to cover my PICC line, so it's coming out, and a port is being put in. I can't wait - the port sits just under the skin, so no more bandage changes, no more wrapping myself up like a sandwich before showering, and NO MORE ITCH!

The itch from the allergy has been driving me to distraction. But it will be over soon, and my arm will feel much better.

 I'm grateful for Al-Anon, which is where I learned about the practise of gratitude.

Bless you all, and Happy Christmas.

The Lamb Has Wolf Whiskers.

Silly title, I know, but it was only recently that I came to the realisation that once again, I have been sucked into the "orbit of self" of a sober alcoholic. I was gobsmacked when I began to see the pattern.

The details are irrelevant, what does matter is that I am still, 2 1/2 years out of my long-time marriage to an alcoholic, susceptible to some of the behaviors.

I have spent many years trying to be a use and a comfort to those in need - on the Crisis Line, in Victim Services, as a sponsor, so it takes me a while to stand back and say, "Wait a minute, I'm not comfortable with this - why is that?"

This time, it took me a couple of days, but when the light finally dawned, it illuminated some of the old, old patterns of behavior I've fallen into, so many times in my life. I can still get sucked in to the "Poor Me, See How I Suffer" dance, and be whirled around the ballroom a couple dozen times before starting to think, "I'm feeling some dizziness and deja vu, what's really going on here, inside my head?"

I can start out wanting to offer encouragement, support and help, do it willingly and gratefully, and it can take me ages before I am able  to see that the supply line is only going in one direction. In good friendships, it goes both ways. In times of trouble, there can be a momentary shift, but it will soon settle back into a mutual give-and-take.

I'm deeply grateful for a sponsor who has the directness of honesty, the love of program, and the willingness to suggest oh-so-gently that I'm, well, barking mad on a particular subject. She's off on holiday right now, and I hope she's having a magnificent time. She made a point of letting me know that I could still reach her by email, and we've exchanged a few. Whenever I think of her, I smile, because she's such an enormous gift in my life. It's powerful to know that this person I love will take me to task if she thinks I need it, but do it in such a gentle way that I can hear what she is saying, and feel nothing but gratitude.

Yesterday I had a visit, from the partner of the friend whose death propelled me to look with clarity at my life and my marriage of 17 years, and was thereby instrumental in getting me out, into this new and amazing life with Robert and my program friends down here.

Their anniversary, and my dead friend's birthday are coming up, and his partner is struggling with his grief this time of year. We sat and talked and laughed, because like Robert, my friend was one of life's great masters of humour, able to use it to comfort, to enrich, to warm, and I spent many hours with him, laughing so hard I'd have tears in my eyes, having to take off and wipe my glasses, and beg him to stop, oh stop, my sides hurt from laughing.

He was such a gift, my friend, he and his partner would still, after 21 years together, light up at the mere sight of one another. I remember being delighted at the strength of their union. With Robert, I understand for the first time in my life what it is to feel safe, loved completely, and know that this wonderful man walking in the door, will have me laughing myself silly in no time. We spend a lot of time laughing together, over life, and over nothing at all.

I'm going for a CT scan on Nov 6th, in the hopes that it will show the cancer to have been reduced somewhat. I wasn't nervous about it at all, because the two lumps I have which are palpable, have been greatly reduced in size, and that's good news. But Robert admitted that he is a little frightened.
I know I would be, too, were our positions reversed.

Humour Opens Our Hearts As Nothing Else Can.

I went for my 5th chemo treatment yesterday. I had just made myself comfortable in the chair, when a woman about my age, and her friend, were led to the chairs directly across the aisle. They were discussing IV's, and how the friend could not for the life of her watch the IV being inserted. Because they seemed open and friendly, I commented that I was the same, I can't watch, or I begin to feel a strange wooziness.

We began to joke  back and forth, and soon were laughing hilariously over each other's dog, family member, and doctor, stories. It was wonderful, the time flew by, while we kept ourselves vastly entertained for almost three hours, until Robert arrived to get me, and they too were finished, and going home.

I was thinking about it later, and realised that this time, chemo was fun, because these two women were funny, friendly, open, thoughtful, kind, all sorts of good things, and willing to share of themselves with me. It would have been very easy to have just been a group of two, I see that often in the chemo room - people may say hello and smile politely, but they don't want to talk, and I respect that.  So I read, or lay back in the chair and think of all of the things for which I am grateful, including chemo, or maybe even doze a bit.

