Powerful women ...

Gabbra woman - Kenya
Originally uploaded by Eric Lafforgue

I had the great honor this evening to be invited to a women's AA gathering at a member's magnificent home. What I didn't know was that this has been a tradition, every Sunday after Thanksgiving, for the past decade. The woman who hosted is actually someone I know fairly well from meetings; opening up her home to the local women in AA is the way that she's been giving back since she got sober, 10 years ago.

There were about 40-45 women in attendance. What struck me the hardest was that I knew nearly every single one, minus 4 or 5. And, even more so, that I didn't know a solitary one just a year ago. And some of these women I saw enter the rooms for the 1st time; to see their blossoming before my eyes is miraculous. And, to have some of the "old-tiimers" tell me that very same thing tonight, leaves me humbled and deeply grateful for the limitless gifts of this program and of my healing work.

And, to think that I considered not going to this. Too much work. Can't be bothered. Don't feel like being at a social event. I'm glad I waited this stinkin-thinkin out a bit and understood that it is part of my resistance and the ways that I isolate and don't come forward to bring myself more into connection with others. I'm glad that I didn't take the "easier, softer way" today. I actually asked G-d this afternoon, after finishing grading my students' papers, "Point me in the direction of what I need to do next?" And the answer came quickly: "Be with the women." I understood. Even more serendipitous is this: about 15 minutes after I sat still talking to G-d, a text came in from one of my AA friends to remind me of the address of this gathering, with the message: "I look forward to seeing you today." There was certainty in those words. My direction was solidified.

As I drove up to this member's home, or should I say "estate" (friggin huge), I was a bit intimidated. This is a neighborhood that I have driven by and often wondered: "Who can afford to live THERE?" This is the very kind of thinking that comes from a place of "What about me?" I learned quickly today: "And, me TOO." This member and her husband are both lawyers. I found out that she does a lot of pro bono work to "give back" to folks who can't afford legal services. She is so down-to-earth, you simply would never know she has this lifestyle; it is not anything she ever flaunts.

Walking in the door, I was blown away by all of the familiar faces. Not to mention, as I got settled in, all the diverse faces. What I love about AA is that alcoholism touches and impacts people across all lines of ethnicity, age, socioeconomic status, you name it. And we represented ALL of those things today. Women were there from meager beginnings, such as being homeless or living in crack houses to women, like our hostess, who came from great wealth. There were women with physical disabilities, battling cancer, overcoming illness to women who've run marathons or are self-made yoginis. Older Christian African-American women sat with tattooed Caucasian lesbians (that would include one inked yours truly). Women with less than 2 months of sobriety mingled among women who have 3 decades plus. And we are from all walks of life, from bus drivers to nurses to stay-at-home moms to social workers to pastry chefs to school teachers to lawyers to waitresses. And, as the first woman to share in our meeting tonight said: "I look around and all I see is powerful women."

Amen, sister.

You could feel the energy of this in every chair one of us occupied and in the spaces in between. To say it was an honor to sit among these women would be an understatement. I had tears in my eyes, filled with gratitude. And I have a place to come and celebrate my sobriety and my fellowship of women and my womanhood every Sunday after Thanksgiving.

As I looked into the faces of each of the women in that room, I thought to myself: "I AM one of these powerful women." And I earned a chair here. And that's because of every one of these women who either walked before me or who walked with me or have not yet arrived.

I shared tonight about all of the ways that I separated myself and created a story about what was wrong "with THEM" and how I turned my back and pointed my fingers at people in AA as being the reason why I didn't go to meetings. And how I was sitting in this huge room with all these familiar, beautiful faces and that I was so thankful to find my way back. And how I have been fully embraced and not shunned. And that I could not imagine my life without this community. To think that I believed for all of these years that I "got this", that my will worked and I didn't need anyone else. I'm glad I got out of my own way. I am grateful I don't have to do this alone.

I am in incredible company. Brings me to my knees ...

