I have spent the past thirty minutes wrestling with a knitting pattern. I'm attempting to learn two new stitches AND add a second color (not in the original pattern.) What I have envisioned is exactly what I want and so I fight with the yarn, pattern and needles to see if it's even possible to achieve exactly what I want. All this under Tesla's close supervision, of course.
I think I've finally figured it out but I'll have to try it tomorrow. I'm currently too tense and cross-eyed to continue.
---
People in recovery often talk about the the three A's. Awareness, acceptance and action. It's impossible to change something if I'm unaware, so I've come to see awareness as a gift. I become aware (slowly or suddenly) of something about myself that I'd like to do differently. Maybe a habitual thought or maybe a familiar reaction. Whatever it is, I'm aware of it now and want to try something else.
So I jump to action. Because that's what I want to do - change it. Change it now. Take charge, come up with all the answers myself and stay in control.
I have completely ignored the acceptance piece of it.
Without paying close attention to the acceptance step I tend to remain in judgement of myself and whatever it is I'd like to try and change. I find myself refusing to admit the full reality of whatever my awareness has just shown me. I jump to action as quickly as possible because I'd like to stay in control and change right away! I prefer to minimize and deny and look for some little quick-fix rule. I jump to action in order to stay slightly in denial. I'm insecure and don't want to risk full awareness because of what it might mean about myself. Maybe I really am all-bad and there is no hope? Let's not stop to find out! Onward!
This doesn't end well. I can't change myself and when I try it often works for a little while and ends with increasing amounts of harsh self-criticism.
Acceptance is a hard thing for me to give myself. Acceptance all the time, wherever I am in the process. It's an easy thing for God to give myself.
I think I've equated "acceptance" to "apathy." If I accept something then that means there's nothing at all I can do and I'm miserable and hopeless and just have to deal with the way things are forever and ever.
But that's not true. Acceptance just means seeing reality and agreeing with it.
Full, deep acceptance is good news because then I can move on to actions that will be far more helpful than the actions that came without acceptance.
---
“For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”
― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Showing posts with label 12-step. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 12-step. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Scenarios
Last night I saw the moon rise and it was stunning. Giant, golden, gorgeous and low on the horizon against a dark blue sky. In that first moment I want to call up everyone I know who might care, "You guys! The MOON! Go look RIGHT NOW!" But I don't because who does that (well, me, but only if it's really REALLY picturesque.) After I mentally run through the list of anyone who may be in a position to stop what they're doing and gaze at the moon, I wish for a camera and a hill and no city lights and while I'm at it some really great trees to silhouette1 against it, etc., etc.. Instead, I kept driving, craning my neck for another glance whenever I could.
---
This morning I saw the moon set. It startled me even more awake than I already wasn't - giant, pearly and glowing against a soft blue sky. I took a horrible picture with my horrible phone2 from myhorrible kitchen window. Then I called for everyone in the house to come see. (The moon, not my picture.) But here, you can see the picture, since you probably missed it this morning. It's three trillion times better in person, I assure you.
My bad, this is not from the kitchen window. This is taken from the window above the piano keyboard.
---
I'm reading Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words and as a result am becoming even more acutely aware that I majored in biology and not journalism. Boy do editors have a lot to remember. I enjoy writing and words as a means to an end, which is the expression of ideas. I'm not so terribly concerned about grammar and spelling as long as the person I'm communicating with (a lot of the time the person is only me) can readily understand the idea/meaning/concept. I've gotten much sloppier in my old age and as the amount of reading I'm doing has decreased. Also, my ideas are less clear and more muddy in my brain. This may be due to children stealing my brain cells or lack of practice or both.
---
Sometimes I feel like the avocado seeds I'm trying to grow. For almost four weeks they've sat in cups of water on my window sill, each one suspended by three toothpicks. I top off the water and wait expectantly. "Any day now!" I think optimistically as I inspect the almost-completely-unchanged seed. It looks a little grungier - sort of bruised and cracked in spots. Certainly not capable of pushing life out of it.
But I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
Sometimes I feel like I go through periods of enormous internal growth but nothing becomes visible externally for quite a while. I know I've changed. I FEEL changed. But I don't LOOK changed to other people. I wish I could force it. I wish I could burst forth into a glorious fruit-producing tree overnight and people would oooh and aaah and come sit in my shade and want to know my secret3. I wish that just seeing where I want to be was enough to get me there. I wish that the process wouldn't take so long or require so much, sometimes. I wish to jump ahead and enjoy the fruits without very much labor.
I wish I had a more mature perspective.
Proverbs has a verse about this: "There is profit in all hard work, but endless talk leads only to poverty."
Right. Thanks, Proverbs. I think I'd rather listen to Leviticus on this one: "You must not do any work at all! This is a permanent law for you, and it must be observed from generation to generation wherever you live." (Isn't that the most lovely Bible verse you've ever seen? [Talk about picking and choosing parts of the Bible to fit personal tastes!])
Then there's the verse I love to hate in Galatians: "So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up."
I have actually quoted this verse to a Christian counselor along with the somewhat martyr-like, self-centered exclamation, "I am SO tired of doing good. I'm just DONE! How much longer do I have to do good? Can I stop yet? I mean seriously. Where's my harvest of blessing?!" I can't remember the reply I got that day but today I remind myself that inner change is change and it is a blessing. Harvests don't have to be external to count. I have a MUCH better relationship with myself today than I did five months ago. Eventually, at just the right time, others will experience a much better relationship with me, too. I really hope it's sooner than later but for now I'm content to work on what I know I need to do and trust that the process will lead to healing and whole relationships outside of me as well.
