The Trouble With Paradise

Lately, I’ve been thinking that my recovery has been going pretty well. My daily gratitude list is long. My inventory of fears is short. Most days, I feel happy and serene. And that’s the problem.

It’s a problem because when things start to go too well, I begin to struggle with humility. Once again I begin to think I’m pretty smart, that I have all the answers. I forget that I didn’t get here under my own power.

I came into this program utterly defeated. Life had humbled me. And that was a blessing. Because only then was I willing to try a new way. Being humbled made me teachable.

I heard someone say once that humility is like a mirage. It shimmers off in the distance. As soon as we think we have reached it, we put out our hand to touch it, and it dissolves before our eyes.

It’s been like that for me.

That same person told a story about a pastor of a church who had been declared the most humble pastor in the country by a selection committee that had combed every corner of the land. The congregation was so excited that it had buttons printed up that said “most humble pastor in the country.”

Sadly, the congregation had to fire the pastor when he showed up the next Sunday wearing the button.

And that’s the problem with humility. As soon as I say I have it, that’s pride and ego speaking. The mirage floats away.

I can only keep working on my intention by reminding myself that I only get a daily reprieve based on my spiritual condition, and by realizing that life will not always feel this way.

I will fall off the beam.

This is not projecting. It’s acceptance. I’ve seen it happen to people with many years in the program. And I’ve watched them climb back up using the tools of the program.

When my sponsor presented me with my chip on my last Al-Anon birthday, she said, “If you talk to Kathy, there’s a serenity about her. Maybe that’s the gift of this age.

“Don’t get used to it.”

I wonder if those times we fall off the beam serve the same purpose as the brokenness so many of us feel when we come into these rooms. It reminds us that we are not in charge. That we do not have all the answers. That we don’t do this under our own power.

Until then, the best way I know to find humility is to get on my knees each morning in prayer. Just the act of prayer is an act of humility, because when I pray to God, I admit that I am not God.

And I pray in the position of humility because thoughts follow actions. If I accept the position of humility often enough, long enough, sincerely enough, the feeling will follow.

One day at a time.

Hubby and I are off to the land later today. I hope you all enjoy your Memorial Day weekend. I’ll drop by when we return.

Oh Lord, It's Hard to be Humble....

The topic at my home-group meeting last night was humility.

We said all the things about humility that you expect to hear at meetings. That it's not about being a doormat. That it's about being right-sized. That it's the opposite of pride.

We said it's our egos that get in the way of humility. And fear. And the walls we build around ourselves as protection to make ourselves look impenetrable and tough.

But here's the thing no one says: How does one get humble? What does one do, exactly?

Early in Al-Anon, I used to wonder that a lot. I knew I was a prideful. I wanted to be humble. I really did. In meetings I'd always admit that humility was something I needed to work on. I just didn't know how.

Last night made me think about what I'd learned since then.

Before Al-Anon, humility was something I got when life laid me low. Even before I believed in God, I could see that the difficult times I'd experienced ultimately served some purpose. Lying with my face in the mud, I'd wonder what lesson I was supposed to be learning.

Once, I remember thinking that I couldn't see what possible purpose my unhappiness would serve except to show me that life had been a little too good for a little too long. I'd gotten cocky. I thought I'd figured things out. This was a leveler intended to bring me down to size.

And it worked. I got a whole lot more compassion for people.

When I came to Al-Anon. That was the sum of my experience with humility.

In Al-Anon, no one said, "This is how you get humility." But they did say this:

Pray on your knees.

I fought this for a long time. What difference did it make if I prayed on my knees or on my head? Couldn't God hear my just as well?

But I was taught that we pray on our knees not for God's sake but for ours. Kneeling is the position of humility. I can't be defiant on my knees. I can't be a miss know-it-all. And if I can admit I don't know all the answers, I become teachable. I can accept the guidance of a higher power in my life.

That was lesson 1.

Lesson 2 came in working my fourth step. I came away from that with a whole new perspective on my life. I could see the times in my life that I was wrong. Where God was trying to steer me, but I insisted on doing things my way. I saw clearly the damaged I caused. That was humbling.

Then there was my ninth step. I had to go to people and admit I was wrong. Even the alcoholics and other people I felt had harmed me. I had to say those words. I. Was. Wrong. Humbling. Very. Humbling.

Service can be humbling, too. Especially when you see someone in truly dire circumstances walk through them with dignity and grace.

This is what I've learned about humility.

I've also learned you can loose it. Things can to too well for too long. I can still think I've got it all figured out.

I finished working the steps in June. My sponsor had said in about a month we'd start again, with another fourth step. Then she decided to put it off until my Al-Anon birthday in April. Meanwhile, I should settle in to my recovery.

And it's been great. It's given me the opportunity to explore different ways of being of service. But I realized last night that I'm losing my humility. Things have been going pretty well for me. I admit I've been feeling like I've got things figured out. I begin to think I've been running on my own steam and not the grace of God.

I think that's why I've been "off-kilter" as Garnet put it. Technobabe had me pegged. I got to a certain place in my recovery and got a little too comfortable.

I need to start working the steps again. I plan to tell my sponsor that I'm ready to start my next fourth step. This time, I'm want to get on my knees voluntarily. Before life puts me there.

Hubby and I are off to the land. No TV, no internet, so no posting. Meanwhile, take care my friends. I'll see you all in a few days.