Dear Readers......
It is with great love and sadness that we tell you that Cheryl passed away last Wednesday, April 22nd on a sunny evening with her beloved Robert at her side.
My name is Cathie A. and I am the sponsor of the blogger, Cheryl H. I am here in Cheryl's home with Robert and we both feel Cheryl's presence as we have hacked into her blog (she would love us being naughty).
As I'm sure readers of Cheryl's blog know...she was a wise and witty woman with 29+ years in the program of Al-Anon. She was also a very talented writer, gardener, painter, stained glass artist, seamstress (really...who sews their own jeans?), hysterically funny, dear friend, sister and much loved spouse. Her talents, her humility and her ability to laugh at herself were inspiring.
Robert was telling me this morning of the joy of them both falling into fits of laughter after noticing an oversized jar of Nutella while grocery shopping. One of my favourite personal memories was of visiting Cheryl in hospital with another Al-Anon friend after her last surgery ... the three of us exchanging stories of our own pre-recovery insanity and laughing so hard that Cheryl had to ask the nurse for pain relief after we left. Such is the stuff of a simple life well-lived.
Cheryl spoke often of the gifts that working the Al-Anon program had given her. Her ability to use her program in dealing with life's challenges (yes, even the REALLY big ones) was amazing and an inspiration to many (I put myself at the top of that list).
Thank you for allowing me to share my memories of my dear friend Cheryl. If you wish to share your thoughts and feelings here......please do.....Robert would love to hear from you.
Love in Al-Anon, Cathie A.
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joy. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Friday, January 30, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, December 25, 2014
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Levels of Faith.
One of Robert's favourite jokes is a line from standup comedy, which he heard many years ago:
"I'm more the paranoid agnostic type - I don't believe in God per se, but I do believe there's some force out there in the universe, working against me."
I love that. I can relate to that. I was an unbeliever in anything positive, and a strong believer that the world was out to get me, when I was new to Al-Anon. It seemed as though no matter what ideas I came up with, or how hard I tried, I was unsuccessful.
I'm referring, of course, to trying to make the alcoholic stop drinking. I remember going for walks with my dog - I would stomp off, after an encounter with a sodden husband who was enraged and ranting, and I'd go to sit in the park near our house, while my dog ranged all over the park seeking out whatever it is that dogs look for, in the dark.
I'd sit on the swings and fume. I recall asking aloud, "What do you want from me?" I didn't know of whom I was asking that question, it would just burst out of me in moments of intense frustration, and there is no frustration quite so intense, or so doomed to failure for those of us who are control freaks, as trying to make an alcoholic quit drinking.
My first sponsor asked me, "Who are you talking to, when you ask that question?" I was taken aback, and had to sit and think for some time, before answering haltingly that I thought maybe I was talking to God.
She smiled at me, saying "But you call yourself an aetheist."
I replied, "Well, I've thought I am, but...."
She smiled again, that irritating sponsor smile that lets you know that she's been through all this once at least, and probably more times than she could count. I was very God-shy when new to Al-Anon, and all those mentions of God, or a Higher Power, were almost more than I could stomach.
Where was the handout with the list of ten ways to make the drinker stop drinking? That's what I'd been expecting; I was completely unprepared for a total change of life.
But I kept going to meetings, and working the program, even when I wasn't sure what I believed. I just knew that my sponsor and other old-timers for whom I felt respect believed, so I decided to coast on top of their belief for a while, and see what happened.
And I kept having conversations with my Higher Power, although nowadays I'd call them complaining sessions or rants more than conversation. I was too emotional to have many rational conversations, whether with people or my HP.
My belief in a Higher Power has grown and ebbed throughout the years. I feel conscious contact when I am grateful and seeking humility.
I lose that feeling of conscious contact when I'm full of fear and anxiety, as I was shortly after being told by the surgeon that I was terminal. It's been a real mind-shift to accept that he was mistaken, I'm not terminal, and who knows how long I've got on this earth; it could be years yet.
My oncologist is very positive, and so am I. This last chemo, the volunteer came to take us in and asked how I was feeling. I replied honestly that I'm good, I feel good, and I feel happy. He passed his hand over his eyes and said, "I must still be sleeping."
It didn't register at the time, but he was commenting upon my ability to feel joy even as I walked towards the chair for another chemo treatment.
I give all the credit for this to Al-Anon, and the support and love of my beloved Robert, my family and program friends, and my HP. Life is good. I'm so grateful to be able to know that.
"I'm more the paranoid agnostic type - I don't believe in God per se, but I do believe there's some force out there in the universe, working against me."
I love that. I can relate to that. I was an unbeliever in anything positive, and a strong believer that the world was out to get me, when I was new to Al-Anon. It seemed as though no matter what ideas I came up with, or how hard I tried, I was unsuccessful.
I'm referring, of course, to trying to make the alcoholic stop drinking. I remember going for walks with my dog - I would stomp off, after an encounter with a sodden husband who was enraged and ranting, and I'd go to sit in the park near our house, while my dog ranged all over the park seeking out whatever it is that dogs look for, in the dark.
I'd sit on the swings and fume. I recall asking aloud, "What do you want from me?" I didn't know of whom I was asking that question, it would just burst out of me in moments of intense frustration, and there is no frustration quite so intense, or so doomed to failure for those of us who are control freaks, as trying to make an alcoholic quit drinking.
My first sponsor asked me, "Who are you talking to, when you ask that question?" I was taken aback, and had to sit and think for some time, before answering haltingly that I thought maybe I was talking to God.
She smiled at me, saying "But you call yourself an aetheist."
I replied, "Well, I've thought I am, but...."
She smiled again, that irritating sponsor smile that lets you know that she's been through all this once at least, and probably more times than she could count. I was very God-shy when new to Al-Anon, and all those mentions of God, or a Higher Power, were almost more than I could stomach.
Where was the handout with the list of ten ways to make the drinker stop drinking? That's what I'd been expecting; I was completely unprepared for a total change of life.
But I kept going to meetings, and working the program, even when I wasn't sure what I believed. I just knew that my sponsor and other old-timers for whom I felt respect believed, so I decided to coast on top of their belief for a while, and see what happened.
And I kept having conversations with my Higher Power, although nowadays I'd call them complaining sessions or rants more than conversation. I was too emotional to have many rational conversations, whether with people or my HP.