Robert sat with me through the entire first chemo, but I've convinced him that I don't need him to do that, and he can easily drop me off, then come for the last 15-20 minutes until I'm unhooked and can leave. He feels guilty, as if he's abandoning me. I know I have his support, I don't need him to be stuck in there for 3 hours with me, I feel better if he goes off and does whatever he needs to do in the intervening time. I take books to read, and I have always been able to entertain myself when I'm alone, so if the people in the chairs around me don't want to talk, I read, or people watch.  He felt better this time, to meet these women and hear that we had been laughing for almost 3 hours together.

It was fun to enjoy chemo. I'm so grateful for all the gifts in my life.

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.

CYA, and Awfulising.

An aspect of modern medicine that I've found increasingly distressing, having been at the receiving end several times over the years, is the practise of many doctors to give one the worst possible scenario or outcome of whatever it may be that they are diagnosing us with. In this way do they "indicate the desire to document one's lack of culpability for foreseeable negative outcomes" or, to put it another way, "make sure that they cannot be blamed or criticized later for something."

I understand that this may be a result of increased litigation when things go wrong, and that it's most likely only fair to be honest about possibilities, but what I find disturbing, is this being done at the early stages of diagnosis, before tests such as CT scans, MRI, ultrasound, etc.

3 times in the last 3 months people I know have received an initial diagnosis which has scared them witless with the severity, only to be told after the testing is completed, that it's not nearly as bad as first thought.

So I wonder, what is gained by terrifying anyone with the possibilities of the worst possible outcome?
What good does it do to tell a person who has just suffered a spinal injury in an accident, that they may never walk again? Couldn't this wait until testing has proven the spinal damage to be that extensive and permanent?  Is it really necessary to give that information to someone whose spinal canal is still so swollen from the accident that no real long-term information can be gleaned until the swelling subsides?

What good is accomplished by telling a newly diagnosed cancer patient that they may have to have disfiguring surgery, before testing to stage the cancer tumour has begun?

My first sponsor called this "awfulising" and warned against it in all areas of life. She would interrupt me when I was engaged in a bout of awfulising, and state firmly that what might happen was beyond my control, I could do nothing whatsoever to change the outcome, why was I torturing myself with various ghastly possibilities? What did I get from doing this?

I used to quote the hoary old phrase "Expect the worst, and one might be pleasantly surprised" not knowing that by expecting the worst, I was robbing today of its pleasure, to try to arm myself against what a tomorrow might never bring.

Had I not had 29 years of membership in Al-Anon, the two months since my diagnosis with cancer would have been a very different experience. I'd have worried, fretted, agonised, stressed, and kept myself in a fever of fear and terror, continually presenting myself with hideous scenarios of what was going to happen to me in cancer treatment. Because I've had the years in 12-Step, I knew and know, enough to let that behavior go as a waste of precious time. I can push the reality out of my mind, and enjoy the moment. I can laugh helplessly with my beloved partner or another friend, I can work as a sponsor for those who seek my assistance, I can feel heartfelt and powerful gratitude for the wonders of my life today.

One sponsee used to try to have "what if" conversations with me, in which she would invent terrible outcomes for the alcoholic, and feel almost as much agony in the contemplation of those imaginations as she would have had they taken place. I finally declared that "what if" conversations were now off-limits, and I wasn't going to have one more of them with her. Her response, after a moment of silence, was an endearing giggle. This woman is newish to program, but her sense of humour is a gift and a treat. I admire her for it; by the time I came into Al-Anon, my sense of humour was long gone. I was completely unable to laugh at my own insanity. I took myself far too seriously, and wanted everyone else to do the same.

We know that we are getting somewhere in working this program when we can begin to truly laugh at the nuttiness of our old thinking. When we can stop wanting others to sit silently while we catalogue our woes, and then tell us how well we are doing in shouldering our burdens, when we can honestly take an interest in another person, rather than pretending to do so in order to have them listen to us, we are beginning to grow.

Awfulising is self-defeating, tedious, tiresome, and boring for the listener. Who wants to hear a litany of complaint or negativity? How are we sharing experience, strength and hope? That's the question of the day.

What Do I Have To Offer?

In Al-Anon, a sponsor can be of invaluable help. For those of us who start out with firmly closed minds and determined ideas, a sponsor can, with a combination of direct speaking, humour and encouragement, create a safe enough environment that we can begin to step out from behind our social mask of "Oh, fine thank you!" to reveal the true feelings we carry. These may include rage, fear, frustration, loneliness, or despair that we will ever attain the serenity about which we hear so much.

