Tomorrow we're off to collect a long-time friend from the airport - he's out here visiting family, and is taking a short side trip, for a one-night stay with us. We've talked to him regularly on the phone, and via email, during the 6 or so years since he moved away, but this will be the first time we've had the chance to see him. I'm excited, he's a wonderful person; stubborn and loving, witty and kind-hearted.
He once helped my spouse do some renovation work on a place we owned. I'd be working by myself in another room, and couldn't help but laugh, listening to the two of them. They would alternate between impassioned arguments over the proper way to install whatever it was, and uncontrollable laughing fits.
I once told them that when they were arguing, they sounded like an old married couple. In perfect unison, they each said quickly, "I'm the man!"
I can't think of this friend without smiling - I'm grateful to be given the gift of a visit from him.
Tonight, I'm feeling very tired from all the driving around, running around, phone calls, paperwork, etc, involved in selling this house. I'm on autopilot, and actually drifted off while sitting at my computer, with my little dog warm on my lap. I closed my eyes "for a moment," and jolted awake a minute or so later. Being this tired makes me worry less - I can't bring myself to expend energy I don't have, on things I cannot change. So in that way, plodding along through a miasma of fatigue can be a positive.
Keeps me in the moment, rather than having to say "God grant me serenity," I'm yawning hugely, and repeating a different mantra: "Oh, I'm so tired..."
Friday, December 11, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
That Sounds Like Fun...
I discovered when we bought this house, that realtors seem to have magic cameras, which can make houses and yards look absolutely massive in the listing, and then when one tours the actual house, it turns out to be distinctly poky - I learned from that, to read the details of the listing, don't just look at the pretty pictures - read the fine print.
I've also been playing with Google Earth, using it as a way to get another look at houses. I've already had one surprise - a fully renovated, and updated ranch-style house cleverly photographed, so that the houses on either side weren't visible. On Google Earth, it looked a bit like a mini-dachshund squeezed in between two Great Danes - a ranch style house with two story monsters on either side. It's a fascinating indication of how much tweaking is possible, to make something look like that which it is not.
Today, I had a newcomer come over for a visit with me and my dogs - it was great fun. My little female sized her up instantly, and within 30 seconds, was up on her lap, and then in her arms, being cradled like a baby. She stayed there the entire time, which is a little unusual for her, she's still a bit hesitant with strangers. I think she felt the visitor's need for dog-love, so lavished that upon her, as dogs so willingly do, asking nothing in return. My other little dog did his bit, entertaining her with displays of his ferociousness when it comes to beating the dickens out of a stuffed toy. We laughed at the way he would come into the room with a different toy, and then stand and wait until he had our full attention, before commencing his performance.
I had wondered, as I drove over to pick her up, if we'd have trouble finding things to talk about, but that wasn't the case - she got into the car, we started to talk, and we didn't stop until I dropped her back off at home again, hours later. I really enjoyed her company, she's a hoot, and her love for animals is a beautiful sight.
I had a great day today, and I hope you all did, too. God Bless.
I've also been playing with Google Earth, using it as a way to get another look at houses. I've already had one surprise - a fully renovated, and updated ranch-style house cleverly photographed, so that the houses on either side weren't visible. On Google Earth, it looked a bit like a mini-dachshund squeezed in between two Great Danes - a ranch style house with two story monsters on either side. It's a fascinating indication of how much tweaking is possible, to make something look like that which it is not.
Today, I had a newcomer come over for a visit with me and my dogs - it was great fun. My little female sized her up instantly, and within 30 seconds, was up on her lap, and then in her arms, being cradled like a baby. She stayed there the entire time, which is a little unusual for her, she's still a bit hesitant with strangers. I think she felt the visitor's need for dog-love, so lavished that upon her, as dogs so willingly do, asking nothing in return. My other little dog did his bit, entertaining her with displays of his ferociousness when it comes to beating the dickens out of a stuffed toy. We laughed at the way he would come into the room with a different toy, and then stand and wait until he had our full attention, before commencing his performance.
I had wondered, as I drove over to pick her up, if we'd have trouble finding things to talk about, but that wasn't the case - she got into the car, we started to talk, and we didn't stop until I dropped her back off at home again, hours later. I really enjoyed her company, she's a hoot, and her love for animals is a beautiful sight.
I had a great day today, and I hope you all did, too. God Bless.
Worrying Is My Comfort Zone.
