“The
universe is run exactly on the lines of a cafeteria. Unless you
claim—mentally—what you want, you may sit and wait forever.” ~Emmet Fox
Fear has
always kept me from asking for what I want. But the older I get, the less I
care about rejection. Living fully means facing that on a regular basis. And I
always learn something. Maybe I learn that my request was ill-timed or
inappropriate. Other times I might learn that I asked for just the right thing,
but it was denied. I can spend hours ruminating on why it was denied, driving
myself batty. Or I can accept that things worked out differently, and let it
go. My energy is better spent on other things I have control over now.
That’s
important. Because wasting my energy on things I can’t do anything about saps
my strength—strength I need to stay in recovery.
“How I
relate to my inner self influences my relationships with all others. My
satisfaction with myself and my satisfaction with other people are directly
proportional. ~Sue Atchley Ebaugh
I grew up
with two hypercritical parents. The negativity, of course, affected me
profoundly, and I was saddled with low self-worth and self-esteem issues. And
though I recognize that I’m an adult child of an alcoholic, I no longer have to
view my life through the eyes of a child.
My
recovery program has opened my eyes and presented me with new perspectives. My
father had problems of his own, and my mother, an untreated Al-Anon, suffered
as she tried to cope with him. The children in such a dysfunctional family are
bound to be affected in adverse ways. That’s why they call it “a family
disease.”
Learning
to re-parent myself with compassion and understanding is a task for many of us
adult children. And as I continue to view my life through a different lens, my
inner self blossoms. In turn my self-acceptance reflects itself in those around
me as I cease to criticize.
The best
reward of self-love, I think, is that it’s a magnet for others. No more
loneliness and isolation. As I learn to treat myself with love and respect,
those positive feelings are mirrored in all of my relationships. Life is good!
“One receives only that which one is given. The game of life is a game of boomerangs. Our thoughts, deeds, and words, return to us sooner or later, with astounding accuracy.” ~Florence Skovel Shin
It gives
me pause to remember that. On a bad day, when I’m mean or resentful, I can
count on those feelings hitting me on the back of my head. And that makes me
think twice about it. But, being only human, I don’t; I just react. Now I’m
learning to slow down and think before I act because I know there will be
consequences. The wonderful thing about my recovery program is that I’ve
learned how to make amends on a regular basis. When I give in to my worst
impulses and turn mean toward my partner, for example, the awareness God has
given me lets me stop in my tracks, turn around and tell him I’m sorry. It’s
such a simple act of kindness, but before recovery I didn’t have the awareness
it takes to recognize when I mess up. Now I try harder in all of my
relationships.
I’ve heard
it said that ours is a disease of relationships, and that truth is so clear to
me as I see mine improve, one by one, when I apply the tools of the program to
my life. Al-Anon’s Tenth Step, “Continued to take personal inventory and when
we were wrong promptly admitted it,” has been a lifesaver for me. I’ve been
humbled and joyful to be part of a community of equals. We’re all in the same
boat, struggling to survive on the same stormy sea. And often I need help when
it’s my turn to steer the ship. When I humbly accept that help, and when I open
my mind and accept that being wrong—and rectifying it—might teach me a valuable
lesson, my boat moves ahead on smooth waters.
Gene and I are over seventy. I guess that makes us officially “old.” But we’re not. Except for the arthritis that’s hurts most days, we’re still very active and engaged in our community. But we were tested a few days ago when we went hiking around Mt. Baker.
On our last day, we went on a hike without reading about it first. Heliotrope Ridge took a while to get to by car. But the views of Mt. Baker made it worth it. We were so uplifted by the calm beauty all around us that we were inspired to stay there and go hiking. But we should have read the book first.
It was grueling from the beginning. A hiker on the way back gave me hope: “This is the worst part!”
I thought she meant just this stretch, but I soon found out she meant the whole two miles in. Mostly up.
Gene and I walk almost every day. Nice relaxing flat walks on our beach or along the peaceful road on Camano Island. But we can’t do much elevation, certainly not 1200 feet. I have COPD and his lungs are even more shot than mine.
It took us a long time, but we made it. I was pretty miserable huffing and puffing all the way up, and so was he. Even coming down I was in a bad mood, this time complaining about my knees and my broken toe.
Well, I learned the difference between happiness and joy. I was not happy by the surface discomforts of going on a strenuous hike. But I came away feeling joyful: joyful that I pushed ahead without turning back; joyful that I accomplished something difficult; and most of all, joyful that I could dig deeper into my core and convert a challenge into a valuable lesson.
What did I learn? That I’m stronger than I thought I was. And I still have lots of living and growing to do.
