Hard to believe, isn't it?
Today's reading in the ODAT had a phrase which resonated with me, about how Al-Anon is like a "spiritual common sense." It's not estoteric wisdom which can only be gained after a long trek up a distant mountaintop in the Andes, with thousands of pounds of gear, and much splashing out of resources, in order to consult a guru who is in retreat from humanity. It's common sense - when I do this, that happens.
When I reacted the way I used to, to alcoholic behavior, the result was insanity and no serenity. When I put my program into practise, not only is my life more manageable, but I will also find time to enjoy myself.
We don't have space here for me to do stained glass, so I've gone back to my early art school days, and have been playing with watercolors. I did that tonight for about 3 hours, (surfacing only when my spouse arrived home from the AA rally all blissed out)
We looked at each other, and began to laugh - we recognised that we each wore an expression of contented delight - a shared moment of comfortable affection.
So life goes, rising and falling like sea waves on rock. Earlier in the week, I felt annoyed and tired in having to deal with alcoholic "isms" - the last few days, I'm enjoying myself, and feeling serene.
Through Al-Anon, I'm learning to let go of the stressful times as they pass, and not use them to bludgeon, shame or control another. I saw a sign today, as I was returning home from the art supply store:
"It's a waste of the future, to spend today, fretting about the past."
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Co-operating With God.
From the ODAT, page 28:
"God does not deprive us of His love, we deprive Him of our co-operation."
I'm continually surprised by how much of the wisdom of Al-Anon I am able to forget. I have loved that sentence from the first time I read it, when the book ONE DAY AT A TIME IN AL-ANON, (hereinafter referred to as the ODAT) was new to me . I've gone through a few of these little blue books since I started; either from having worn them to the point of disintegration, or from lending them out and not getting them back. I don't do that anymore, but that's a topic for another post.
I read that line this morning, and thought of the sliding glass door leading out to the deck. When we moved here, it required real effort to shift, in either direction. My spouse tried it a few times, then took it off the track, took out one set of wheels, examined them, and laughed. They showed them to me; the casing was bent to the point that the two wheels were out of alignment by about a quarter inch. The front wheels were the same. I was doubtful; how much difference could a quarter of an inch make? I figured it was partly that the door was just heavy.
New wheels were purchased, installed, the door put back on the track, and it was suggested I try it now. I went over, braced myself, and pulled with the same amount of effort as was needed prior to his efforts. The door flew backwards, and was stopped by their hand before it smashed into the casing. I was gratified and delighted by the ease with which the heavy door moved. That quarter inch made an enormous difference.
Al-Anon is the quarter inch in my daily life. It's the difference between having to brace myself and haul on life's doors, and being able to just...open them, with a slight pull.
That quarter inch is also my co-operation with my Higher Power. When I'm stubbornly trying to do it all by myself, it's like the sliding glass door before the new wheels; it's possible to operate it, but the effort required is far more than should be necessary. My Higher Power is always there for me; I'm the one who turns my face away from that source of strength, because my ego is running rampant.
"God does not deprive us of His love, we deprive Him of our co-operation."
I'm continually surprised by how much of the wisdom of Al-Anon I am able to forget. I have loved that sentence from the first time I read it, when the book ONE DAY AT A TIME IN AL-ANON, (hereinafter referred to as the ODAT) was new to me . I've gone through a few of these little blue books since I started; either from having worn them to the point of disintegration, or from lending them out and not getting them back. I don't do that anymore, but that's a topic for another post.
I read that line this morning, and thought of the sliding glass door leading out to the deck. When we moved here, it required real effort to shift, in either direction. My spouse tried it a few times, then took it off the track, took out one set of wheels, examined them, and laughed. They showed them to me; the casing was bent to the point that the two wheels were out of alignment by about a quarter inch. The front wheels were the same. I was doubtful; how much difference could a quarter of an inch make? I figured it was partly that the door was just heavy.
New wheels were purchased, installed, the door put back on the track, and it was suggested I try it now. I went over, braced myself, and pulled with the same amount of effort as was needed prior to his efforts. The door flew backwards, and was stopped by their hand before it smashed into the casing. I was gratified and delighted by the ease with which the heavy door moved. That quarter inch made an enormous difference.