I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
---
1I just spelled that correctly the first time for what I believe may be the first time in my entire life.
2But don't you fear! I'll be getting an iPhone 5 tomorrow!
3The secret is... there isn't one!
---
This morning I saw the moon set. It startled me even more awake than I already wasn't - giant, pearly and glowing against a soft blue sky. I took a horrible picture with my horrible phone2 from my
My bad, this is not from the kitchen window. This is taken from the window above the piano keyboard.
---
I'm reading Bryson's Dictionary of Troublesome Words and as a result am becoming even more acutely aware that I majored in biology and not journalism. Boy do editors have a lot to remember. I enjoy writing and words as a means to an end, which is the expression of ideas. I'm not so terribly concerned about grammar and spelling as long as the person I'm communicating with (a lot of the time the person is only me) can readily understand the idea/meaning/concept. I've gotten much sloppier in my old age and as the amount of reading I'm doing has decreased. Also, my ideas are less clear and more muddy in my brain. This may be due to children stealing my brain cells or lack of practice or both.
---
Sometimes I feel like the avocado seeds I'm trying to grow. For almost four weeks they've sat in cups of water on my window sill, each one suspended by three toothpicks. I top off the water and wait expectantly. "Any day now!" I think optimistically as I inspect the almost-completely-unchanged seed. It looks a little grungier - sort of bruised and cracked in spots. Certainly not capable of pushing life out of it.
But I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
Sometimes I feel like I go through periods of enormous internal growth but nothing becomes visible externally for quite a while. I know I've changed. I FEEL changed. But I don't LOOK changed to other people. I wish I could force it. I wish I could burst forth into a glorious fruit-producing tree overnight and people would oooh and aaah and come sit in my shade and want to know my secret3. I wish that just seeing where I want to be was enough to get me there. I wish that the process wouldn't take so long or require so much, sometimes. I wish to jump ahead and enjoy the fruits without very much labor.
I wish I had a more mature perspective.
Proverbs has a verse about this: "There is profit in all hard work, but endless talk leads only to poverty."
Right. Thanks, Proverbs. I think I'd rather listen to Leviticus on this one: "You must not do any work at all! This is a permanent law for you, and it must be observed from generation to generation wherever you live." (Isn't that the most lovely Bible verse you've ever seen? [Talk about picking and choosing parts of the Bible to fit personal tastes!])
Then there's the verse I love to hate in Galatians: "So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up."
I have actually quoted this verse to a Christian counselor along with the somewhat martyr-like, self-centered exclamation, "I am SO tired of doing good. I'm just DONE! How much longer do I have to do good? Can I stop yet? I mean seriously. Where's my harvest of blessing?!" I can't remember the reply I got that day but today I remind myself that inner change is change and it is a blessing. Harvests don't have to be external to count. I have a MUCH better relationship with myself today than I did five months ago. Eventually, at just the right time, others will experience a much better relationship with me, too. I really hope it's sooner than later but for now I'm content to work on what I know I need to do and trust that the process will lead to healing and whole relationships outside of me as well.
I have hope because I have seen it happen before.
---
1I just spelled that correctly the first time for what I believe may be the first time in my entire life.
2But don't you fear! I'll be getting an iPhone 5 tomorrow!
3The secret is... there isn't one!
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
I (don't) get it.
"I don't get it."
Val says this to me sometimes, in conversation. She's earnestly trying to understand something and I'm just as earnestly trying to explain but sometimes I can't explain adequately and we have to accept that she doesn't get it, for now. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to her now. I trust and know this but it's difficult for her to grasp. She wants to know. And if she wants to, why can't she? I know how she feels.
The last time I remember her saying this to me was as I tried to explain and why and how a heart attack happens.
"I don't get it," she said, "why can't the person know when it happens? How come some people live and some people die?" To her this seems incredibly unjust. To me, too.
I could see her working through the concepts I gave her -- thinking and reasoning... maybe trying to find a way to guarantee heart attack prevention in herself or people she loves. I do that, too, on more levels than just heart attacks.
I explained what I know about human bodies and that a heart attack can happen from a combination of things that can be controlled and sometimes a heart attack can happen because of something outside our control, even when we're doing the best we can. Even when we're doing it "right." Bodies can break. Some bodies are born broken. They aren't always fixed. This is a difficult truth for her to understand. It is for me, too.
She had a hole in her heart when she was born. I forgot to tell her that. She doesn't have it, now, and I am thankful. I was thankful before, too. It seemed nothing at all compared to Trisomy 18, which seemed briefly possible.
Life is a gift however it's handed to us.
But I still don't get it.
I feel like Val, sometimes, when I talk with someone who is more emotionally whole and healthy than I am. My sponsor and other friends in recovery, mostly. Some people go to my church and some go to other churches and some I see at my weekly 12-step group. A completely fascinating bunch of people. (I think maybe I'm easily fascinated by people.)
They answer my fumbling, awkward questions and talk and open their heart and share experiential truth that makes them practically SHINE with peace and love and grace and acceptance. It's what drew me to them in the first place. And I dutifully listen and sometimes take notes but a lot of the time, especially initially, I sat there feeling confused and slightly stupid.
