A Call to Action

October 12, 2017October 11, 2017 / Tim / 2 Comments

For many, the Serenity Prayer is a nice little prayer that most of us say on a daily basis, or at least whenever we attend recovery meetings. We ask for ‘serenity’, ‘wisdom’ and ‘courage’ very nicely and hope that our Higher Power will ‘grant’ it to us. It may seem like a meek, humble prayer, but it doesn’t have to be. I believe it is a prayer of great strength.

When I came to recovery, the first step ‘suggested’ that I admit my powerlessness when it comes to drugs and alcohol. It wasn’t hard to admit. I couldn’t get very far in a day without trying to alter my body chemistry in some way. And for the most part, the rest of the day I was either pursuing more, money to get more, or scheming some way to make it all work. My whole day, hell, my whole being was caught up with my addiction. And once it was in my system, I just wanted more and more and oblivion. The next morning the cycle continued. No, admitting powerlessness wasn’t difficult. Addiction was managing my life; I sure wasn’t.

What I learned when I came into the rooms is that while I might be powerless before alcohol and drugs, I was not helpless. And there’s a big difference that I didn’t see before I arrived. Powerlessness means that while I may once have had power, I have lost that power; I must stand aside and let whatever happens, happen. There is nothing I can do to diminish or stop its progress. Helplessness implies a complete inability to change or react to circumstances. I acted helpless when I arrived. But it wasn’t long before I heard that there were indeed things I could do to maintain my sobriety: stay away from my old haunts, go to meetings, give other members a call, read the literature. I felt at first that it was a daunting task, but I could do something to help myself. Indeed, while I wasn’t fighting it alone, the responsibility to take up the sword and lead the battle against my disease fell to me.

The Serenity Prayer became my battle cry. I claimed the serenity, courage and wisdom and fought my demons. There were many days where I would hop onto my motorcycle and ride, going nowhere in particular, saying the Serenity Prayer over and over and over. And slowly this mantra gave me blessed me with a calmness that would start in my head and filter down to my heart. And I could return to face what I had just ran from.

By working all of the steps, I’ve learned how to deal with situations that before I couldn’t not have handled. I’ve found the serenity to accept, the courage to change and the wisdom to discern. One day I realized that the demons stopped knocking on the my door. Oh, I hold no illusions: I know they are still around, waiting up the street for me to slip up so they can come back with a vengeance. I know that I am still powerless over my addiction and always will be. However, I was not helpless when I first came into the program and I am not helpless today. There is always something that I can do and for me, the Serenity Prayer is my first recourse. Secondly, I still do the five things that were ‘suggested’ to me:

Don’t drink.
Go to meetings.
Get a Home Group.
Get a Sponsor.
Work the Steps.

These five things connected me. They connect me to my real self, to others, to the program and to my Higher Power. I never was alone, and now I know I am not alone.

Finally, I am reminded of a reworking of this prayer that also rings true for me:
God, Grant me the Serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the Courage to change the ones I can, and the Wisdom to realize that one is Me.

♥ ♥ ♥

Please like and share this blog, not to stroke my ego, but for those who need the courage, strength and hope to start and continue their journey down Recovery River. I would appreciate it if you would sign up and follow as well. My intention is to post Mondays and Thursdays. Please comment and offer suggestions. I’d love to hear from you.

Peace

New Beginnings

October 5, 2017October 4, 2017 / Tim / Leave a comment

In this area, like many other places, when there’s a newcomer or someone returning to the fellowship, we talk about Step One. “We admitted that we were powerless over our addiction and that our lives had become unmanageable.” We also talk about the Third Tradition. “The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop using.” The last three meetings I attended have welcomed new people. Is my Higher Power trying to tell me something?

To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to quit when I arrived at my first meeting. I had no desire to stop using. I had a desire for the craziness to stop. I wanted the circus in my head to pull up stakes and move on. I wanted to feel better and stop feeling depressed. The feelings of despair were so overwhelming that I wanted them to stop, but I didn’t want to admit that my consumption was the problem. I thought you could perhaps teach me to control my use so that I could enjoy life. Once I got my life organized again, then I could drink and use like a normal human being.

Hmmm. Didn’t quite work out the way I thought.

I really wasn’t sure what would happen when I walked into the room that first time. But I was welcomed, recognized a couple of people I knew and sat down. Almost immediately I heard other people sharing their story and it was my story. I could relate to the insanity of it all. I heard them speak of the shame they felt, their despair, fear and confusion while they were still drinking and using. They told me something that I never knew. It’s the first drink that got me drunk, not the eighth or tenth. How many times did I tell myself that I was only going to have one or two and find myself falling off of the barstool asking myself what happened. I thought, ‘One can’t hurt’, and came to the next morning unsure of how I ended up lying on the porch. As one member said, ‘It’s not the caboose that kills you, it’s the engine!’ Once it was in me, I lost all my resolve and all bets were off. I had to admit, that I never just had one of anything.