When I was first asked to sponsor someone, I was terrified; I couldn't see what on earth she thought I had to give. I still often felt like I was barely managing to maintain my newfound serenity. When I asked her, a long time later, it turned out that she liked my ability to laugh. She felt as though she'd lost her sense of humour completely, and she wanted it back more than anything else she could imagine; she wanted to be able to howl with laughter. This member felt that she'd evolved into a dry and serious woman who could barely muster a fake chuckle, and she wanted to be able to laugh until her eyes were wet, and her stomach muscles hurt. She remembered laughing like that in childhood, and early adulthood, before her marriage to an alcoholic. The constant financial problems, other stresses, strains and heartbreak, had slowly eroded her ability to find humour in everyday life.

When I hear those who have a strong program declare that they don't sponsor, because they don't belive they've got anything to give to a sponsee, I will sometimes tell them this story. Perhaps they have the idea that they need to be deeply involved in Al-Anon, with many years of experience, and lofty things to share at meetings, before they will be of value as a sponsor. For me, it was my ability to see the humour in the small things we observe, the silly choices we can make, the ironies of our behavior, that were attractive to my first sponsee. She wanted to hang out with someone who laughed often, in the hopes that she'd be able to regain her sense of humour, and she did. We used to have long involved philosophical discussions punctuated by helpless laughing fits. She told me many times over the years that it was my ability to laugh at my own craziness which made it possible for her to loosen her iron grip on her self-control, and let go of her desire to be perfect.

So please, don't refuse to sponsor because you don't think you've got anything to offer - what you have in abundance, may be just what another member so desperately needs.

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.

Spiritual Growth

I spent today at our local once-yearly Al-Anon Day. I began the day with a shift beside my sponsor at the registration table, greeting people as they arrived, writing them a nametag, laughing together, and wishing them an excellent day.  During a lull in arrivals, I was drinking a cup of tea, listening as my sponsor and another old-timer discussed whether or not this year's turnout was less than last year's, and wasn't it wonderful to see so many newcomers to Al-Anon here today?

Then our replacement arrived to take over the table, and we went in to lunch. I sat with some women from a group I attend once a week, and we laughed until we were gasping for breath. I love that kind of laughter, howling with delight, as we discussed our own insane thinking. There is nothing so funny as our character defects, once we begin to understand and accept the human frailties that we all share.

After lunch, I went to the workshop entitled "Spiritual Growth."  I had a choice of three, and the other two were "Fear" and "Forgiveness."

I have been working with my sponsor every week on a Fourth Step, because I knew I needed to do an in-depth Step Four when I left my marriage. I didn't want the grief and sorrow to overwhelm me, and drag me back down to a place I'm so grateful to have left behind, where I was obsessed with the alcoholic's behavior and choices, and full of anger and resentment. I knew if I didn't get myself a sponsor quickly when I moved here, I'd have a much harder time of it.

I've realised through working with her, that I don't have fear any more. Grieving the death of my friend, and the decision to leave my marriage when I did, and finding out that when I was in the depths of grief my Higher Power would always help me, allowed me to let go finally, of worrying and fear.  As I heard someone say today:

 "If you pray, why worry? If you worry, why pray?"

I've also realised,with the help of my sponsor, that the alcoholic was incapable of doing things any differently. He didn't do what he did because he wanted to hurt me, he did those things because that's all he knew how to do. That's how he's always managed in his life, and it's worked for him. I've come to an understanding, a peaceful forgiveness. I can look back, and feel compassion, because it must have been terribly stressful to try to keep that house of cards in the air.

So I chose the workshop on spiritual growth, and I'm glad I did. We were in a small back room, and when I walked in, there was my sponsor and a couple of my other friends from my home group grinning at me. I sat beside them, and felt enormous gratitude that I could be there, at that moment.

When I was moved to speak, I kept my sharing very short, and spoke of a quote which has always stayed with me since the first time I heard it a couple of years ago:

"We know that we are growing spiritually when humility is something we seek, instead of being something that we feel is being forced upon us."

Humility. That's what makes me willing. Willing to serve my fellow members in any way I'm able, whether that's chairing a meeting, working in a service position, or helping to clean up after Al-Anon days.