Al-Anon is the quarter inch in my daily life. It's the difference between having to brace myself and haul on life's doors, and being able to just...open them, with a slight pull.
That quarter inch is also my co-operation with my Higher Power. When I'm stubbornly trying to do it all by myself, it's like the sliding glass door before the new wheels; it's possible to operate it, but the effort required is far more than should be necessary. My Higher Power is always there for me; I'm the one who turns my face away from that source of strength, because my ego is running rampant.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Won't Power.
When I had been in Al-Anon for a few years, and was at a stage of having come face-to-face with some of my worst character defects for the first time, I went through a period of rebellion against all things Twelve Step. I'd sit in meetings and feel irritated at how long this person or that spoke, I'd make judgements, I'd daydream, and lose the topic completely.
I began to feel a creeping sort of alarm regarding this, because I knew how helpful program was to me in so many ways: working the Steps of Al-Anon had made it possible for me to enjoy life in a way I'd never have dreamed possible for a person with my history. So what was going on? I kept quiet about this for ages, before making what I thought was a brilliantly off-hand comment to my sponsor. She, of the keen understanding and directness, (which grated upon me so much at the beginning, and became such a gift)
pounced upon this, and suggested we explore it further. All my wriggling and squirming was for naught - she had me pinned, and insisted I elaborate.
It all came spilling out, along with my fears about why this was happening. She smiled lovingly at me, and said, "I call that "won't power."
Huh?
She explained that she used that as a shorthand term to describe the negativity which resides within so many of us, and pushes us to: leave things be, don't rock the boat, don't make a fuss, put your head down, and try to be invisible, slide down the side of the room, smile politely, chat, but don't reveal yourself, walk alone, eat alone, be alone, and whatever you do, don't change anything.
I sat there stunned, because she had just described my most secret self in her crisp British accent. That was the start of my understanding of how my isolating kept me trapped in my sickness.
I'd always believed that keeping my true self hidden from other people kept me safe, but it wasn't true at all, it just kept me stuck.
My sponsor went on to explain that even after all her years in program, she still, especially in times of stress, had "won't power" surge to the forefront of her consciousness, and would have to make a conscious, deliberate effort to shrug that off, by making contact and reasoning things out with a program friend, or her own sponsor.
I have always isolated in times of stress, and that is still my default mode. I have to make a choice to do the opposite. When things are going well, I don't have the desire to hide out, it's only when I'm struggling with whatever demon or difficulty is here today. That's where the program concept of doing the opposite of the action we first consider, comes into play for me. If I want to isolate, I choose to call a program friend or my sponsor.
I had a perfect example of this today - my sponsor sent an email to ask, was I still driving over to have lunch with her this week, and even though I adore this woman, and enjoy her company enormously, my first impulse was to reply that I was too tired/busy/excuse of the day. Why? Because things have been a bit stressful here, and that's my "won't power" operating. Hide out, be quiet about it, smile smile smile and lie about how great life is.
So I quickly sent a reply saying that yes I was, and I couldn't wait, and hit that "send" button before I could change my mind.
That's program working in my life. That's me working my program. That's me turning, to open the door, shove the won't power back out across the sill, slam it firmly closed and lock it. I went and read some program literature directly afterwards, to reinforce my knowledge that this was a good choice.
I began to feel a creeping sort of alarm regarding this, because I knew how helpful program was to me in so many ways: working the Steps of Al-Anon had made it possible for me to enjoy life in a way I'd never have dreamed possible for a person with my history. So what was going on? I kept quiet about this for ages, before making what I thought was a brilliantly off-hand comment to my sponsor. She, of the keen understanding and directness, (which grated upon me so much at the beginning, and became such a gift)
pounced upon this, and suggested we explore it further. All my wriggling and squirming was for naught - she had me pinned, and insisted I elaborate.
It all came spilling out, along with my fears about why this was happening. She smiled lovingly at me, and said, "I call that "won't power."
Huh?
She explained that she used that as a shorthand term to describe the negativity which resides within so many of us, and pushes us to: leave things be, don't rock the boat, don't make a fuss, put your head down, and try to be invisible, slide down the side of the room, smile politely, chat, but don't reveal yourself, walk alone, eat alone, be alone, and whatever you do, don't change anything.
