Everything Changes

My daughter just celebrated four years of sobriety.  As I was sitting in her home group meeting watching her share I began reminiscing about when she first graduated from treatment and how unsure of herself she was.  She was struggling in this tiny apartment to etch out a living for herself.  Now she has four years, was just promoted to a position that put her and her two boys out of poverty level.  She and her boyfriend of two years have started talking about marriage.

I remember my own situation 14 years ago going through a divorce and a custody battle, hating my ex-husband and fearing everything. I went back to school wondering if I would ever make it or if I was smart enough. A friend described my early sobriety while he was sharing in a meeting on my birthday.  He said, “She was so nervous, she shook like a little Chihuahua.”  That was the truth.  Now my ex-husband and his wife are considered some of my best friends, I have a chemistry degree, I manage someone else’s business, drive a new car and am married to my soul mate.

During one of my worst times a friend of mine in the program said, “One thing I know for sure; everything changes.  Throughout the last 14 years when I’m frustrated, sad, feel stuck or depressed I take comfort in the fact that everything changes.  Change used to be frightening and quite frankly still is sometimes.  But when life takes a turn for the worst, I know that change is around the corner.

Life changed for my daughter in four short years.  Life changed for me.  Had I known that when I was worried I wouldn’t make it and full of anxiety, I might have enjoyed the journey.  I might have laughed with my children more, experienced more of college, been relaxed about dating, loved more, taken more baths and thought of others instead of myself.

I have a hard time remembering that when my back is against the wall at work or my husband needs to get his heart checked out or my kids tell me they are struggling with depression.  Tomorrow everything could be roses and when I get too confident in my position and my ego starts working, I have to remember that everything changes there too.  Tomorrow I could be knocked down a peg.  Life is that way.

So I think the point is to stay in the moment where peace abounds in any situation and not think about tomorrow.  I’m told tomorrow will take care of itself.  Everything changes.

Just for today, I’ll stay in the moment knowing that circumstances change and that peace is found in the now.

Checking Out

I was sick yesterday with the flu and was horrified when my Wi-Fi quit working because of the rain.  I was passing the time watching Netflix trying to zone out and not think about how lousy I felt.  I could have put in one of hundreds of DVD’s I own but I’ve been trying to practice mindfulness and thought that maybe this was a good opportunity to be connected to want is.  If I can’t even be there for myself and sit still when I’m sick or in pain, how can I be there for someone else who is sick and in pain.  I decided to just be for a little while.  I practiced some meditation and just drifted in and out of sleep.  When I was awake, I was at peace.

In early sobriety, I was hyper-agitated, anxiety ridden and everything in my life was a drama.  I was constantly worried about where my life was going to take me and how I was going to survive on my own.  I was told to stay in the moment.

I was driving down the freeway one afternoon on my way to school.  I was worried about an upcoming exam, I was worried about my kids, and I was worried about when my student grants were going to arrive.  I was so full of anxiety that I just couldn’t stand it anymore and finally remembered what I was told in a meeting, “Stay in the moment.”

“What does that even mean,” I thought to myself?  “I’m in the moment.  What are they trying to tell me?”  I’m racking my brain trying to ponder the meaning of this pat answer that I was given for my anxiety.  Finally it occurred to me that I was driving and maybe I should focus on my driving.  Then I realized that if I were focused on my driving or whatever else I was doing throughout the day that I probably wouldn’t have anxiety.

We live most of our lives zoning out.  We drive to work automatically and don’t even think about where we are or what we are doing.  We do our jobs on autopilot too.  When we come home we zone out in front of the TV or computer.  I’m not drunk anymore, but sometimes I still live my life checked out.  When I live my life on autopilot, my mind runs away with me and the anxiety creeps in.

I want to be present today.  I was at the state fair with my grandsons over the weekend and was there to see the amazement and amusement on my grandson’s face when he noticed the difference between a bull and a cow.  It had to be one of the top 100 moments of my life.  I was at the birth of another grandson.  I have four grandkids that I’ve been camping with and watched their personalities as they dealt with the outdoors and bugs and vaulted toilets.  It’s hilarious.   I don’t want to miss that stuff anymore.  In order not to miss it I have to be fully engaged and paying attention.  In order to be present for that sometimes it requires that we are present for the pain as well, my own and the pain of those I love.  I’ve watched teenagers struggle with finding their way and self- destructive tendencies.  I’ve watched a child struggle with being chronically ill.  I am watching now my second generation of children with their own emotional struggles.  I’ve watch friends die from alcoholism.  I’ve listened to countless stories of alcoholic women and the abuses they’ve suffered.  Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to check out for the pain, but life doesn’t work that way.  If I check out, I don’t notice the little things that make up the great moments of my life.

