With Gratitude (from the Prison)

I stopped by my local Al-Anon information center to pick up prison books today. The woman who works there was glad I did because it cleared up a mystery. She had been receiving anonymous checks from different parts of the country requesting that they be used for copies of "Courage to Change" for the prison program.

When I first checked with her (before I posted about the books), there were four books. Today there were nine.

Those of you who heeded the call, I thank you. Your donations will make a difference in someone's life.

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.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

There are certain places I’ve felt instantly, viscerally at home. That’s how I felt about New England and the small town where I lived. Other places took a while. The deep South was a culture shock to a girl who had grown up in L.A. And the sprawling metropolitan desert city I now inhabit? Well let’s just say it had to grow on me.

The thing is, it has. It’s where I belong.

Today, I also feel that way about my Al-Anon home group. I feel a part of things. I feel accepted. I feel loved. But I didn’t always. It wasn’t the group I wanted to make my home group. It was too far away and too late. I wanted to make a different group my home group. One that was closer and earlier and that I loved immediately and with all my heart.

But God had other plans. I couldn’t attend that group regularly. Taking service commitments would have been problematic. But Monday night? I’m almost always home on a Monday night. And over time, God firmly planted me there.

Looking around the room last night, I realized that I couldn’t leave the group if I wanted to. Scattered about the room, I saw most of my little Al-Anon family, five of my six sponsees. They are there every week. The only one who doesn’t attend this meeting lives out of town. So now I’m like a potted plant, and the thing is I’m thriving where I’ve been planted.

That was in keeping with the topic of last night’s meeting. It was yesterday’s reading from “Courage to Change.” It begins:

“In the words of Oscar Wilde, ‘In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. Of the two, the last is much the worse.’

Translation: My will gets me into trouble…. Maybe that’s why not one of the steps talks about carrying out my will.”

The rest of the reading was about learning to let go of self-will and instead seeking the guidance of a Higher Power.

I can relate to this on so many levels. I’ve been trying to impose my will for as long as I’ve drawn breath. In the AA Big Book, that’s referred to as “self-will run riot.”

But today, I can also see how it’s only gotten me into trouble.

Here’s something I came across on a website about Al-Anon. I was directed there by a blogger, but I can’t remember which one, it’s been so long ago.

This quote from a psychologist who specializes in addiction got my attention:

“I do not insist that the patient or I make a clear connection between the patient’s complaints and the presence of alcoholism. I suggest the patient use AlAnon as part of the diagnostic process and I use the familiar recommendation that the person may decide after attending six meetings whether the program seems to be useful.

“Frequently the most useful information emerges from the patient’s reactions to the AlAnon meetings. A feeling of not belonging is usually connected to the sense of estrangement that is common among alcoholic families. If the patient felt burdened by listening to others at a meeting, it is a telltale sign that this person assumes overwhelming responsibility for someone else’s behavior.”

In other words, feeling you don’t belong is a good sign that you do. Hence the recommendation to attend six meetings.

It reminded me of something I heard someone say at a meeting recently. She said Al-Anon had taught her that the right thing to do was often exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do, or did instinctively.

For me, this means that my will and God’s plans are seldom the same. So I don’t use my feelings as a guide as much as I used to. I didn’t “want” to make my Monday night my home group. But God seemed to have other ideas. The circumstances in my life kept pointing me in that direction. So I stayed.

Today I know that God’s surprises always work out better than my plans. I also know that God always wins. Acceptance just makes it easier for me.

Sometimes that just means doing what’s in front of me, asking for the next right action, until God puts something else there. Then I work on that. I don’t see these unplanned interruptions as unwelcome intrusions anymore. I see then as welcome guidance, and I embrace them.

Fear? So what?

This was a line in a book I just finished. I don't remember the context. Only the line. It's a great one. And it's just how I feel about fear today.

Before Al-Anon, I had a hard time identifying my feelings. Today, I can identify them as well as what's behind them. Usually, if I drill down far enough, I'll hit a well of fear. And then I can let it go.

"That's just fear," I can tell myself.

In this program, I've heard fear referred to as

False
Expectations
Appear
Real

I like this, because I've found that many of my fears are irrational, and most of the things I feared never happened.

In my fourth step inventory, I identified my fears. Through meditation, I got to know them well. Like the Wizard of Oz, I pulled back the curtain to find a homely little man.

"That's what I've been afraid of all this time?" I wanted to laugh.

Fear lost its power over me.

Now when fear wells up, I can face it down.

"I know you," I tell it. "You don't scare me."

Mostly. And on my best days.

Of course, there are days when I am more fearful than others. And as an Al-Anon, I do have fears that are not irrational. Like the fact that my daughter could die from this disease.

But I'm powerless over that. I can turn it over to God. I can pray for acceptance. I can live my life.

Free of fear.

Sages of the Funny Pages

Every now and then, I come across a cartoon that really speaks to my recovery.

Early in my recovery it was something in the comic strip, "Get Fuzzy." "Get Fuzzy" is about a comic strip writer and his two pets, a not-too-bright dog named Satchel and an malicious cat named Bucky. My husband and I read it because it reminds us of our own pets.

Anyway, for some reason I didn't cut out the strip that day, but I did write out this line and put it in my copy of the Al-Anon daily reader "One Day at a Time."