I sat there stunned, because she had just described my most secret self in her crisp British accent. That was the start of my understanding of how my isolating kept me trapped in my sickness.
I'd always believed that keeping my true self hidden from other people kept me safe, but it wasn't true at all, it just kept me stuck.
My sponsor went on to explain that even after all her years in program, she still, especially in times of stress, had "won't power" surge to the forefront of her consciousness, and would have to make a conscious, deliberate effort to shrug that off, by making contact and reasoning things out with a program friend, or her own sponsor.
I have always isolated in times of stress, and that is still my default mode. I have to make a choice to do the opposite. When things are going well, I don't have the desire to hide out, it's only when I'm struggling with whatever demon or difficulty is here today. That's where the program concept of doing the opposite of the action we first consider, comes into play for me. If I want to isolate, I choose to call a program friend or my sponsor.
I had a perfect example of this today - my sponsor sent an email to ask, was I still driving over to have lunch with her this week, and even though I adore this woman, and enjoy her company enormously, my first impulse was to reply that I was too tired/busy/excuse of the day. Why? Because things have been a bit stressful here, and that's my "won't power" operating. Hide out, be quiet about it, smile smile smile and lie about how great life is.
So I quickly sent a reply saying that yes I was, and I couldn't wait, and hit that "send" button before I could change my mind.
That's program working in my life. That's me working my program. That's me turning, to open the door, shove the won't power back out across the sill, slam it firmly closed and lock it. I went and read some program literature directly afterwards, to reinforce my knowledge that this was a good choice.
Monday, January 25, 2010
If A Thing's Worth Doing...
...it's worth doing well. That little expression was one I heard many times as a kid, and it tied in nicely with the defeatist part of my nature, which rather than be seen to do something badly, would refuse to even try. "Perfection or nothing!" was my philosophy. I had a sort of muddled idea that if I couldn't do whatever it was well, right off the bat, I was a failure.
Al-Anon was the first place I was introduced to a way of thinking which accepted failure as an indication of effort expended, and wasn't that wonderful, because having got that first distressing failure out of the way, now I was that much closer to success.
I learned to redefine success for myself, rather than accept anyone else's definition. That meant that I could do whatever it was badly, a cobbled-together hodgepodge, and define it as a good result because I'd tried, and had this to show for my efforts. Ugly it may have been to any eyes but my own, but to me, it could be a thing of beauty, if I allowed it.
Al-Anon introduced me to:
"Good enough for now."
"Perfectly satisfactory for a beginner's effort."
"Not great, but not bad."
"Excellent result, given my inexperience."
"Hey, you know, that really does (sort of) resemble a _____."
I'm grateful for all of this, because it has permitted me to try the new and the different, in a spirit of hopeful enthusiasm, with no worry or fretting for the end result - the joy is in the trying.
Al-Anon was the first place I was introduced to a way of thinking which accepted failure as an indication of effort expended, and wasn't that wonderful, because having got that first distressing failure out of the way, now I was that much closer to success.
I learned to redefine success for myself, rather than accept anyone else's definition. That meant that I could do whatever it was badly, a cobbled-together hodgepodge, and define it as a good result because I'd tried, and had this to show for my efforts. Ugly it may have been to any eyes but my own, but to me, it could be a thing of beauty, if I allowed it.
Al-Anon introduced me to:
"Good enough for now."
"Perfectly satisfactory for a beginner's effort."
"Not great, but not bad."
"Excellent result, given my inexperience."
"Hey, you know, that really does (sort of) resemble a _____."
I'm grateful for all of this, because it has permitted me to try the new and the different, in a spirit of hopeful enthusiasm, with no worry or fretting for the end result - the joy is in the trying.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
How Badly Do I Want Change? con't.
From the ODAT, page 23:
"Learning the Al-Anon program in all its deep meanings, and applying it to my daily life is not simple matter of going to a meeting now and then. Suppose I had decided to learn another language or study art or a science, I would have to work at it every day and practise the things I learned until they became part of me. A philosopher or an artist studies every day for years to perfect himself. How can I hope to perfect myself in the Al-Anon way of life without daily application?"