Yesterday, I had the rather disconcerting experience, of being granted sufficient detachment to really see one of my character defects in action. I'm talking about worry. I was raised by a champion worrier, and have fought with this aspect of my character through all my years of recovery, with varying levels of success.
I've had wonderful periods where I've managed to let go of worry and just float serenely through my life, and it's given me a taste of how life can feel, when I'm not obsessing and fretting. (I want more of that.)
Yesterday morning, we were preparing to go to the bank. I made some comment to my spouse, and was answered with, "You're just looking for something to worry about." I replied with some heat, "No I'm not!" and then went into another room to do whatever, and began to think about my response - I know I only ever respond that way, when the other person's remark has been accurate. That comment got me thinking, and I decided to pay close attention to my day, and the worries therein.
We were successful at the bank, and were not even out of the parking lot onto the street, before I said something along the lines of, "I'm feeling a bit anxious about not having heard from anyone wanting to do the house inspection for the sale..."
I heard myself, and realised that I had removed one topic, "bank" and immediately slotted another, "buyer's house inspection," into place, with not a moment's peace in between them.
I watched myself do this one more time that day, and wondered, how much reality the worrying could have, if I can slot one topic out, and slot another in, without missing a step?
I realised that the topics are irrelevant, they seem to be completely interchangeable when I'm in this mode. I had always believed that the worries were relevant, and I just needed to let go of thinking about whatever topic was on my mind, as in, just let go of worrying about such and such. Yesterday, watching myself, I realised that when life is changing around me, even if I'm the one who has instigated the changes, I move into worry mode, and the topics are immaterial, it's the worrying itself which is my comfort zone during these periods.
(This may sound self-evident to you, but believe me, I was gobsmacked to discover it.)
Each one of the worries I'd listed off to my spouse, was listed back to me as completely beyond my control. I know that, so what is this all about? I believe it's about always having gone through times of change in my life, with a big knot of fear and worry in my gut, and being so accustomed to that fluttery awful stressful feeling, that I do not even question it anymore - that's just how I feel during these times.
I love this program; without it, I'd never have set myself the task yesterday of paying attention to my internal dialogue, in order to see if I could see any patterns. I'd never have realised that in times of stress, it isn't that I worry, and I don't like worrying, it's that worrying during times of stress feels right, feels comfortable, feels like an old sweater I put on against the cold draft of change.
I've had wonderful periods where I've managed to let go of worry and just float serenely through my life, and it's given me a taste of how life can feel, when I'm not obsessing and fretting. (I want more of that.)
Yesterday morning, we were preparing to go to the bank. I made some comment to my spouse, and was answered with, "You're just looking for something to worry about." I replied with some heat, "No I'm not!" and then went into another room to do whatever, and began to think about my response - I know I only ever respond that way, when the other person's remark has been accurate. That comment got me thinking, and I decided to pay close attention to my day, and the worries therein.
We were successful at the bank, and were not even out of the parking lot onto the street, before I said something along the lines of, "I'm feeling a bit anxious about not having heard from anyone wanting to do the house inspection for the sale..."
I heard myself, and realised that I had removed one topic, "bank" and immediately slotted another, "buyer's house inspection," into place, with not a moment's peace in between them.
I watched myself do this one more time that day, and wondered, how much reality the worrying could have, if I can slot one topic out, and slot another in, without missing a step?
I realised that the topics are irrelevant, they seem to be completely interchangeable when I'm in this mode. I had always believed that the worries were relevant, and I just needed to let go of thinking about whatever topic was on my mind, as in, just let go of worrying about such and such. Yesterday, watching myself, I realised that when life is changing around me, even if I'm the one who has instigated the changes, I move into worry mode, and the topics are immaterial, it's the worrying itself which is my comfort zone during these periods.
(This may sound self-evident to you, but believe me, I was gobsmacked to discover it.)
Each one of the worries I'd listed off to my spouse, was listed back to me as completely beyond my control. I know that, so what is this all about? I believe it's about always having gone through times of change in my life, with a big knot of fear and worry in my gut, and being so accustomed to that fluttery awful stressful feeling, that I do not even question it anymore - that's just how I feel during these times.
I love this program; without it, I'd never have set myself the task yesterday of paying attention to my internal dialogue, in order to see if I could see any patterns. I'd never have realised that in times of stress, it isn't that I worry, and I don't like worrying, it's that worrying during times of stress feels right, feels comfortable, feels like an old sweater I put on against the cold draft of change.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
More on "Normal."
One of the biggest reasons we are moving, is the climate here - too much rain, not enough sun. I find it depressing.