My belief in a Higher Power has grown and ebbed throughout the years. I feel conscious contact when I am grateful and seeking humility.
I lose that feeling of conscious contact when I'm full of fear and anxiety, as I was shortly after being told by the surgeon that I was terminal. It's been a real mind-shift to accept that he was mistaken, I'm not terminal, and who knows how long I've got on this earth; it could be years yet.
My oncologist is very positive, and so am I. This last chemo, the volunteer came to take us in and asked how I was feeling. I replied honestly that I'm good, I feel good, and I feel happy. He passed his hand over his eyes and said, "I must still be sleeping."
It didn't register at the time, but he was commenting upon my ability to feel joy even as I walked towards the chair for another chemo treatment.
I give all the credit for this to Al-Anon, and the support and love of my beloved Robert, my family and program friends, and my HP. Life is good. I'm so grateful to be able to know that.
Friday, August 22, 2014
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.
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.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Humour and Gratitude
I'm hoping I can get in to see my doctor today to get the results of my biopsy. I'm feeling calm and relaxed this morning; I had a good sleep. Al-Anon has been a blessing to me; when I'm willing to do my part, it works during even the most stressful times in life. This is out of my control - I have a choice as to whether or not I spend my time chewing over the possibilities, or whether I let go, and decide to enjoy myself regardless.
Time spent with my partner yesterday was a peaceful and fulfilling part of my day - his love is a joy, and he makes me laugh. At dinner yesterday, after I'd been talking about some airheaded thing I'd done, he leaned towards me, straightfaced and serious, and asked, "Now that we're a team, do you think we could share the brain cell?"
I howled with delight. He grinned at me, and I was washed with a wave of gratitude for his presence in my life. I've been looking for a man like this all my adult life. He's gentle and kind, with a strength of character developed through his own sufferings; he's also wickedly funny, thoughtful, insightful and hugely supportive.
One of my adoptive parents was British, and she used the phrase "rub along together" to describe a state of contented enjoyment of each other's company - my partner and I rub along together very well. I've never felt the desire to get away by myself, that I felt with each of the two alcoholics who were my earlier long-term relationships - this man is the best companion a woman could wish for, and I find him enormously attractive. We each have our own pursuits, and when we get together again afterwards, I feel gratitude and delight in his company; he's fun. He's also a mad gardener, and has increased my stock of house plants exponentially.
I'd rather concentrate on those parts of my life which bring me joy and peace, than fulminate in a closed loop upon that which is beyond my power to control. I've done so much of that kind of obsessing in my life, and it's a terrible way to pass the time, because it's futile, and it winds me up from a beginning state of mildly upset, to a state of frantic frustration and overwhelming compulsion - I don't want to live like that ever again.
It works if we work it. I'll keep you posted.
Time spent with my partner yesterday was a peaceful and fulfilling part of my day - his love is a joy, and he makes me laugh. At dinner yesterday, after I'd been talking about some airheaded thing I'd done, he leaned towards me, straightfaced and serious, and asked, "Now that we're a team, do you think we could share the brain cell?"
I howled with delight. He grinned at me, and I was washed with a wave of gratitude for his presence in my life. I've been looking for a man like this all my adult life. He's gentle and kind, with a strength of character developed through his own sufferings; he's also wickedly funny, thoughtful, insightful and hugely supportive.
One of my adoptive parents was British, and she used the phrase "rub along together" to describe a state of contented enjoyment of each other's company - my partner and I rub along together very well. I've never felt the desire to get away by myself, that I felt with each of the two alcoholics who were my earlier long-term relationships - this man is the best companion a woman could wish for, and I find him enormously attractive. We each have our own pursuits, and when we get together again afterwards, I feel gratitude and delight in his company; he's fun. He's also a mad gardener, and has increased my stock of house plants exponentially.
I'd rather concentrate on those parts of my life which bring me joy and peace, than fulminate in a closed loop upon that which is beyond my power to control. I've done so much of that kind of obsessing in my life, and it's a terrible way to pass the time, because it's futile, and it winds me up from a beginning state of mildly upset, to a state of frantic frustration and overwhelming compulsion - I don't want to live like that ever again.
It works if we work it. I'll keep you posted.
Friday, May 17, 2013
A Year Later.
My dear friend died last year on May 17th, today. I woke up this morning remembering, and wept for the loss of him. Seems like every song I put on reminds me of some aspect of his character. He was wonderfully confident and caring and the people in his life flourished in the light of that attentiveness and focused attention, just as his garden flourished from the care he lavished upon it. Rarely have I met anyone so universally adored, he made friends anywhere he went, and the warmth of his nature was unjudgemental, he was just one of those amazingly loving people you find once or twice in a lifetime, if you are very fortunate.
I thank my Higher Power for the trip my friend and I took across to the big city on the mainland, because that was the last time before he went into hospital, and never came out.
I remember his humour, never biting or unkind, but screamingly funny all the same, he had a turn of phrase that could render his listeners helpless with laughter. He was generous with his possessions, his time and his love, and I miss him.
I thank my Higher Power for the trip my friend and I took across to the big city on the mainland, because that was the last time before he went into hospital, and never came out.
I remember his humour, never biting or unkind, but screamingly funny all the same, he had a turn of phrase that could render his listeners helpless with laughter. He was generous with his possessions, his time and his love, and I miss him.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
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.
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.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
How Has My Thinking Changed In Al-Anon?
Yesterday, before returning a phone call to someone in need, I asked for help from my Higher Power, closing my eyes for a moment, and saying quietly, "Please make me worthy of this person's trust." And then, in one of those wierd little detached-from-self moments, heard what I was saying, and was for a moment, astounded at the ways this program has changed me.
And then, as is the way of these things, this topic came up in the coffee meeting-after-the-meeting last night - the ways those of us in Al-Anon for many years have changed so dramatically from the person we were when we walked through the door of our first Al-Anon meeting.
Al-Anon may be presented to us at the start as a way to become healthy whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not, but it will also, if we truly take it up and work it, bring about massive changes in our personalities. I was a woman distant from others, carefully locked away in my shame and my secrets. trusting no-one and nothing, with no hope for the future. I was unremittingly negative in my worldview - resentful, frustrated, anxious.
I still get those times, but the difference is that they are periods in my life, now, not my life. I may be feeling like that for an hour or two, or even a day or two when I do some backsliding and don't work my program or forget the wisdom I've been offered, but that is not the essence of me anymore.
