Powerlessness over Others

grains of water
Originally uploaded by brookeshaden
In this morning's AA meeting, the speaker shared how, as a recovering alcoholic, she still struggles significantly with Step 1 as it pertains to her relationships. The topic of discussion that ensued was our powerlessness over others. I listened and took in the sharing. I did not realize how my day would unfold and how this very subject would play out in 2 of my friendships.

In both situations, my character defects and my historical wounds would be reflected back to me, as if looking at myself in an old mirror with many cracks.

In the case of one friend, in her current state of brokenness she attempted with great manipulation to pull me toward her, in what felt like an effort to save herself. The stronger the force and the more she "upped the anty" (i.e. expressing threats of suicide), the more I planted my feet, as if roots were shooting out of my soles, into the ground beneath me. I said little, yet listened carefully. This is what my healer has modeled for me. To move away from myself in an interaction such as this would be an attempt to both exert my power and control over my friend in an effort to save my own self from not being able to bear the presence of her suffering. This is quite significant for me, given my care-taker/rescuer history. Even more compelling, however, is this: she mirrored for me the face of self-pity. How, when we are in this place, we want company in our misery. We take hostages. We want desperately to be saved from ourselves because the loneliness and isolation that we've created in the process feels intolerable. I have walked in her footsteps. Perhaps not to the extent or with the same kind of intensity as what she presents, but nonetheless, pity is pity no matter how much you try to dress it up.

To admit powerlessness over another is not about defeat. It is about acknowledging that I do not have the ability to control another's actions, behaviors, attitudes, thoughts or anything else. It is a letting go with love. It involves being personally detached yet still in connection and located within myself. It also is about not fixing or changing or adjusting, but rather letting the other be exactly where they are while I am exactly where I am. This is no easy feat. It takes a lot of energy and focus to not move out from myself toward another who is in pain. As my sponsor so wisely advised today: "you don't have to offer a whole shoulder to cry on, but simply an ear to listen". This feels like good self-care, without being selfish.

My other friend is dealing with a spouse who has had several relapses with alcohol and drugs. He is in the throws of chaos in his family and desperately trying to keep the entire unit in one piece, by what feels like a very loose thread. He too mirrored a very familiar and painful aspect of my past to me, having partnered with someone who abused substances. In talking with him, I can feel the ways in which there was this frenzy inside, attempting to make sense out of insanity. Like a dog chasing its tail in circles. I could also feel the ways in which I believed I could outwit and overpower the disease of addiction in my partner by projecting my anger onto her and having unrealistic expectations coupled with empty threats. My friend is engaging in some of these things too, yet thankfully to his credit, he is being supported by an Al-Anon sponsor. He, unlike me, is coming to the painful understanding that he is indeed powerless over this disease in his wife. He isn't quite ready to raise the white flag just yet, but he is willing to begin looking at the face of the reality of his life. Witnessing my friend's experience first-hand is heartening and humbling and healing. It has, to some extent, fostered some of the softening I have experienced about my former circumstances with my ex and to really own my part.

I realize that, in the past, what was so seductive about being a care-taking rescuer was the illusion of control over another. Arrogance and superiority were at the heart of this, camoflauged by what appeared as being a kind and caring person. My ego was fed by
"needing to be needed". In the meantime, my soul was starving for attenton. I had completely abandoned that part of me to save another and save myself in the process.

A prayer inspired by this post tonight:
God, I am powerless over others and over my disease and all its isms. Please help me to remember this each time I encounter another in pain. To abandon myself in order to rescue another is to abandon you, God. When I align with you and turn things over to your care, I am doing the kindest act I can for those I love and for myself. Amen.

The Harvest of Our Labor

Working in a sea of green
Originally uploaded by B℮n
"Talk doesn't cook rice."
~ Chinese Proverb

In my alcoholism, I had unrealistic, far-fetched pipe dreams. I'd elaborate on my grand schemes while the only movement was the bottle to my lips, while they flapped empty words into the ethers. When I stopped drinking, my energy shifted and I became a workaholic. Lot of extra hours, complaining, martyring, and busying without producing a whole lot. It was just another "ism", minus the alcohol. "Look at all the time I'm putting in. I even come in on Saturdays ! I have no social life because of this job." As was shared with me yesterday, borrowed from an AA long-timer : ISM stands for: I, Self, Me.

