Learning to fly ...

Golden wings
Originally uploaded by Giancarlo Scordo

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting
for this moment to arise ...
~ Beatles


As a kid, I had regular dreams of flying. They were quite exhilarating. I would "take off" by running really hard, then was suddenly propelled into the air, I would soar and look around and swoop and dive, and then when I was ready to land (this was always the scary part of the dream), I would be plummeting toward the ground, heart-racing, and then miraculously land right on my two feet and walk away. I probably had this very same dream over the course of 5-6 years, multiple times a year. And around age 12 or so, the dreams ceased along with my innocence about the world.

These flying dreams, looking back, felt like they represented what was possible. That I could travel anywhere my wings could take me and that the sky was full of limitless possibility, and, no matter if I fell, I would land on my feet. This has the feeling of the first glimpses of my Future Self making a formal appearance in my life.

By my late teens, "flight" was no longer about adventure and exploration, but rather it was about running away and escaping from the painful reality of life as I knew it. Alcohol was my pilot.

Something that alcoholics share in meetings quite often is that the allure of the liquor was for the effect ... it provided the illusory experience that all pain and discomfort was instantly obliterated and that one had extraordinary capabilities that defied odds, even gravity.
And then, when you are beaten down by the catastrophic and progressive deterioration of the booze, you eventually wake up to see that you are not the superhero you once believed you were and that, in fact, you are crawling on your belly to the toilet, begging for God's mercy to get you through the day and that you'll never do this again, just barely human.

The program of AA helps us mend our broken wings and teaches us how to fly again.

We alcoholics are a socially awkward lot without our booze-induced personalities. Not to mention the fact that once we put the bottles down, we are in the infancy stage of learning a lot of things -- some that simply declined due to our substance abuse and other things that we never learned at all. Like how to speak in public. Eat in a restaurant alone. Balance a checkbook and pay bills. Talk to people at a social gathering. Express feelings openly. Share a difficulty with another human. Ask for help. Admit being wrong. Make a sincere apology. Be present for a friend in need. Get to places on time. Keep promises. Be trustworthy.

I learned how to do some of these things right after getting sober; however, I didn't truly learn how to do many of these things until the past couple of years. And a few, just in the past 6 months. Very humbling to acknowledge this out loud.

I had a chance to observe how I've learned to "fly" in the following experience: this afternoon, I went to see musician friends playing a gig at a small bar in a quaint town that I adore. I went to this event alone, as 2 friends I was to meet up with there canceled at the last minute. I wanted to keep my promise to my musician friends by still attending and I had pre-ordered a ticket. As I entered the raucus room they were playing in, it was filled with people partying, primarily lesbian couples, seated in groups. Beer bottles and shot glasses adorned the tables. I walked confidently into the room and found the partner of one of my musician friends and was introduced to a number of women, all of whom were rowdy and quite buzzed. I received them without too much judgment, as I rode out waves of both transference and flashbacks of my past drunken hazes. I was gracious and kind with each woman I met. I sat at a small table by myself, close to the stage. I ordered a soda and a snack to nibble on. I took in the music and the energy and the liveliness of the crowd. It did not matter that I was there on my own; I moved rhythmically to the music, clapping and stomping my feet and singing aloud. I took photos of women sitting behind me and sang Happy Birthday to 2 others sitting on the other side of me. At the end of the gig, I invited myself to have dinner with both my musician friends and their partners. I did not feel like a "5th wheel" at all and enjoyed their company immensely. When I had "enough", I was direct about wanting to leave and get home to my dog. This felt both responsible and honest. These are the tools I've acquired along the way that I can practice in my daily affairs.

On my drive home, I talked with an AA friend and a Kabbalistic classmate. Like having air traffic controllers, keeping me company on my flight and checking my pattern and setting me up for landing.

Interestingly enough, just last night I had a spectacular and vivid dream that included flight. It was not the dream of my childhood by any stretch ... there was intensity and speed and heights like I had never felt or traversed before. The dream was filled with possibility and aliveness ... some themes appearing now in my life.

My Future Self makes an appearance once again, as I am learning to fly ...