"I don't get it. How come? Why? I don't get it." I felt dull and thick-headed."Can't the person just know when they're going to hurt and prevent it? Why do so many people hurt?"
I want what these strong, grounded, loving people have. I want to be like them. I want to listen and hopefully learn.
They smiled and encouraged and didn't judge and returned my calls and listened to my words and didn't try and fix me and listened reflectively, again and again and again. They continue to answer my questions and not once have made me feel stupid for asking the same thing or for being in the same situation again and again and again. (I've made myself feel stupid.)
I can see my progress, though. Today, this minute, I LIKE myself. I like me, beck, who I am right now. I've stopped judging myself constantly. (!!) I've learned so much about me and I've accepted it and I've taken different actions than I used to. Actions that sometimes lead to... serenity! Now? Well, more than there used to be.
My current struggle has to do with feeling and experiencing a personal connection to a loving Higher Power. I struggle with God. I know a lot but I haven't experienced a lot, personally. I love to listen to people with a strong, healthy connection to God. I love to hear how God works in the lives of people I know and I love to read about God working in the lives of people I don't know.
I'm starting to experience more. I'm starting to make progress and SEE progress. I'm learning to trust. I'm learning to be grateful for a power outside of me, who restores me to sanity and provides all I need.
I still don't get it, a lot of the time. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to me now. If the apostle Paul can learn to be content, I suppose that means it's possible for me, too. In the meantime, I have ample opportunity to practice trust.
Val says this to me sometimes, in conversation. She's earnestly trying to understand something and I'm just as earnestly trying to explain but sometimes I can't explain adequately and we have to accept that she doesn't get it, for now. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to her now. I trust and know this but it's difficult for her to grasp. She wants to know. And if she wants to, why can't she? I know how she feels.
The last time I remember her saying this to me was as I tried to explain and why and how a heart attack happens.
"I don't get it," she said, "why can't the person know when it happens? How come some people live and some people die?" To her this seems incredibly unjust. To me, too.
I could see her working through the concepts I gave her -- thinking and reasoning... maybe trying to find a way to guarantee heart attack prevention in herself or people she loves. I do that, too, on more levels than just heart attacks.
I explained what I know about human bodies and that a heart attack can happen from a combination of things that can be controlled and sometimes a heart attack can happen because of something outside our control, even when we're doing the best we can. Even when we're doing it "right." Bodies can break. Some bodies are born broken. They aren't always fixed. This is a difficult truth for her to understand. It is for me, too.
She had a hole in her heart when she was born. I forgot to tell her that. She doesn't have it, now, and I am thankful. I was thankful before, too. It seemed nothing at all compared to Trisomy 18, which seemed briefly possible.
Life is a gift however it's handed to us.
But I still don't get it.
I feel like Val, sometimes, when I talk with someone who is more emotionally whole and healthy than I am. My sponsor and other friends in recovery, mostly. Some people go to my church and some go to other churches and some I see at my weekly 12-step group. A completely fascinating bunch of people. (I think maybe I'm easily fascinated by people.)
They answer my fumbling, awkward questions and talk and open their heart and share experiential truth that makes them practically SHINE with peace and love and grace and acceptance. It's what drew me to them in the first place. And I dutifully listen and sometimes take notes but a lot of the time, especially initially, I sat there feeling confused and slightly stupid.
"I don't get it. How come? Why? I don't get it." I felt dull and thick-headed."Can't the person just know when they're going to hurt and prevent it? Why do so many people hurt?"
I want what these strong, grounded, loving people have. I want to be like them. I want to listen and hopefully learn.
They smiled and encouraged and didn't judge and returned my calls and listened to my words and didn't try and fix me and listened reflectively, again and again and again. They continue to answer my questions and not once have made me feel stupid for asking the same thing or for being in the same situation again and again and again. (I've made myself feel stupid.)
I can see my progress, though. Today, this minute, I LIKE myself. I like me, beck, who I am right now. I've stopped judging myself constantly. (!!) I've learned so much about me and I've accepted it and I've taken different actions than I used to. Actions that sometimes lead to... serenity! Now? Well, more than there used to be.
My current struggle has to do with feeling and experiencing a personal connection to a loving Higher Power. I struggle with God. I know a lot but I haven't experienced a lot, personally. I love to listen to people with a strong, healthy connection to God. I love to hear how God works in the lives of people I know and I love to read about God working in the lives of people I don't know.
I'm starting to experience more. I'm starting to make progress and SEE progress. I'm learning to trust. I'm learning to be grateful for a power outside of me, who restores me to sanity and provides all I need.
I still don't get it, a lot of the time. And that's okay. Experience and time and growth will teach and make sense out of what doesn't make sense to me now. If the apostle Paul can learn to be content, I suppose that means it's possible for me, too. In the meantime, I have ample opportunity to practice trust.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Keys to joy
88 wonderful (electronic) keys are back in the apartment and I am quite thankful for the return of my parents' keyboard. Judging by the number of spontaneous dance sessions today I think the girls are, too. All that needs to happen for optimal keyboarding is the soldering of one side of my headphones and hopefully that will happen tomorrow, with the help of my dad.