Just for today I’ll stay present.

Peace on Earth

The camping trip this weekend was a good chance to talk to my sons, especially while traveling.  They are very much like me when I was in my 20’s.  The world seems like a daunting place to be and when you are 20 and realize what a violent state the world is in and what a sad history our own country has, it seems discouraging.  They are young and energetic but wonder about how wise it is to bring children into the world; they wonder how they can choose careers that make a difference.  They feel like there is nothing they can really do anyway.  And like me, they tend to overthink the issues.

I struggled to find anything to say that could truly bring light into the subject or comfort.  I mumbled something about change starting at home and in our own lives and allowing that to ripple into our communities.  I don’t believe they really understood what I meant or how that would even work.  I thought about it all weekend.

I’m a recovering alcoholic.  My 12 step program suggests that I drink because I’m irritable and discontent.  In other words I drink because of a lack of peace.  When I drink, like most drunks, I’m prone to less than charitable behavior.  I’m self will run riot.  When 80 percent of the population in prisons are addicts and alcoholics, you might get the idea that it’s the lack of individual peace that causes all of the crimes.

It makes sense to me that if every person in the world were at peace, there would be peace on earth.  Violence would disappear.  So, peace starts with me.  When I’m agitated about my job, or my kids, or the economy, or traffic, or lack of peace in my country or in the world, I’m not at peace.  My family soon follows suit and we gripe together.  Pretty soon, they are griping with their friends and I’m griping with my friends.  Doesn’t it make sense that the mood would eventually reach the other side of the globe?

I’m not saying we should never do anything, and I’m not saying I live in perfect peace.  I’m just saying maybe it would be a start.  Maybe it’s time I let go of guilt, resentment and fear.  Those are the ones that cause me all of the trouble.  I don’t drink over them anymore, but they still sit there in the recesses of my mind quietly causing they’re destruction and robbing me of my serenity and possibly robbing my family and coworkers of their serenity.

Just for today I will practice developing a peaceful heart by letting go of guilt, resentment and fear.  Who knows who it might reach?

 

 

Peace and Gratitude

This weekend I have a camping trip planned.  When I pull out of the driveway in my little 16 foot trailer, it feels like the whole world melts away.  Underneath the stars in front of the fire, I try to think about all of the things I was worried about during the week and I can’t remember why I thought it was such a big deal or why it took up such space in my head.  I feel like my brain empties of all of the garbage and I can just be.  And I don’t have to be anything to anyone else.  I get to be who I am.  I’m at peace.

When I first got sober, I’d hear the word peace thrown around and I didn’t even really know what that meant.  I don’t think I had ever experienced it.  I was always worried about something.  People told me not to quit before the miracle happened and I really had no idea what they were talking about.  “Wasn’t the miracle that I was sober?” I was a wreck for almost three years and was only hanging on by my fingernails.

Then one day something changed for me.  I was at perfect peace for what felt like the first time in my life.  By staying in recovery and doing the things that others suggested I had somehow cultivated an environment of peace.  I didn’t experience it every day at first and don’t always experience it every day now, but I began to experience it more often and the intervals of peace began to get closer and closer together.

Today I can’t tolerate a prolonged period of irritability or discontentment in myself.  I know how to put myself in a peaceful state again.  It boils down to the basics of my 12 step program, talking to another alcoholic and doing what is suggested, going to a meeting, reading, writing, meditation and prayer.  It’s simple but really not easy.  I like to complicate it and try to find a way around doing what’s easy.  I’m always trying to think it away.

Another way that I’ve learned to cultivate peace is to nurture myself.  I always thought someone else should do that.  I was always angry if you didn’t sooth my feelings which were impossible to sooth away in the first place.  I’m an extremely emotional and an extremely passionate person.  I have strong feelings.  Today I recognize that this quality in myself is good and is useful in many areas of my life, but I am responsible to take care of my own feelings.  I nurture myself.

I take care of people all day.  I have employees and a husband, children and grandchildren.  Sometimes I have to stop and ask myself what will make me happy today.  I nurture myself.  It might be something as small as lighting a candle, or eating healthy.  It might be as large as a trip.  In the end, I’m responsible for what I feel.  What I’ve noticed is that feelings are always preceded by a thought.  I work on disciplining my thoughts by staying in gratitude.  Where there is gratitude, there is always peace.

Just for today I’m going to write in my gratitude journal.