Peace has become more important to me than getting my own way in all things. I might be talking to someone, and hear one part of my mind insisting upon being right - perhaps I feel that little rush of irritation I've learned to recognise as a road sign to my character defects. A sign that reads, "Don't go this way, or you'll regret it!"
When I get those messages from myself, I can do the mental equivalent of pushing the complaining insisting part of myself into another room, and gently closing the door, so that my better self can respond with love, respect, and encouragement.
Al-Anon brings out the best in us. Together, we are a powerful force for personal change. Last night, as we stood to say the Serenity Prayer at the close of the meeting, I got a shivery rush up my spine with the combined power of all our voices asking for acceptance, courage, and wisdom.
And then, as is the way of these things, this topic came up in the coffee meeting-after-the-meeting last night - the ways those of us in Al-Anon for many years have changed so dramatically from the person we were when we walked through the door of our first Al-Anon meeting.
Al-Anon may be presented to us at the start as a way to become healthy whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not, but it will also, if we truly take it up and work it, bring about massive changes in our personalities. I was a woman distant from others, carefully locked away in my shame and my secrets. trusting no-one and nothing, with no hope for the future. I was unremittingly negative in my worldview - resentful, frustrated, anxious.
I still get those times, but the difference is that they are periods in my life, now, not my life. I may be feeling like that for an hour or two, or even a day or two when I do some backsliding and don't work my program or forget the wisdom I've been offered, but that is not the essence of me anymore.
Peace has become more important to me than getting my own way in all things. I might be talking to someone, and hear one part of my mind insisting upon being right - perhaps I feel that little rush of irritation I've learned to recognise as a road sign to my character defects. A sign that reads, "Don't go this way, or you'll regret it!"
When I get those messages from myself, I can do the mental equivalent of pushing the complaining insisting part of myself into another room, and gently closing the door, so that my better self can respond with love, respect, and encouragement.
Al-Anon brings out the best in us. Together, we are a powerful force for personal change. Last night, as we stood to say the Serenity Prayer at the close of the meeting, I got a shivery rush up my spine with the combined power of all our voices asking for acceptance, courage, and wisdom.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Common Denominators - Judgement, and Joy.
This morning I was thinking that for many of us, if we do not work against it, our character tends to solidify and become more rigid the older we get. Left unchallenged, our basic beliefs will harden like cement curing, setting into an impermeable foundation for our character defects.
Had I not been bailing against the tide for the last 26 years, I would be a very different woman today.
So much of my old judgement of other people was an effort to protect my insecure self - I kept people at a safe distance by judging, classifying, rating, labelling...it was an exhaustive and time-consuming business, but it felt necessary.
When I was new to program, and began to slowly grasp the concept that it wasn't the world that was so cold to me, it was I who was cold to the world, and the world responded in kind, it felt like a formidable challenge to try to wrest my thinking around to that viewpoint. I didn't like the view from that particular outcropping, it made my self-pity an unwieldy and sharp-edged garment to don, rather than the soft comforting blanket it had always been for me.
Judgement, I thought, kept me safe. What it did, was keep me isolated. And when we're isolated, we don't get the necessary input to effect a change in our thinking; it becomes ever stronger, self-reinforcing.
I still have times when my internal dialogue is less than loving, and I most likely always will as long as I'm upon this earth. Al-Anon has taught me to be aware of that internal dialogue, and when I can't get up out of that rut, to seek help, whether that's to call my sponsor or a program friend, read some literature, or pray. I've evolved a little shorthand phrase for those times: "No judgement - God's love."
That little sentence blocks the negativity, and reminds me that I'm seeking to become more loving, and to have that loving be a pure and unconditional sort - no strings attached, no qualifications, no requirements. Love for the sake of love. Which brings me to the other topic - joy.
I believe that within each of us is a powerful expansive joyfulness, and we can tap into that joy through working 12-Step. You can see it in the faces of those who've realised that joy is an inner resource, not the result of the perfect exterior happening. It makes daily life a very different thing when we get there, because we become the spiritual equivalent of a self-righting boat. We aren't immune to the storms of life, and we may be swept under the surface by a wave of circumstance, but that inner buoyancy brings us back to the surface, and the "sunlight of the spirit."
Happy New Year, all.
Had I not been bailing against the tide for the last 26 years, I would be a very different woman today.
So much of my old judgement of other people was an effort to protect my insecure self - I kept people at a safe distance by judging, classifying, rating, labelling...it was an exhaustive and time-consuming business, but it felt necessary.
When I was new to program, and began to slowly grasp the concept that it wasn't the world that was so cold to me, it was I who was cold to the world, and the world responded in kind, it felt like a formidable challenge to try to wrest my thinking around to that viewpoint. I didn't like the view from that particular outcropping, it made my self-pity an unwieldy and sharp-edged garment to don, rather than the soft comforting blanket it had always been for me.
Judgement, I thought, kept me safe. What it did, was keep me isolated. And when we're isolated, we don't get the necessary input to effect a change in our thinking; it becomes ever stronger, self-reinforcing.
I still have times when my internal dialogue is less than loving, and I most likely always will as long as I'm upon this earth. Al-Anon has taught me to be aware of that internal dialogue, and when I can't get up out of that rut, to seek help, whether that's to call my sponsor or a program friend, read some literature, or pray. I've evolved a little shorthand phrase for those times: "No judgement - God's love."
That little sentence blocks the negativity, and reminds me that I'm seeking to become more loving, and to have that loving be a pure and unconditional sort - no strings attached, no qualifications, no requirements. Love for the sake of love. Which brings me to the other topic - joy.
I believe that within each of us is a powerful expansive joyfulness, and we can tap into that joy through working 12-Step. You can see it in the faces of those who've realised that joy is an inner resource, not the result of the perfect exterior happening. It makes daily life a very different thing when we get there, because we become the spiritual equivalent of a self-righting boat. We aren't immune to the storms of life, and we may be swept under the surface by a wave of circumstance, but that inner buoyancy brings us back to the surface, and the "sunlight of the spirit."
Happy New Year, all.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Celebrations
Last night we attended a celebration at the local John Howard Society's treatment and recovery house for men. One of my husband's sponsees is going through the program there, and he'd invited us to join him as his "family" because his birth family lives far away. This man has been in and out of treatment many times, and as the saying goes, "around AA" for a lot of years, but this time, something has changed. We had a few moments quiet conversation amidst the noise of happy chatter and laughter, when my husband went to speak to another friend. I could sense the difference in this man; his restlessness has gone, and so has the sarcastic and critical facade - he's found serenity.