“As I release my resentments, I can extend compassion to the
alcoholics in my life. I can love myself enough to love them too, even though I
hate the disease that hurts us both.
I become so full of love and compassion that I can’t keep it
bottled up inside. I need to share it with others. My compassion becomes the
healing light of my Higher Power shining through me to welcome and comfort
other friends and family members of alcoholics.”
“Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the
other person to die.” I have observed how anger and resentment have made people
I know sick. So I’ve never forgotten this quote that I picked up in the rooms.
Whenever I start to feel burdened with resentment towards someone, my blood
pressure goes up and I lose my serenity. That’s when I make an effort to shed
it like a dog’s coat in the summer. The dog is much cooler and I feel lighter!
“’It seems to me that I have always been waiting for
something better—sometimes to see the best I had always snatched from me.’
~Dorothy Reed Mendenhall
Gratitude for what is prepares us for the blessings just
around the corner. What is so necessary to understand is that our wait for
what’s around the corner closes our eyes to the joys of the present moment…We
can, each of us, look back on former days, realizing that we learned too late
the value of a friend or an experience…When we detach from the present and wait
for tomorrow…we are stunting our spiritual growth. Life can only bless us now,
one breath at a time.”
Attitude is everything in my life. I have losses. Everyone
does. I can waste time regretting the past or projecting into an uncertain
future. Today I can keep my feet planted on the ground and open my eyes. This
is how I choose to live. My recovery program has assured me that I will always
have choices, and I can only try to do the next right thing.
“True recovery takes place when I step out on faith and
carry out…new behavior. Then I know a small portion of me has grown. When I
take action based on introspection and meditation, I push my recovery
boundaries further. I know if I keep on this path I will always keep
growing…Outward action must follow inner work to truly take root in my life.”
Insight into ourselves is valuable, but unless we do the
footwork to change what may be necessary, our insight isn’t enough. Just for
today I will try to grow toward the light.
“’Life is patchwork—here and there, pleasure and despair,
Joined together, hit or miss.’ ~Anne Bronaugh
As you look ahead to this day, you can count on unexpected
experiences. You can count on moments of laughter. And you can count on twinges
of fear. Life is seldom what we expect, but we can trust that we will survive
the rough times. They will, in fact, soften our edges. Pleasure and pain share
equally in the context of our lives.
We so easily forget that our growth comes from the
challenges we label “problems.” We do
have the tools at hand to reap the benefits inherent in the problems that may
face us today. Let us move gently forward, take the program with us, and watch
the barriers disappear.”
If we remain steeped in sorrow, are we receptive to joy? If
all goes well for us, are we prepared for the valleys? There will always be a
mix of both in our lives. The trick is to find a balance and not be overwhelmed
by either emotion. To be able to say, “Okay today was not a good day, but I’m
confident tomorrow will be a good day.”
“’An element of recovery is learning that we deserve
success, the good things that come to us, and also that pain is a reality. We
have the strength to deal with that reality, and it will pass.’ ~Dudley
Martineau
Many of us didn’t understand the changing variables in being
human. Our coping skills were at a minimum until we discovered what alcohol or
pills, even food, could do for us. And then, a drink or two—or six, maybe—got
us through many a lonely evening.
The desire for an easy solution might still haunt us, but
time, new experiences, and program friends have taught us that our past habits
weren’t really easy solutions. In reality they increased our problems and led us
nowhere.”
Some of us who love addicts have found comfort in substances
ourselves. But when I make an effort to walk the spiritual path I have chosen,
I no longer seek those easy solutions. As they say in the rooms, “My best
thinking got me here.” I need to remember that and cease thinking that I have
the best answers. Putting my faith in something greater than myself, I can let
go of my human frailties. And all will be well.
“The
circumstances of our lives seldom live up to our expectations or desires.
However, in each circumstance we are offered an opportunity for growth or
change, a chance for greater understanding of life’s heights and pitfalls. Each
time we choose to lament what isn’t, we close the door on the invitation to a
better existence…
The
experiences we are offered will fail to satisfy our expectations because we
expect so much less than God has planned for us in the days ahead…
I will
breathe deeply and relax. At this moment my every need is being attended to. My
life is unfolding exactly as it should.”
I’ve
wrestled with my faith most of my life, always too self-reliant for my own
good. But as I’ve watched my daughter succumb to heroin addiction, it has been
a great comfort to me to learn how to harness a newfound belief in the power of
something outside of myself, something I can turn to in my despair and know
that something beautiful will come out of it. And it has: my whole life, and
how I choose to live it now, is a miracle.
