Make Me Teachable

There are many paths to get to where we want to go in life. There’s not necessarily only one road to get to where you are going, rather many options. What makes the difference between those who achieve their goals and those who don’t make it is, I believe, attitude. Human resource professionals say that given a choice, they will choose a candidate with a positive, eager attitude over one with more skills and education.  Someone with a good attitude who is willing to listen and learn can be taught the skills of a job, make it their own and thrive in their work environment.

When the addict is ready, the recovery program will appear.

It is my attitude that determines the happiness, joy and freedom that I will experience in recovery. It’s up to me to choose to do the work of the steps or not. Meetings and sponsors can invite me to do the work, but it is my attitude toward change, trying new ways of approaching life and the people around me that will carry me through. If I don’t think I can do it, I won’t. Like Yoda’s advice to Luke in Star Wars, “Do or do not, there is not try.” I have to put myself all-in-there if I am going to make it.

Achieving a positive attitude toward life requires humility: teachability. It’s realizing that I don’t know everything, I don’t have all the answers. It’s listening to people speak at meetings and relating to their experience, strength and hope. And it’s applying what we have learned to our own lives.

I remember a speaker say that at most meetings the 70-20-10 rule applies. Seventy percent of the time people share good solid material that can be applied at some point in the future. Twenty percent of the time what is being shared has you at the edge of your seat because it is exactly what you need to hear right at this moment. And ten percent of the time, he said, it’s an opportunity to practice patience and tolerance. The funny thing is what’s a 20% moment for me, might be a 10% moment for the fellow sitting beside me. I don’t ever remember a meeting where I didn’t come away with something useful.

You can lead an addict to a meeting but you can’t make him recover.

Going to meetings is part of my program of recovery. I followed the recommendation of 90 meetings in 90 days in early recovery and it helped to develop a positive attitude and a yearning to work the Twelve Steps of the program. I discovered that I had a lot in common with the addict with six months sitting beside me or the alcoholic with 15 years across from me. I learned that I didn’t have to invent new ways of dealing with life on life’s terms; I could use the tools that others happily shared at meetings to create a path to where I want to go in life: living in the solution.

 

As I Am

I am always amazed at how much we try to impress others. We think we have to dress a particular way, drive a special car, live in an upscale neighbourhood, speak in a certain way or dress in the newest fashions. We have a need to make ourselves appear more than what we are. I think it goes beyond ego to something instinctual; a need to show off and impress, sort of like the mating rituals of birds or the rutting contests of rams.

Life doesn’t have to be such as contest, It can be absolutely wonderful when I keep it simple. Some of the best meals I’ve eaten have been well prepared good food eaten in great company. The beauty of a sunset or the gait of a majestic horse are simple, plain and yet very memorable. A walk with a friend by a river or a stroll through a park can give me peace of mind. And these are all simple, unadorned things. I don’t need to impress. I am perfect just the way I am.

It’s taken a long time to get to this point in my life. And I admit that I can easily slip back into old habits of ‘dress to impress’, or ‘be there or be square!’ But I’ve learned that most people aren’t thinking about me; they’re wondering about what others are thinking about them! Like the young boy whistling in the dark, trying to convince himself that he’s not afraid, we strut and pose hoping that people won’t notice that we might not ‘fit in’ with the ‘in’ crowd. In recovery, I’m discovering that perhaps I don’t want to fit in, and that the in crowd is way out of where I want to be.

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind” Dr. Seuss

I’m learning in the program to become right sized. I need to keep my ego in check; I am neither more nor less than who I am. I need not impress others. I am fine just the way I am: a human being trying to be whole and authentic. If others don’t like the direction I’m heading, that’s fine. I’m not responsible for what others think and say about me. I’m learning to let that go.

Today I prefer simple. I like honest. I seek knowledge. What I drive, where I live or who I hang out with are no longer my priorities. Yes, I prefer certain things in life, but they don’t make my life. I could lose them all tomorrow and I will still be just fine. I am learning to carry with me the memories and the lessons of life that never fall out of fashion. I am grateful.

Peace

Progress, not Perfection

Last week I sneezed rather forcefully and my back went out. There went the weekend plans out the window. I was forced to make changes. It was not the first time it happened and fortunately, I have a small ‘TENS’ unit which I can use to send electrical impulses across my lower back and a good ice pack. Using them alternatively helps to ease the discomfort. Regardless, I know from experience that I need to do two things. First, I need to relax and take it easy, resting horizontally for a couple of day. Second, I need to look at why this happened, asking myself what are the physical and spiritual components to this occurrence.

I have come to learn from my own disease of addiction that I am an interconnected: when the body is in pain, so is the soul, and visa versa. I admire societies where a shaman is called who works with the body and the soul to promote healing. Western society separates the role of the doctor and the priest: medicine and spirituality are kept apart. Like my addiction, I know if there is a physical component, there is also a spiritual one. When something is wrong with the body there is something wrong with the soul and the soul-sickness usually develops before the bodily one.

Looking back I can see I put myself under stress physically (more intense gym workouts) and spiritually (holiday preparation, work and not keeping up with my program of meditation-journaling). I believe both of these resulted in my back deciding to go on vacation, forcing me to change some plans, slow down and get back to basics.

I am grateful that I have a recovery program to turn to. I am grateful that I have learned to see the signs, sometimes even before the physical torture of a lower back spasm. My spine is like a river with its electrical impulses flowing up and down. I can dam the flow and when I do that, I cause problems. And like the river, it takes time to take apart the pieces of the dam that restrict the flow but gradually it returns to normal.

These few days have given me time to catch up on reading, writing and appreciating the health that I do have. They have been a reminder to me how important it is to keep up my program and the short distance between ease and dis-ease. The steps of my recovery program require that I live them. They are not a checklist that I can forget about once finished; they require a daily recommitment to keep them fresh and alive.

I know this, and yet I still let things slide once in a while. I am grateful that this is a program of progress and not perfection: one day at a time. Our goal isn’t becoming saints, rather pilgrims enjoying the journey of life with others. I am grateful that I can now recognize when that’s not happening and that I have the tools to put me back on that path. Maybe next time I will recognize it before I can’t get out of bed in the morning.

Peace.pexels-photo-261415.jpeg