Some folks who've lived here all their lives, don't think this town gets any less sun than anyplace else - this is staggering, as the federal website for weather states this place is the second rainiest of 100 cities studied over a period of 30 years!
When discussing this with my spouse, they made the point that if you haven't lived anywhere else, this is normal weather.
That got me thinking about the ways in which we learn to tolerate conditions, and "normalise" them. Since we decided to move, we've had people ask us in all seriousness what exactly is it that we dislike about the climate? (After being asked that for the twentieth time, my souse replied pleasantly, "Oh, you know: the spring, the summer, the fall, the winter.") We've seen people take offense at the suggestion that this climate leaves something to be desired: the same people who, on another day, will bend one's ear with their own weather complaints.
I've been seeing a lot of parallels with my own thinking in times past - refusal to accept reality, in favour of turning my face away, and telling myself it isn't that bad, this is just the way life is.
The weather here is that bad. The town sits in a valley, and gets socked in with cloud cover, year round. One can drive up and over the pass, and it will be sunny on the other side of the mountain. I've been entertaining myself looking at the highway cameras for the city we're moving to, and it will be beaming sunshine over there, while we sit under a cloud of grey. I can't wait to move.
Before we'd made the decision to relocate, I had pretty much resigned myself to not complaining, trying to be positive. Now that the decision is made, and I can see an end to living here, I'm no longer repressing my feelings about the climate in this town. I'm realising just how negatively it has affected me.
This has been a pattern for me all my life - tolerate the intolerable while stuffing my true feelings about it, until such time as I decide to stop - then the reality of it pours over me, and I wonder how on earth I stood it for so long? One way, was to substitute other people's judgment for my own. I permitted others to tell me that it wasn't so bad, and tried to force myself to believe it. After all, we'd bought a house here, we had to stay, right?
I'd just learn to live with it, that's all, other people did. Until a night about two months ago, when we were having a really intimate discussion, and the truth of my feelings about living here burst out, and surprised us both. We discussed it over a week or so, and then decided to call the realtor, put the house on the market, sell up, and move.
Yesterday, we accepted an offer on the house, subject to a home inspection. Today, the sun is shining, like a promise. My little dogs were lying in patches of sun on the kitchen floor, while I stood gazing out the window, overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude.
Some folks who've lived here all their lives, don't think this town gets any less sun than anyplace else - this is staggering, as the federal website for weather states this place is the second rainiest of 100 cities studied over a period of 30 years!
When discussing this with my spouse, they made the point that if you haven't lived anywhere else, this is normal weather.
That got me thinking about the ways in which we learn to tolerate conditions, and "normalise" them. Since we decided to move, we've had people ask us in all seriousness what exactly is it that we dislike about the climate? (After being asked that for the twentieth time, my souse replied pleasantly, "Oh, you know: the spring, the summer, the fall, the winter.") We've seen people take offense at the suggestion that this climate leaves something to be desired: the same people who, on another day, will bend one's ear with their own weather complaints.
I've been seeing a lot of parallels with my own thinking in times past - refusal to accept reality, in favour of turning my face away, and telling myself it isn't that bad, this is just the way life is.
The weather here is that bad. The town sits in a valley, and gets socked in with cloud cover, year round. One can drive up and over the pass, and it will be sunny on the other side of the mountain. I've been entertaining myself looking at the highway cameras for the city we're moving to, and it will be beaming sunshine over there, while we sit under a cloud of grey. I can't wait to move.
Before we'd made the decision to relocate, I had pretty much resigned myself to not complaining, trying to be positive. Now that the decision is made, and I can see an end to living here, I'm no longer repressing my feelings about the climate in this town. I'm realising just how negatively it has affected me.
This has been a pattern for me all my life - tolerate the intolerable while stuffing my true feelings about it, until such time as I decide to stop - then the reality of it pours over me, and I wonder how on earth I stood it for so long? One way, was to substitute other people's judgment for my own. I permitted others to tell me that it wasn't so bad, and tried to force myself to believe it. After all, we'd bought a house here, we had to stay, right?
I'd just learn to live with it, that's all, other people did. Until a night about two months ago, when we were having a really intimate discussion, and the truth of my feelings about living here burst out, and surprised us both. We discussed it over a week or so, and then decided to call the realtor, put the house on the market, sell up, and move.
Yesterday, we accepted an offer on the house, subject to a home inspection. Today, the sun is shining, like a promise. My little dogs were lying in patches of sun on the kitchen floor, while I stood gazing out the window, overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Self-Obsession.
