AAA

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

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:

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."
- Susan from the FlyLady emails

 Patience in recovery! How crucial.

Love

Love (III)
- George Herbert

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
     Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
   From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
     If I lack'd any thing.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
     Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful? ah my dear,
     I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
     "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
     Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
    "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
   So I did sit and eat.

Lady Marion

I was visiting with my grandma on the phone the other day and she said this,

"I went to a birthday party of a lady who turned 104. She goes dancing every Friday night. She outlived three husbands and after the third one died she said she just didn't feel like getting married any more."

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.

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

Change and pain

These are two things I've been thinking about over the past few days. Many people recognize the first part of the serenity prayer but I find it so much more specifically encouraging in it's entirety.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace. Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it: trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will. So that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen.

 - Reinhold Niebuhr -

This next quote talks about pain and I was reminded of it in relation to asking God for things I want and then freely expressing my emotions and feelings to Him.

If we run from God, if we turn from God in the pain, we forfeit any prospect of finding hope, comfort, or meaning in it. If we run to Him in our desperation and grief we open ourselves up to all the resources of heaven, including the ways this battle can equip us with a compassion, an empathy, a perspective, and a grace that only those who've felt life's deepest wounds can know. We can choose. We can let pain make us a victim, or a wounded healer for a wounded world.

- Ron Hutchcraft -

Whatchoo lookin' at?

“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” ~ Dr. Wayne Dye

Feeling bad to feel better

"Pain with hope is better than comfort with hopelessness."

- Steve Arterburn

What a relief

"You can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count."

- Winnie the Pooh

Busy

“Being busy does not always mean real work.
The object of all work is production or accomplishment
and to either of these needs there must be
forethought, system, planning, intelligence,
and honest purpose as well as perspiration.
Seeming to do is not doing.”

~ Thomas Alva Edison

Holy curiosity (Batman.)

"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious. The important thing is not to stop questioning; curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when contemplating the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of the mystery every day. The important thing is not to stop questioning; never lose a holy curiosity." 

- Thomas Edison

Beckobiography

An Autobiography in 5 Short Chapters By Porsche Nelson

Chapter 1
I walk down the street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost; I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes me forever to find my way out.

Chapter 2
I walk down the same street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe that I'm in the same place, but it isn't my fault. It takes a long time to get out.

Chapter 3
I walk down the same street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see that it is there. I still fall in; it's a habit. My eyes are open; I know it's my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter 4
I walk down the same street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

Chapter 5
I walk down a different street.

---

I'm sorry to say that my life would have a chapter 2A, which would probably read something like this:

I walk down the same street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see that it is there. I want to check and make sure it's as deep as I remember it. For safety reasons. To warn others. I still fall in. It is a bit deeper than I remembered. It's a habit. My eyes are squeezed shut. I'd rather blame someone else. I whine about getting out, but do it eventually.

And chapter 2B, which would say this:

I walk down the same street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see that it is there. I think about walking around it but I have no idea what that would feel like, plus I've already grown accustomed the ladders I have in place for getting out of the hole. So, might as well fall in. I fall in. The hole is more or less how I remember it. Some of my ladders are in need of repair. I eventually make it out. It might be my fault, but only a little bit. I complain to the city's public works department.

Chapter 2C:

I walk down the same street and there's a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see that it is there. I start to walk around it but lose my balance as I try and pat myself on the back. I still fall in. Someone has removed all my favorite ladders (public works perhaps?) I claw my way out. My eyes are opening. It was my fault but it's not fair that I fell in because I was trying so hard to walk around.

 

That's a lot of unnecessary time spent in a hole, don't you think?

Insecure people cannot fail

Came across this on another blog today...

"I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it.”

–Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

That person who isn't even looking at their feet? And having boatloads more fun? I call him Superman. It sometimes makes me crazy looking at both my feet AND his feet (because if I don't, who on earth will?!?! ALL FEET MUST BE WATCHED. IT'S A RULE.) but man do I appreciate the grace he has for me and the love he has for life. I do a really good job of killing that in him some a lot of the time, and I don't want to, because it's everything I truly love about him.

 

Just a minute

I have only just a minute,
Only sixty seconds in it.

Forced upon me, can’t refuse it.
Didn’t seek it, didn’t choose it.
But it’s up to me
to use it.

I must suffer if I lose it.
Give account if I abuse it.

Just a tiny little minute,
but eternity is in it.

– Anonymous



Ow.

I relate to this one so well it's almost physically painful. (Think: MARRIAGE.)