Beaten into sobriety

It's wearing me down. (250)
Originally uploaded by megwills

As I walked into the local Fri night meeting, I am touched beyond words that my buddy from my homegroup, the one who's been battling cancer, is the speaker. I have never heard his story. This evening, he looks particularly worn, as this is his chemo week. His skin is discolored and he is clammy and chomping on 3 sticks of gum to deal with the nausea. And he is dedicated to service, so he would never dream of not being here to tell his story. I love this man.

The first set of details that he reveals to us is that he never saw his father or mother drunk. And yet, his father had all of the behaviors of a drunk, minus the drink. My friend was the oldest of 3 kids and received the brunt of his father's physically violent behavior, which took the form of beatings of every imaginable kind. From the time he turned 13, and for the next 30 years, my friend drank himself into oblivion in an attempt to erase the pain of this unfathomable abuse.

He fast-forwards to his last decade of drinking. He is a social worker and he advocates for the rights of those oppressed -- mostly because he wants to see no one hurt, particularly like the way he was. He speaks about his disdane for authority figures of any kind and how he would get extremely beligerant on behalf of the civil rights of others and, in quite drunken states, be beaten by police and arrested.

On the night of his last drink, he has lost all hope that he will ever be rid of the nightmares of what he's suffered at the hands of others; he sits with several bottles of Jack Daniels and a shotgun- the barrel of which he puts in his mouth-so that perhaps this may finally end the torment. And something happens, the moment of sanity and clarity that many AA's report right before they get help, and he takes the gun out of his mouth and he calls another social work colleague who admits him into a rehab. And he's never taken another drink since. This was 3 decades ago.

The remainder of the story is focused on the present time and how he uses the tools of this program to get him through his battle with cancer. And how he lives sometimes 1 minute at a time. He speaks about what it takes to go through the amount of treatment and sickness that he does on a daily basis and yet not take a drink. And the difference today is that he doesn't want to erase the pain or erase his life.

My friend told us that cancer has been his greatest teacher and his greatest nemesis all at the same time. And that he wouldn't wish for a single thing to change. That is the epitome of surrender. Of acceptance. Of living life on life's terms. He said: "Knowing that you could die at any time brings you to a place of really living."

His story and what he faces daily puts any challenge I could possibly face in a different light. I know, as I watch him, that there is nothing that is unmanageable. That there is nothing that can't be met or ridden out or walked through -- with the help of G-d, other AA's, friends, the community at large.

My friend inspires me everytime we meet. He teaches me more than he ever could know. He is helping me to walk in this place of courageousness. I will keep following in his shadow ... there are many steps I've not yet taken.

Kid tears ...

Crying girl
Originally uploaded by ilya.b
Snot overflowing. Salt water splattering from every part of the eyes and pummeling the face with gale force intensity. Chest caves in. Heart feels like it may bust open the rib cage from the sheer pressure of its ache. This is the impact of my little one's sadness on my adult body. It is years of caged up, stuffed down, pushed away, no place here for tears. These days, they can sneak up on me quite unexpectedly or they can slowly build and I feel them in the background, like hearing the creaking of logs about to split open right before the man-made dam bursts.

Tonight's appearance of kid tears took me by surprise. I had a lovely, heartfelt day on my last day of classes with my research students. A day of kind words and feedback and genuine hugs. My stomach has returned to near normal and it was the first day in a few I felt pretty good. A lovely women's meeting this evening and good company. The drive home began with Christmas music and gazing at the moon. A brief stop at the ShopRite to pick up "real food" and continued movement home, picking up where I left off with the holiday tunes and moon-watching.

And then the wave came crashing. Hard. Forceful. A wailing wall of water. My adult self took control of the wheel, attempting to remain on the road through drippy lenses. And I remembered what my healer told me about the importance of this space, this time alone and my attending to what arises for my little one. She was making herself known and heard and felt in the biggest of ways -- "biggest" being the operative word, as she was required to be invisible and to not utter a peep, especially when it came to crying. And I acknowledged her and I named some of her feelings: "Sadness"; "Scared"; "Heartache". I reminded her that she could cry as hard as she wanted because she had the freedom to do that here. And she wanted me to know it was about the moon. And I remember writing about the moon being one of the first important "anchors" for me as a little girl, something I could always count on when I felt most alone.