Whether it was futile talk or selfishness in the guise of working hard, I was not truly "in service" to God or my fellows. I was not working any kind of program which taught me how to put principles into action. The last line of the AA "Promises" in the Big Book is: "They will always materialize if we work for them."

The harvest of our labor is not about how many hours we put on a timesheet or how many committees we're on or how fat our paycheck is or how many credentials we can tack behind our name. I am coming to understand that great things come to fruition that I never imagined possible if I do the simple steps of my recovery program and make the time to do the practices in my Kabbalistic healing school. I also am aware of this: abundance, in all forms, is the result of being true to myself, in integrity, using the God-given tools available to me. As a beloved fellow traveler of the rooms says: "Align oneself with source." This is what we ask in our 7th Step prayer, that we are granted strength to do God's bidding. We take daily inventory so that we are aware of our defects and isms that still creep up and we make prompt amends. And we do all of this, so that we are useful to others and that we can be in the service of God.

Teaching, for me, is not only a God-given gift, but it is also something that I have worked for -- from a place in me that genuinely wants to be in service to others, to be a vehicle for learning, to carry a message. The harvest of this labor cannot be measured in any material way. The value and the rewards that have been bestowed upon me for being in service as a teacher are vast and priceless. The smile on a student's face after taking the time to listen to them, help break down a complex concept, and see the lightbulb go off above their head is worth more to me than any monetary compensation. To get my unhealed ego out of the way and be human and honest in my interactions in the classroom, has brought me into intimate relationship with my students and has enabled me to model social work skills right on the spot. This is one of the reasons I get down on my knees in the morning and thank God -- because I get to do this and to be in service and aligned with my Creator.

Yesterday, I received an unexpected surprise,  a "dividend" so to speak, connected to this passion for teaching. I have been selected as an honoree for the National Social Work Society at the university where I am adjunct faculty.   This is a reward and a promise of working a recovery and healing program. This is the bountiful harvest of my labor, an accomplishment for which I am gratefully indebted to my lifetime employer, God.

Fearlessly Naked

S A C C A D E S: Ghosts
Originally uploaded by valerie chiang
4th Step fever is in the air.

My sponsor has shared with me recently about the resistance she's encountered by her other sponsees in doing their 4th Step.

I just had a great discussion with my beloved best friend / spiritual partner/ love of my life that are absolutely connected to Step 4.

My former partner contacted me today, having done her 4th & 5th Steps, so that we may get together and she can do 9th Step amends.


The chair of tonight's meeting spoke about how the 4th Step gets such a bad reputation. It is the Step that is avoided, dreaded, put off. In the 12&12, it is noted that the two things that are the greatest barriers to completing Step 4 are fear and pride. Fear seems to be centered around how one will be judged or regarded, having acknowledged their part, their defects. Pride, on the other hand, is about grandiosity and people "blinding themselves to their liabilities". Both fear and pride are driven by selfish, self-centered motives. In the case of fear: I'm going to hide or isolate and not own my part in things, nor show up to be in relationship to those I've harmed. In the case of pride: I'm not going to admit to or acknowledge these things because they were done to me and not my fault. I was justified in my actions. Others are to blame.

For me, Step 4 requires being fearlessly naked. Yet, without shame or guilt or embarassment. The truth and nothing but the truth. And yes, it does set you free. More spaciousness than I could have ever imagined possible.

