Emotional Wealth.

These days, thanks to the wonders of Al-Anon, I have great emotional wealth. My dictionary defines
"wealth" as an abundance of valuable resources, and I certainly have been granted that. I have the valuable resource of program wisdom, and I have been truly blessed with an abundance of friends to walk this path with me.

I have friends with whom I keep in touch, who live in cities many miles away, but I am able to get together with them for lunch and a visit every few months. In between visits, we exchange regular emails, and I smile to see their names in my email inbox. They are a richness in my life. Some are in program, some are not, it doesn't matter, we are close, and they add greatly to my joy.

One of the unexpected blessings of this cancer journey is that I have been allowed to realise how I am loved, by the way my friends have responded, with support, encouragement, humour and anything else I've needed, whether I knew I needed it, or only they knew.

I have a sponsor with whom I can speak with utter honesty. Last week before the meeting, she hugged me and asked how I was - I wasn't doing well last week, and when she gazed at me, concern and humour and affection in her eyes, I was completely undone, and began to weep. She stood up, came to me, and held me in her arms while I wept. I felt so safe and cared for. It was exactly what I needed, and it gave me the release of tears and the comfort of her arms around me. Of such relatively small but important things are friendships forged and solidified.

We make each other laugh like crazy, and can talk about anything - what an enormous gift.

Before Al-Anon, I didn't know how to be a good friend. I used what I jokingly call "The Mafia solution" when I was angry or disappointed in someone - "You are dead to me from this moment!"
- I'd just cut them off, and never speak to them again. I couldn't deal with conflict, so I just avoided it by avoiding them.

Al-Anon has taught me how to give, and how to receive love. Never, before Robert, had I ever thought I would love a man the way I love him. And never did I think a man would love me the way he loves me.

I have great emotional wealth, and it sustains me through whatever it is that's happening. I know I have people who love me, and I know I have plenty of people I love and adore. I am a truly lucky woman.

Thanks so much to all who have written their support and encouragement on this blog, it means a lot to me, and I'm grateful that you have taken the time and effort.

Roller Coaster Ride.

Living with cancer has been likened to a roller coaster ride - peaks - a clean ct scan, and valleys - I've found some new lumps in the month I've been off chemo long enough to get the PICC line out of my arm, and a chemo port installed in my chest. I wanted this done because I'd developed a ferocious allergy to the adhesive on the plastic and gauze bandages they were using on the PICC line, and the itch was driving me to distraction.

But the result of no chemo for a month is the new lumps. All I can hope is that once chemo starts up again tomorrow, they will be shrunk back into nothingness. I'm feeling anxious and frightened, and have had to ask my Higher Power to take my fear and anxiety, and grant me serenity. Against my initial feelings, I've shared the news with close friends in program, and shared my fear. I have received such love, caring and support, it brings tears to my eyes to know that I am loved.

I spent all of my life before Al-Anon, wanting to be loved, but being the kind of person who was so angry and resentful that I drove people away from me. I have the support system that I do now because of the person I have become as a result of this wonderful program.

I'm off to Cancer Care to see a doctor in about 45 mins, I'll keep you updated with whatever news I get.

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.

Friendship and Fabric

When I moved to this city at the end of my 17-year marriage, I became friends with a woman who is  a sewing enthusiast. Two days ago we went together to a fabric store she frequents, but with which I was unfamiliar.

What a treat that was - luscious high quality fabric of every type and pattern. Rich solids in deep dark shades, as well as light, crisp colors. Rayon, velvet, wool, cotton, and notions galore. I bought some royal blue melton wool to make myself a new winter coat. My present coat was made about 5 years ago, and is showing its age. I am grateful that I have the skill and ability to make clothes for myself. It permits me to make what I want to wear, instead of being restricted to what is available in stores.

I made a coat last year, but don't like it much, so I'm going to donate it, and make a new one.

I'm grateful that I've learned to let go. I spent many hours tailoring that coat, but the finished product doesn't satisfy me. I don't like the way the fabric handles, and I don't like the feel of it, it's too heavy, and not nearly as warm as it should be, with all the lining and underlining and block fusing I did.

I can easily and happily donate it, to a charity shop here in the city, and walk away hoping that it will prove to be a delight for someone who finds it there. It's okay that I spent time upon it, but it didn't turn out the way I'd wanted. That doesn't matter to me anymore. I see that, accept it, and move on.