This was the topic at my home group last night, and Mr. SponsorPants has a good post on it today. When I was new to Al-Anon, I found it rather puzzling that we were warned against self-obsession, while being told to practise the Steps, which require rigorous self-examination - what's the difference? Either way, I'm thinking about myself, aren't I?
Yes, but it's what I'm thinking about myself. In self-obsession, I'm on a negative path, which spirals ever downward - I've never yet surfaced from 4 hours of self-obsession feeling refreshed or energised. Self-obsession focuses only on the negatives in my life, and has running through it, a strong vein of resentment, frustration, anger, and self-pity.
In contrast, self-examination does leave me feeling more positive and hopeful. I've got the experience of my years in Al-Anon, to remind myself, that if I can set aside all my judgements about my own behavior or thinking, and just see it for what it is, without having to lash or shame myself for it, I can let go of what doesn't work, keep what works, and plow forward on my great adventure.
When I let go of shame about my character defects, I can share them with my sponsees, and perhaps allow them to realise that what they are thinking/feeling/wanting is only their human frailties, not evil and contemptible.
When I'm not obsessing about myself, I can share myself freely with others. I can give the gift of my experience, strength, and hope. I can offer my love to the members of my Al-Anon groups, and to the larger world outside them.
I know it sounds like a gooey greeting card to say this, but love really does grow as we share it. There is always enough to go around - a limitless supply - the very act of giving love replenishes the spring.
Yes, but it's what I'm thinking about myself. In self-obsession, I'm on a negative path, which spirals ever downward - I've never yet surfaced from 4 hours of self-obsession feeling refreshed or energised. Self-obsession focuses only on the negatives in my life, and has running through it, a strong vein of resentment, frustration, anger, and self-pity.
In contrast, self-examination does leave me feeling more positive and hopeful. I've got the experience of my years in Al-Anon, to remind myself, that if I can set aside all my judgements about my own behavior or thinking, and just see it for what it is, without having to lash or shame myself for it, I can let go of what doesn't work, keep what works, and plow forward on my great adventure.
When I let go of shame about my character defects, I can share them with my sponsees, and perhaps allow them to realise that what they are thinking/feeling/wanting is only their human frailties, not evil and contemptible.
When I'm not obsessing about myself, I can share myself freely with others. I can give the gift of my experience, strength, and hope. I can offer my love to the members of my Al-Anon groups, and to the larger world outside them.
I know it sounds like a gooey greeting card to say this, but love really does grow as we share it. There is always enough to go around - a limitless supply - the very act of giving love replenishes the spring.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Being Informed.
I don't watch the news. I've learned that watching the news leaves me feeling:
angry
horrified
disgusted
depressed.
I'm well aware of man's inhumanity to man, and to his fellow creatures on the earth, I don't need a daily reminder via my tv. I've pretty much stopped admitting to this non-watching of the news, because I decided years ago that if one more person asked in amazement, "Don't you want to be informed?" I'd start screaming.
No, I don't want to be informed of the latest rapes, murders, thefts, muggings, beatings, deadly car crashes, wars, abuses, or any of the other millions of horrific actions people choose to take on a daily basis. I can't do a damn thing about any of it, so I don't want to hear about it. It's all completely beyond my control; a steady diet of the terrible things people do only depresses me, and triggers my negative thinking. I start to view the world, and mankind, as hopelessly evil and corrupt. If that's the case, then what's the use of any of my small effort? It's a teaspoon to an ocean. Etc, etc, until I'm in such a state of gloom, that it takes concerted effort to climb back out of the pit.
Now and then, I will have a conversation with someone who is determined to talk about some horror from the news, and who wants to describe it to me in full gory detail. I've learned to say -politely - that I don't want to hear about it, please.
I've moved far and away past the point of caring if others think I'm wierd for not watching the news, or reading the paper. I had a conversation with someone last night, who said that I should watch the news "so I knew what people are capable of."
I learned that in my childhood; it's not a lesson one is likely to forget. Daily reminders of it aren't good for me, they take me down a road I do not wish to travel.
I've worked to develop a more positive attitude about life. Watching the news makes this positive attitude impossible for me to sustain, so I don't watch the news. It's a simple fix. Sometimes life really is that easy, but I complicate it unnecessarily, because I just cannot accept that the solution has been sitting there in front of me the entire time.
angry
horrified
disgusted
depressed.