---
I lately feel as though I'm approaching life in much the same way I approached college final exams. I knew they existed and would eventually come to pass, but I tried not to think too much about it and many times spent hours and hours doing just about everything else INSTEAD prepare or study for them. I did manage to acquire a degree in biology with a fairly average GPA (the "just about everything else" often included playing volleyball at the conveniently-located beach.) I'm not sure what that says about a) the difficulty of the exams or b) my intelligence or c) both.
I arrive at the start of each day and for some reason I feel like dragging my feet. I want to put it off. I'm afraid to dive in? Or it's too threatening (!?) to face head on. Or maybe I'll fail? At... something? I'm not sure. I have a hunch it has to do with the fear that I may just maybe might possibly not do something "right." So then I feel hopeless. And do a lot of nothing or whatever is the bare minimum.
It's not really that great of a system. I'm not happy with it. I'm not happy with the resulting effects on my kids and husband. Also me. I miss joy.
Parenting and stay-at-home-momming is intimidating to me. It doesn't really come naturally, at least not all of it. I guess I haven't managed to work out a reasonable set of expectations for myself, yet. Especially expectations that don't hinge (almost entirely) on what my husband thinks I should do or be. Or expectations that result from comparing myself to whichever wonderful friend I have who excels in whatever area I'm mulling over. Or comparing myself to my mom, or his mom, and what she would do. 12-step recovery work has helped in this regard.
I've been slow to warm up to parenting and stay-at-homing. It was hard for me to leave work, where I felt like I was part of a great team that was doing measurable GOOD in the world and I got PAID for my efforts and there were attainable goals and measurable progress and clear expectations. I knew what to do to make and keep people happy! That's almost always never the case here at home. I don't even know what to do to make and keep ME happy (hint: trying to keep other people happy isn't the solution.)
Parenting is kind of muddy and messy and it's pretty much all I do. That and however much of the house I feel like maintaining, which hasn't been very much, lately.
I'd LIKE to believe that "my best is enough" but that's kind of at odds with a belief I've had for decades and have recently been trying to get rid of: "you're not done until it's perfect" (how's that one for endlessly depressing?!)
But, through all the muddy and messy parts of parenting and stay-at-home-momming, I'm pretty sure I've come quite a long way in learning more about myself and others and the experience has made me a slightly more well-rounded person. So I guess I'm thankful for that.
But I really wish I could shake this hopeless feeling. The endless, repetitive cycle of chores that are NEVER done, doing them over and over and over again, and even if something is temporarily "done" then I'm probably forgetting something else... it really wears me down.
My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough.
---
I lately feel as though I'm approaching life in much the same way I approached college final exams. I knew they existed and would eventually come to pass, but I tried not to think too much about it and many times spent hours and hours doing just about everything else INSTEAD prepare or study for them. I did manage to acquire a degree in biology with a fairly average GPA (the "just about everything else" often included playing volleyball at the conveniently-located beach.) I'm not sure what that says about a) the difficulty of the exams or b) my intelligence or c) both.
I arrive at the start of each day and for some reason I feel like dragging my feet. I want to put it off. I'm afraid to dive in? Or it's too threatening (!?) to face head on. Or maybe I'll fail? At... something? I'm not sure. I have a hunch it has to do with the fear that I may just maybe might possibly not do something "right." So then I feel hopeless. And do a lot of nothing or whatever is the bare minimum.
It's not really that great of a system. I'm not happy with it. I'm not happy with the resulting effects on my kids and husband. Also me. I miss joy.
Parenting and stay-at-home-momming is intimidating to me. It doesn't really come naturally, at least not all of it. I guess I haven't managed to work out a reasonable set of expectations for myself, yet. Especially expectations that don't hinge (almost entirely) on what my husband thinks I should do or be. Or expectations that result from comparing myself to whichever wonderful friend I have who excels in whatever area I'm mulling over. Or comparing myself to my mom, or his mom, and what she would do. 12-step recovery work has helped in this regard.
I've been slow to warm up to parenting and stay-at-homing. It was hard for me to leave work, where I felt like I was part of a great team that was doing measurable GOOD in the world and I got PAID for my efforts and there were attainable goals and measurable progress and clear expectations. I knew what to do to make and keep people happy! That's almost always never the case here at home. I don't even know what to do to make and keep ME happy (hint: trying to keep other people happy isn't the solution.)
Parenting is kind of muddy and messy and it's pretty much all I do. That and however much of the house I feel like maintaining, which hasn't been very much, lately.
I'd LIKE to believe that "my best is enough" but that's kind of at odds with a belief I've had for decades and have recently been trying to get rid of: "you're not done until it's perfect" (how's that one for endlessly depressing?!)
But, through all the muddy and messy parts of parenting and stay-at-home-momming, I'm pretty sure I've come quite a long way in learning more about myself and others and the experience has made me a slightly more well-rounded person. So I guess I'm thankful for that.
But I really wish I could shake this hopeless feeling. The endless, repetitive cycle of chores that are NEVER done, doing them over and over and over again, and even if something is temporarily "done" then I'm probably forgetting something else... it really wears me down.
My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Step three
I have been irritable and lethargic all day. Tough day to practice self-care where self-care does not equal isolation and/or escape.
I read a little out of this book and found the following paragraph on page 53:
Progress not perfection, as they say. I currently am stuck with the feeling that any and all choices I may pick regarding anything will invariably turn out to be the "wrong" one, somehow, and so why even bother? I'm not going to get it "right" so I'll just, I don't know, do nothing and sink further into hopelessness and despair? Because that's logical?!