Sheepishly, slowly, I had to admit that perhaps my use was at least part of my problem. Slowly, with time, I realized that I was powerless over my addiction. I saw that I spent most of my time getting high, recovering from it, or planning my next one. I might still have had a roof over my head and food in the fridge, but it wasn’t me who was managing my life, my addiction was. Most importantly, I learned that I couldn’t solve my problems with the same thinking that caused them. Something had to change.

Something did change: I stopped thinking and starting listening. I had to admit that the folks around the table had something that I wanted. They were happy, laughing and friendly. It didn’t take long before I dropped the pretense that I could control my use. One minute at a time, one hour at a time and then one day at a time. I could stop for the moment, this minute or this hour. Gradually the hours added up to a day and then the days to a week and so on.

I can’t take my sobriety for granted. I know that I am a few bad decisions away from losing it. The elevator of my disease is waiting with the door open, ready to take me down deeper. And there’s no guarantee that I will make it back. Like the diabetic taking insulin, I must follow the program on a daily basis to ensure my sobriety. I am a beginner every day.

Beginner meetings remind me how far I have come in sobriety. They remind me of what it was like and could be again. Working with a new member helps to keep it fresh. I am grateful to those who took the time to pass the message onto me and in my gratitude, I pass that message to others. What’s my Higher Power telling me? Keep coming back. Keep working the program. I can’t know what will coming around the corner in my life, but whatever it is, I know that keeping close to the program will allow me to handle life as it comes. I am grateful.

♥ ♥ ♥

Peace

The Uncluttered Mind

September 28, 2017 / Tim / 1 Comment

Stuff
I read a blog from a friend who is moving to a much smaller home and is going through the process of de-cluttering. She’s sorting through all sorts of things she’s been dragging around for many years and filling up the recycle bins at a stunning pace. My sister and her wife just moved into a highrise condo. After garage sales, generous donations to the local resale store and recycle bins, they are unwilling to being the cycle of accumulation again. Good for all of them. I know there’s nothing like moving to a new country with only a few suitcases to prioritize what is important. Of course, I have accumulated more ‘stuff’ but I tend to do so a bit more mindfully, acquiring what I need, and not necessarily what I want.

Deal with it

I try to do the same thing with my mind. How much crap do I have stuffed into this brain that clutters and confuses? How many old feelings and beliefs do I carry along with me. I remember Jim Carrey’s movie: Eternal Sunsrhine of the Spotless Mind, where a couple have their memories of each other removed after they break up. That technology, of course, doesn’t exist; I can’t simply erase the clutter from my mind. I have to, somehow, deal with it.

I wasn’t the best at dealing with emotions, feeling. I wasn’t taught how to deal with them. I don’t think my family was much different than any other at the time. Expressions of mild happiness or contentment, and anger could be expressed. Anything else was viewed with suspision. Someone who appeared too happy? Hmmm, something’s up with them. Expressions of love? Well other than your mother, you didn’t say the ‘L’ word outside of an intimate relationship. Fear? Not me! Jealousy? I’m above that. Sadness? Boys don’t cry. Lonely? Confused? Just muddle through but don’t let anyone know. Men don’t talk about feelings. Period!

I didn’t know how

The problem is, I still had all of these feelings. The way I learned to deal with them was with supression aided by a generous dose of alcohol or whatever. That was the only coping mechanism I learned. I had to do something because the feeling were churning around inside me. Alcohol was an acceptable release. Smoking up one could leave it all behind. And once in my reduced world of the altered mind, I felt free of those feelings or I could express them and, the next day, have the excuse, “Boy was I ever drunk last night!” And everyone understood.

I will never forget the first few meetings I attended. Men were talking about how they were feeling! They were using phrases like, ‘I was afraid’, ‘I was wrong’ and ‘I needed help’! I hadn’t heard those words before. Not said in public. And especially not by straight men in Perth County! We don’t talk like that!

After I got over my disbelief, I learned. Expressing my feelings is healthy and important. It was absolutely necessary for me to learn how to deal with them if I was going to stay sober and find the serenity, courage and wisdom I prayed for.

Express Yourself

I learned that feelings do not go away. I can only repress them. Perhaps that’s why I was an addict; I had been stashing up so many feelings that it took more and more of whatever to keep them down and stop me from exploding. I learned that I could talk about what I was feeling in meetings, in prayer and with my sponsor. In working the steps and making them part of my life I learned to deal with things as they came along and not stuff them under the proverbial rug hoping they’d disappear. I’ve learned that a tenth step can not only be used for promptly admitting my faults but also promptly admitting my feelings and talking about them. It helps me to grow and thrive. As Madonna’s sings, “Express yourself, respect yourself.”

I can’t say that I always am successful in uncluttering my mind, but I know I’m much better at it now. I’m learning to deal with it and move on. I can’t change the past but it has become useful in that I can learn from it, hopefully not repeating it. My feelings are my feelings and there’s nothing right or wrong about them but I do have to work with them if I want to be happy, joyous and free.