I'm well aware of man's inhumanity to man, and to his fellow creatures on the earth, I don't need a daily reminder via my tv. I've pretty much stopped admitting to this non-watching of the news, because I decided years ago that if one more person asked in amazement, "Don't you want to be informed?" I'd start screaming.
No, I don't want to be informed of the latest rapes, murders, thefts, muggings, beatings, deadly car crashes, wars, abuses, or any of the other millions of horrific actions people choose to take on a daily basis. I can't do a damn thing about any of it, so I don't want to hear about it. It's all completely beyond my control; a steady diet of the terrible things people do only depresses me, and triggers my negative thinking. I start to view the world, and mankind, as hopelessly evil and corrupt. If that's the case, then what's the use of any of my small effort? It's a teaspoon to an ocean. Etc, etc, until I'm in such a state of gloom, that it takes concerted effort to climb back out of the pit.
Now and then, I will have a conversation with someone who is determined to talk about some horror from the news, and who wants to describe it to me in full gory detail. I've learned to say -politely - that I don't want to hear about it, please.
I've moved far and away past the point of caring if others think I'm wierd for not watching the news, or reading the paper. I had a conversation with someone last night, who said that I should watch the news "so I knew what people are capable of."
I learned that in my childhood; it's not a lesson one is likely to forget. Daily reminders of it aren't good for me, they take me down a road I do not wish to travel.
I've worked to develop a more positive attitude about life. Watching the news makes this positive attitude impossible for me to sustain, so I don't watch the news. It's a simple fix. Sometimes life really is that easy, but I complicate it unnecessarily, because I just cannot accept that the solution has been sitting there in front of me the entire time.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Will I Ever Be Normal?
A program friend was telling me that she likes a certain tv show, except for the fact that at the end, while the credits are beginning to roll, they always break out the booze, in celebration. She went on for a good two minutes in a mini-rant about always needing alcohol to mark achievments, yada yada yada...when she wound down, I asked her why she didn't just switch channels before it reached that point in the show?
She gazed at me for a moment, mouth pursed, brow furrowed, before she burst out laughing - this had truly never entered her head as a option. When she calmed down from her laughing fit, she asked half-jokingly, "Will I ever be normal?"
I asked her, "Who cares? Why strive for conformity, or "normality," when instead, you can strive to be the best version of yourself, with all your attendant quirks and interesting personality traits? We don't love you for your proximity to an artificial baseline of behavior, decreed as "normal;" we love you for the delightful difference of you."
She grinned at me, saying "Can you repeat that in one-syllable words, please? (She likes to puncture my pomposity, this friend)
She went on to say thoughtfully, "I like that, the delightful difference of me."
In my journey in 12-Step, when I have tried to force myself into an arbitrary category, I've ended up bruised around the edges, because there are all these bits of me that do not fit, and cannot be squashed into that tiny spot of "acceptably normal." I spent too many years feeling like some wierdo misfit, because I couldn't make myself feel or think or want what I believed I was supposed to.
Today, I'm working towards not trying to fit myself into any standard but the one with my name on it. The one that I've designed, with the help of Al-Anon, and my Higher Power.
Now if I can just reach a place where I'm willing to let each and every other person on the face of God's green earth do the same, with no input from me, that would be Heaven, don't you think?
She gazed at me for a moment, mouth pursed, brow furrowed, before she burst out laughing - this had truly never entered her head as a option. When she calmed down from her laughing fit, she asked half-jokingly, "Will I ever be normal?"
I asked her, "Who cares? Why strive for conformity, or "normality," when instead, you can strive to be the best version of yourself, with all your attendant quirks and interesting personality traits? We don't love you for your proximity to an artificial baseline of behavior, decreed as "normal;" we love you for the delightful difference of you."
She grinned at me, saying "Can you repeat that in one-syllable words, please? (She likes to puncture my pomposity, this friend)
She went on to say thoughtfully, "I like that, the delightful difference of me."
In my journey in 12-Step, when I have tried to force myself into an arbitrary category, I've ended up bruised around the edges, because there are all these bits of me that do not fit, and cannot be squashed into that tiny spot of "acceptably normal." I spent too many years feeling like some wierdo misfit, because I couldn't make myself feel or think or want what I believed I was supposed to.
Today, I'm working towards not trying to fit myself into any standard but the one with my name on it. The one that I've designed, with the help of Al-Anon, and my Higher Power.
Now if I can just reach a place where I'm willing to let each and every other person on the face of God's green earth do the same, with no input from me, that would be Heaven, don't you think?
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