Common Denominators - Rigidity

 In which areas am I rigid? What are my "rules?"  Rules are different for each of us, and can range from "Don't complain" to "Dishes must be arranged in the dishwasher in this order" to "Don't let the dog up on the furniture" to "A good friend would never do _____" to "When gardening, always deadhead before watering." It can be an interesting experiment to try to figure out as many of our rules as possible, then begin to work to let them go.

I was raised by a ferociously rigid adoptive mother who enforced her many rules and regulations with physical abuse. It wasn't until I had some time in Al-Anon that I gained an understanding that her rigidity was powered by fear - she lived in a constant state of fear. She'd had a hard childhood herself, had learned that the world and the people in it were not to be trusted, and as an adult, tried to cope with her fear by coming up with rules to cover any and every eventuality.

I didn't want to be anything like her, but I'd been well-trained into the idea that there's only one right way to do something, (and that when I became an adult, I could make up my own rules and enforce them) so it was a long hard haul uphill to try to change this way of thinking. Before I could begin to change it, I needed to understand which feelings drove it, and the purpose it served.

The feelings behind most of my rules were/are: fear, and a desire for control. If it's not one, it's the other, and  I've expended much energy trying to make the various alcoholics in my life follow my many rules. (Good luck on that one.) When I catch myself being rigid, I've learned to stop, investigate what my feeling is, why has it arisen, what do I believe will happen if my rule isn't followed to the letter, and can I choose to let this go?

So many of the things that I once believed should be done my way have been repeatedly proven to be equally as successful if done someone else's way. It doesn't matter one bit how they are done, as long as they get done. Muddling through works fine most times. There's very little in most of our lives that needs to be done precisely. This isn't rocket science, brain surgery, or computer programming.

Seems like I'm always discovering new areas in which I need to let go. Whenever I hear myself using the word "should" in a sentence, I know I need to stop and take a good look at that thought process - "should" or "shouldn't" has become a red flag for me. Much of my martyrdom was about other people refusing to follow my rules. How dare they? My first sponsor suggested a better question might be, "Why would they?"



The more I can let go, the more serenity I find. The plants don't care if I water before deadheading, or afterwards. They have a few basic needs, and as long as those are met, they will thrive. I too, have only a few basic needs. I too, can thrive if I choose to.

Word Verification

I've turned this off, after having it pointed out how maddening it can be to try posting a comment with it on. My apologies to all of you who've struggled with this - I've had difficulty seeing those sideways wiggle-words clearly, myself. I set it as "on" long ago when I started this blog, and promptly forgot all about it.

It's grey and drizzling today, but it's the night of my home group meeting, and that always permeates my Fridays with a pleasurable sense of anticipation.

From today's reading (March 9) in Courage to Change:

"Everything I do and everything that crosses my path - people, situations, ideas - all have the potential to contribute to my growth and understanding. Just for today, I don't have to know what that contribution will be."

Common Denominators - Quixotic & Querulous.

Great word, quixotic; my dictionary defines it as: "impulsive and often rashly unpredictable." and "querulous"  is defined as: "full of complaints; complaining." 

Both accurate descriptions of who I was when I was new to Al-Anon. I would be swept by an emotion - fear, or anger -  act whilst in the heat of emotion, without stopping to consider the potential outcomes, and then later, when faced with the results of my rash decisions, I would complain. To anyone and everyone. In detail, at great length, and with no understanding of the reality that I'd once again put myself into an untenable position.

It can be painful, lonely, or just uncomfortable to "sit with a feeling," and many of us in Al-Anon will do just about anything to avoid this. In this way we are akin to the alcoholics, who douse their feelings with the anesthetising effect of alcohol - we often use action of some sort to relieve or escape our feelings.

I have learned in 12-Step, to use actions which don't compound the problem. Instead of staying and provoking an argument, I will go for a long fast walk with the dogs, work in the garden, clean house, do something requiring a fair bit of physical effort - this works for me, calms me down, and allows me to vent my feelings harmlessly. I don't make decisions when I'm upset or annoyed, because I've learned that I don't have good judgement at those times. It may feel immensely satisfying to behave immaturely, but it doesn't last, and I don't want to be creating any more wreckage in my life. I want to behave with dignity, maturity and compassion.  This requires that I be willing to feel my feelings, and wait out my own emotional response.

I'm no longer a champion complainer, because in order to complain, I had to be willing to view myself as a victim. I don't see myself that way anymore. I know I have choices in some areas, and no control in many others; that knowledge simplifies my life.

Today, I love myself enough not to act foolishly in order to avoid my feelings. I love others enough not to subject them to hours of complaint.

Heaven In A Fabric Store.

A friend and I took the ferry over to the mainland yesterday, and went shopping in the city - it was great fun. My friend took me to a huge fabric store with so many bolts of material and every notion imaginable, from thread to lace to silly wigs, that our few hours spent there barely scratched the surface of their inventory. It was wonderful. Then we went to a specialty cheese store, ate lunch at a Greek restaurant, did some more shopping, and took the ferry back home to our island.

The trip over was smooth sailing; the trip home was a little nerve-wracking.  I've ridden on these boats for 30 years back and forth to the mainland, and last night was the very first time I've had even the slightest feeling of nervousness. These are not small ferries, they're huge boats which are "over 130 metres long, and can carry 362 vehicles, and 1500 passengers, travelling at 22 knots" according to the website. I've been lucky, and hadn't yet experienced as rough a sailing as we had last night; the restaurant and elevators closed down shortly after we got out into open water, and passengers were asked to remain in their seats unless they had to use the washrooms. We were sitting in a bank of seats near the gift shop, which closed down at the same time as the food service - items were crashing off shelves onto the floor.