Several times in Step 4, there is a reference made to "soul sickness". This feels connected to the unhealed ego. How we lose our God-connection when the small, ego-driven self is the one taking control or at least gives the illusion of control. The Step goes on to say that fear is a soul sickness resulting from our failings, of our mistakes and hurts created during our addiction. And this fear will, in turn, generate more character defects. Not addressing these failings and mistakes in Step 4 as well as character defects seems to fit the addage: "We're only as sick as our secrets." Step 4 helps us illuminate these secrets and eventually, helps us to understand, as this Step indicates, both our "liabilities AND our assets." And, sometimes character defects have a positive version, a liability that is transformed into an asset. For example: in order to protect myself from others' poor boundaries, I would create a very rigid wall around myself, that basically was off-putting. This liability has now morphed into me having solid footing for myself in relationship to another with poor boundaries, being able to locate myself and not have to react to or change them in any way. But first, as part of the 4th Step, I had to acknowledge my part, my liability in order to see the possibility of what could become an asset.

The segment that struck me the most tonight is something that I have been able to acknowledge, own, and heal through my relationship with the woman I love. I had forgotten this aspect of Step 4 until it was read aloud. "Our egomania digs two disastrous pitfalls. Either we insist upon dominating the people we know, or we depend on them far too much ... In this way, our insecurity grows and festers."

This passage captures what was at the heart of my part in our relationship which impacted her and us negatively. Domination, for me, was about taking her and the relationship hostage. And this was fueled by my fear of the unknown and my fear of abandonment. This fear, in turn, created the dependence part. Needing her to be and show up and act in an expected way. This put conditions on the relationship and pressure on her, kicking up and activating her own historical issues and dilemmas. And the more I was engaged in either one of these things, domination or dependence, my insecurities did indeed grow and fester. Step 4 required me to be willing to do a rigorous, honest and fearless inventory. To examine my behavior, my actions and the impact of them. To be able to own this fully, without remorse or guilt or shame, brings me into deeper connection and relationship. My healer's famous quote that I've held onto for several years comes to mind: "True intimacy is freedom." Amen and Hallelujah!

Step 4 is like a deep cleansing of the soul. To thoroughly look at my "blemishes" cannot be accomplished by moving swiftly past a mirror and catching a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. It requires me to have a magnifying lens, as if finding a splinter in my finger -- it is done mindfully, with impeccable care and integrity.

This is who I was and who I am now. These are my ugly parts and my beautiful parts. This is what I own and apologize genuinely for. I clean up my side of the street, not yours AND I don't look for or expect a response from you to make things okay or to save me in anyway. It just is. This is the truth of things. There is no defending or denying or excusing. This is the nuts and bolts of Step 4. This is being fearlessly naked.

Digging Up Worms

Flat Out Like A Lizard Drinking
Originally uploaded by ianmichaelthomas
One definition of WORM most fitting for this entry is as follows:
"an insidiously tormenting or devouring force."
~ American Heritage Dictionary

At the Easter gathering with my family yesterday, there was an unearthing of sorts about some secrets still maintained by my mother. These occurrences of withholding and only revealing bit by bit are the kind of worms that I have been wanting to dig up for a greater portion of my adult life. One such worm that has been slippery and elusive to date is the information about mine and my sister's adoptions.

Right before I was to leave for home yesterday, my sister pulled me to the side, as she had something very important to share with me. She proceeded to tell me that, out of the seemingly clear blue sky, my mother gave her the full packet of her adoption papers, which included her full name and her parents' names. My sister has already gone to the local court house to get a release of additional information connected to this adoption, as she is very interested in finding out as much as she can given that she has 2 generations of children who may benefit from the genetic/medical history.

While I was delighted beyond words for my sister, I was simultaneously furious and hurt. This subject, this unsightly worm, has been the subject of contention between my mother and I for at least 20 plus years. She has never wanted to discuss it, nor offer up any information, making vague statements like: "You'll have all you need to know when I die."