Later, we all gathered in the main room and sat in peaceful communion, while the men in the house stood up one by one, and spoke of what it meant for them to be in recovery, to be clean and sober at this time of year, to have their family there to celebrate with them. Many had to stop and swallow several times to regain their ability to speak, because their gratitude brought such a powerful wave of emotion. (I'm hopelessly emotional in these gatherings, and used to try to be circumspect about wiping the tears from my eyes - I gave that up years ago. I know I'm going to weep throughout, and I accept that as just the way it is.)
When my husband's sponsee stood up to speak, I glanced at my husband beside me - his eyes, too, were full of tears. He loves this man the way he loves them all, wholeheartedly, with no judgement or reservation, through their disbelief, their anger, their frustration and despair - no matter what is going on for them. He's a rock of calm to which they can cling, he makes them laugh, and because he is an alcoholic himself, he heads them off at every attempt to justify or rationalise.
One sponsee came up to me last night and said laughingly that he finally had to start working the program because my husband was the first guy in AA he'd ever met who was just that tiny bit more stubborn than he was himself. He said to me, "He wore me down!" I hugged him and replied, "Oh bullshit, _____, you wore yourself down, he just kept you company while you had at it."
He grinned at me, and said, "I forgot - you've been in Al-Anon since I was 10."
I love these 12-Step celebrations; for days afterwards, I find myself remembering, and smiling.
Later, we all gathered in the main room and sat in peaceful communion, while the men in the house stood up one by one, and spoke of what it meant for them to be in recovery, to be clean and sober at this time of year, to have their family there to celebrate with them. Many had to stop and swallow several times to regain their ability to speak, because their gratitude brought such a powerful wave of emotion. (I'm hopelessly emotional in these gatherings, and used to try to be circumspect about wiping the tears from my eyes - I gave that up years ago. I know I'm going to weep throughout, and I accept that as just the way it is.)
When my husband's sponsee stood up to speak, I glanced at my husband beside me - his eyes, too, were full of tears. He loves this man the way he loves them all, wholeheartedly, with no judgement or reservation, through their disbelief, their anger, their frustration and despair - no matter what is going on for them. He's a rock of calm to which they can cling, he makes them laugh, and because he is an alcoholic himself, he heads them off at every attempt to justify or rationalise.
One sponsee came up to me last night and said laughingly that he finally had to start working the program because my husband was the first guy in AA he'd ever met who was just that tiny bit more stubborn than he was himself. He said to me, "He wore me down!" I hugged him and replied, "Oh bullshit, _____, you wore yourself down, he just kept you company while you had at it."
He grinned at me, and said, "I forgot - you've been in Al-Anon since I was 10."
I love these 12-Step celebrations; for days afterwards, I find myself remembering, and smiling.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Question.
"Can you give some concrete examples of how you've changed, since being in Al-Anon?"
Here's two from yesterday:
I went for lunch with a friend, to a small coffee shop near here. I ordered decaf, a chicken salad sandwich, and a cup of soup. The soup was barely warm, the coffee didn't come until I'd almost finished eating, and I received an egg salad sandwich instead of chicken salad, and you know what? None of it mattered. It was interesting to notice these things, but I had zero emotional response to them, it was more along the lines of "Look at that, egg instead of chicken - lots of mayonnaise, just the way I like it. This soup is delicious, could be warmer, but tastes marvellous. I'm so grateful to have Mary as my friend, she's a treasure. Oh, here's my coffee, that looks nice and hot. Our waitress has a lovely smile and she's so friendly, I like that in a restaurant."
Before Al-Anon, each of those insignificant things would have annoyed me no end. I'd have complained nonstop to my friend, who wouldn't have been able to enjoy her own lunch for my nattering, and I'd have made us both unhappy with my ranting. Before Al-Anon, if one thing wasn't exactly how I wanted it, everything was ruined. I'd have taken those mistakes personally, and I'd have seen them as just another indication of how lousy my life was, how things never worked out for me, yada yada yada.
I was a chronic complainer, and now I'm not. When I was first learning how, I had to make a conscious effort to be grateful: now it comes naturally.
Later, I was out delivering flyers for the business on the beautiful fall afternoon, and as I started up one driveway, a very large dog came rushing out of the open garage, walking with his tail straight up, slightly stiff-legged, and growling a warning. I decide to respect his request to remove myself from his property, and turned to tuck the flyer into the lattice on the front gate. I felt a warm bump on my thigh, and looked down to see him doing that silly little dance dogs all seem to do when they want attention, tail wagging furiously, and quite delighted with himself. I pulled the flyer from the gate, and as I walked up the drive with him, we had a nice little love-in, consisting of him giving me gentle nudges with his muzzle, and then wiggling happily as I stroked his head. As I left him, I told him to "Stay" and he did. I walked down the driveway feeling grateful for all the dogs I've known and loved, and all the ones I've only met in passing, but still enjoyed.
That got me thinking. about the way that many of my greatest life lessons have arrived looking the way that dog did - a little intimidating. When I've heard, respected and accepted the message, instead of fighting or struggling against it, those lessons have moved me forward in great leaps of understanding. With the understanding, has come a greater sense of peace and serenity.
I used to try to control everything, and now I don't. When the dog comes rushing out to say, "This is MY driveway!" I don't try to cut past him on the grass, I raise a hand in surrender, and say, "Your driveway, right, got it." Respect goes a long way in relationships; most of us just want to be recognised and heard, and once we are, we can relax and say, "You can come in, if you want; I'll walk with you."
Here's two from yesterday:
I went for lunch with a friend, to a small coffee shop near here. I ordered decaf, a chicken salad sandwich, and a cup of soup. The soup was barely warm, the coffee didn't come until I'd almost finished eating, and I received an egg salad sandwich instead of chicken salad, and you know what? None of it mattered. It was interesting to notice these things, but I had zero emotional response to them, it was more along the lines of "Look at that, egg instead of chicken - lots of mayonnaise, just the way I like it. This soup is delicious, could be warmer, but tastes marvellous. I'm so grateful to have Mary as my friend, she's a treasure. Oh, here's my coffee, that looks nice and hot. Our waitress has a lovely smile and she's so friendly, I like that in a restaurant."