“We are never so much disposed to quarrel with others as when we are dissatisfied with ourselves.”

--William Hazlitt

So right! So... write!

I have been a lifelong fan of Adventures in Odyssey which is the very best radio drama out there, in my opinion. They're so much more than "just stories for kids." I still look forward to each new album and impatiently wait for my mother to get done listening so I can borrow it. Philip Glossman, a notorious bad guy on the series, is voiced by Paul McCusker who is also a producer, writer and director of the show. During an interview I heard recently on this podcast, Paul described writers like this:

"I think any writer is absorbing - writers are leeches, okay, let me be clear about that. There is no human being we ever meet, no situation we encounter no matter how good or bad that there isn't part of us, somewhere in our brains where we're taking notes. We're always taking notes. We're taking our reality and filtering it through our writing. That's just the way we do it."

That's it. That's exactly it. I've done this for as long as I can remember. I don't do it well, yet. It's not as practiced and developed in me as it is in other writers. (I wouldn't even call myself a real "writer.")
This writer, for example has practiced and developed her skill. I'm in awe of her ability that appears so effortless (and she has two kids about the same age as mine!)

But I am always watching, observing and trying to remember and record. It doesn't matter if the situation is mundane or thrilling. I can't turn it off. It's like there's another version of me, a third party, a neutral fly-on-the wall that is taking notes and describing the situation. I'm constantly trying to figure out the best way to tell the story to which audience, always thinking of the perfect word formation or transition. If it doesn't come to me or I can't manufacture an acceptable alternative I'm very irritated at settling for second best, but the desire to write for the sake of writing usually takes precedence. Note: most of what I write on here is the second best. It's writing for the sake of writing. It's lazy writing. It's VERY tired writing. =)

In the past few years I've turned and watched myself watching people (wha?) and wondered if feeling a need to watch and take notes was a normal thing. No one else I know seems to do it. Well, a few, but we've always considered ourselves to be odd ducks.

I like to write, that's not a surprise to me, but until Paul phrased it like that I had never made the connection between the watching and mental note-taking and the urge to write. It makes SO much more sense now.

Of course writing (and a whole truck load of other things for that matter!) have all taken a backseat to my current role as caretaker of two precious little girls. But one day... some day... I hope to be able to nurture my writer-esque habits. Maybe even take some classes. There are so many stories I want to tell.

Like the falling of a leaf

My life is an instant, a fleeting hour.
My life is a moment, which swiftly escapes me.
Oh my God, you know
that on earth I have only today to love you.

(St. Therese of Lisieux)

A Parable

This story is fantastic. It was in another book as well, but I can't remember the title or author. I hope I'm not leaving out anyone who deserves credit.

(From: “In The Eye of the Storm” by Max Lucado)

A Parable

Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was
envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure.
A horse like this had never been seen before – such was its splendor, its majesty, its
strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused.
“This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you
sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?” The man
was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came
to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed. “We told you that someone would steal your
horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. Your are so poor. How could you
ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold
him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been
too high. Now the horse is gone, and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”

The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not
in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgement. If I’ve been cursed or not, how
can you know? How can you judge?”

The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be
philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is
gone is a curse.”

The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse
is gone. The rest I do not know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we
can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They
had always thought that he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and
lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man and still cutting
firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the
misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away in
the forest. Not only had he returned, he brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once
again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you
were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please
forgive us.”

The old man responded, “Once again you go too far. Say only that the horse is
back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you
know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the
whole story, how can you judge. You read only a page of a book. Can you judge the
whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire
phrase?”

“Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have
is a fragment! Don’t say this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I
know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.”

“Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But
down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild
horses had returned with one horse. With a little bit of work, the animals could be
broken and trained and sold for much money.

The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild
horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once
again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgements.
“You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses
were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs, and now in
your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”
The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so
far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who know if it is a blessing or a curse? No
one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”

It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a
neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army.
Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the
people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had
been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong,
and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.

“You were right, old man,” they wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it.
Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you.
Our sons are gone forever.”

The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk to you. You always draw
conclusions. No one knows. Say only this. Your sons had to go to war, and mine did
not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only

God knows.”

Tools

A Bag of Tools

Isn't it strange how princes and kings
And clowns that caper in sawdust rings
And common people, like you and me
Are builders for eternity?

Each is given a list of rules
A shapeless mass; a bag of tools
And each must fashion, ere life has flown
A stumbling block or a stepping stone.

by R. Lee Sharpe