The moon, just a day past its phase of being full, shimmered so brightly tonight, filling up the sky with its glow. I am aware that my adult self also experiences melancholy with the significance of the moon and its meaning, especially as it relates to the connection with the love of my life. All of this was here under the light of the moon. It took my little one's bravery to allow the emotions to surface and to have a place to live; my adult self, the one who sometimes still believes she needs to be "strong", would easily push those feelings down and away, often unconsciously. In the midst of my little girl's fury of tears, my adult self asked G-d, once again, for help. To hold me so I could hold her so she could know there's a safe place for her kid tears -- this is an absolute divine gift of healing.

And, after the tears dried up and we both got into our warm home, the Christmas tree lights were turned on and we ate Funny Bones.
I never imagined I had the capacity for this and yet I always knew that somehow I would have the opportunity to be a loving "mother". Who knew that I would be doing this for the little girl who resides in me who always longed for one.

Moment by moment

dawn passion
Originally uploaded by algo
Tonight's speaker at my homegroup meeting is someone who is a walking inspiration, a miracle in and of himself. When I first returned to the rooms nearly a year ago, I met this man when he was first diagnosed with brain cancer. He was not expected to live past May. And one day at a time or, as he shared so poignantly this evening, "moment by moment", is how he lives his life, continuing to defy the odds.

He began his story tonight reading from a piece of paper, as one of the aspects of his cancer and his extensive treatments is difficulties in speech. He had written what he said aloud today to G-d, asking: "Of what use shall I be as I speak to these people tonight? Help me, please." He then proceeded to tell us that in his particular condition, he has no choice but to turn everything over to G-d. It took him an hour to make a sandwich today and he thanked G-d for giving him patience to be able to make it. He spoke of a recent hospitalization in which he experienced paralysis on his right side and kept buzzing the nurses to help him to use the bathroom, as the urinal had fallen and was across the room on the floor. His calls were not answered. His urgency to pee increased. So, he asked for G-d's help -- "Should I piss the bed OR try to make it to the urinal?" He reminded all of us that there is nothing too small or too big that you can't ask G-d for help; you simply have to have the willingness. He waited for his answer and he got on his belly and crawled across the bed, letting himself down to the floor, across the room and peed into the urinal. He told us that G-d's message for him was simply to "have dignity". The tears just flowed down my face as I watched this man speak. Dignity is exactly how he lives. And with incredible humility, as he is often mistaken as someone who is drunk because of his extremely slurred speech and off-balance gait. This man expresses gratitude to G-d for simply being able to move certain body parts on a given day.

His message puts everything, absolutely everything, in perspective. He shared that each night, when he shuts his eyes to go to sleep, he has to turn his will over to G-d to take care of him during the night and that, if it is in His will, he will be given the opportunity to open his eyes in the morning and to be of use to his fellows. Self-pity isn't even an option for this man.

When I think of experiencing bouts of diarrhea for the past 48 hours and being able to know they are beyond my control, still, they are a miniscule drop-in-life's-bucket compared to what this man has the willingness to be with on a daily basis.

He told us that his very first sponsor taught him to not take a drink, moment by moment because a day at a time was far too long. And that's the tool he uses to come face-to-face with his brain cancer and the various ways his body does not cooperate.

And in the midst of all of this, he was let go from a job that he loved. This broke his heart more than getting brain cancer. He tutored high school students in computer technology. This was his passion. He was at this particular institution for all of his sobriety - 16 years. And still, he reminded us, it was not enough for him to take a drink. And he is coming to acceptance that this was no longer meant to be.

More tears come and I look around and I see others wiping their eyes too. My whole body is shaking from the emotion that is stirred in witnessing his utter grace. I want what HE has. I want to face life's curveballs and sideswipes with this kind of serenity. Watching him tonight makes me want to get closer to G-d.