Before Al-Anon, each of those insignificant things would have annoyed me no end. I'd have complained nonstop to my friend, who wouldn't have been able to enjoy her own lunch for my nattering, and I'd have made us both unhappy with my ranting. Before Al-Anon, if one thing wasn't exactly how I wanted it, everything was ruined. I'd have taken those mistakes personally, and I'd have seen them as just another indication of how lousy my life was, how things never worked out for me, yada yada yada.
I was a chronic complainer, and now I'm not. When I was first learning how, I had to make a conscious effort to be grateful: now it comes naturally.
Later, I was out delivering flyers for the business on the beautiful fall afternoon, and as I started up one driveway, a very large dog came rushing out of the open garage, walking with his tail straight up, slightly stiff-legged, and growling a warning. I decide to respect his request to remove myself from his property, and turned to tuck the flyer into the lattice on the front gate. I felt a warm bump on my thigh, and looked down to see him doing that silly little dance dogs all seem to do when they want attention, tail wagging furiously, and quite delighted with himself. I pulled the flyer from the gate, and as I walked up the drive with him, we had a nice little love-in, consisting of him giving me gentle nudges with his muzzle, and then wiggling happily as I stroked his head. As I left him, I told him to "Stay" and he did. I walked down the driveway feeling grateful for all the dogs I've known and loved, and all the ones I've only met in passing, but still enjoyed.
That got me thinking. about the way that many of my greatest life lessons have arrived looking the way that dog did - a little intimidating. When I've heard, respected and accepted the message, instead of fighting or struggling against it, those lessons have moved me forward in great leaps of understanding. With the understanding, has come a greater sense of peace and serenity.
I used to try to control everything, and now I don't. When the dog comes rushing out to say, "This is MY driveway!" I don't try to cut past him on the grass, I raise a hand in surrender, and say, "Your driveway, right, got it." Respect goes a long way in relationships; most of us just want to be recognised and heard, and once we are, we can relax and say, "You can come in, if you want; I'll walk with you."
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Moving Makes Me Tired.
We had good friends over today, who stayed for dinner, and it was great fun, but now I'm completely exhausted, with no energy to do the unpacking and organising I'd promised myself I'd get done this weekend.
I need to let go, we haven't even been in this house a week yet, and already, I'm giving myself a hard time for not having it set up perfectly and completely - what a nutcase I am, still, in so many ways. I wouldn't expect any of my friends to have their house completely organised a week after a move, so why do I set these goals for myself?
Our friends helped us to rearrange the livingroom so that now it feels like home - neither my husband nor I are any good at that sort of thing, we just bung the furniture down along the walls, and then wonder why it resembles a waiting room. Our friends have the knack - move this, hang that here, pull the couch out so it's at an angle, put the rug in a different way, shove that chair over, move this plant, and suddenly, it all comes together and looks marvellous. It was fun, but I still don't know how they do it, no matter how many times I watch it happen; it's just magical. After the room was set up, we all sat down for dinner and some great laughing fits.
Now, the house is quiet, my husband has gone to bed, and I'm feeling contented and grateful. My Higher Power has granted me much joy, and many good people in my life. People in whose company I feel uplifted, enriched, entertained, educated. Tonight I'm full of the knowledge that I have a good life, and I'm grateful to be aware of it.
I need to let go, we haven't even been in this house a week yet, and already, I'm giving myself a hard time for not having it set up perfectly and completely - what a nutcase I am, still, in so many ways. I wouldn't expect any of my friends to have their house completely organised a week after a move, so why do I set these goals for myself?
Our friends helped us to rearrange the livingroom so that now it feels like home - neither my husband nor I are any good at that sort of thing, we just bung the furniture down along the walls, and then wonder why it resembles a waiting room. Our friends have the knack - move this, hang that here, pull the couch out so it's at an angle, put the rug in a different way, shove that chair over, move this plant, and suddenly, it all comes together and looks marvellous. It was fun, but I still don't know how they do it, no matter how many times I watch it happen; it's just magical. After the room was set up, we all sat down for dinner and some great laughing fits.
Now, the house is quiet, my husband has gone to bed, and I'm feeling contented and grateful. My Higher Power has granted me much joy, and many good people in my life. People in whose company I feel uplifted, enriched, entertained, educated. Tonight I'm full of the knowledge that I have a good life, and I'm grateful to be aware of it.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Offline For a Few Days.
I'll be back as soon as the phone hookup is complete, allegedly this will be on the 6th, but who knows?
I was just over at the new place, wandering around enjoying the sunlight pouring into the rooms, while my husband was painting the wall which the previous people had painted a rather, um... exhilarating shade of green. It's now a lovely shade of pale creamy brown - like chocolate milk.
Later, he took a break from painting, and we went out onto the deck, leaning over the railing to watch a fawn, which had come in through a loose slat on the back fence, and was wandering around looking for something good to eat. We talked a bit, and then fell into a companionable silence, enjoying the sun, and life in general.
I love this house, and the peaceful area - 3 blocks from the beach - that's how it goes, when we turn it all over to our Higher Power, and let him work it out for us.
Life is good, and I'm content. I'll be back here soon. Take care.
I was just over at the new place, wandering around enjoying the sunlight pouring into the rooms, while my husband was painting the wall which the previous people had painted a rather, um... exhilarating shade of green. It's now a lovely shade of pale creamy brown - like chocolate milk.
Later, he took a break from painting, and we went out onto the deck, leaning over the railing to watch a fawn, which had come in through a loose slat on the back fence, and was wandering around looking for something good to eat. We talked a bit, and then fell into a companionable silence, enjoying the sun, and life in general.
I love this house, and the peaceful area - 3 blocks from the beach - that's how it goes, when we turn it all over to our Higher Power, and let him work it out for us.
Life is good, and I'm content. I'll be back here soon. Take care.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Spiritual Awakening
What does this feel like? Look like? A speaker stated that they could see a new light in the eyes of those who had experienced a spiritual awakening.
For myself, and those I sponsor, I notice a change in thinking. We climb, with much effort, from the old ruts in our thinking, and once we have reached level ground, are astonished to find the perspective so altered. And then, once we've realised that our perspective can be changed in this way, we are never again able to believe the voices in our head to be the one and only voice of truth. We question our thinking on a continual basis, and the more we do this, the further we go in our understanding of how in error we can be.