I can do this because of Al-Anon. Life doesn't have to go my way in order for me to feel satisfied, happy or content. I have matured in my ability and willingness to go with the current, instead of always trying to fight my way upstream. I can relax and float, admiring the scenery, enjoying the gift of the wonderful loving people my Higher Power has placed in my life.

I'm working on a painting for my brother at the moment, and when I'm in my little workroom slopping paint onto the canvas ( I find my paintings are much better when I work quickly, with not too much time allowed for picky little brushstrokes) I am filled with joy. Just as I was bursting with delight at the fabric store with my friend, or when my sponsor came over for a hug before last night's meeting. What a comforting feeling that was, to get a big warm hug from someone I love, admire, and who will give my tail a yank, when I'm wandering off the path.

I was walking out to my car last night when a newcomer from the meeting approached me to ask if she could have my number for twelve-step calls. I gave it gladly. I'm grateful to have something to share, which may be of some help to a new member of our incredible program.

The sun is glorious today, and I'm feeling good. I see the oncologist on the 8th, to find out if I will be given another 12 rounds of chemo, or if they are taking a "watch, test, and wait" approach. Either way, no matter how this goes, I'll be all right. I know that now. I'm at peace.

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.

Speaking At A Meeting.

Last night, after the meeting, I was standing with my sponsor, and a woman who I hadn't seen before came up to say to me, "You could be a stand-up comedienne." She smiled at me, and walked away. I turned to my sponsor and asked, "Why would she say that to me, I didn't say anything funny tonight, did I?"

My sponsor said a few things about my delivery, and honesty, and left me feeling somewhat more understanding of what that had been about, but not much. I don't plan what I'm going to say, I just open my mouth, and start speaking about the topic, and allow my Higher Power to direct the flow. Most times, if you were to ask me afterwards what I'd said, I couldn't tell you.

It's like writing a blog post here - I may have a slight idea of what I'd like to get across in my writing, but once I've begun, it goes where it will, and I follow. When I was new in Al-Anon, I felt very anxious about speaking at a meeting, and it seemed of paramount importance that I get it "right." I judged myself so harshly, that it was a small jump in thought, to assume that everyone listening was doing the same - judging.

I've learned that what other people are thinking of me is none of my business. My job is to clean my side of the street, keep it neat and tidy through practising the Steps and Traditions, and whatever other people get from my shares is not up to me. This allows me to not worry if the newcomer is hearing what they need to hear - they have their own Higher Power, and things will work out for them with my only input being my sharing at meetings.

I've often begun speaking, thinking I was about to talk about one thing, and found myself a mile down a side road, talking about something else entirely, which somehow is closely related to the topic, but for some reason, seems to be what I need to talk about that night. There have been many times when I've surprised myself by what I've shared - I may not have realised I had that outlook, or still carried that doubt or guilt, until I hear myself saying at a meeting that this is how it is for me right now.

Today and yesterday I was worrying about the future, how long do I have to live? What will my health be like in six months? What end am I facing?

I had to stop and say to myself, "Live in the moment!" repeatedly, and force my mind into that place, as I mixed our home-made muesli in the giant tub we keep for just that purpose. Later, we went out for a nice long ramble around downtown, and to the bead store, where I bought enough findings to make myself four pairs  of earrings. I've always wanted to make my own earrings, but have never gotten around to it. Now seemed like an excellent time.

Walking and talking with Robert brought me sharply into the present - his company is such a gift and a pleasure, that I can easily revel in the moment. Tonight, I have my new step group to enjoy. Life in the now, is a glorious adventure; it's my choice as to whether or not I live there.

When I speak at a meeting, I try to allow myself to be a conduit for my Higher Power; I do my best to keep my ego in the back seat, and let my HP do the steering. I am no longer overwhelmed with insecurity, and I don't give what I've got to say, nearly the level of importance I once did.  I've said most of it many times before, in the 30 years I've been in program, and I'm grateful for the chance  to listen and learn.

An Old Friend.

This week, I celebrated the milestone of 30 years in this life-saving, sanity-preserving program, by purchasing again, for probably the tenth time since I started all those years ago, the first piece of Al-Anon literature I ever read, the book entitled: "How Al-Anon Works, for Families and Friends of Alcoholics."