An unexpected confirmation ...

desde el puente
Originally uploaded by IrreBerenT pintando la vida
Just 2 hours after posting my ponderings of the question re: what did G-d have in mind when creating me, I receive a heartfelt email from one of my students. It has nothing to do with anything learned in the research course I am teaching, mind you. It has everything to do with the intention I believe G-d had in creating me to be a messenger of learning. In this case, when this student began to fall behind on work, I gently probed to find out what was happening for him. He then revealed that his grandfather - his best friend -was fighting his impending death and that it freaked him out. I was able to share with him about my own fears and struggles of having loved ones dying, even my own experience as a grad student in my last semester at this very University, grappling with my father-in-law's battle with pancreatic cancer. A gentle conversation about this on a campus bench seemed to have brought him forward in communicating a number of times about the status of his grandfather either before or after class. He got his assignments in, even though late, because there was now an "understanding" and open communication about what he needed.

His letter to me, which follows, brings me to tears and to my knees; it is clear to me that this precious young man is more awake to his grandfather's dying and has even come to a place of acceptance. There is no greater learning process to witness than this, having walked these tender steps just a few weeks ago with my client's passing.  And,  this is equally significant:  I was able to "carry the message"  to this young man because it was given to me by those who walked with me and before me and shared their wisdom and guidance about how to be present and human in the face of someone dying.


Hey K

I am sorry to hear that you are ill:( I just wanted to write to you to let you know how things are going with my grandfather, because I could tell you were genuinely concerned and that means alot. He was moved from the hospital last Tuesday to return to the nursing home and begin hospice. We were told he wouldn't make it past the weekend and to everyones surprise he is still fighting. Monday he was shocked three times by his defibrillator, the third one occurring at dinner and being the most severe. Although on morphine the man bit his hand and went right through the skin. We made the decision as a family to turn the defibrillator off. All this means is when his heart fails the pace maker has three opportunities to pick the beat back up, after that he will no longer be shocked. We are waiting for the big guy to come and take him.

Thanks for your understanding and concern during the most difficult of times. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.


Sincerely,
A

EDIT:   20 min after posting this,  I receive a call from a county casemanager.  She has a therapy referral for me and I come highly recommended by an agency I do training for.   The client,  it turns out,  is someone struggling with alcoholism.   This is His will,  not mine.   Incredible.

A question to ponder ...

intimidating
Originally uploaded by Dyrk.Wyst
"Do I really believe that G-d had something particular in mind in creating me?"

This was a question posed on an old friend from high school's Facebook page. He and I have had some incredible exchanges in correspondence after being out of touch for 29 years now. He is a devout Catholic, Republican, and Yankees fan ! And we are discovering that we have so much in common, spiritually, and a vast amount to learn from one another.

So... as I nurse myself back to good gastrointestinal health, I have pondering time. What a gift.

At a very young age, I am aware now in my adult self, I was in contact with who I am now. My healer has explored a great deal about this concept of the Future Self. The idea that the "Who is" that I am today, was guiding the "Who was" that I occupied in earlier years. My young self understood before even becoming a teenager that she was destined for great things, accomplishments in life. And to remain in the home she was raised in, to live life according to what was expected of all girls passed on from generation to generation (i.e. you find a good man and marry and have children), would be a death sentence. To have this in my awareness as a child, even if only in the background, was to know that G-d had other plans for me. Today, I know this to be absolutely true. And every action that I took, even when I was in utter turmoil and chaos in the throws of my alcoholism, each step was what led me to where I have landed for the moment. And I am not done walking, either.