A few years ago, a friend asked me to teach her the basics of stained glass. I agreed, and we spent quite a few hours down in her basement, working on the fundamentals of how to cut glass, how to foil correctly, and how to solder. My friend then put the glass aside, and didn't touch it again for about 2 years, at which time she asked me to teach her again, because she'd forgotten it all.
I gently refused, instead giving her the excellent instruction book with which I'd taught myself how to do stained glass. (Setting this boundary was very difficult for me, because I respect, admire, and love my friend, and didn't want to upset or annoy her. I reminded her that we'd discussed before the lessons, the fact that I was making an exception for her, because I don't teach anyone how to do glass, and I've had many requests. I'm not a good teacher, I'm too impatient.)
I had taken the time to show her how to do it, it was then up to her to utilise that knowledge, or not. Program is just the same.I learn how to utilise the wisdom of Twelve Step through attending meetings, talking to other members, reading, and working with a sponsor. Other members can be of enormous help to me, but unless I'm willing to put the program into practise in my own life, I won't get anywhere.
Some lessons come easily, and I use the information almost immediately. Others, for whatever reason: my ego, or stubborness, or my ever-present desire for control, (simmering away on a back burner like a stock pot) are set aside, in full view, and not touched again for months. Or years, when I was newer to program.
Life has given me sufficient painful instruction in the result of my knowing, yet continuing to turn my face away, and refusing to admit a reality, to reduce my obstinacy considerably by this stage of my journey.
I heard at the meeting someone speak of setting boundaries with himself - I like that. Saying to myself: this far, and no further. Do not go there. You know what happens, so suck it up, turn around, and walk the other way, repeating the Serenity Prayer as you go.
"Learning the Al-Anon program in all its deep meanings, and applying it to my daily life is not simple matter of going to a meeting now and then. Suppose I had decided to learn another language or study art or a science, I would have to work at it every day and practise the things I learned until they became part of me. A philosopher or an artist studies every day for years to perfect himself. How can I hope to perfect myself in the Al-Anon way of life without daily application?"
A few years ago, a friend asked me to teach her the basics of stained glass. I agreed, and we spent quite a few hours down in her basement, working on the fundamentals of how to cut glass, how to foil correctly, and how to solder. My friend then put the glass aside, and didn't touch it again for about 2 years, at which time she asked me to teach her again, because she'd forgotten it all.
I gently refused, instead giving her the excellent instruction book with which I'd taught myself how to do stained glass. (Setting this boundary was very difficult for me, because I respect, admire, and love my friend, and didn't want to upset or annoy her. I reminded her that we'd discussed before the lessons, the fact that I was making an exception for her, because I don't teach anyone how to do glass, and I've had many requests. I'm not a good teacher, I'm too impatient.)
I had taken the time to show her how to do it, it was then up to her to utilise that knowledge, or not. Program is just the same.I learn how to utilise the wisdom of Twelve Step through attending meetings, talking to other members, reading, and working with a sponsor. Other members can be of enormous help to me, but unless I'm willing to put the program into practise in my own life, I won't get anywhere.
Some lessons come easily, and I use the information almost immediately. Others, for whatever reason: my ego, or stubborness, or my ever-present desire for control, (simmering away on a back burner like a stock pot) are set aside, in full view, and not touched again for months. Or years, when I was newer to program.
Life has given me sufficient painful instruction in the result of my knowing, yet continuing to turn my face away, and refusing to admit a reality, to reduce my obstinacy considerably by this stage of my journey.
I heard at the meeting someone speak of setting boundaries with himself - I like that. Saying to myself: this far, and no further. Do not go there. You know what happens, so suck it up, turn around, and walk the other way, repeating the Serenity Prayer as you go.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Some Days Saunter Along...
...and some go like a Ferrari on the Autobahn. Today has been one of the latter, as evidenced by the fact that I'm just getting to this, at almost 4:30pm.
It was gloriously sunny and mild today - that in itself, is enough to put me in a good mood. After 14 years of living in places where the sun is an infrequent visitor, and the drip of precipitation can be the loudest sound, being able to go out and stand in sunshine, is a pleasure beyond words to describe. Crunching and sliding over stones on the beach, dogs beside us, and the ferry slowly pulling away from the dock on the opposite side of the harbour - all these are additions to my gratitude list, which seems pages long today.