"I don't feel it's healthy to keep your faults bottled up inside me." --Bucky Kat

I wrote this down because that's, in essence, what I did. I took on things that did not belong to me, and made them mine.

I saw this cartoon in the paper yesterday.

The crab is saying "Ariel!! What did your father tell you about working with humans?"

Ariel answers, "But they really need my help!"

Meanwhile, oil billows out below and the caption reads "The failure of plan ABCDEFGHIJKLM, with all but the last letter crossed out.

I was Ariel, with my hardhat and my wrench and my toolbox naiively rushing out to fix a problem that was beyond my ability to solve.

The caption could have represented all the "fixes" I did that failed to resolve anything.

Ice crystals always developed in my concrete box.

Today's Reminder in ODAT once again tells me "I will apply the wisdom of the First Step (admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable) not only to my relations with the alcoholic, but to all the people and happenings in my life. I will not attempt to manage or control what is clearly beyond my powers; I will dedicate myself to managing my own life, and only mine."

Today, I still have my toolbox. But I've replaced the tools with those I've acquired in Al-Anon. And the only person I use them on is myself.

Needed: Courage to Change

One of my favorite things about Al-Anon is the Just for Todays.

Since my first Al-Anon meeting, I have thought they contained the recipe for a good life.

The only thing was, how could anyone possibly do those all those things every day? I mean, spending "a quiet half-hour all myself" to relax sounds like heaven. But some days I could barely manage to get dinner on the table, nevermind a quiet half hour.

Then there was this one:

"Just for Today, I will do someone a good turn and not get found out."

That was the one I couldn't get my head around. I wasn't that creative. How could I think of something like that to do every day?

Then, at a meeting, the woman who was delivering a greeting for the newcomers talked about the Just for Todays. She said the suggestion she had been given was to focus on just one of those Just for Todays each day.

"Some days, it's all I can do just to 'be courteous and criticize not one bit,'" I remember her saying.

I was grateful for that bit of advice. But I confess it allowed me to pick and choose the Just for Todays I liked the best.

Doing someone a good turn and not get found out still bedevils me.

If it bedevils you, too, I can offer a suggestion.

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know of the Al-Anon service work that I do in the state prison, and you no doubt remember that the meeting I attend struggles with attendance. But that's not the case with all the meetings.

There are six different facilities in the prison, and each of them has an Al-Anon program. Some of them are quite large and growing. The prison coordinator, who is my Al-Anon partner at the meeting I attend, told me they are struggling to fill the demand for books.

At this point, the prison has only authorized the book "Courage to Change."

When they attend Al-Anon meetings, inmates bring an attendance sheet that is signed by the Al-Anon volunteers at the meeting. Once they have attended six meetings, they are given a book.

The only problem is that there haven't been enough book donations to cover the number of inmates who have earned them.

The prison coordinator, who lives in a different district closer to the prison, asked me to coordinate a donation effort in my district. I'm doing that.

But I thought I'd also bring my appeal here.

If you're looking for a way to be of service, that won't cost you much in time or money but that could make a big difference in someone's life, I'd ask you to consider the donation of a new or used "Courage to Change."

My local Al-Anon information center stores the books for the prison program. If you are interested in helping, I'd ask that you send a copy of "Courage to Change" or a check for $12 with a note that you'd like to purchase a copy of "Courage to Change" for the prison. In either case, please be sure to clearly indicate that you intend your donation for the prison program.

Here's the address:

East Valley Al-Anon Information Center 1320E Broadway Rd, Ste #109, Mesa AZ 85204

Thank you.

Hubby and I are off on assignment later today and will be gone for a few days. I hope you all stay well. I'll drop by for a visit when we return.

Spring Cleaning

Having recently had my birthday, I’m in the process of a new fourth step.

In my line of sponsorship, we do a new fourth step every year, once we finish working the steps.

The first is a narrative fourth step. The second is an AA-style inventory taken straight out of the Big Book. Every year after that, we begin “peeling the onion,” as my sponsor puts it, by taking a focused topic and doing an inventory on that topic.

Doing this second inventory is interesting to me. Having a different format makes me think of things a little differently. Some things I hadn’t addressed directly and straightforwardly in my first fourth step, like my fears. Though they lingered on every page.

But what strikes me most about this time around is how much lighter it feels.

My first inventory felt like that kind of cleaning and organizing that requires months of work in little pieces, moving from room to room to decide what to keep, what to donate, what to throw away.

It felt overwhelming at times. So much had accumulated.

I felt like one of those garage renovation projects you see on TV, where a consultant comes in toting heavy equipment, armed with tips, hooks, plastic boxes and a label maker.

In the thick of things, it gets messy. Stuff is strewn in piles all over the driveway and lawn. It seems things will never get put back together. Then there’s the shot at the end: the floor is clean, the bikes and garden tools are neatly organized and hung up in their places, and the owner drives the car into the garage for the first time in years.

That’s what my first inventory felt like.

This time feels more like a good spring cleaning. There are a few cobwebs. The shelves have gotten dusty. I’ve let some of the junk mail pile up.

But it’s more like a Saturday job. Easily managed with a little help from Mr. Clean. It’s the kind of spring cleaning that makes you feel good, even as you’re doing it.

Then, at the end of the day, you collapse into a chair with your favorite tea, the scent of pine cleaner still in the air. The muscles might feel a little sore. But only a little, and in a good way.