I found it mind-boggling, the first time this happened to me - I spent hours with my sponsor, learning how not to berate myself for having been so blind. She was very firm on this point, told me that the desire to castigate myself was counter-productive, since if I bashed myself with sufficient force, I'd end up so miserable as a result of my new understanding, that I'd refuse to move another step, and would retreat back to the safety of my co-dependent cave of self. With her help, I began to understand the ways in which my own thinking had kept me trapped.
Each time I have been granted a new level of understanding, my joy in living has intensified, my tolerance has increased, my love for others, and myself, has grown.
I can recall, years back, when moving was a fearsome hassle, and I'd be grouchy and bad-tempered and exhausted throughout the process. Over time it has grown to be fun, becase I'm doing it with my Higher Power right beside me, and I have no fear. Yesterday I spent the day phoning around getting utilities changed; I used to hate this part of a move. Nowadays, it's just another thing task on my to-do list, and I take delight in making the customer service people laugh - really laugh, and to thank them with true gratitude for their help - when I do this, I can hear in their voices that it has registered, and feels good.
I have changed so much in my view of life, and my attitudes.This wonderful program has given me a life I would not have believed possible, and my gratitude can bring tears to my eyes, it's so overwhelming and powerful.
I pray that you will feel this love and peace of the program today.
For myself, and those I sponsor, I notice a change in thinking. We climb, with much effort, from the old ruts in our thinking, and once we have reached level ground, are astonished to find the perspective so altered. And then, once we've realised that our perspective can be changed in this way, we are never again able to believe the voices in our head to be the one and only voice of truth. We question our thinking on a continual basis, and the more we do this, the further we go in our understanding of how in error we can be.
I found it mind-boggling, the first time this happened to me - I spent hours with my sponsor, learning how not to berate myself for having been so blind. She was very firm on this point, told me that the desire to castigate myself was counter-productive, since if I bashed myself with sufficient force, I'd end up so miserable as a result of my new understanding, that I'd refuse to move another step, and would retreat back to the safety of my co-dependent cave of self. With her help, I began to understand the ways in which my own thinking had kept me trapped.
Each time I have been granted a new level of understanding, my joy in living has intensified, my tolerance has increased, my love for others, and myself, has grown.
I can recall, years back, when moving was a fearsome hassle, and I'd be grouchy and bad-tempered and exhausted throughout the process. Over time it has grown to be fun, becase I'm doing it with my Higher Power right beside me, and I have no fear. Yesterday I spent the day phoning around getting utilities changed; I used to hate this part of a move. Nowadays, it's just another thing task on my to-do list, and I take delight in making the customer service people laugh - really laugh, and to thank them with true gratitude for their help - when I do this, I can hear in their voices that it has registered, and feels good.
I have changed so much in my view of life, and my attitudes.This wonderful program has given me a life I would not have believed possible, and my gratitude can bring tears to my eyes, it's so overwhelming and powerful.
I pray that you will feel this love and peace of the program today.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Dog Love, And Love Of Dogs.
Dogs have been a comfort and a joy in my life from as far back as I can remember. In my childhood, when people frightened and hurt me, dogs were a source of love.
When I came home from school, and stepping through the door, felt the air tense with anger, and my stomach clenched in fear, for the beatings that I knew were coming, the dog was a soft and quiet presence. I would drop to my knees, and put my arms around her, holding her warmth against me, trying to gain courage with the love she gave.
When I escaped outdoors, down into the marsh behind the house of my adoptive parents, the dog was a sentry on the path ahead. I felt perfect safety, even when in the tall grasses and reeds that grew down there, all I could catch sight of, was a glimpse of waving tail held high.
My dogs have been a constant in my adult life, when the rest of my world was in chaos because of alcoholism. They've been companions, entertainers, friends, comforters.
Our little male dog, who has a tumour on his foreleg, has made me laugh like no dog before him. He was my introduction to dachshunds, and what comedians they are. When he was a tiny puppy, he was the same size as a plastic rat toy our cat loved to attack, and the same color - pure gleaming black from nose to tail tip.
When he was 5 or 6, the first grey hairs began to appear around his muzzle, and I thought that was far too early, since he had all the energy and bounce of a very young dog. The grey has slowly advanced along his nose until now he has the dog equivalent of quite a full mustache. But he still has the energy and bounce of a young dog - one vet suggested that the other dog in the mix was quite likely a terrier of some sort.
Last night, I was sitting on the bed telling my husband what the vet had said. A rush of emotion made me suddenly burst out with a wail of, "It's too soon!"
My husband said quietly, "It's always too soon with dogs."
And that is how it is, and ever will be. This is one of those "accept the things I cannot change" parts of life - dogs die long before we are ready. No matter what their age, or state of infirmity, we can't believe that it has come time to let them go.
I have tried my best to be a loving friend, and give my dogs a swift and painless death. But I realise that I expected to have our little dog for years yet, and I haven't even begun to deal with the reality of his aging. I've been in complete denial.
A program friend wrote: "I actually use my dog as an inspiration about how to live…..to try to capture her boundless capacity to live life to the fullest, each and every day."
For some of us, they will never be "just a dog."
When I came home from school, and stepping through the door, felt the air tense with anger, and my stomach clenched in fear, for the beatings that I knew were coming, the dog was a soft and quiet presence. I would drop to my knees, and put my arms around her, holding her warmth against me, trying to gain courage with the love she gave.
When I escaped outdoors, down into the marsh behind the house of my adoptive parents, the dog was a sentry on the path ahead. I felt perfect safety, even when in the tall grasses and reeds that grew down there, all I could catch sight of, was a glimpse of waving tail held high.
My dogs have been a constant in my adult life, when the rest of my world was in chaos because of alcoholism. They've been companions, entertainers, friends, comforters.
Our little male dog, who has a tumour on his foreleg, has made me laugh like no dog before him. He was my introduction to dachshunds, and what comedians they are. When he was a tiny puppy, he was the same size as a plastic rat toy our cat loved to attack, and the same color - pure gleaming black from nose to tail tip.
When he was 5 or 6, the first grey hairs began to appear around his muzzle, and I thought that was far too early, since he had all the energy and bounce of a very young dog. The grey has slowly advanced along his nose until now he has the dog equivalent of quite a full mustache. But he still has the energy and bounce of a young dog - one vet suggested that the other dog in the mix was quite likely a terrier of some sort.