This afternoon, I stood and marvelled at the way that about 20-25 of us, with nobody organising or directing, had cleared the conference room out, washed and put away dishes, and left the kitchen and the big room shining and spotlessly clean, all without anyone telling anyone else what to do. It's an amazing display of humility and service, that we can work together in that way, with good humour and laughter, to do what needs to be done.

Hugging after meetings used to wierd me out when I was a newcomer, I would shoot out the door immediately after the end of the closing prayer so that I didn't have to take part in all that hugging, it just wasn't comfortable for me. I've changed so much in this program, because now I can go up to someone and offer a hug, or ask for one, and I can give hugs with no embarassment, and with a full heart.

I was lucky enough to be able to give a couple of friends a ride home, and I and sat with one in her driveway,  and talked for a half hour or so, both of us high on gratitude for the people with whom we'd spent the day, and for the God of our understanding.

I love Al-Anon, it has given me the ability to be a person I can respect and love, an appreciation and love for others, and a deep and abiding love for my Higher Power. 

Like Finding A Lost Friend

Reading a new post from Mr. Sponsor Pants  today enlivened me, he's another of what I think of as "long-time dedicated 12-Steppers" who has most likely, not much clarity on the way his sharing changes lives.

When we are willing, in a meeting, on a blog, in sponsorship, to reveal the primal us, we give to another, a gift impossible to name - shared humanity, perhaps. Safety in knowing that for all of us, the new and the old-timers, those of us who struggle furiously, those who paddle and splash a bit to see what happens, and those who open both hands against our "knowing" because the wisdom tells us to do it, counter-intuitive to what the me-brain wants, that we are not alone, there is always someone who has walked that path before us, who is willing to turn and extend their hand.

That hand may be sweaty, sticky, or cold to the touch, but the fingers curl around our own, and we feel the Spirit in the offering.

Thank you for all who give of themselves, however they may do it, for the sake of the ones who come behind, and the sake of their own sanity, it matters not why, it is the giving.

I pray to stay open and honest.

Pride Comes Before A Fall.

I was talking to an Al-Anon friend yesterday, about the elderly gentleman who had been so utterly convinced that he knew exactly when "The Rapture" was coming. She made me laugh when she said, "How's that for a life lesson on "Don't project! and "Stay in the moment!"

I replied that he didn't seem to be a person who learned from his mistakes, since this is his third failed prediction about the end of the world. My friend had seen him interviewed a couple of days before the date he'd picked, and the interviewer had asked, "What if it doesn't happen?"
"Oh, it will happen."
"But what if it doesn't?"
"It will happen."
But what if it doesn't, what then?"
"It WILL happen!"

She said she'd remarked to her husband at the time, "Imagine having that guy in your family, and trying to get him to compromise on something." Her husband had looked over at her, and said lovingly, "You were sort of like that, before Al-Anon."  She'd threatened him with a small pillow, and been about to make some smartass response, but stopping to think about it, she had to admit  - it was true. She'd always been predicting some dire outcome to her husband's drinking, in an effort to control him. Not only that, but she had the same stubbornness of thinking that the elderly gentleman had seemed to demonstrate.

We had the giggles by this time, but she got me thinking, and ... I was sort of like that, myself. I had decided opinions, was very rigid in my thinking, and when I wasn't regretting the past, I was looking to the future. The present was just something to "get through" as best I could. I was unable to allow for other people's ideas or points of view, I was controlling, I was always looking outside myself for happiness.

I was more concerned for my pride than for my spirit.

In Al-Anon, I have learned to accept that one certainty in my life, however long it may be, is that I'm going to make mistakes. I'm so grateful to this program for having taught me to find the humour in that fact: to be able to have a way of viewing it, which allows for have laughing fits with my program friends and my sponsor, when we discuss my human frailties.

My pride no longer trips me up, because it no longer matters what other people think of me. What matters is what I think of me. As long as I am honestly working my program, I can feel serenity and content, and let all the rest of it go, turn it over. I can live in this moment, and that's enough.

The Pleasure of Laughter.

Last night we went to a show by Derek Edwards  - he was hysterical. I laughed so hard my face and stomach hurt by the time the show was over, and we giggled all the way home in the car. I'm still remembering bits today, and laughing. Derek writes "observational humour" -  the funny side of everyday life.