I love days where I find myself smiling happily over nothing, and everything. My meeting is tonight, and I'm anticipating that. When I have my Al-Anon filter in place, I see challenges, rather than barriers. I see opportunities instead of tests. I see life, love, and people in a peaceful, wholehearted, energetic and enthusiastic way. I feel that all my efforts are rewarded, in my ability to live comfortably within my own head.
I feel generous and open-minded, and I count my blessings. I have so many. They're always there; it's my ability to see them that is dependant upon my state of mind. Some days, it's as though I'm unable to stop squinting in dissatisfaction, so all that is visible is a blur through my eyelashes, and it's too easy to begin muttering my discontent.
Recovery is work. At times, it's damnably hard, sweaty, uncomfortable work. Whether or not I can recognise it at the time, I reap the reward either way.
It was gloriously sunny and mild today - that in itself, is enough to put me in a good mood. After 14 years of living in places where the sun is an infrequent visitor, and the drip of precipitation can be the loudest sound, being able to go out and stand in sunshine, is a pleasure beyond words to describe. Crunching and sliding over stones on the beach, dogs beside us, and the ferry slowly pulling away from the dock on the opposite side of the harbour - all these are additions to my gratitude list, which seems pages long today.
I love days where I find myself smiling happily over nothing, and everything. My meeting is tonight, and I'm anticipating that. When I have my Al-Anon filter in place, I see challenges, rather than barriers. I see opportunities instead of tests. I see life, love, and people in a peaceful, wholehearted, energetic and enthusiastic way. I feel that all my efforts are rewarded, in my ability to live comfortably within my own head.
I feel generous and open-minded, and I count my blessings. I have so many. They're always there; it's my ability to see them that is dependant upon my state of mind. Some days, it's as though I'm unable to stop squinting in dissatisfaction, so all that is visible is a blur through my eyelashes, and it's too easy to begin muttering my discontent.
Recovery is work. At times, it's damnably hard, sweaty, uncomfortable work. Whether or not I can recognise it at the time, I reap the reward either way.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Clutching The Past In An Iron Grip.
I was reminded last night, of what can happen when we are unable to let go of the past, and the hurts we've suffered. Some of us will go to our graves never having made our peace with the past. Were it not for Al-Anon, I know I'd have been one of those people.
I was in my late twenties when I came into program, and I was still obsessed with what had been done to me as a child. I was furious, resentful and a victim par excellence - I had my passport to victimhood in my childhood. Werefit were suggested that I take responsibility for my behaviors, I'd whip my abusive childhood out and wave it - a free pass to behave poorly. I had, or so I thought, the ultimate excuse.
Every now and then I wonder who I'd be were it not for this incredible program of self-improvement, and I shudder a bit, because I have a fairly good idea - I'd just be an older, more rigid, more solid version of myself when new to Al-Anon. Still sunk in misery, still taking out that excuse book every single day and reading it, feeling almost the same pain and rage, as I had when the actual events occured. Many more years of my life would have passed, and I still wouldn't have been able to enjoy my time here on earth.
Al-Anon has been a life-giver to me. The wisdom of Twelve Steps has allowed me to let go of the past, to let it slip beneath the surface of my daily life, and sink fathoms deep, to the seabed, where it lies, half-sunken in the sand, no longer a danger, barely recognisable for what it once was, so covered is it, in the corals of time.
I will be forever grateful to Al-Anon, and to my first sponsor, who had the courage to be the first person ever to gently suggest that the past wasn't clutching me, I was clutching the past.
Later, she would tell me that she'd wondered for a long moment if she'd overstepped herself when she said that, because she could tell by the deep breath I took in, that I was terrifically offended. And I was. I turned the conversation to other things, she acquiesed, and a rather shaky peace was restored between us.
A fundamental truth of that sort, is akin to those cockeburrs which stick tenaciously to a knitted garment; one may be able to remove most of it, but there always seems to be that one piece woven between the fibers that will not be dislodged. So it was with that remark by my sponsor, and it poked and prickled and drove me to distraction.