Last night, I was sitting on the bed telling my husband what the vet had said. A rush of emotion made me suddenly burst out with a wail of, "It's too soon!"
My husband said quietly, "It's always too soon with dogs."
And that is how it is, and ever will be. This is one of those "accept the things I cannot change" parts of life - dogs die long before we are ready. No matter what their age, or state of infirmity, we can't believe that it has come time to let them go.
I have tried my best to be a loving friend, and give my dogs a swift and painless death. But I realise that I expected to have our little dog for years yet, and I haven't even begun to deal with the reality of his aging. I've been in complete denial.
A program friend wrote: "I actually use my dog as an inspiration about how to live…..to try to capture her boundless capacity to live life to the fullest, each and every day."
For some of us, they will never be "just a dog."
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Birds and Belief.
Silly title, I know, but I'm in a whimsical mood. There's a birdhouse on the top of the clothesline pole, and it's being used at the moment, by a sparrow family. I watch impossibly tiny beaks appearing at the entrance, and a parent bird stuffing them with food. Whenever the adults return from their hunts, the excited squeaking of the babies makes me smile - anticipation and demand, all rolled into one loud sound.
I feel my Higher Power most strongly when I'm outside, listening to the soughing of the tall pines, feeling the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, and the satisfying crunch of twigs and pine cones beneath my feet.
I've passed the point in my belief where I feel the need to justify or explain. I have a comfort, I offer that to those with whom I speak and write, with no expectations that they will join me.
Today, I am content. I wish for you the same.
I feel my Higher Power most strongly when I'm outside, listening to the soughing of the tall pines, feeling the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, and the satisfying crunch of twigs and pine cones beneath my feet.
I've passed the point in my belief where I feel the need to justify or explain. I have a comfort, I offer that to those with whom I speak and write, with no expectations that they will join me.
Today, I am content. I wish for you the same.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Forgiveness Is A Choice, Not A Happening.
I was listening to an AA speaker last evening, while doing yoga, and one thing he said really resonated with me. He was answering a question posed by an audience member, about forgiveness.
He replied that when he was talking to sponsees about forgiveness, and wrongs done to them, he'd ask: "Can you imagine yourself 5 years from now, would you have forgiven them by that time, do you think?"
Invariably, the reply, after some thought, is, "Yes."
He then asks, "Why wait?"
(I could hear the ripple of surpise, and appreciative murmurs, run through the audience.)
The speaker repeated, "Why wait? So you can marinate in your unhappiness, and be a victim? If you can see yourself forgiving them sometime in the future, why not do that right now, and then you have your freedom from the resentment and anger?"
Forgiveness has been a powerful tool for me, to increase my daily serenity. When I accept that other people are trying to function with their own confused thinking and character defects, just as I've done, and continue to do, I can choose forgiveness.
I used to think that forgiveness would just ...occur, after I'd reached a certain place in recovery. That has proven not to be the case. Forgiveness is a choice. As I let go of my old beliefs that I have the right to know what another should do, say, or think, forgiveness becomes an easy choice. It's not something I do for the other person, as I once thought. It's a choice I make to free myself - from anger, from resentment, from Victimville. I lived there for a long, long time, and I'm not interested in moving back. They say you can't go home again, well, I'm grateful that through the practise of Al-Anon, not only do I not go back there, I've pretty much bulldozed the entire place - nothing to see there, anymore. Blue sky, green grass, the occasional bird or deer wandering through, but all those buildings I'd constructed and maintained with rage and resentment, they're gone, with not even a foundation stone to mark their place.
That's freedom.
He replied that when he was talking to sponsees about forgiveness, and wrongs done to them, he'd ask: "Can you imagine yourself 5 years from now, would you have forgiven them by that time, do you think?"
Invariably, the reply, after some thought, is, "Yes."
He then asks, "Why wait?"
(I could hear the ripple of surpise, and appreciative murmurs, run through the audience.)
The speaker repeated, "Why wait? So you can marinate in your unhappiness, and be a victim? If you can see yourself forgiving them sometime in the future, why not do that right now, and then you have your freedom from the resentment and anger?"
Forgiveness has been a powerful tool for me, to increase my daily serenity. When I accept that other people are trying to function with their own confused thinking and character defects, just as I've done, and continue to do, I can choose forgiveness.
I used to think that forgiveness would just ...occur, after I'd reached a certain place in recovery. That has proven not to be the case. Forgiveness is a choice. As I let go of my old beliefs that I have the right to know what another should do, say, or think, forgiveness becomes an easy choice. It's not something I do for the other person, as I once thought. It's a choice I make to free myself - from anger, from resentment, from Victimville. I lived there for a long, long time, and I'm not interested in moving back. They say you can't go home again, well, I'm grateful that through the practise of Al-Anon, not only do I not go back there, I've pretty much bulldozed the entire place - nothing to see there, anymore. Blue sky, green grass, the occasional bird or deer wandering through, but all those buildings I'd constructed and maintained with rage and resentment, they're gone, with not even a foundation stone to mark their place.
That's freedom.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Self-Discipline
One lesson I learned when young, was that if I had several tasks to perform, to do the one I wanted to do least, first. That way, it was finished, wasn't looming over me casting a long shadow, and everything that came after it felt easy by comparison. ( I always clean the bathroom first.)
I was explaining this to a sponsee, and she brought me up short by exclaiming, "I wouldn't have the self-discipline to do that!" I had to stop to consider - was it self-discipline? I suppose it is, although I think of it more as having found a way that works for me.
We then had a spirited discussion on labelling, and the different feelings which arose when considering "self-discipline" as opposed to "what works for me." She got really excited as she got a glimpse of the possibilities ahead, if she were to just change the way she labels her life. For her, "self-discipline" felt heavy and guilt-producing; "what works for me" felt light and powerful.
She said to me, hands waving, "I'm having one of those things you talk about, those things! You know what I mean, what are they, oh, why can't I remember?"
I asked, "Startling revelations?"
"Yes!" She sat back in her chair, satisfied, and beamed at me. I beamed back.
She said, "I've wanted one of my own, since the first time I heard you use that term."
I laughed, because that's how it seems to go in sponsorship. It's never the things upon which I pontificate, which make the connection for someone, it's the chance comment, the offhand remark.