So, back to the "meat" of the question: what did G-d have in mind in creating ME? I believe today that G-d has always wanted me to be a messenger of learning. There is no place on earth where I am more at home, physically and in my interior, than in a classroom with students. And it is not always about me being in the role of teacher; I can still be a messenger of learning and be a student, as in my Kabbalistic program. And, if I truly believe this and hold this to be the truth of my creation, then I also understand that in order to be a messenger of learning, I had to have a lived experience of learning. The first 3 decades of my life were spent as a student in the school of hard knocks. Painful lessons. And necessary lessons, every single one. Just right for me. I am aware I can be a dense student; it sometimes takes a lightning bolt to thrash me to the ground before I come to and say "A ha ! Now I get it !" This is a pretty accurate statement for many of my early lessons. Today, this is not frequently the case. I am more aware of subtleties and nuances and small shifts that bring me to a place of being awake to insights and learning.

And I don't want to limit my thinking that this is the only reason for G-d creating me. I believe that I am here to heal and to grow and to love. Be it karmatically, from past life experiences, or simply as a person who had wounds just like everyone else and wants to really mend them in a permanent way, not in a band-aid way. To be a living example of healing among my fellows here on earth. To be a servant of G-d. I actually believe that to some extent we were all created with this in mind. And when we each arrived here on earth, raised in our particular "soil" of our parents, their parents, so on, our paths for our specific missions took lots of twists and turns and bumps. And it is in the traveling and not in the arrival to a destination where the heart of our work is.

As my Kabbalistic teacher, J, has said (and I'm paraphrasing): It is being with the questions. That's what living is. It's not about finding the answers or solutions.

I am very grateful to my old friend who offered the opportunity today to be in life with the questions.

Humility re-visited

Originally uploaded by LJ.

Nothing says "humbling" much better than surrendering to the loss of control of one's bowels and taking in sights and smells that are beyond human comprehension AND then reporting these things face-to-face with your doctor without wanting to vanish in thin air because of what you just revealed.

I have a gastrointestinal virus. No quick fix, just ride it out. BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast). A divine perhaps twisted intervention from G-d that allows me deeper pause. As my sponsor quoted today: "Be still and know that I am."

Interestingly enough, I re-read a passage first thing this morning in a small booklet given to me by an old-timer who I adore in my AA homegroup. The booklet is entitled "Last major talk of Dr. Bob, 1948, Detroit" On the inside cover, there is this piece on "Humility" which was inscribed on a desk plaque of Dr. Bob's. It goes like this:

"Perpetual quietness of heart. It is to have no trouble. It is never to be fretted or vexed, irritable or sore. To wonder at nothing that is done to me, to feel nothing done against me. It is to be at rest when nobody praises me, and when I am blamed or despised, it is to have a blessed home in myself, where I can go and shut the door, and pray to my G-d in secret, and be at peace, as in a deep sea of calmness when all around and about is seeming trouble."

These words move further into my being and touch me in more profound ways everytime I read this. It has softened me tremendously in my acceptance of having this virus and being home-bound for today, without any feeling that this is "against me" but instead an opportunity for rest, to experience that peace and deep sea of calmness that is mentioned above.

Before going to the doctor's office this morning, I walked my dog on my usual route. As I stopped to let her sniff around, I looked up at the cars stopped at the red light before me and just as I did, my eyes met an ex-girlfriend from the neighborhood. There has always been unpleasant, unspoken gestures on her end toward me and I have wanted to avoid her. I had shared previously with my sponsor that I felt I owed her an amends for not being fully upfront with her toward the end of our relationship and yet, I did not feel she was "safe". My sponsor told me that people show up just when the time is right, if it's meant to be. So, as we look at one another, I smile kindly and mouth "Hi" and she returns with the same. And then the light turns green and she is on her way. And in the space of those silent 10 seconds or so, I experienced deep humility -- a peace and calm that there was simply "no trouble" . I am aware in that exchange that an amends was made. The "thing" that hung thick in the air between us was lifted in that moment. And there is no need for anything more. And as I continued down the street, I had such gratitude for the grace that quietly slipped in that space to make what happened possible.

Humility to me is having a content heart regardless of what is happening on the exterior. It is the place I can live that reminds me no matter what, I will be fine just the way things are. It is the awareness that I am always walking arm-in-arm with G-d.