I've bought this book for myself many times, then lent it to one of my sponsees, or a newcomer who couldn't afford to get one for herself, and all but one time, it has never been returned. The one which did get returned, got lent out to another sponsee and it went the way of all the others. I've never minded not getting this book back, because I knew I could always get another one at any of the groups I attended, and because I was hoping that it could give to the reader some of the enormous comfort and calm that it gave to me when I was so new.

I love this book. I've read it dozens of times from cover to cover. I've read it in small sips of a few pages at a time, and I've read it like a novel, starting at the beginning, and continuing right to the last page. Either way, each time I read it, I find something new that had eluded me.

I'll never forget an old-timer at an Al-Anon meeting reading a page from the book aloud, and stopping partway through to exclaim, "I've read this 20 times, when did they put that paragraph in?"

That's one of the wonders of this program, and of Al-Anon literature - I hear what I need to hear when I am ready to hear it, and not before. When I'm ready, the wisdom washes over me in a wave of astonishment - I had never thought of it that way!
(whatever "it" is at the time.) 

With that new thought, my perception and my attitude shift: sometimes a few feet, sometimes only a millimetre or so, but there is movement, and with it, the world is new again, and possibilities appear that until now, were hidden in the shadows of my confusion.

I recommend this book to anyone who is struggling with the awful agony of trying to live in peace with another person's addictions without being swamped and swallowed up.  I also recommend it to those of us who have reached a peaceful place in our lives, and are dealing with other challenges in our lives. It's a great read, and it helps.

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.

A Better Attitude.

Sorry no posts for so long, I was reeling from the news about the cancer having returned. But now, a couple of weeks further on, my mood has settled more into acceptance and gratitude for all of the love in my life: friends, family, and my wonderful Robert.

One of the women in a group I attend weekly, came up to me before the last meeting, gave me her phone number and address, told me that she had been through one aspect of the surgery I'm facing, and would happily be there for me as support and encouragement. I called her a few days later, and she was encouraging and helpful. Her surgery was due to other reasons, not cancer, but it was the same sort of thing, and she is willing to come to my place and help me when I'm newly home from hospital, and to be a support by phone at any time. I'm supposed to call her this weekend, and go over to her place for tea and some more talking.

I felt far less frightened after speaking with her; she helped me to feel that I can get through the surgery and recover, although it's life-changing and invasive. I have no choice, if I want to live for any time at all, I have to get it done.

Tomorrow I go for a CT scan in the morning, in an effort to see if the cancer has metastasized to my other organs. If it has, I will be lucky to live for another couple of years, if it has not, who knows?

My brother is flying out from New York on the 2nd, and going home on the 4th. We were estranged for many years, and haven't seen each other for almost 30 years, so I am giddily excited at the idea of having even that short space of time to visit with him.

When I live in the moment, life is good.

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.

"...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. 

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.

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. 

Happiness Is An Inside Job - I Give It To Myself.

A reader asked: "How do I find gratitude, when I don't feel any?"

I'd bring this back to the basics of life - is there food in your fridge? Do you have a roof over your head, a bed with enough blankets, or a comforter, to keep you warm and safe as you sleep? Do you have untainted water to drink?   Start there. Start as far back as required in the basic needs of life, and push gratitude.

By "push" I mean, remind yourself. Don't listen to the nattering, tv-fed mind, which never stops insisting  that if only you had the latest app, your life would be a different thing entirely. That's not reality, it's advertising.

Reality is that feeling in your chest, when you look into the eyes of another Al-Anon member and what you see is loving acceptance of the same person with whom you've completely lost patience - you.

Al-Anon Family Groups

One wonderful aspect of living in this city is the number of Al-Anon meetings available - at least one every day, and sometimes two - this makes for a great framework of support for someone like myself who has recently moved here, and has few connections. When I walk into a meeting, sit down in a chair and smile at the other people in the room, it doesn't matter that I don't know their names or life stories; what I do know is that they have been affected by someone else's alcoholism.

I know they have suffered in the same ways I have, in their struggles to deal with that "cunning, baffling and powerful" disease: had the same feelings of intense frustration and despair: most likely made some of the same crazy  misguided choices, in their efforts both to understand and to change the alcoholic. (I've come to see that when it comes to alcoholism and our efforts to have some effect upon it, we are all barking mad, it's just that some are barking more loudly than others.)