I must also note this:  a different kind of crawling creature,  a more pleasant one but a worm nonetheless,  was removed from its muddy living quarters.   My mother told each of us at the dinner table yesterday about how she chose our names.   I have spent the majority of my life,  since my teens,  with a story that she told me and other relatives about how I was named after a character on Peyton Place.   I would find out yesterday that this was a ruse.   That she did not think it would be okay until now to tell me the truth.   My mother goes on to share about how a few months before she brought me home,  she read a story in the newspaper of a tragic plane crash.   A little girl was one of the passengers.   She could not stop thinking about that little girl and her name came up repeatedly.   She wanted to give "life"  back to her namesake.   I have that little girl's name.   I was so touched by this and yet stunned and incredulous about the fact that my mother was not able to share this with me until now.     And I was deeply grateful I got to hear this before she died, as it may have just gone with her to the grave.

Leaving there yesterday with this literal "can of worms" opened, I felt out of sorts,  knocked off my center,  especially about receiving the information from my sister, and, even more so, how to proceed about obtaining my own adoption information now. I called my sponsor on my drive and she offered this sage advice: " Pray on this and wait 3 days. Ask God to let you know, from that place in your insides, to guide you to the next right action." She also validated for me that it is time and it is my right to have this information. And that I should approach my mother gently and with kindness, given the sensitivity she has about my sister and I pursuing connection with our biological parents and her own fears about us abandoning her. That much I am aware has been at the core of her withholding; it is the one thing that allowed me to have more compassionate discretion yesterday and to hug my mother lovingly when I said goodbye, rather than confront her impulsively and angrily. I am grateful for that God-voice/Tiferet that I am building muscles around in my interior.

When I awoke today, I felt quiet, cautious,  wanting to stay close to myself.  I am not angry at my mother. I do not feel urgency. I trust in my ability to handle this as an adult and not as a victimized child. It is time to put the shovel down. I have spent too much of my life efforting, desperately digging up worms. Coming face-to-face, daughter to mother, with the one who buried them feels like the next right action. I will keep praying and sitting and listening.

Back on the saddle again ...

The old bicycle and the field of wheat
Originally uploaded by Bern@t

When I was a young girl, the greatest sense of freedom and the closest I ever came to feeling like I was flying was when I was on my bike. I rode everywhere. Peddling as fast as I could go, I had the illusion of making the great escape -- from the prison that was the confines of my home. My most favorite time to be on my bike was at dusk on a summer night; this is when it would begin to get cool and the breeze as I coasted downhill felt so amazing. But, I had to beat the sun completely setting, because in the area I lived the bats came out right around that time. I was terrified of the notion that a bat could swoop down while I was riding and get tangled in my hair. It was a completely unfounded, irrational fear that I had for most of my biking career as a young person.

I have done very little biking in my adult life. When I was newly sober, I didn't have a car. I can remember purchasing a Schwinn 10 speed from a guy I worked with for dirt cheap and I would ride to do most everything, including intense hill workouts in the neighborhood just outside of mine. This was the early 90's and I had a walkman that played cassette tapes and I would make "Biking Mixes" to pump me up in order to keep up my stamina for the hilly terrain I would be out on. I was in amazing shape back then !

A friend in my Kabbalistic program recently gave me a mountain bike that was his oldest son's. This was coming from a family of guys, including my friend, who are avid cyclists -- the serious kind. I took it out today for my first trek. It is unseasonably warm for this time of year and a perfect day for a ride. As I climbed some of the old familiar hills of my late 20's, I felt the burn in my thighs like I never have before. Coupled with major huffing and puffing. Two decades makes a HUGE difference ! WOW. When I would tire of the hills, I'd find a side street to even out and rest up until the next hill. I loved when I could return and coast at top speed down the hills I had just ascended. Funny thing is this: that same exhilaration I experienced as a young girl was still attainable in my 47 plus year old self. Only this go-round, I did not have a need to escape, but rather a longing to be fully engaged in the aliveness of navigating the outdoors and moving my body.

I feel very fortunate that I have the ability to ride a bike and, more so, the desire to do it. It is incredibly free-ing and it puts me directly in the current of life. It allows me to explore neighborhoods and see sights that may be just a little too far to walk to and there is a camaraderie among other bikers -- friendly waves and nods -- as if we're cheering one another on to keep pedaling and moving. Being on the seat of a bike, wind blowing across my face, really makes me feel alive in my body and with nature in a way that walking does not quite fulfill.

