Happy Fourth

Happy Fourth of July to friends known and to those known in spirit! Between travel and a computer that has been under the weather, we haven't visited recently. Kathie spoke of family and that has been on my mind, too.

When we went to upstate New York to visit family and to get our yearly "Rent-a-Chickens" (as our kids call them) that my cousin loans us for the summer, both of my older brothers were hospitalized for serious illnesses while we were there. Time was when I considered myself "different" from my family, beginning way before my alcohol problem. (I remember my 10th summer when I became convinced that I was adopted, despite the strong family resemblances photos showed through the ages.) My introduction to alcohol just confirmed my black sheep status, for my family was adamently abstinent, having lived through families broken by its effect. Entrenched in my secret life I pulled further away from family, visiting only briefly through the next years of alcoholic marriage. Then came sobriety, a new life, and a sober husband my family adored. I found I had only put myself in a position of estrangement and rediscovered siblings that embraced me and sometimes looked to me for answers.

Today I have real feelings for my family. I care when one is sick. I transplant flowers my sisters-in-laws give me and smile at their blooms; exchange recipes and gardening lore; I respect my brothers' advice and when we gather we fill in the empty years of our relationship with stories we tell about or "on" each other. We laugh and accept each other's strengths and weaknesses. One of the sisters-in-law even said that she wished she was as close to her sisters as we are.

Michael and I are going to have a Fourth of July bash, a large gathering of Michael's family (That miracle of repaired family relationships happened with his sobriety, too. Go figure!) There will be good food, a bonfire, marshmallows to cook on sticks in the embers,and a general celebration of freedom. Michael's and mine will be a double celebration, the traditional one, and also for our personal freedom from alcohol that shut us away from joy of family.

Yes, Home is Good

Posting a blog this morning is like getting back to a meeting I've missed several times; can't believe how much I rely on habit. If I get to a meeting today, it ups the odds I'll get to one tomorrow...hmmm.

Spent five days in Minneapolis with my brother and sister-in-law earlier this month. Occasion was my niece's wedding, which included one night of family dinner, next night of rehearsal dinner, next night of helping decorate the reception hall and picking up last-minute stuff at Mall of America and then, oh yeah, squeezed in a wedding ceremony the next noon before heading to reception, dinner and dance and then finally next day, the official gift and card opening. Phew.

All went well; I am reaping the benefits of the program's help in establishing neat relationships with family.

I also was aware of being perhaps the only non-drinker at all of this. One of the ways I know I'm alcoholic is I notice the drinking others do; I even notice if someone is NOT drinking. While the wedding party provided the liquor, they also charged 1$ a drink, their reasoning being it would cut down on consumption and help avoid anyone's drinking too much. Good idea, I mused, for the normies, but it wouldn't curtail a true drinker.

I came home safely, glad to have gone; happy to have participated in each event, but also a tad tired of having to be on guard so strongly for five days. I passed a bottle of champagne to the person next to me and poured a little water in my glass for the toasting; I carried a glass of beer to my brother, whose face turned to stone until he realized it was for him, not me, etc. I was truly grateful to repeatedly remind myself to stay "awake". However, I do not do these things effortlessly; I am not around liquor on a daily basis and prefer being freer of the constant stimuli.

I am so thankful for the AA program and Yea, god!

Learning to live on the planet

My career path takes me many places and one of my callings in life is travel, so I am happy when I am traveling. I write about the people I see, the products that are produced in the business of manufacturing a certain product (candy! chocolate!) and also to events where alcohol is free and open to get. This didn't make me an alcoholic, only enabled the progression of the obsession of the mind and allergy of the body the Big Book says we have.

At any rate, I'm home. And since I am waiting for my husband to also come home from his travels at a different location, thought I'd share my thoughts online. I know it would feel better to share my words face-to-face with fellow AAs but it's my choice to write them tonight.

The first special event took me to a famous chef's restaurant in honor of a soul-friend's retirement. Beginning with a small reception, the dinner progressed similarly to one in the film, CHOCOLAT (2000 release) with all kinds of cacao products in nine desserts at the ending. Of course there were flights of wine for the foodies, and I was the only one not drinking. I asked the waiter for a coke, and he finally remembered and we shared a forgiving smile. Sometimes I reflect that the servers and I are the only ones not affected by the alcohol; other times, the proximity to it brings thoughts that I might prefer to ignore. I can't really not go, but I am thinking of making retirement more of a priority. The second event was an awards ceremony and another must-attend for yours truly. I wouldn't miss it as I used to be in charge of this group and it's nice to be an observer rather than a participant. I like my cola, and I had two. I was getting annoyed at this one, because what did I see but an old resentment that I have not yet had the chance to do my 9th step with. In fact, the only time I run into this problem is at parties when I notice the behavior that I used to have. I know one is not supposed to do 12th step work when people are still choosing to do their drinking, and I think it's probably not a good idea to try one's 9th step, either. So, I just obsessed about it for 24 hours and am happy I don't have to live like that anymore. I may never be able to do anything about this one, so have to accept it as just a reminder. Talking to a sponsor might help, but it won't take away the situation. It felt a little like early sobriety, in fact, rather than having a few 24-hours under my belt. It was time to come home. That's all I know, and I'm sure more will be revealed. I do admit I'm powerless, and my life had become unmanageable for the moment, but wow, I took my notes, my pictures, congratulated the winners and said hello to everyone, even the resentment. Maybe that's a living amends. Maybe I'll simply be grateful I'm home. Thanks for letting me share.