"God is his own interpreter, and he will make it plain."
William Cowper
I was explaining this to a sponsee, and she brought me up short by exclaiming, "I wouldn't have the self-discipline to do that!" I had to stop to consider - was it self-discipline? I suppose it is, although I think of it more as having found a way that works for me.
We then had a spirited discussion on labelling, and the different feelings which arose when considering "self-discipline" as opposed to "what works for me." She got really excited as she got a glimpse of the possibilities ahead, if she were to just change the way she labels her life. For her, "self-discipline" felt heavy and guilt-producing; "what works for me" felt light and powerful.
She said to me, hands waving, "I'm having one of those things you talk about, those things! You know what I mean, what are they, oh, why can't I remember?"
I asked, "Startling revelations?"
"Yes!" She sat back in her chair, satisfied, and beamed at me. I beamed back.
She said, "I've wanted one of my own, since the first time I heard you use that term."
I laughed, because that's how it seems to go in sponsorship. It's never the things upon which I pontificate, which make the connection for someone, it's the chance comment, the offhand remark.
"God is his own interpreter, and he will make it plain."
William Cowper
Monday, May 30, 2011
Disagreeable and Lonesome.
"The question is not what a man can scorn, or disparage, or find fault with, but what he can love, and value, and appreciate."
John Ruskin.
Many of us have had so many years of frustration with someone's drinking by the time we hit the rooms of Al-Anon, that it can be quite the project to begin "loving, valuing and appreciating" our alcoholics.
We may treat our partner with a scornful disdain, while complaining that they no longer give us the affection we need and want. Someone once asked me, after I'd been complaining about the way I was treated by my first husband, "How do you treat him? With respect?"
I fell silent, unable to reply in the affirmative. I had lost all respect for him, with my loss of trust in him. I was new enough to Al-Anon to still be quite skilled at dismissing anything which didn't fit my world view, but that was one of those questions that would not be dismissed, it kept arising in my internal dialogue.
When working my first Step Four, I had to admit that I treated my first husband with contempt, disdain, rudeness, and cruelty, while at the same time complaining of the way he treated me. We were horrible to each other, it was just that his nastiness was delivered at the top of his voice, and mine came in quiet cutting remarks dropped into silences.
I could not begin to grow until I was able to admit where I was at the moment. All of my blaming and demonising of him may have satisfied the more childish element of my character, but it gave me no peace, and negatively affected my self-respect.
I have become a person I can love and respect, through my slow (so slow!) willingness to see my own character defects as affecting my experience in the world. If I am disagreeable, I will most likely be lonesome, because who wants to be around a chronic complainer who is full of scorn for the things others treasure?
When my husband was graduating from college, I somehow ended up sitting in the audience beside a woman who leant over and tried to fill my ear with disparaging remarks about the college, the courses, the instructors, the students...she was the girlfriend of a man who'd been in one of my husband's courses, and who he'd tried to avoid, because this man and his girlfriend shared a worldview unremittingly negative.
Before Al-Anon, I considered happy people to be fools who either didn't understand the realities of human life, or lucky bastards who had somehow escaped what the rest of us had suffered. It was unimaginable to me that anyone could suffer, and come through that suffering with an ability to "love, value, and appreciate."
From Courage to Change, page 148:
"After so many disappointments, it seemed too painful to continue to hope. We shut our hearts and minds to our dreams, and stopped expecting to find happiness. We weren't happy, but at least we wouldn't be let down anymore."
We may start out using a negative attitude as a way to protect our inner selves from the blows of disappointment, but it can become habitual, and then we're in real trouble, because our inner dialogue stops offering us the positive side, and we forget that there is one.
The reading goes on:
"I will not let fear of disappointment prevent me from enjoying this day. I have a great capacity for happiness."
I have found this to be nothing but the pure truth. I do have a great capacity for happiness, and that's a glorious thing.
John Ruskin.
Many of us have had so many years of frustration with someone's drinking by the time we hit the rooms of Al-Anon, that it can be quite the project to begin "loving, valuing and appreciating" our alcoholics.
We may treat our partner with a scornful disdain, while complaining that they no longer give us the affection we need and want. Someone once asked me, after I'd been complaining about the way I was treated by my first husband, "How do you treat him? With respect?"
I fell silent, unable to reply in the affirmative. I had lost all respect for him, with my loss of trust in him. I was new enough to Al-Anon to still be quite skilled at dismissing anything which didn't fit my world view, but that was one of those questions that would not be dismissed, it kept arising in my internal dialogue.
When working my first Step Four, I had to admit that I treated my first husband with contempt, disdain, rudeness, and cruelty, while at the same time complaining of the way he treated me. We were horrible to each other, it was just that his nastiness was delivered at the top of his voice, and mine came in quiet cutting remarks dropped into silences.
I could not begin to grow until I was able to admit where I was at the moment. All of my blaming and demonising of him may have satisfied the more childish element of my character, but it gave me no peace, and negatively affected my self-respect.
I have become a person I can love and respect, through my slow (so slow!) willingness to see my own character defects as affecting my experience in the world. If I am disagreeable, I will most likely be lonesome, because who wants to be around a chronic complainer who is full of scorn for the things others treasure?
When my husband was graduating from college, I somehow ended up sitting in the audience beside a woman who leant over and tried to fill my ear with disparaging remarks about the college, the courses, the instructors, the students...she was the girlfriend of a man who'd been in one of my husband's courses, and who he'd tried to avoid, because this man and his girlfriend shared a worldview unremittingly negative.
Before Al-Anon, I considered happy people to be fools who either didn't understand the realities of human life, or lucky bastards who had somehow escaped what the rest of us had suffered. It was unimaginable to me that anyone could suffer, and come through that suffering with an ability to "love, value, and appreciate."
From Courage to Change, page 148:
"After so many disappointments, it seemed too painful to continue to hope. We shut our hearts and minds to our dreams, and stopped expecting to find happiness. We weren't happy, but at least we wouldn't be let down anymore."
We may start out using a negative attitude as a way to protect our inner selves from the blows of disappointment, but it can become habitual, and then we're in real trouble, because our inner dialogue stops offering us the positive side, and we forget that there is one.
The reading goes on:
"I will not let fear of disappointment prevent me from enjoying this day. I have a great capacity for happiness."
I have found this to be nothing but the pure truth. I do have a great capacity for happiness, and that's a glorious thing.
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