Arriving back to my apartment after nearly 2 hours on the bike, I was literal Jello, from the waist down. Yet, it was a really good kind of exhaustion. Completely gratifying. Thank God for ibuprofen and a hot shower -- 2 things I never thought about as a girl who could spend an entire day cruising on her flower power banana seat 5 speed!

It's great to be back on the saddle again ...

One of God's bruised apples ...

Rotten Apple
Originally uploaded by Jonas Thomén

For the first time in 19 plus years, I became downright resentful about being an alcoholic. For no other reason than I was literally: hungry, angry, lonely and tired. Funny how I would just write about that acronym H.A.L.T. a few days ago and all 4 would bombard me in one fell swoop in about a 45 minute time period, as I arrived home from a full day of appointments.

As I drove home, I realized how hungry I was. I didn't eat properly today. I was resentful about my tight budget and the fact that I couldn't eat out and that I would be coming home to heat up leftovers that I didn't really want. Pulling into my driveway, I get out of the car and I see my neighbors and some friends, sitting out on their balcony, beer bottles in hand. And I am seething mad. The word "Fuck" flew out of my mouth in rapid-fire succession as I entered the door. I hated that they could sit out on such a gorgeous night and drink beer without seemingly any care or worry. And they looked civilized and in control and that made me even angrier. I take my dog out for a walk and I am still stewing. We get back, I heat up the leftovers and I feel the tears begin to fall. I sit down at my kitchen table and eat only because I need to and the loneliness creeps in. And I hate that it's here. I feel ashamed after working so hard on dealing with issues around aloneness and self-pity and now it feels like a relapse of some sort. I finish my food, do the dishes and realize how incredibly tired I am. The last 2 days have been non-stop, with a few nights of interrupted sleep. I almost consider not going to a meeting and absolutely know that I MUST get to a meeting.

On the way, I phone my sponsor because I need to talk about my HALT-hissyfit. She is not there and I leave a message and begin to feel calmer simply because I acknowledged what was happening and worked my program by making the call.

The meeting is good and it's great to see this group of folks that I've come to enjoy and we read the 9th Step and have cake for one of our member's anniversaries.

I drive home feeling somewhat settled, hear a message from my sponsor and she won't be available tonight as she has company but will be tomorrow and it's just good to hear her voice. The closer I get to home, I am aware that on the other side of "somewhat settled" is a bubbling and brewing "completely unsettled".

I get in my apartment in plenty of time to do the 10p group prayers for my teacher, Jason and sit down on my meditation pillow, candles all lit, shawl draped over my shoulders. I fold my hands in prayer and utter the word: "God" and that is the only thing that comes out before the damn breaks and a new cascade of "tears beneath the tears" come pouring out. And I am brought straight to the passage I read this morning from Jason's book, which has stayed with me all day -- particularly the closing paragraph:
"The bruised apple is still good for making pies. In other words, trust in the Creator to see the good that even you yourself cannot see. Your sorrows do not need to disappear for you to be good in God's eyes. Therefore you need never hide any part of yourself again."

As I sat in God's presence tonight, I stopped myself once amid all the first set of tears to acknowledge my selfishness of feeling sorry for myself when I was to be praying for Jason and his recovery and healing. So I did that, with all the strength I could muster, and then more tears came. And those lines from the passage were so with me and I kept saying over and over again: "Thank you for loving me God and seeing my goodness amid my bruises and dents. I don't think I'd make a very tasty pie right now, but you don't care about that. And then I was reminded of the 7th Step prayer and how I can ask that God have ALL of me, the good and the bad. And that was comforting. And more tears came and no words, then a few words and more tears. And finally, I was just able to ask God to help carry my hungry, angry, lonely, tired for me. And that even with all of this discomfort, I really did know God loves me and that made me cry even more.

