Act as If

February 12, 2018February 11, 2018 / Tim / 1 Comment

“I’ve got this!” Famous last words of many folks who had no idea of what or how things could go wrong. Suddenly they will be nominated for a Darwin Award: a prize given to those who contribute to our gene pool by removing themselves from it. It’s a fitting crown to an otherwise obscure tombstone.

So often we think that we’ve ‘got’ it, and we don’t know how close we are to ‘lost’ it. There are so many variables in life that it is impossible to have sufficient contingency plans for everything. A tire will explode; a dog will cross your path; the ladder will break. It’s not a matter of good or bad karma. Things happen. It’s often the timing and the consequences of those things that we judge to be good, bad or indifferent: how do I perceive it?

Take for example the tire exploding. If it happens when the car is parked, just after we got home then, “Well, it’s a miracle that we made it!” If it happens just before we are about to leave then, “What bad luck, now I have to change the damn tire!” If it happens while driving too fast down a gravel road in the mountains, we may not survive to make a comment.

I’m learning that I simply don’t have control. I have plenty of evidence that gives me the illusion that I can control things: it worked today, so it will work tomorrow. However, there is never a guarantee that walking to work today will be as uneventful as it was yesterday or the day before, or the ride I’m about to take on my motorcycle will end with me safe and sound back in my home. The guy who said, “I got this!” might have done the same thing 25 times before without turning himself into a human torch. The unexpected happens. We all know this is true on some level, yet we still venture out into the ‘unknown’.

Why aren’t we paralysed with fear? Why would we ever leave the ‘safety’ of our homes? I think it is because we know on some level that we have to ‘act as if’ things are going to be fine, that they will run like clockwork and we’ll be tucked safely into bed at the end of the day. It’s an agreement with life that we will act and think as though things will happen as we intend them to happen. And for the most part, they do.

When I came into recovery I began to ‘act as if’ I was sober and clean. I ‘acted as if’ I could spend the rest of the day without consuming. I went to meetings, I worked the steps and talked to my sponsor because I was ‘acting like someone in a recovery program’ until I actually began to feel that I was no longer acting. And when I ‘came to believe’ in a power greater than myself, I was opting into the same belief system that I was operating with before: that if I would ‘act as if’ there was a Higher Power in my life until I could really believe and trust. The program has given me a new perspective. Now I don’t have to ‘act as if’. Now I know, “We got this!”

A Journey to Belief

February 1, 2018January 31, 2018 / Tim / 1 Comment

In Step Two we come to believe in a power greater than ourselves that can restore us to sanity. As with all the steps, it’s a process that takes some time. I still had a belief in ‘something’ when I came into recovery. I can’t say that I could have articulated exactly what I believed, but there was something ‘up there’ I figured. It certainly wasn’t the god I was raised with, and I was very relieved that the program allows me to believe in a god of my own understanding.

When I started to come out of my self-induced haze I had to admit that I hadn’t been doing all that well in the running of my life. And here were some folks who were telling me that they had turned things around in their lives and that part of that was a believe in a Power greater than themselves. I couldn’t argue with the results they were telling me about. And by the time I arrived at recovery’s doorstep I really was ready to give it a shot. After all, I was told, I didn’t have to believe in the god I was made to believe in, I could choose the god that I came to believe in.

I remember a friends description of his journey through Step Two. Joe was an atheist. He couldn’t accept that there was some sort of a god up there somewhere doing stuff to us and allowing all of the bad stuff to happen. As Joe tells it, when he was five, his grandfather, for whom he is named, died. He and his Papa had a very special relationship. At the funeral the priest said that God had called his Papa to be with him in heaven. What Joe heard was that God had stolen his grandfather away. What a mean and selfish God. At that point, though he was very young, Joe stopped believing in God, gradually, with time, declaring himself an atheist.

Through the journey of life, Joe became an addict and alcoholic and eventually found himself coming into a rehab centre and recovery. He was having a great deal of trouble with Step Two. During one of his discussions with his sponsor he shared his experience of his grandfather’s funeral. “What would you say to this god if you had the chance?” asked his sponsor. And Joe began to rail against this god who took is Papa away from him. “You sure have a lot of hate and anger against something you say you don’t believe in,” said his sponsor.

Joe was stunned. He couldn’t deny that what his sponsor had just called him on: he must still believe in some kind of a god if he had such strong feelings toward him. And that was enough to open the door for Joe. He continued to work with his sponsor and had come to a strong belief in a god of his own understanding. He came; he came to; he came to believe.

Thank you Joe G.

Progress, not Perfection

January 11, 2018January 10, 2018 / Tim / 3 Comments

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.