I like to laugh, and I like to make other people laugh. It can be hard for fellow Al-Anon members to imagine the person I describe myself to be before the wonders of 12-Step changed me: furious, resentful, sullen. I can have a hard time remembering that I was that person, but when I do look back, I am swept with a gratitude so powerful it brings a lump to my throat, and the sting of tears to my eyes.

I am who I am today, able to enjoy life, and spread joy in life, only because of this program of recovery and growth. I was fortunate to be sufficiently desperate when I came into Al-Anon, to be willing to work the Steps. I didn't always like it, and I was easily offended, stubborn, and a prickly sort of person, but some desire for change kept me plodding forward, towards a goal I didn't fully understand, but knew I wanted.

Most of us have had the rather strange experience as newcomers, of sitting in meetings, hearing the entire group erupt in laughter over a member's description of happenings in their life, and we've wondered, "What's funny about that?"

We begin to see the humour, when we are able to detach a bit from our own feelings. When I take myself too seriously, I'm less able to learn from my mistakes, because I'm too embarassed by them.

From the ODAT, page 164:

"I'll cultivate a knack for recognising and enjoying humorous moments."

"We Couldn't Possibly Do That For You."

I was a very angry and unhappy person when I came into Al-Anon, and when frustrated, I was not pleasant company. Yesterday, on the hunt for a replacement part, I had one of those encounters which used to set my teeth on edge, and cause my temper to rise; often, before program, I'd have been rude, and justified my rudeness by my level of frustration. Nowadays, these sorts of encounters are wonderfully funny.

I'd called a store here in town, to save myself a trip, and was assured that yes, they had that precise part for which I was looking. When I walked into the store, 4 employees, who had been leaning on the counters, fiddling with already perfect displays, etc, almost tackled each other to get to me first - I think they were bored senseless with nothing to do, and no customers to serve. The winner slid into place right in front of his co-worker, who turned away with a disgruntled look.

I presented my old broken part, and said my bit about how I'd phoned, and been told they had one in stock. He went into the stock room for a moment, then came out and announced that they didn't have one that size. Well, maybe they did have one, in the far back of the store where so-and-so works, but he didn't know.

I asked if perhaps he could go look, I'd be most grateful?

He stated firmly, "We couldn't possibly do that for you; we're  far too busy right now."

My eyebrows rose in surprise, and I couldn't help myself, I snuck a glance over to where the other 3 employees were once again lounging about, watching us with that same thousand-mile stare, of kids watching cartoons. I was still the only customer in the store.

He read the question in my raised eyebrows, and stated even more firmly, "This is just a temporary lull."

I had to bite down hard on my lower lip, in my efforts to contain the laughter trying to escape. I think he must have understood that neither statement had exactly resonated with the sound of truth, because he flushed slightly, and said again, "This is the Christmas season, and we're swamped with work, we can't go rummaging around in the back to find something we might not even have in stock!"

He turned to glare at his co-workers, who immediately leapt to attention and began rushing around, giving snappy little directives to each other, and looking extremely hardworking and busy - it was like a stage play come to life: "Small business with harried employees."

By this point, I was barely in control of myself, and think I must have looked a sight, as I fought with my facial muscles to regain control - you know the kind of wierd facial contortions we humans make when we are fighting a laughing fit - strange chewing motions, nostrils flaring, convulsive swallowing. I agreed that this was the busiest time of year for most merchants, thanked him nicely, and made it out of the store, and into my car, before the giggling fit got me.

I've been laughing about it ever since - once that poor guy had made his first silly statement, he felt he had to carry it through, no matter where that road led.

I'm grateful to Al-Anon, for having given me the ability to see these sorts of encounters with fellow human beings as Monty Python-ish, rather than annoying. If viewed as an excellent bit of silliness, they are an antidote to grey and rainy weather, stressful situations, all sorts of things. I'm delighted to have become a happy person, who can see the humour in almost everything. It's true what the Promises state; we will laugh more.

My Higher Power's Sense of Humour - chapter 2.

I think I've found the way to do these continuations-on-a-theme posts, I shall call them "chapters." When I call them "Part 2" or "Con't" I wonder if I'm not fostering confusion, since most times the previous day's post is on another topic entirely. So, Chapter 1 of "My Higher Power's Sense of Humour" can be found here.

Just let me decide that I know what is going on with another person,  and I will receive from my Higher Power, what I can only describe as an ironically humorous reminder, that I can still be stupendously mistaken in my perceptions. This will often be followed with a further pointed little nudge, with regard to what have I learned about acting upon/reacting or responding to, my assumptions, without first checking their validity.