I absolutely love this thought:
I read a little out of this book and found the following paragraph on page 53:
When I first began recovering, I feared it was a brainwashing of sorts. Now I see that my life before recovery contained the brainwashing. This program has set me free.Of course, my cynical much-yet-un-recovered self thinks that that is JUST the sort of thing a brainwashed person would say. Also of course, I can't exactly say that my life before recovery was anything like "free."
Progress not perfection, as they say. I currently am stuck with the feeling that any and all choices I may pick regarding anything will invariably turn out to be the "wrong" one, somehow, and so why even bother? I'm not going to get it "right" so I'll just, I don't know, do nothing and sink further into hopelessness and despair? Because that's logical?!
I absolutely love this thought:
"Patience means caring for myself and taking baby steps while I wait for something that is likely to happen. Procrastination means abandoning myself and doing nothing while I wait for something external that is unlikely to happen. Patience waits with courage, and takes the smallest baby steps, over and over. Procrastination waits in fear, paralysis, and inertia. Patience waits with belief in my effort. Procrastination waits for an effort by someone else."Patience in recovery! How crucial.
- Susan from the FlyLady emails
Friday, October 5, 2012
Life and death
I started writing this on Friday and have come back to it a few times since then. It's likely written more for me than to anyone else.
---
Today has been excruciatingly difficult for me, emotionally. My codependency, this "disease" as some people call it, results in me neglecting myself on every level - physical, emotional, spiritual. On difficult days this is something I'm increasingly aware of. This habit is not healthy and it is very, very, very familiar. Neglecting myself doesn't work for me or anyone, ultimately, and so I am intentionally doing what I can to take care of myself instead. It's a slow-going process.
I sometimes wish there was a way to feel awful, sucky feelings without it sucking so awfully much. I hate feeling awful, sucky feelings. I've tried not to be human and not to have human needs or feelings for a long time.
---
On page 207 of "Codependents' Guide To The Twelve Steps" by Melody Beattie, Bill Wilson (the original writer of the steps) is quoted as saying, "...but obviously you can't transmit something you haven't got."
Obviously! And it IS obvious but I forget. I sometimes think I can just parent carefully enough and then my children will end up emotionally mature, somehow. Or that they can be at peace and secure in who they are. Or that they will have good and balanced boundaries and develop healthy patterns of self-care.
Quite simply, I canNOT transmit something I haven't got! There's so much I want to transmit to my children (and to others) and the way I get it is through looking at my own issues and recovering myself. Only after I do that am I really going to be any true help to someone who struggles similarly. I've heard it likened to putting your own oxygen mask on before helping anyone else get theirs secured.
---
One of the best parts of recovery, for me, is the process of strengthening my relationship with God. It's been tough going, sometimes. I've had many misconceptions about God and I'm happy to report that God isn't the slightest bit insecure about my misconceptions of him. He just goes on being who He is and I'm slowly beginning to trust Him to be who He is.
I've read the entire Bible at least once, possibly more than once, and certain parts of it hundreds and hundreds of times. (Not so) amazingly, I'm still learning new things!
This year BSF groups are studying Genesis. The second chapter talks about the trees at the center of the garden of evil. Easy. I've known this almost all my life. The tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Then God tells Adam and Eve not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because if they do, they'll die. I never thought about that tree as being a "tree of death" but that's what it is. Tree of life and tree of death. Eat from this one and do not eat from that one. This one (and the others) are good for you but that one isn't. And God told them ahead of time, before anything happened!
So they meet the serpent and eat the fruit from the tree of death. Turns out they didn't die immediately but their choice to believe the serpent and ignore God's warning resulted in separation from God.
When I read this story as a child, a part of me always thought that God was punishing them or being excessively harsh. Kind of like he jumped up and began throwing curses at them. "You ate from that tree? Well, I'll show YOU. First of all, get out. Now you have to suffer and work harder and eventually you'll die." A lot of space is given to the consequences of Adam and Eve's choice, but he had warned them, beforehand. He knew what was good for them and what wasn't and enjoyed a relationship with them. He told them the truth about that tree of death and then through their choices they experienced the truth about that tree. He loved them; that's why he told them ahead of time what they could trust to be true.
For some reason this was a moderate breakthrough for me.
God tells me the truth, too. He asks me to trust him, too. He does not force his will on me; he invites me to walk in his will because he loves me. The things that happen to me are not punishment for me messing up somehow. Because of Jesus, God is with me all the time because he wants to be and because he loves me.
---
I am so glad that the 12-step program is a spiritual one. I'm not sure it could be as successful if it wasn't.
---
Today has been excruciatingly difficult for me, emotionally. My codependency, this "disease" as some people call it, results in me neglecting myself on every level - physical, emotional, spiritual. On difficult days this is something I'm increasingly aware of. This habit is not healthy and it is very, very, very familiar. Neglecting myself doesn't work for me or anyone, ultimately, and so I am intentionally doing what I can to take care of myself instead. It's a slow-going process.
I sometimes wish there was a way to feel awful, sucky feelings without it sucking so awfully much. I hate feeling awful, sucky feelings. I've tried not to be human and not to have human needs or feelings for a long time.
