Recovery of the Spirit
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From Each Day A New Beginning, April 8:
“’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.”
I have found that when I look for joy, I find it.
From Each Day A New Beginning, April 11:
“’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.
From Each Day A New Beginning, November 24:
“’If onlys are lonely.’ ~Morgan Jennings
“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.
“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, but only saps todays of its strength.” ~A.J. Cronin
Wow, it takes tremendous discipline to stay grounded in the present. To live “just for today.” On any given day, how do my thoughts wander back to past times, and the inevitable regrets that crop up from time to time? And if I’m not looking backwards, I’m projecting into a future that hasn’t even happened yet. This is natural for some of us who have an addicted loved one. It’s called “anticipatory grief,” and it’s meant to prepare us for the worst.
And though it may be a way to soften future blows, the act of being there in a sad future keeps me from smelling the roses under my nose. Today the sun came up over the mountain and last night there was a beautiful crescent moon. My friend has pneumonia and I’m going to take her flowers in the hospital. I’m reminded to be grateful for my good health. My friends and family in our recovery program are a great comfort to me as I move forward in my life.
When I remember to stay focused on the present day and all the blessings that fill my days, I can step out with confidence and faith in my Higher Power, assured that all is well.
W
From Sharing Experience, Strength and Hope, p. 329:
“Myself, I can change. Others I can only love.”
Once upon a time I thought, because I loved my daughter, it was my responsibility to change her for her own good. How could I not? Her choices were killing her. Then I learned that she had a brain disease and the cure was out of my reach.
Out of my reach.
So I learned to let go and detach, but always with love.
Serenity is the gift I give myself when I let go and let God.
N
“When I read a step and think about it deeply, I find it opens the door to new insights. When I read that same step again, it reveals new spiritual ideas. They seem to dig into our consciousness and unearth for us the wonderful potential for good in all our relationships with life.” ~One Day At a Time in Al-Anon, pg.141
I’ve heard it said that Al-Anon offers answers to heal many troubled relationships. Those of us in the recovery program share many of the same qualities: being affected by another person’s addiction. So how have I been affected?
By having a strong desire to control those around me. Growing up in emotional chaos, I needed to maintain the illusion of control to survive. But carrying that desire with me into adulthood too often became a defect. Examining my motives in some situations has helped me let go of the powerful need I had to be in charge. I’ve learned to let go of things that are not mine to hold onto.
Just loosen them in my hands as though they were the reins on my horse. And keep moving forward.
From Each Day A New Beginning, February 19:
“’God knows no distance.’ ~Charleszetta Waddles
Relying on God, however we understand God’s presence, is foreign to many of us. We were encouraged from early childhood to be self-reliant. Even when we desperately needed another’s help, we feared asking for it. When confidence wavered, as it so often did, we hid the fear—sometimes with alcohol, sometimes with pills, Sometimes we simply hid at home. Our fears never fully abated…Slowly and with practice it will become natural to turn within, to be God-reliant rather than self-reliant
There’s a joke in the Program that “our best thinking got us here (into the rooms of recovery).” And it’s so true! I joke at meetings that I’ve always been “CSR,” compulsively self-reliant.” I have been for much of my life, afraid to ask for help and even more afraid to accept it. As a child I had to rely on myself for so many things, and that became a survival strategy. But as an adult, that very façade of strength can become a terrible defect. Appearing as a formidable wall of arrogance, it only served to isolate me and separate me from my peers. I had to tear down that wall.
And when I did, when I found the courage to bare my fears and vulnerabilities and ask for help when I needed it, I found my humanity. My faith in a power greater than myself enabled me to let go of my self-reliance and join hands with others as we reached out and helped one another.
It hasn’t removed the problems from my life. But it has made facing them so much easier.
“These are the only genuine ideas, the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce.” Jose Ortega y Gasset taken from Richard Rohr’s book Breathing Under Water
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.
How we navigate our lives together on that ship is as varied as the shells in the ocean. But 12-Step work has a lot in common with many other forms of spiritual recovery, some of them organized religions. 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.
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.
From Opening Our Hearts, Transforming Our Losses, p. 169:
“I’m still grieving, but the despair is gone.”
“I am learning that though I grieve incredibly for the loss of my ———- (fill in the blank), I don’t have to drown in that pain.”
Before getting into recovery, I wasn’t aware of the tools available to all of us to cope with the inevitable disappointments in life.
No one had explained to me the concept of letting go of people and situations that I had no control over. This is huge because the continual battle of my will to change the unchangeable was exhausting and taking a toll on me more than the person I was hoping to change.
The regular practice of gratitude has gifted me with a perspective on my own life, simply focusing on my blessings and keeping them in the forefront of my mind.
Surrendering to a greater being than I am for guidance and faith is so basic. And I believe absolutely that no matter what happens in my life, all will be well.
These are but three of the tools the program has given me. And when I pick them up and use them, no matter what sadness I must deal with, the despair is lifted and I have hope.
Happy (early) Fourth of July, everyone! This year I’m celebrating sixteen years of freedom and independence from the disease that affects so many of us. God Bless!