This sequence has transpired with sufficient regularity during my time in Al-Anon, that after the first burst of laughter when I realise I've just received one of these reminders, and the moment of admiration for the neatness and economy of their construction, I've developed the habit of saying, half-laughing, still, (and much like an adolescent being reminded for the 300th time to "Pay attention, I'm trying to tell you something, here!") "Yeah, yeah, I get it, you don't have to belabor the point!"

I might attend a meeting one night, feeling rather out of sorts or grumpy, and think to myself that one person (who is unknown to me, but not to others at the meeting) isn't very friendly, and when it's his turn to share, he'll speak about how terrrifying it is for him, to meet new people: how rather than be able to make small talk, he'll tie himself in knots inside his head, imagining the dozen stupid things he's sure to blurt, causing horrendous offense and resulting intense dislike of him by the other person, so rather than say anything, he won't even make eye contact, he'll just pretend he doesn't see them.

He's then sure to go on, to describe a character defect he possesses, and a coping mechanism he's developed, which is a precise and perfect match for one of mine. I will be sitting across the table, cringing to hear myself described with such
exactitude. This happened recently - as soon as the meeting closed, and people began to mill about, I made my way over to him, to say, "Oh man, could I relate to what you said just now! I do the same thing, and I've been struggling with that for quite a while, but you know, for years, I couldn't even see that I did it!"

We then had a twenty-minute, deeply intense and personal conversation, with many howls of laughter, and a powerful connection felt on both sides. I walked out to my car after saying goodbye, smiling happily to realise, I'd just been graced with one of those reminders from my Higher Power.

Weddings

Yesterday we went to a friend's wedding, and it was a beautiful day on all fronts - a deeply touching ceremony, glorious weather, and magnificent company.

I love the hopefulness and committment of weddings.

It was one of those days that's  bursting at the seams with joyfulness and humour.

We had a great table - more than our share of quick-witted individuals, whose company is like being at a improv comedy show - you sit back and laugh until your stomach hurts, while they bounce zingers off each other so quickly, it's hard to keep up.
All sober, all done in a spirit of great affection for each other.

We've met some amazing, wonderfully spiritual people since we moved here; we feel connected and at home. It's really a great feeling.

Some days, the gratitude is so powerful, it's impossible to articulate - this was one of them. I know you know what I mean, even if I can't explain it.

Setting Aside Judgement.

From the ODAT, page 87:

"I will guard against looking for flaws in others; I will try to see what is good in them."

Given the appropriate state of mind, I am always able to find some supremely irritating aspect of my fellow human beings - this one talks too much, that one has a habit of snorting when he laughs, this one is homophobic, that one is passive-aggressive...when I'm looking, I can find any number of human frailties upon which to seize, and judge the owner accordingly.

I believe that I got started doing this, because that's what was modeled to me in childhood. That's a reason, not an excuse. There's a world of difference between the two. A reason is a "basis or cause;" an excuse is a "pretext or subterfuge." (Subterfuge, what a great word.)

When I look within to find out why I do what I do, I'm searching for the reason, and I can use that self-knowledge to more fully understand the workings of my character. When I use that knowledge to justify continuing along that same path, I'm making excuses for myself, and I will not grow.

Why is it so easy to sit in judgement of others, and so damnably difficult to have clarity about myself? Denial, shame, embarassment all play a part.

When I'm willing to ride out the shame or embarassment, invariably what I find on the other side is humour - the ability to laugh at myself and my foolish, stubborn, human frailties.

That ability to see myself with affectionate humour, is a gift of the program that I cherish.It's another glorious day here, and I'm content. May you be, also.

Mean Humour.

Mr. SponsorPants has written a post
today about a lost friend of his, which brought memories of my first husband rushing back. He too, was screamingly funny in that same cutting way, and until I joined Al-Anon, I thought him brilliantly witty. He could keep a roomful of people in hysterics for hours on end with his humour, although as the evening progressed, he became meaner and meaner. (When he went out to bars to drink, he got pounded on a lot. He'd come staggering in, broken glasses in his hand, face battered and bruised and swelling, lip split, shirt torn, and if I was foolish enough to ask what happened, the reply was always the same: "Oh, I made a joke to the wrong person.")

