“The Al-Anon program has helped me see that pleasing others over myself is no longer in my best interest.” ~The Forum, 8/19, Al-Anon Family Group, Conference Approved Literature
I’ve
always been a people pleaser. I wanted others to be happy, and I often
sacrificed something of my own to achieve that. Not always something obvious
like an object: my dessert, my jewelry, or my car. Usually it was much more
subtle so I wouldn’t take notice: my time, my opinions, even my values.
There was
a time when I was like a chameleon, but like the lizard I was usually afraid of
offending people. That’s why I made the “sacrifice.” But it was my integrity
that, over time, I lost.
In
recovery, I’ve learned to understand that people pleasing isn’t always a
healthy behavior. Often we lose ourselves in the process. My step work has
helped me get to know myself more honestly and like myself anyway. If I value
who I am, it’s easier to stick to my guns and not fear the consequences if
someone disagrees with me. The cost of losing myself to please others is
greater than the benefit of being who I am.
“‘The Chinese say that water is the most
powerful element, because it is perfectly nonresistant. It can wear away a rock
and sweep all before it.’ ~Florence Scovel Shinn
Nonresistance, ironically, may be a posture we
struggle with. Nonresistance means surrendering the ego absolutely. For many of
us, the ego, particularly disguised as false pride, spurred us on to struggle
after struggle. ‘Can’t they see I’m right?’ we moaned, and our resistance only
created more of itself. Conversely, flowing with life, ‘bubbling’ with the
ripples, giving up our ego, releases from us an energy that heals the
situation—that smoothes the negative vibrations in our path. Peace comes to us.
We will find serenity each time we willingly humble ourselves.
‘Resistance is more familiar. Nonresistance means growth and peace. I’ll try for serenity today.’”
It is very hard to accept life on life’s terms. When I faced a heartbreaking situation in my daughter, I fought tooth and nail to free her of the addiction that had taken hold of her. And I was stubborn; I persisted. For several years, I resisted.
But I learned that my power in her struggle was limited. And I needed to surrender my ego and my will to the power of my God. And have faith—a deeply held faith that everything in my life is unfolding as it was meant to.
“When working the steps we are
never in doubt about the manner for proceeding in any situation. The steps
provide the parameters that secure our growth. They help us to see where we’ve
been and push us toward the goals which crowd our dreams.”
Many times in recovery meetings people refer to us all as
shipwrecked human beings. I like that metaphor because it reminds me that we
are all together on that ship, all part of the same human race, triumphing
sometimes, often struggling, but together. We are never alone.
But there is much division around the topic of addiction. Much
of the problem arises from semantics: is addiction an illness that strikes,
like cancer, without permission? Or is it a moral failing? That simple question
lends itself to hours of discussion; whole books have been written about it;
bloggers have exhausted themselves going back and forth in the argument. I used
to enthusiastically participate, certain that I was making valid points here
and there.
It’s the “here and there” that finally derailed me as I was
hyperventilating on this fast-moving train of rhetoric. In the final analysis,
does it really matter what it is? Getting caught up in all the arguments just
kept me from putting my focus where it belonged. I needed to get back to
self-care. And stepping back. And taking a breath.
How we navigate our lives together on that ship is as varied as
the shells in the ocean. Twelve-Step work has a lot in common with many other
forms of spiritual recovery, some of them organized religions. I might well
have learned many of the principles elsewhere. I happened to learn them in
Al-Anon. But this recovery program doesn’t have a lock on the ideas of
acceptance of things we can’t change, or on surrender to something bigger and
smarter than we are. Those ideas are found in many places. I go out of my way
to avoid the “R” word, but don’t we all seek peace and serenity in our troubled
world?
The tools we use strive toward the same goal. When I try to keep
my eye on the ball, I don’t get embroiled in discussion that leads nowhere. We
need not be divided. We all pray for the same miracles, the health and wellness
of ourselves and our loved ones. When I remember that, I feel as though we are
all part of the same solution.
An
old timer with 40 years of sobriety had a dream. In it, his first sponsor, who
passed years before, appeared. The old-timer, seizing the opportunity, asked
him one question: ‘Is there AA in Heaven?’
‘Well
Jim,’ his first sponsor replied, ‘there’s good news and bad news. The good news
is yes, AA meetings are held in heaven. The bad news is, you’re chairing this
Saturday.’” ~Marty Z., Palm Bay, Florida
“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!
“I’ve heard some people condense the activities of spiritual
life into these words: quiet the mind; open the heart. In encouraging myself to
expand my understanding of prayer and meditation, I like to recall those
suggestions.”