Yesterday my healer did a very powerfully deep healing that dropped us into the rootedness of the Tree of Life, Malchut. It has a lot to do with being in the Truth of oneself. I think that what occurred for me this evening had a lot to do with the territory of that healing. It is no longer acceptable for me, out of integrity, to try to stuff or push away or hide the kinds of feelings that arose. In the past, I would've wanted to ignore or totally deny that they existed, mostly out of pride or out of shame. I may have even tried to quickly manage them using the Program tools and this, to me, at least in tonight's case, felt like it would be a spiritual by-pass. "To thine own self be true." My truth tonight needed to be felt and seen and acknowledged -- by me and in the presence of God. I can already feel the healing in this.

I am merely one of God's bruised apples. And he loves me anyway.

The possibility of Faith ...

Spirit of the Earth
Originally uploaded by Ben Heine
I have been reading Sharon Salzberg's book: "Faith", after having attended one of her workshops a few weekends ago. Her sharing of her dark childhood and her journey to follow what she always knew was possible for herself touched my heart and spoke to me, personally.

The more I read, the more that I understand about the role of faith in my own life. She also provides further validation of what my healer teaches about the Future Self. In fact, Sharon's version of Faith is synonymous with the Future Self. Here is one such passage:

"Like a subliminal message being played under predominant music, a sense of possibility, no matter how faint, drives a wedge between the suffering we may wake up with each day and the hopelessness that can try to move in with us on a permanent basis. It inspires us to envision a better life for ourselves. It is this glimmer of possibility that is the beginning of faith."

The calling of the Future Self is that subliminal message, that faint whisper, the voice that keeps calling to us from our deepest insides. I have written about this and continue to be more aware of how this voice, the one that I have heard since being a little girl, has always traveled with me, never left me. I, on the other hand, ignored and abandoned this voice. I understand too how, at different times in my life, I denied both God's presence and I lost my way, giving up on what could be possible with Faith.

Sharon shares how Faith is what enables us to keep moving forward, amid the complete unknown, trusting our own deepest experience. I can see these big events, shatterings in my life where I did move forward, but only after my Future Self-Faith voice was screaming at me in deafening decibels. Today, I am more keenly attuned to hearing the softer tones, the ones that ripple quietly in my interior yet get my attention. And yes, sometimes I don't "get it" until I have the sledge-hammer bop me good, but this is less and less the case, thankfully.

I am back in the ring, round 4 or 5 now, with my former nemesis -- money. I have a new set of gloves--Faith and a different manager--God. With each passing day, I continue to move forward trusting that my financial mountain will get knocked down a millimeter or two, as my Faith and my trust in God's intention for me, strengthen my ability to fight the good fight for my Future Self. Right now, several agencies are extremely late in paying me; a number of bills will not get paid on time. I make the calls and share my truth, no excuses. I experience some receptive, understanding folks on the other end and sometimes not. I set up the online bank payments a few days or a week from now, with the Faith that the money will be there by the time the payment is sent. I will not be crippled by or ignore these financial matters; instead, I do the next right action, listening carefully to what is shared with me in the stillness. I am not awoken in the middle of the night with money nightmares any more; I am lulled to sleep with the knowledge that each step I take to proceed with Faith and my trust in God's plan will enable me to get to the other side of the mountain, eventually.

"Faith is the animation of the heart that says, 'I choose life, I align myself with the potential inherent in life, I give myself over to that potential'. This spark of faith is ignited by the moment we think, 'I'm going to go for it. I'm going to try.' "

In that passage above, she is describing the power of Step 3. The more I am re-acquainted with this Step, the more I understand the emphasis of working it, over and over again in my recovery program.
It is the literal engine of my sobriety.    This passage also implies that Faith is not passive,  it does involve action.    In fact,  she speaks about how the word "Faith"  in 3 languages  (Sanskrit, Hebrew and Latin) is a verb:   "To faithe" . 

And, as George Michael strummed so joyfully nearly 3 decades ago: "You gotta have Faith ... ahhhhh, you gotta have Faith ..."