Doing What Works

This little Screech Owl uses the sprinkler near my fishpond for a refreshing shower nearly every afternoon. I really did a double take the first time I watched, just assuming that owls and water don't mix. I think he discovered something that works for him.

Early on in the program I had misconceptions about the effectiveness of the suggested livestyle offered freely to me, too. How could a bunch of such simple behaviors give me a life free from alcohol and its killer effects?

Now, I know from personal experience that the AA program works, when I use it. Today, things are going smoothly, thanks to a higher power, going to meetings, working with others and not drinking. Where I recognize my alcoholism in times like this is that thoughts come (and go) that I don't need meetings, that a particular incident is too small to require a 10th step from me, that I don't have time for this and that anymore...glad I can laugh at myself and keep doing what works. It is kind of humorous, this thinking...kind of like, "I don't need to brush my teeth anymore, because I did such a good job on them last year." Yea for meetings and fellowship that help me realize I'm not the only one whose brain needs restoring to sanity.

HARVESTING THE PROGRAM

This morning we walked through our garden, as we do most every morning, and found two tomatoes had turned from a stubborn green to orange overnight. First tomatoes of the season; what joy! This summer has been unusually cool in the northeast and heat loving vegetables are slow to mature. For us, gardening is a nurturing activity. It gives us plenty of physical exercise, it encourages us to eat a healthy diet, it lends a spirit of anticipation to each day as we wait for the seeds to grow and at this end of the cycle for produce to ripen, and as we do the mindless activity of weeding or cultivating, it is a wonderful place to meditate.

Another perk of gardening is that it keeps us constantly aware of our powerlessness in the face of nature's whims. Gardening is not a necessity for us; it's a hobby, but when I was growing up, the food the garden provided was what the family ate, and what we froze or canned, was a major part of our winter food. Now, if we have a year when crows destroy the corn, or rabbits eat every beat, bean, or carrot before it has a chance to grow, or the garden drowns from too much rain, or dies from drought, I wonder how my family always had vegetables on the table, and we never went hungry. Our garden makes us grateful for a sobriety that has taught us the joy of simple pleasures.