Desert Ephemerals

Desert Ephemera's are wildflowers that have learned to flourish in a harsh environment that swings moodily from drought years to those more blessed by monsoon rains. The blossoming plants drop seeds that lay dormant, sometimes for years, until conditions are just right for them to grow again. When the plants grow and blossom they are the more glorious for their rarity. This was just such a year. Fields of yellow and orange poppies interspersed with strips of blue lupines, and along the roadsides clouds of yellow brittle bush. One can only spread arms wide and say, "Thank you God!"

And so, their season ends as does ours. We have mingled seeds here with our friends and loved ones, kind words, kind deeds, shared experiences and now we must move on to our other life and if the monsoons come in the fall we will return energized, or if there is drought we will come back to commiserate. But it is hard to tear ourselves away, to accept change, even when loved ones and old friends await our arrival. We go through a period of disorientation that is disconcerting, but experience tells us if we keep close to the program and be patient with ourselves, soon the other place will wrap us in its charms and then we will hate to leave there. Goodbye Tucson; hello O hi o.
Verge and Michael

Beautification Project

When I finally reached that time in my life to put up or shut up regarding my my ability to stop drinking using my will power, I was stunned to find it wouldn't work. My older recovering brother told me the hope was in AA. His life was totally changed and he was happy. Reluctantly I decided to give it a try. One of the first things I heard was that I had to change everything but my name. That sounded way overboard. There was nothing wrong with me except I drank too much. I was a good guy; I just spent too much money on alcohol and my health was slipping. I thought, just tell me the secret of how to stop drinking and I will be back to my good guy self. I was sure my head was clear and I saw the world in a realistic way. My denial wouldn't let me see the fallacy of that thinking. It is hard to see things with much clarity from a barstool and life viewed from a barroom is skewed at best.

My vision began to clear over time in the Program, but it was hard to admit that I, not the world, needed to change. I started noticing thngs that had always existed but I had been too preoccupied with self to see. The abundance of flowers comes to mind. Suddenly everyone seemed to be growing quantities of bright flowers. Without shame or fear of ridicule I stopped people in the street to ask, "Where are all the flowers coming from? Is this some national beautification project of Nancy Regan's (then current president's wife) that everyone is supposed to participate in?" When I remember those days I have to laugh at myself. I was a stranger in a brand new land.

Fast forward to last Saturday, April 3, 2010. Virginia and I and Sue and Kathy hiked a trail in Catalina State Park, Arizona to view an amazing wildflower display. After walking about an hour into the park we came upon hillsides exploding with color. A glorious panarama of yellows, oranges, pinks, purples, blues and white. I could only be grateful for the privelege to be surrounded by such grandure. Some beautification project, alright! I am grateful for the brand new road I trudge far beyond that helpless, hopeless view from a barstool of eons ago.

13 Miles

Last week I "carefully" recalled my mental map to Happy Valley Falls, a very special place to me near Tucson, but mostly known only to locals.

I described that the distance was about eight miles in, and that the road at one point crossed a shallow stream (or, does the stream cross the road?)For

my friends, who did trudge on and get to experience this desert grotto for themselves, it was 13 miles in and seven or eight stream crossings. Wow.

To me, this is the program; this is "how".

AA was freely given to me, and I was able to pass it on, to the best of my ability. However, my sobriety road map isn't EXACTLY like someone else's. As thoroughly as I can, I broadcast my message from my heart, from my recollections of my personal trip. My memories of trekking to the program come from my own experience, first hand, but they are only memories. Once again, I realize (yea, God) that I cannot get someone sober; I cannot carry them to Happy Valley Falls; I can only give them, freely, my best message and then it is up to them and their higher power to cross the one stream or the seven and to travel the eight miles or the 13, whatever is their trip, not mine.

Thank you AA for teaching me.

