Action

Living the Dream

/ Tim / Leave a comment

Happy New Year. It’s like my mother said, as you get older, time moves more quickly! That seemed like a quick trip around the sun. But it was a good trip; a trip filled with lots of lessons and learning. I know it is just another day, but it’s the day of new beginnings for many. I am sure the rooms of recovery programs will again see an influx of newcomers. (My sponsor calls January the ‘prime recruitment month’.) I wish them well on their path to recovery.

A question came to my mind today: If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you be doing today? There are variations of the question out there. What are you knocking off the bucket list for this year? Are your affairs in order? Are you living your dreams?  For me though, it begs the question: So why aren’t you doing that now?

I’ve learned that life is full of twists and turns, just like the river. I don’t know what is around the corner. And yes, tomorrow may be my last day. Memento mori is the latin term for the practice of remembering our mortality: Remember that you have to die, is the translation. Life will not go on forever. It can end at any moment. This reminder could lead one into a blue funk, but for me it is a reminder of how precious life is. Each moment that passes I can be grateful for. Memento mori urges me on to live my dreams, to make a life and not eke out a living. I don’t have to build a castle, I can visit many castles.

It’s not always been easy, but I have been living a life that is different from the norm. I haven’t had a typical job for over thirty years: part-time, contract, seasonal, freelance. Some people say to me that they wish the could have my life in the tropics. I usually tell them that they can have this life too. Then I hear about responsibilities, and mortgages, and pensions and more excuses. I don’t argue but I do know from living the results, that everyone can stop having dreams and start living them.

This Christmas was the 23rd anniversary of my father’s death. He was only 63 and it marked me deeply. It taught me that life is a gift with an unknown expiration date and then  I too, will have to die. Life is for living. These thoughts follow on with the big lesson of 2017 for me: I will survive everything that comes my way, until I don’t.  There is so much to experience in this life. Step out of your comfort zone. Try new things. Live your dreams. Memento mori reminds me life is short and I will be dead for a lot longer than I lived on this earth. And I remember the movie Auntie Mame: “Live! That’s the message. Yes, life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!”

This New Year’s Day, if you must make a resolution, make one to live your dreams. Paint if you’ve always wanted to be a painter. Write if you want to write the greatest novel of the 21st century. Go on that retreat you want to go to. Don’t focus on the results. Forget about what people might say. Instead, focus on the experience. Live your dream. Dine at that banquet of life today and every day!

Renewed Beginnings

/ Tim / 2 Comments

This edition of Recovery River is number 49. It is hard to believe that I have written that many entries since July 13th. I have covered a good number of recovery topics and, as much as possible, based my comments on the steps and my personal experience. I have no idea where this blog is taking me in the future, but the past six months have been a time of discovery and journey in my life.

When I started this writing journey I had just ended a relationship that I had believed would last forever. I found out that my Higher Power had other plans. I don’t regret that relationship nor that it is now over. I can see now, with hindsight, that I learned a great deal about what it really means to be a partner to someone and how a relationship can grow and grow differently for both people involved. Through the aftermath of that change, I discovered how much I learned from my program and how much I could apply what I had learned about living life on life’s terms to my own life and about how important my friends in the program are to me. The greatest awareness that came out of it all is that I can and will survive everything that happens to me in life, until I don’t. Meanwhile, my Higher Power has been and continues to be by my side through it all.

Writing this blog has forced me to look at my own recovery program with a critical eye. I have had to ask myself some difficult questions of how I apply the twelve steps and twelve traditions to my own life. I firmly believe that my program of recovery today, while it is built on the foundation of yesterday, must be constructed anew each morning that I wake up; yesterday’s sobriety doesn’t keep me sober today. I have to apply myself each and every day.

These words I put out twice a week have forced me to commit to myself, my Higher Power and my personal recovery program. There were times when I really wanted to do other things besides sit down and write. But I made a commitment, a promise to myself and to those who follow the blog to provide insightful and timely thoughts on recovery, whatever program you follow. I believe that we can all use a twelve step program of some type.

I have committed to another block of time to this blog because my recovery is based upon the work I do on it today. I can see from the growth in my own program that this writing is good for me. So, in this the last blog of 2017, I ask you, my readers, where do you see this blog going? Do you have suggestions, possible changes, ideas, topics or themes that you would like me to cover in the next six months? Those reader who are not in a recovery program are also asked to respond. Any ideas on best publishing times, days of the week? I’m learning as I go along here and I’ve learned that I can’t do it alone either.

I look forward to your comments and suggestions. Happy Old Year Folks!

Peace.

My Greatest Gift

/ Tim / 3 Comments

Our recovery program is an enigma: I can’t keep it unless I give it away and the moment I say I have it, I don’t. It reminds me of something we did  in school as a kid.  We took cornstarch and mixed it with water. As long as it was in motion we could roll it around and make a ball in our hands, like a silly putty. But the moment we stopped moving it, it became a liquid and oozed through our fingers. This interesting mixture only has solidity when you ‘work’ it. My program needs movement; this is a program of action. The moment I stop the action, the program oozes through my fingers and I’ve lost it.

Step twelve tells us that we need to carry the message of recovery to others. Carrying the message is what keeps the memory of my own recovery fresh. Talking with another addict or alcoholic helps me to remember that I am just a couple of bad decisions away from taking a drink or a hit. It takes the steps and the slogans and forces me to apply them in different ways and in different situations. And it keeps my mind and my heart open to gratitude for what I was freely given.

Working with someone is the greatest gift I can give them: I am offering them the gift of a new life and a way out of the darkness they are living in. I am offering an example from my own life that change really is possible and that if I, another addict could do it, then there is the possibility that another person could do it too. And it is the greatest gift I can give myself because I am constantly renewing my own life and deepening my understand of the many facets of the diamond that is sobriety. Regardless of the outcome, I strengthen my own recovery.

Early on in my recovery I wanted to tell the world about the program. But we don’t do it that way. It’s attraction, not promotion that we work at. Let the active addict or alcoholic see how I have changed; be an example of how my life has changed. I don’t have to preach on the streets, this is a program of anonymity. But as someone once told me, “Don’t be so anonymous that no one can find you.”

Be open to talking a bit about the program at the parties and gatherings you attend this season. Trust that your higher power will bring you opportunities to shine your light in someone else’s darkness. Be the designated driver. Show your happiness, joy and freedom and others will be attracted to you and what you have. Share what others freely gave you and you will receive the gift of continued recovery.

I am grateful.

Merry Christmas.