The next time we had dinner at her house, to meet and talk and work program together, I mustered my courage and asked her to explain further what she'd meant. That was a beginning of my slowly (excruciatingly slowly) moving toward an understanding of how I was not a victim of my past, but rather of my own character defects. I wasn't the maimed and scarred creature, buffeted by life, I'd thought myself; I was an active participant.
That was a rude awakening. In one fell swoop, there went all my justification of present-day bad behavior "because I'd had a hard time of it as a kid."
Pain is relative: we all have a hard time of it as a kid, in our own ways, it's just that some of us (and I wasn't one of these) can let go of the past, and move forward into the future. If I thought about that at all, it was to believe that it was because they hadn't had it as rough as I had, it never dawned upon me that this was a choice they made each day.
By the time I reached Step Seven:
"Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."
for the first time, I had the tiniest of inklings of what that might mean for me, and I wanted it passionately. When I did my first working of the Steps, I had the common idea that I'd do them once, I'd be fixed, and life would be grand. I didn't realise I was starting a life-long process of two steps forward, one step back. Now, years later, I'm quite comfortable with that most days - move forward, get stuck, wallow, wriggle, squirm, fight free, lunge forward in a burst of understanding, trip, do a face-plant...it's all good, all of it.
I was in my late twenties when I came into program, and I was still obsessed with what had been done to me as a child. I was furious, resentful and a victim par excellence - I had my passport to victimhood in my childhood. Werefit were suggested that I take responsibility for my behaviors, I'd whip my abusive childhood out and wave it - a free pass to behave poorly. I had, or so I thought, the ultimate excuse.
Every now and then I wonder who I'd be were it not for this incredible program of self-improvement, and I shudder a bit, because I have a fairly good idea - I'd just be an older, more rigid, more solid version of myself when new to Al-Anon. Still sunk in misery, still taking out that excuse book every single day and reading it, feeling almost the same pain and rage, as I had when the actual events occured. Many more years of my life would have passed, and I still wouldn't have been able to enjoy my time here on earth.
Al-Anon has been a life-giver to me. The wisdom of Twelve Steps has allowed me to let go of the past, to let it slip beneath the surface of my daily life, and sink fathoms deep, to the seabed, where it lies, half-sunken in the sand, no longer a danger, barely recognisable for what it once was, so covered is it, in the corals of time.
I will be forever grateful to Al-Anon, and to my first sponsor, who had the courage to be the first person ever to gently suggest that the past wasn't clutching me, I was clutching the past.
Later, she would tell me that she'd wondered for a long moment if she'd overstepped herself when she said that, because she could tell by the deep breath I took in, that I was terrifically offended. And I was. I turned the conversation to other things, she acquiesed, and a rather shaky peace was restored between us.
A fundamental truth of that sort, is akin to those cockeburrs which stick tenaciously to a knitted garment; one may be able to remove most of it, but there always seems to be that one piece woven between the fibers that will not be dislodged. So it was with that remark by my sponsor, and it poked and prickled and drove me to distraction.
The next time we had dinner at her house, to meet and talk and work program together, I mustered my courage and asked her to explain further what she'd meant. That was a beginning of my slowly (excruciatingly slowly) moving toward an understanding of how I was not a victim of my past, but rather of my own character defects. I wasn't the maimed and scarred creature, buffeted by life, I'd thought myself; I was an active participant.
That was a rude awakening. In one fell swoop, there went all my justification of present-day bad behavior "because I'd had a hard time of it as a kid."
Pain is relative: we all have a hard time of it as a kid, in our own ways, it's just that some of us (and I wasn't one of these) can let go of the past, and move forward into the future. If I thought about that at all, it was to believe that it was because they hadn't had it as rough as I had, it never dawned upon me that this was a choice they made each day.
By the time I reached Step Seven:
"Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."
for the first time, I had the tiniest of inklings of what that might mean for me, and I wanted it passionately. When I did my first working of the Steps, I had the common idea that I'd do them once, I'd be fixed, and life would be grand. I didn't realise I was starting a life-long process of two steps forward, one step back. Now, years later, I'm quite comfortable with that most days - move forward, get stuck, wallow, wriggle, squirm, fight free, lunge forward in a burst of understanding, trip, do a face-plant...it's all good, all of it.
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