---
On page 207 of "Codependents' Guide To The Twelve Steps" by Melody Beattie, Bill Wilson (the original writer of the steps) is quoted as saying, "...but obviously you can't transmit something you haven't got."
Obviously! And it IS obvious but I forget. I sometimes think I can just parent carefully enough and then my children will end up emotionally mature, somehow. Or that they can be at peace and secure in who they are. Or that they will have good and balanced boundaries and develop healthy patterns of self-care.
Quite simply, I canNOT transmit something I haven't got! There's so much I want to transmit to my children (and to others) and the way I get it is through looking at my own issues and recovering myself. Only after I do that am I really going to be any true help to someone who struggles similarly. I've heard it likened to putting your own oxygen mask on before helping anyone else get theirs secured.
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One of the best parts of recovery, for me, is the process of strengthening my relationship with God. It's been tough going, sometimes. I've had many misconceptions about God and I'm happy to report that God isn't the slightest bit insecure about my misconceptions of him. He just goes on being who He is and I'm slowly beginning to trust Him to be who He is.
I've read the entire Bible at least once, possibly more than once, and certain parts of it hundreds and hundreds of times. (Not so) amazingly, I'm still learning new things!
This year BSF groups are studying Genesis. The second chapter talks about the trees at the center of the garden of evil. Easy. I've known this almost all my life. The tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Then God tells Adam and Eve not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because if they do, they'll die. I never thought about that tree as being a "tree of death" but that's what it is. Tree of life and tree of death. Eat from this one and do not eat from that one. This one (and the others) are good for you but that one isn't. And God told them ahead of time, before anything happened!
So they meet the serpent and eat the fruit from the tree of death. Turns out they didn't die immediately but their choice to believe the serpent and ignore God's warning resulted in separation from God.
When I read this story as a child, a part of me always thought that God was punishing them or being excessively harsh. Kind of like he jumped up and began throwing curses at them. "You ate from that tree? Well, I'll show YOU. First of all, get out. Now you have to suffer and work harder and eventually you'll die." A lot of space is given to the consequences of Adam and Eve's choice, but he had warned them, beforehand. He knew what was good for them and what wasn't and enjoyed a relationship with them. He told them the truth about that tree of death and then through their choices they experienced the truth about that tree. He loved them; that's why he told them ahead of time what they could trust to be true.
For some reason this was a moderate breakthrough for me.
God tells me the truth, too. He asks me to trust him, too. He does not force his will on me; he invites me to walk in his will because he loves me. The things that happen to me are not punishment for me messing up somehow. Because of Jesus, God is with me all the time because he wants to be and because he loves me.
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I am so glad that the 12-step program is a spiritual one. I'm not sure it could be as successful if it wasn't.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Patience vs. procrastination
"Patience means caring for myself and taking baby steps while I wait for something that is likely to happen. Procrastination means abandoning myself and doing nothing while I wait for something external that is unlikely to happen. Patience waits with courage, and takes the smallest baby steps, over and over. Procrastination waits in fear, paralysis, and inertia. Patience waits with belief in my effort. Procrastination waits for an effort by someone else." - Susan from the FlyLady emails
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Self care
I've heard from more than once source that September can be a tough month for people who are already prone to mental imbalance. Something about the light. Heather mentions it here.
I think I've been doing pretty well, all things considered. Some things have slipped, but I'm trying to practice radical self-care (as Anne Lamott calls it) and allow myself the grace God's already given.
I don't deal with change particularly well and boy has our schedule changed over the past few weeks. During the summer the only things we did with any regularity were swimming lessons, church and recovery meetings. Now Val goes to kindergarten every weekday morning, Elaine goes to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings, AWANA is on Sunday evenings (where I am a Sparks secretary), swimming lessons for both girls are on Tuesday afternoon, BSF for Elaine and I on Wednesday mornings, Superman and I are attending a once a month couples class on Monday nights, the other Monday nights I go to a CoDA group, Tuesday nights we go to a church-related small group in someone's home, Wednesday nights Superman goes to a mens group, Thursday nights he leads a junior high boys small group, Friday night we all go to Celebrate Recovery, Saturday night is church and on Sundays I go to a different CoDA group while Superman returns to church for the junior high service. We walk or ride bikes to and from school on Mondays and Fridays and have a preschool carpool on Thursdays. And of course I'm still responsible for staying on top of the laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning and food preparation (school lunches every day!) and showering once in a while.
Sometimes I just need to look back and realize all this change and say, "Oh yeah. Look at all I'm handling and dealing with now that I wasn't just a few weeks ago. I should probably be kinder to myself."
Anyhow, September is almost done and it's felt like a whirlwind. I've needed medication on many days, and was thankful to have it. I look forward to this all feeling normal instead of overwhelming.
It's been just over one year that I've been in Codependents Anonymous and the next time I meet with my sponsor (which should be on Sunday) we'll cover the 12th step. I'm grateful for the progress I've made in my recovery work but I still need to keep the perspective of it being a process, a journey, not something I'll arrive at one day and be done. I keep thinking that's how life works (magically "arriving" and being "done") but it just isn't. I'm getting better and better at embracing this.
I think I've been doing pretty well, all things considered. Some things have slipped, but I'm trying to practice radical self-care (as Anne Lamott calls it) and allow myself the grace God's already given.