Thanks AA

I want to express my gratitude to AA and my Higher Power for 29 years of a brand new life.
On Feb 26 1981 I walked through the doors for the first time, full of doubt and arrogance, but I could feel the hope in the room and I stayed in spite of myself. Thank you AA and all my fellow travelers.
Last night at a meeting someone told how she felt when she got to AA. " When I got here I was living in Tucson, but was using a map of Phoenix." That about sums it up for me too. Lost!
Michael

Little Man in the Big Book

The changes that happen in the Big Book when I am not looking (that is, while my book is closed) never cease to amaze me. Is there a little man in there who goes about making up new material while I am not looking? You know, like the little man in the refrigerator who turns the light on and off. Case in point. Last night at a Big Book Meeting we were reading the story on page 421, "Window of Opportunity". I have read that story several times, but this time we read a sentence I have never seen before. It is on page 423, at the bottom. It says: "I realize how true it is that one of the primary differences between alcoholics and non-alcoholics is that non-alcoholics change their behavior to meet their goals and alcoholics change their goals to meet their behavior. " How very true that is. have often thought that, but never put it into words that illustratees that difference so succinctly. How did I miss that?

I remember when I was attending graduate school , I always stopped at a bar after class to quench my thirst. One day as I looked into the mirror behind the bar, I thought, "This school gig is getting harder and harder. I have to do something about it. Either I have to stop drinking or I have to stop school . You guessed it; I stopped going to classes.

I am very grateful that today I can make choices in a new and sane way.
Michael N.

Promises

It's Sunday. I'm in Miami Beach, FL, and it is a beautiful place to be. My times for business were good and so was some time with friends, and the party atmosphere was everywhere and finally a little hard to take. I even met a new friend in the surroundings. However, they are all earth people and not an AA among 'em. Although I can't figure out how to post a photo (maybe that's a good thing because it is an image of striated blues of the ocean peppered with whitecaps and would make my fellow Ohioans jealous). With the help of my laptop and the hotel staff I made it to a Sunday noon meeting. The subject was PROMISES and a lead was given, and comments made afterwards just like at home. One of the comments mentioned the party atmosphere of Put-in-Bay, Ohio, being like that of South Florida and yours truly could relate. People greeted me as I entered the door of the Sober House, and I liked it. The fellow who put his hand out first told me about his experience, strength and hope and welcomed me "home" and "safe" from the outside influences. Together, we went over the first two words of Step One, something new for me, focusing on WE, of course, and then, ADMITTED. Have I admitted to my innermost self that I'm still obsessing about the drink and what other people are doing with it? Maybe not. At least not until today, when even after a few 24 hours in the program, I'm still obsessing. I called my sponsor and left a voice mail at this person's suggestion. I haven't heard back, yet, so maybe the voice mail was at the wrong number, or not received yet, as she is out of the area in the winter time, too. I liked being at AA today. I need to do that more. Promises, promises, I need to admit that I don't follow a program as well as I should do. I'm glad I'm here. Sun and a little warmth help move the sloth out of my system. And also, I wrote a poem for another group that I thought might apply here - maybe I can get the photo in now.

Lake Erie’s frozen over,

according to the news,

for the first time in fourteen years.

Although I have no memory of our shallow lake

last year,

I believe this report

and prepare to view

an icy glitter as my flight

departs.

It’s still dark; feels like jet lag and I

Remember anxiety and depression this time, last year.

Today, I experience an absence of fear.

Besides, as I proofread this, I’d already gotten out of there.

MEDITATION

A real winter in Arizona with record breaking, cool, wet days has sent Michael and me hiking in the surrounding mountain parks for our daily walks and meditations. Clouds and snow define the mountains' multiple crags and layers which are usually flatten to silhouettes against the bright Sapphire sky. Those mountains, drawn closer by a new perspective, seem to dwarf us as we walk the ridges and valleys of the foothills. Sounds are muffled except for the bright jingle of snow melt flowing in branching arteries through the dry river beds, locally called "washes" (an ironic name, I used to think, until I witnessed my first rainy season out here.) The beauty of these forces of nature remind us of our humble position in the long term of it all.

When I first came to "The Program" the concept of meditation was beyond me. How do you meditate? What positions to take and what "oohhhmmmm's" to say? And what good would it do anyway? Since childhood I had been familiar with daydreaming much to my teachers' annoyance, but meditation seemed much more formal and a lot more work than that. A person in the program I respected enough to ask suggested I just take a walk and try not to think about anything. What a concept when my troubled mind was racing constantly. At first I could only get a few moments of quiet in my mind; then I was off and racing again. When I complained to the person, she just said. "Practice." When later I told her it didn't work, she just said, "Patience." And finally the day a spontaneous thought came to my quiet mind and gave me an answer I needed, I excitedly ran to tell her and all she said was "It keeps getting better."

Today I can achieve that state of open-mind meditation walking among the snow bright mountains of Tucson or doing mindless acts like mowing the lawn in Cleveland or working in my garden. It feels very close to daydreaming except thoughts are generated by a force beyond me which today I am comfortable calling a Higher Power. Sometimes there are revelations, but generally meditation just brings a peaceful feeling that the the world and my life is unfolding just as it is supposed to and I do not need to understand all of it.