The boat was rolling from side to side, now and again smashing down into a wave with a report your could hear all over the vessel - WHAM! I was grateful for the darkness, as it made it difficult to see just how much of a roll we were experiencing - that is, until I said to my friend, "Oh, look at the moon" and just as we did look, it disappeared from the window frame at the top, then reappeared and was quite far down the window when it began its next ascent. We started to laugh, and agreed not to look at the moon anymore, because doing so made it possible to gauge the depth of the sideways roll. I had one moment of nausea at a particularly deep rolling motion, but other than that, we kept ourselves occupied talking about anything that came to mind. I've never before been quite so grateful to reach the dock.

When we went down to the car deck, all the vehicles were thickly covered in salt spray, so much so that it took a fair bit of washer fluid to clean the windscreen.

A wild ride, but a safe arrival.

It was blowing a bit of snow during the drive home, but today is glorious - sunny and warm, with no hint of snow anywhere but on the far mountain tops.

I'm feeling peaceful, grateful, and serene. And I owe it all to Al-Anon.

Growing Pains.

Some realisations are joyous - we feel lifted up, connected to our Higher Power, eyes open to new possibilities, and bouncing with eager anticipation to get moving.

Some realisations hit with the force of a blow, and we "fall backwards onto a hard fact." Those are the ones for which I can have difficulty mustering gratitude. When I'm right in the midst of coming to an understanding about something firmly in the latter category, it's not only painful, it's disorienting; my perspective has been given enough of a knock to alter the appearance of almost everything in view.

These are the times during which I need to seek support and encouragement from my friends in Al-Anon. They lend an arm upon which I can lean while my eyesight adjusts to my new worldview. They can remind me that new perspective is always a good thing in the long run.  If I am as yet unable to find any way to believe that, I know that they believe it, and I'll go with that. Experience has taught me to take on faith, that which I don't have the inner resources to support on my own right now.

Life is good, and I will feel better. I know that much. I pray for gratitude, and for acceptance.

Common Denominators - Petulant

My dictionary defines petulant as: "irritable, impatient, or sullen." 

I have been all of these - irritable when my wants and needs were not being met, when another person was not responding favourably to my attempts to control them, when life has not been unfolding according to my expectations.

I've been impatient as I've waited for an outcome I wished to occur, for myself to fully grasp a new idea, (or put an old one into regular circulation instead of shoving it into storage and forgetting about it,) for the alcoholics in my life to gain understanding or display willingness.

I've been sullen when I haven't received that to which I think I am entitled or deserve, when boundaries laid down clearly by me are stomped upon and trampled by an alcoholic, when I believe that I am in the right, someone else is in the wrong, and no matter how much I ranted or hounded, I couldn't force them to agree with my interpretations.

My petulance has brought me nothing I want or need. Instead, it has sentenced me to many anxious hours of obsession, ridiculous imagined conversations with someone who is happily engaged elsewhere while I stew and fret, and a boiling dissatisfaction with my own life.

At one time, before Al-Anon, ( and many times afterwards, this has been a slow process)  I enjoyed feeling wronged, irritable and sullen. That attitude fed my self-pity, and justified my own bad behavior and negative attitudes. Just look at what I had to endure! No reasonable person would ____!

But I wasn't a reasonable person, that is the thing. I was a sullen and irritable snarled-up ball of rage and resentment. I spent so much time focusing upon what was going on around me that I had no chance to grow and mature. I was so intent upon changing other people, there was no time left to consider where I might be falling short.

To achieve forward movement in my recovery, to get that momentum in my program, I must focus upon the one person over whom I have some control - me. As long as I am engaged in a sullen enumeration of another's faults, I have lost my focus. When I am "rritable and unreasonable" I am robbing myself and my life of happiness and satisfaction.

When I catch myself engaged in old thinking, I can stop, take a moment, then ask my HP to remove this character defect of petulance, and grant me peace, instead. When I hear what I call the "opening bars" - thoughts about what someone else should not be doing, thinking or saying, I know that I am looking outward, taking someone else's inventory - I can turn instead to the areas of myself that are still in need of further investigation, and a good housecleaning. I pray for patience, tolerance, and peace.

Letting Go Of The String, Too.

Last night at coffee after the meeting, someone spoke of a kite analogy they'd heard used to describe the process of "letting go" - we must release not only the body of the kite itself, but also let go of the string. It does me no good to let the body of the kite rise away from me, if I've still got the string wrapped in a stranglehold around my neck.

This, as so often happens, is precisely what I most needed to hear right now. I've been watching myself trying to turn something over, and even though I sincerely desire the freedom I know I'll get when I achieve this, I can't quite manage to let go of that string. Or I let go, it falls from my hand to drag along the ground right in front of me, and I stoop to pick it up "just for a moment," and pretty soon, I'm in that same uncomfortable position of having my arm yanked up, with my shoulder aching from the constant pull.

Letting go of most of something, or almost letting go, or partly letting go, does not work.

I must release my (fearful) grasp, and watch the kite sail out of my reach, body, tail, string and all, come what may. I must be willing to lose sight of it completely, trusting that my HP will look after me. I must be willing to stop straining to see it - resolutely turn and walk in the opposite direction, opening my heart to gratitude. I pray for the willingness to relinquish my illusion of control. to let go of that string.