I don't deal with change particularly well and boy has our schedule changed over the past few weeks. During the summer the only things we did with any regularity were swimming lessons, church and recovery meetings. Now Val goes to kindergarten every weekday morning, Elaine goes to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings, AWANA is on Sunday evenings (where I am a Sparks secretary), swimming lessons for both girls are on Tuesday afternoon, BSF for Elaine and I on Wednesday mornings, Superman and I are attending a once a month couples class on Monday nights, the other Monday nights I go to a CoDA group, Tuesday nights we go to a church-related small group in someone's home, Wednesday nights Superman goes to a mens group, Thursday nights he leads a junior high boys small group, Friday night we all go to Celebrate Recovery, Saturday night is church and on Sundays I go to a different CoDA group while Superman returns to church for the junior high service. We walk or ride bikes to and from school on Mondays and Fridays and have a preschool carpool on Thursdays. And of course I'm still responsible for staying on top of the laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning and food preparation (school lunches every day!) and showering once in a while.
Sometimes I just need to look back and realize all this change and say, "Oh yeah. Look at all I'm handling and dealing with now that I wasn't just a few weeks ago. I should probably be kinder to myself."
Anyhow, September is almost done and it's felt like a whirlwind. I've needed medication on many days, and was thankful to have it. I look forward to this all feeling normal instead of overwhelming.
It's been just over one year that I've been in Codependents Anonymous and the next time I meet with my sponsor (which should be on Sunday) we'll cover the 12th step. I'm grateful for the progress I've made in my recovery work but I still need to keep the perspective of it being a process, a journey, not something I'll arrive at one day and be done. I keep thinking that's how life works (magically "arriving" and being "done") but it just isn't. I'm getting better and better at embracing this.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Well, what do you expect?
Last night I almost got up out of bed two or three times so I could write down phrases and words to describe a concept that's been floating around in my head.
It's still not neat or concise or complete in my head, but here it is. It's something I've realized about me.
The more tightly I grasp at and cling to my expectations of another person, the greater chance I will miss reality and the unique gift of who they really ARE (imperfections and all), instead of who or how I wish them to be. It's easy for me to get tunnel vision and no longer see all the wonderful things about them (or even the un-wonderful, but realistic things); I no longer am present and available to listen and care and offer love and support for where they are. I only see each time they once again fail to be... something that wasn't them, at least not in that particular moment. I'm only looking for who I want them to be, who I expect them to be, who they should be (according to me)... instead of who they are.
I've spent so much time and energy informing Superman of how he should be or think or act or feel. I've thrown so many internal (and external) tantrums when he did NOT behave how I thought he should. I've lined up expectation after unrealistic expectation along with lists of reasons as to why they should be reasonable... and in so doing have become quite miserable - so long as my happiness rests in whether or not he (or anyone) meets my expectations.
I've really been too afraid and insecure to put the focus on me. I'm the only one I really have any control over. It's so humbling, but I've got to start (and stay) with me. A fellow twelve-stepper described recovery work as being "painfully exhilarating."
Yes, it certainly is. And I've become so much happier as a result!
A man of lesser quality would not have put up with me for as long as Superman has. I'm supremely grateful for him. Just the way he is.
It's still not neat or concise or complete in my head, but here it is. It's something I've realized about me.
The more tightly I grasp at and cling to my expectations of another person, the greater chance I will miss reality and the unique gift of who they really ARE (imperfections and all), instead of who or how I wish them to be. It's easy for me to get tunnel vision and no longer see all the wonderful things about them (or even the un-wonderful, but realistic things); I no longer am present and available to listen and care and offer love and support for where they are. I only see each time they once again fail to be... something that wasn't them, at least not in that particular moment. I'm only looking for who I want them to be, who I expect them to be, who they should be (according to me)... instead of who they are.
I've spent so much time and energy informing Superman of how he should be or think or act or feel. I've thrown so many internal (and external) tantrums when he did NOT behave how I thought he should. I've lined up expectation after unrealistic expectation along with lists of reasons as to why they should be reasonable... and in so doing have become quite miserable - so long as my happiness rests in whether or not he (or anyone) meets my expectations.
I've really been too afraid and insecure to put the focus on me. I'm the only one I really have any control over. It's so humbling, but I've got to start (and stay) with me. A fellow twelve-stepper described recovery work as being "painfully exhilarating."
Yes, it certainly is. And I've become so much happier as a result!
A man of lesser quality would not have put up with me for as long as Superman has. I'm supremely grateful for him. Just the way he is.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Feelings
So when you express your feelings, particularly those less-desirable, yucky, dark feelings that you've tried to deny and ignore and repress? Turns out new feelings (usually more enjoyable ones) come to take their place!
And by "you" I entirely mean "me."
I've been (and still am) so terrified of feeling my feelings. I don't even know how to begin to process them most of the time.
But I'm learning, slowly.
Being honest with myself about my feelings is hard for me. Not judging myself and my feelings is even more difficult.
And by "you" I entirely mean "me."
I've been (and still am) so terrified of feeling my feelings. I don't even know how to begin to process them most of the time.
But I'm learning, slowly.
Being honest with myself about my feelings is hard for me. Not judging myself and my feelings is even more difficult.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Womenopause, and count to ten.
This morning at my CoDA group my turn to read fell on this paragraph from this book:
I went to two meetings this morning (met with my sponsor between them) and each time I spoke about my anger and my feelings/experiences/thoughts around it.