The longer I was in Al-Anon, the more his humour caused me to cringe in empathy with the object of his slashing wit. When I left that marriage, I promised myself that I wasn't going to sit in silence when faced with that kind of humour in future; I was going to speak up, even when doing so makes my face flame in embarassment, even when I have to force the words out. I have reached a place in my life where that sort of humour will cause me to raise one hand, palm out, and say politely, "I don't want to hear it."

Because I truly don't want to hear it. It's not funny to me anymore, it's just mean. Mean humour requires that we be willing to listen to unkindness to, or about, another person, and validate that unkindness with our laughter. I can't do it - 12 Step has thoroughly ruined that form of entertainment for me.

I understand that this sort of humour is often motivated by rage and pain, but past a certain point, that's just an excuse.

As a closing thought, I offer something my grandfather used to say:
"If they'll do it with you, they'll do it to you.

Oh, Cry Me A River!

Every now and then, usually when I'm sick, or feeling exhausted,  I'm a whiny ball of self-pity and victimhood. I've felt like that off and on today - I'm sick. (I haven't been sick in the winter very often since I quit smoking 14 years ago - so seldom, in fact, that now when I do get sick, I feel outraged - how's that for rational thinking?)

I was lying on the couch earlier today, feeling victimised by my body - how dare it do this to me, I just had food poisoning not that long ago, and now I'm sick?

I was contemplating crawling back to bed, when a show came on featuring a guy with serious physical challenges - he was amazing; cheerful, and dismissive of his physical problems, saying, "I've got a job, a wife, and a son, what have I got to complain about?"

That put my little bout with the flu into sharp perspective. I love these little whacks upside the head - they make me laugh out loud, because they are so unsubtle. Feeling sorry for myself because I'm sick? How would I like to have only one leg?

If A Thing's Worth Doing...

...it's worth doing well. That little expression was one I heard many times as a kid, and it tied in nicely with the defeatist part of my nature, which rather than be seen to do something badly, would refuse to even try. "Perfection or nothing!" was my philosophy. I had a sort of muddled idea that if I couldn't do whatever it was well, right off the bat, I was a failure.

Al-Anon was the first place I was introduced to a way of thinking which accepted failure as an indication of effort expended, and wasn't that wonderful, because having got that first distressing failure out of the way, now I was that much closer to success.

I learned to redefine success for myself, rather than accept anyone else's definition. That meant that I could do whatever it was badly, a cobbled-together hodgepodge, and define it as a good result because I'd tried, and had this to show for my efforts. Ugly it may have been to any eyes but my own, but to me, it could be a thing of beauty, if I allowed it.

Al-Anon introduced me to:
"Good enough for now."
"Perfectly satisfactory for a beginner's effort."
"Not great, but not bad."
"Excellent result, given my inexperience."
"Hey, you know, that really does (sort of) resemble a _____."

I'm grateful for all of this, because it has permitted me to try the new and the different, in a spirit of hopeful enthusiasm, with no worry or fretting for the end result - the joy is in the trying.

Gratitude List.

First on the list, is gratitude that the two lumps on our older, wiser, more dignified dog, appear to be just fatty lumps. He will be being operated upon for their removal next week. I'm grateful we can afford to get this done.

This guy is the first small dog we've had, and my spouse has a tendency to forget that at 21lbs, he can't carry the treat load that an 80-pounder can. Our vet gently admonished us that he was a little too "portly." And this is a dog that gets at least an hour of brisk exercise a day, either walking in the park, or in inclement weather, on his favourite toy - the treadmill. Imagine how portly he'd be without that, and if he were more of a couch potato, instead of the highly-charged, always-running zippy little dog that he is. He's a type-A personality.

Our little female is more of the "First, establish whether whatever it is is worth it, before waking up all the way" type.

I'm grateful for Al-Anon, and all the people over the years who have given of their experience, strength, and hope so freely, to keep this incredible fellowship strong and growing. I'm grateful for my sponsor, and my sponsees. I'm grateful when some small thing I've said has lit the way for another program member, in the same way my path has been lit by the comments and sharings I've heard. I'd still be stumbling around in the dark, cursing, were it not for this blessed, simple-and-yet-excruciatingly-demanding program of Al-Anon.

I'm grateful for all the recovery bloggers who share themselves for the rest of us, and for those who read my blog, and leave little gifts of themselves in comments - you mean a lot to me, all of you.
God bless you, keep you safe, and give you a holiday full of pleasant memories.
Happy Christmas.