Paying Attention

When I was looking for my first house I ‘knew’ which house it was from the time I saw it. It was a small cottage looking over the lake and it was ‘perfect’. I was in the village to look at a house with an agent. He mentioned another place that wasn’t listed on the market but whose owner was looking to sell ‘if the price was right’. I ‘knew’ that this was the house when he drove into the driveway. There’s a spot just below the sternum where I ‘felt’ it, and I ‘knew’. Two months later I was sitting on the deck of that house looking out over Lake Erie, a view that I would relish for the next nine years.

I got the same feeling one morning about seven years ago when I woke up one morning and I ‘knew’ that something had to give. My world was crumbling before me. I was losing the battle. I could feel it in that same place, just below the sternum. My guts were telling me that the show was over. I needed to make changes or I would be heading down a path I ‘knew’ I did not wish to tread.

I have no idea if everyone has that place in their body where they ‘know’.  It’s hard to describe. It’s almost as if knowledge becomes a physical sensation in the body. I’ve had this sensation various times in my life and I know now that it is one of the ways my Higher Power speaks to me. I suppose it had to be this way for me to pay attention. I wasn’t the most intuitive and sensing person.

Learning to listen, to follow one’s intuition is not easy, especially at first. When I began my journey in recovery, my thinking wasn’t my greatest asset: a good reason for me to work with my sponsor, go to meetings and listen. Going through the process of the steps I began to fathom the depths of what it really meant to ‘turn my will and my life over to the care of my Higher Power, a ‘God of my understanding’. And, if I’ve really done this, it only makes sense that he would communicate with me, right? How else will I know what my next step is to be? Slowly my trust of those feelings began to grow. I’ve learned that the more connected I am with myself and my Higher Power, the more aware I am of my intuition. I’m learning to pay attention to what’s happening around me.

It’s not always that physical sensation; it doesn’t have to be now. Most days I start off with a prayer. Most days I write. Most days I go to a meeting. These are the things that maintain my spiritual condition that keeps me in recovery. I’m able to see the patterns in my life and the mosaic of this world and I marvel. My life continues to evolve and morph into new experiences because I am open to them, I take the time to listen. I truly am grateful for my life today.

Leave the Drama Behind

When I was in my disease it was so easy to be the barstool philosopher, solving the enigmas of the worlds of religion, politics and people. Through tyraids, tears and sometimes both, I fought for my beliefs and ideals in order to create a utopian world. “We need to…” “We ought to…” “I’m going to…” Of course, I needn’t finish the phrases because they were as empty as my resulting actions. Nothing ever came of it. The next morning I would be in such a fog that I would be more interested in an immediate hangover cure, if I remembered anything at all, that is. And soon I would be onto my first of the day and a repeat of the vicious downward spiral I had fallen into.

In recovery I can leave all of that outside drama behind me. Initially, just staying clean and sober was my focus. It didn’t matter what was whirling around in the world, it was all I could do not to start again. I went to plenty of meetings, talked to other members and read our literature. Gradually the drama toned down. Once I stopped, I had money to pay my bills. I did the work I was supposed to do; I started to become a responsible person and my life became more manageable. I slowly began to see that the huge problems I thought were insurmountable were actually a result of my using. The people around me suddenly became more reasonable, even personable. Stop the drugs and alcohol and my life calmed down substantially.

Take away the drama and my life became more balanced. Oh I still have bouts of mania and depression, but the swings aren’t so broad: I’m more centred in my self, my relationships and my world. Things aren’t so extreme. It’s not the ‘absolute best’ or the ‘most dismal failure’. I can look at things in a reasonable perspective and see them for what they really are. If I find myself caught up in the tornado of life, a talk with my sponsor will often help to calm the winds. The Serenity Prayer reminds me of the little I can control and the rest? Well, I’m learning to let go of it.

The suspenseful drama slowly gave way to a melodrama and today it’s more of life adventure. I awaken refreshed most days, ready to face what life offers. I trust that I will make it through whatever comes my way. I know that I have the backing of my Higher Power and my recovery program. I try not to worry about tomorrow or fret about what happened in the past. Live in the moment. One day at a time.

 

There is a Season

There are times when I want to be loud and boisterous and the centre of attention.  At other times I retreat and I am quiet. Most of the time I am somewhere in between on the continuum of emotion. The past couple of weeks have been ones of retreat and reflection. I’ve been taking it a bit easy physically as I hurt my back and need to rest. I have learned as well that when something happens to me physically, there is always something on the spiritual side I need to take special care of as well. Oh I still do the necessary things and fulfill my commitments, but my interests in other things is not as keen as at other times.

More and more medicine is discovering that the physical disease is a result of how we think and feel. There is no separation between the body and the soul; they are entwined within the self. I’ve heard of the link between worry and stomach ulcers for years. But there’s also plenty of evidence to link depression with heart disease and anger with arthritis. Research is also showing that there is direct result between how quickly one recovers or is cured of a disease and one active participation in the cure.

I believe that my addiction is a direct result of not feeling connected with others and the world. The further I got into my addiction the less I was connected and the more I isolated myself from the world. Therefore it makes sense to me that my actively participating in reconnecting myself to the world around me will result in establishing and maintaining my recovery. The program of recovery is the twelve steps that help us to look at ourselves and bring us out of that self and to make contact again.

So, is my withdrawal from the world a sign of an immanent relapse? Am I going back to older behaviours of isolation? I don’t believe it is. I think it is just my body and spirit taking a break from what is going on about me to reflect on what has happened in the past year or so and to take stock of what worked and what didn’t, to do some introspection and review the lessons I’ve been given. I can use this time to look toward where I wish to go in the future; in order to write the next chapter I need to know what was written before or I’m likely to forget and repeat the same story over again.

To everything, there is a season, we are told. My back will heal and the mental rest will give me a fresh perspective on the next part of life. I know that spring will come. Body and spirit will heal together and trod on this journey.