I'm not sure if I've ever had more people approach me after group, thanking me for "my share" (as we call it) and wanting to either talk about how it had resonated with them and/or offer encouragement/ideas/suggestions.
One lady's feedback was particularly amusing. She suggested I might be perimenopausal because what I described sounded to her very much like it could be menopause-related. She was very polite and patted my arm and "just wanted to put it out there."
I grinned widely and sincerely thanked her for the suggestion all the while cracking the heck UP internally.
Because honestly! How hilarious is that! Do I really look that old?! I mean it's true the meetings are at 8 am and that's absolutely not my best time of day... combined with the somber note of many of the topics discussed... but still! Utterly hilarious. Especially since I'll turn 30 on Friday. Exactly what I needed to hear, as if I'm not already feeling old enough, what with all these wrinkles that have suddenly decided to stay. WRINKLES AND MENOPAUSE. MY THIRTIES ARE DOOOOOOOOOMED. =)
She totally made my day.
And then I paused to share, because my recurring issue of late has been anger. And I'm equally baffled and appalled at the sheer... I don't even know the words. I can become very, very angry sometimes at the drop of a hat. I logically know that it's WAAAAAY overreacting, but the feeling is so powerfully overwhelming. I've frequently had to remove myself from the situation and calm down so I don't keep on hurling hurtful words in a cutting tone I'll so deeply regret later. It's been a while since I've been so angry, so the fact that I've been feeling it recently is kind of both alarming and depressing.
"I've learned this about myself and my recovery: When it's time for something to get my attention, I don't have to worry. The lesson won't go away. It will continue presenting itself until I deal with it. In a natural way, insights about ourselves will reveal themselves to us." (p. 161, Codependents' Guide To The Twelve Steps)
I went to two meetings this morning (met with my sponsor between them) and each time I spoke about my anger and my feelings/experiences/thoughts around it.
I'm not sure if I've ever had more people approach me after group, thanking me for "my share" (as we call it) and wanting to either talk about how it had resonated with them and/or offer encouragement/ideas/suggestions.
One lady's feedback was particularly amusing. She suggested I might be perimenopausal because what I described sounded to her very much like it could be menopause-related. She was very polite and patted my arm and "just wanted to put it out there."
I grinned widely and sincerely thanked her for the suggestion all the while cracking the heck UP internally.
Because honestly! How hilarious is that! Do I really look that old?! I mean it's true the meetings are at 8 am and that's absolutely not my best time of day... combined with the somber note of many of the topics discussed... but still! Utterly hilarious. Especially since I'll turn 30 on Friday. Exactly what I needed to hear, as if I'm not already feeling old enough, what with all these wrinkles that have suddenly decided to stay. WRINKLES AND MENOPAUSE. MY THIRTIES ARE DOOOOOOOOOMED. =)
She totally made my day.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Lent
I'd never been to a Lent service before tonight. There are ashes on my forehead now. Goodbye Twitter and Facebook. Good thing I ditched them before filling up my time with yet ANOTHER group.
After the Lent service I went to a 12-step group at church. It's women only and fairly structured in that there will be homework and you're expected to go weekly for 16 or so weeks. It'll be interesting to see how it'll fit into my life.
In addition to that I am in (and have been in) two Bible studies (also with daily homework.)
I like to learn. I also like to stuff my head full of information that I never quite get around to applying in my life. Or I'll apply it only when it's comfortable and non-threatening to do so. I really like knowing stuff. I really don't like to practice what I know (looking back at my track record thus far.) The 12-step work is good though, because it's all about applying. After a certain number of meetings you just can't not begin to see your life differently and working the program in some way is inevitable if you, as they say, keep (on) coming back.
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Our time as a one-car family is drawing to a close. Superman is needing his own (non-bicycle) wheels more and more often due to work. We'll definitely need another vehicle by the time Val starts kindergarten. It's been nice having just one car. I'll miss it. It made life simpler and saved us lots of fuel.
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Today didn't really go as I planned. I have a hard time with that, sometimes. I have a hard time not thinking that if I somehow had planned differently or been or done something differently, then things could have gone how I planned. That's just not always true.
After the Lent service I went to a 12-step group at church. It's women only and fairly structured in that there will be homework and you're expected to go weekly for 16 or so weeks. It'll be interesting to see how it'll fit into my life.
In addition to that I am in (and have been in) two Bible studies (also with daily homework.)
I like to learn. I also like to stuff my head full of information that I never quite get around to applying in my life. Or I'll apply it only when it's comfortable and non-threatening to do so. I really like knowing stuff. I really don't like to practice what I know (looking back at my track record thus far.) The 12-step work is good though, because it's all about applying. After a certain number of meetings you just can't not begin to see your life differently and working the program in some way is inevitable if you, as they say, keep (on) coming back.
---
Our time as a one-car family is drawing to a close. Superman is needing his own (non-bicycle) wheels more and more often due to work. We'll definitely need another vehicle by the time Val starts kindergarten. It's been nice having just one car. I'll miss it. It made life simpler and saved us lots of fuel.
---
Today didn't really go as I planned. I have a hard time with that, sometimes. I have a hard time not thinking that if I somehow had planned differently or been or done something differently, then things could have gone how I planned. That's just not always true.
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