I know that I can learn from those whom I've met for the first time two weeks ago - we don't have to be close friends in order for me to gain insight from their willingness to share and to offer their experience, strength and hope. All that's required from me is an open mind, and that I pay attention when people are sharing. An open mind means that even if I've attended a meeting for the first time and not liked it as much as some of the others,  I continue to go back, because that "not liking" may have had more to do with my state of mind, expectations, or physical comfort than anything to do with the people in the group, or the way the meeting is run.  I had yet another example of this last night, when I went for the second time to a specific meeting, although I'd felt rather depressed after the meeting last week. I've learned that my situation can sharply affect my perceptions, and my situation is that I've recently left a long-term marriage, with all of the stresses that includes.

I'm grateful for all who take the time to attend meetings and give back what was given to them when they were new. My first sponsor used to say this to me whenever I'd suggest that I didn't feel like going to my home group meeting because I was tired, or busy, or distracted, or lazy - she'd give me that steely look, and ask what would have become of me, if everyone in the group in the very first meeting I'd attended, had decided to stay home and watch tv? I quailed before that prospect, and went to my meeting.

Keeping Busy Through Difficult Times.

During this period of my grieving for my friend who is terminally ill, I've been receiving easily twice as many calls for help from sponsees, and other people in program wanting some of my time to "reason things out with someone else."  Seems as though I barely finish with one before another is calling or emailing. Ordinarily, I might feel overwhelmed, but not now - now I'm intensely grateful to be taken out of myself and my feelings, to focus upon helping another person. Perhaps my HP is giving me this comfort of feeling helpful or useful to balance the helpless inadequacy I feel in the face of my friend's suffering.

Every time a sponsee arrives at my door for their weekly time with me, I feel blessed to be given this comfort of their company, getting into an intense discussion about them, and what's going on in their life, sharing moments of abandoned laughter about how nutty we co-dependents can be.

When your sponsor tells you that he or she gets more out of your relationship than you can imagine, believe them, believe when they say that your work together is a gift for them.

Strive To Be Always More Loving.

One aspect of sponsorship which I found rather disconcerting when I began to sponsor people in Al-Anon, was that I always seemed to be asked by people who had the same character defects I do (his hasn't changed) so I would receive a perfect reflection back to me, of my own rationalisations, justifications, twisted reasonings, and motives. It's what makes me of any help to my sponsees in some areas, the fact that I know pretty much exactly how their thinking on something goes, and as a result am able to discuss it with shared understanding.

What I hadn't expected is that though this process, because I have no judgement of my sponsees for what they think, say and do, I have become considerably more accepting of myself for what I think, say and do. I don't leap to berate myself quite so quickly, or if that habitual response does arise, I can respond to it the way I do with the wonderful people with whom I work in program - by suggesting that blame of self be laid aside - reach for self-acceptance first, then let's just root around in here, and see what we find.

I strive to be always more loving to those around me, the ones I know and the ones I don't. I don't always manage this, not by a long shot, but when I do, the feeling of peace and serenity is as beautiful as sunshine.

My little dog has had 3 improved days in a row, and her perky goofy personality is rising to the fore again. I like that silliness in dogs, a friend says it's God's way of making sure we laugh every day, those of us fortunate enough to share our lives with dogbrain.

Slaves To Our Emotions.

A recovery speaker likened his thoughts to "trains going through the station - do I climb on board and ride that sucker for hours, days, weeks? Or do I just watch it go through the station?"

Great analogy. I thought, pre-Al-Anon, that I had to ride every train going through the station, I didn't realise, (or when told, believe at first)  that I could just watch them go by. I also didn't know, as I do now, that I could change stations if I worked my program diligently and with sincerity, rather than only giving it lip service when I was in a pleasant frame of mind, and disposing of it as soon as my mood changed.

I was a "slave to my emotions," and due to my immaturity, my emotions were in a continual state of change, rising and falling at the smallest of successes and difficulties. Drama and crisis were mainstays, and I couldn't self-soothe.

So, back to the train station of our minds - we can stand back from the platform's edge, and watch the trains come in - where's this one going?  High-speed train to anger and frustration, no stops along the way; think I'll wait for a later one. Here comes a poky old steam train going to serenity and peace, with many stops to allow others to board, takes a scenic route - this train I'm going to ride.