Book Clubs, Bible Study and Literature Meetings

Over the past year I've heard fellow members of my 12-Step Program compare our "literature meetings" to book clubs and Bible study groups. I thought I'd spend a little time on that topic today.

First off, what is a literature meeting? It's a 12-Step meeting where we focus on reading aloud, and then sharing our individual thoughts about what was read. It isn't a discussion in terms of give-and-take or debate; instead, each person speaks in turn. The kinds of literature we read in my AA meetings include the "Big Book" (Alcoholics Anonymous), the "12 and 12" (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, Living Sober, and the "Grapevine" magazine. (Other kinds of meetings include speaker meetings, step meetings and discussion meetings.)

A book club is similar, and yet it's different. It's also a group of people who read the same books, but they read them at home instead of at the meeting. They know each other, but they may not have any interests in common other than the book they are reading. They meet together to talk about what they read, but some book clubs spend more time drinking and eating and socializing than they do talking about the book. Good book clubs try to make sure that everyone has an opportunity to get her/his two cents in, and that the members listen to each other. But members of some book clubs often get into discussions, debates and even disagreements. I've seen it happen. Not all book clubs are well-managed.

What about Bible study groups? I think that Bible study groups are more similar to 12-Step literature meetings than book clubs. Reading from either the Bible or from 12-Step literature aloud in the group, and then talking about it with other people, enriches each person's study, because not everyone thinks the same way. Hearing someone else's ideas and interpretations causes each person to broaden his/her thinking. Beyond that, group Bible study offers a place to connect with other similar-minded people, making each person part of a connected family. Like 12-Step meetings, a Bible study group offers a safe place for each person to ask questions, and help others find answers as well. When you are involved in a small group of other like-minded people with varying backgrounds, chances are at least one other person in that group will be able to answer your specific questions. And aren't two or three (or more) heads better than one?

Finally, in 12-Step meetings and Bible study groups, members can share their intimate thoughts and needs. At first they may not feel comfortable sharing the details of their lives, and they don't have to unless they choose to. But members of both groups grow to care for one another over time, and contribute to each other's growth, because they are all traveling the same road.

Here's a shout out to "Early Birds," my home group. I love you all.

Programs, Roadmaps and Recipes

All 12-step programs are "programs" in that they fit the definition of a program: "a planned, coordinated group of activities, procedures, etc., often for a specific purpose." The group of activities are always the same and come in four parts: (1) don't do the thing you are recovering from (alcohol, drugs, gambling, etc.); (2) go to meetings; (3) get a sponsor; and (4) work the 12 steps.

I've heard other people at meetings describe the program as a roadmap or recipe for life. In fact, just this morning one of my AA friends shared a short story during the meeting. A brother was staying with him, and this person was having problems in his relationship with someone else. My friend took out the "Big Book" (Alcoholics Anonymous), gave it to his brother, and said "read pages x through y of this book. It might help." The next morning my friend asked his brother if he had read it. His brother said that he read a lot more of the book than just the suggested pages, and said "This is really a roadmap for life -- anyone's life."

After we heard that story, someone else at the meeting suggested that there are a lot of people in the world who don't have alcohol, drug or other similar problems, but who would seriously benefit from the teachings in the Big Book. I've often thought that same thing.

Anyway, how is a 12-step program like a roadmap? It shows you where you are, at the beginning of your journey. It shows you where you want to go. It shows you the most direct route to take in order to arrive at your destination (I think of that as the 12-step route). You can look at the roadmap to determine whether it's going to be a short trip or a long one. You probably need to make stops along the way -- those are the steps. And there might be alternate routes that will get you there, but they will probably take longer.

How is a 12-step program like a recipe? I like this one the best. You want a loaf of bread. You start out with nothing but a set of instructions. The instructions tell you what ingredients you have to purchase. Then the recipe tells you what to do with the ingredients, how to combine them or treat them, in a particular order of activities. These are the steps. If you decide to skip a step -- let's say you add the yeast but don't give the dough time to rise -- you end up with a brick instead of a loaf of bread. If you decide to add the sugar after the dough has risen, the yeast will have nothing to feed on and again, you'll have a brick. But if you follow the directions in the correct order, you end up with a loaf of bread. Just the same, if you follow the 12 steps in the correct order, you achieve recovery, sanity and serenity.

I wish you a successful journey as you follow the 12-step roadmap to your destination. If you do, you'll get to eat a loaf of bread, instead of figuring out how to dispose of a brick.

Managing the Unmamageable

Step 1 of any 12-Step Program has us admitting that our lives have become unmanageable. If we're an alcoholic or an addict, the craving for our substance of choice governs our thoughts and our actions. Above all other things, that's what we want. Once that need is satisfied, we think about other people (including the ones you love, I'm ashamed to admit) and do other things (if you're capable of doing anything at all.)

 

Then we enter the Program and work the steps. We are in recovery! THAT now governs our thoughts and actions. We begin to pick up the threads of our lives. We try to reestablish relationships, we once again engage in beloved hobbies, and we reengage in whatever work we do (paid or volunteer) and become productive again. But recovery remains in the forefront of our minds. Before the Program, our craving used to govern our thoughts and actions; now it's recovery.

 

At some point in recovery, we realize that our lives has certainly improved, but we haven't achieved "manageable" yet. That's exactly where I am right now. Surrendering to my Higher Power has gotten me up from my bottom. But now it's time for me to put more of a personal effort into it. As I once read somewhere, "God can move mountains, but you had better bring a shovel."

 

There are many things that I can possibly do and, being retired, I get to do most of them by choice. But there are so many things, and there is only so much time.

 



 

There are things that I love to do because I enjoy them and they make me feel good: traveling, watching tv and knitting, gardening, yoga, riding my bicycle, working in the church office, visiting my friend Mary, going to the movies, cooking, getting a massage, going to church.  There are lunches, dinners and other social events that help me to keep up with and enjoy the company of friends. There are things that are good FOR me, like going to Program meetings and serving at church as a lector or an usher. There are things I want to do for others: working in the hospital as a volunteer chaplain, visiting shut-ins, serving as chair of the school board, serving as a member of Diocesan Council. Of course, there are also the things that must get done: grocery shopping, errands, paying bills, doing the laundry.

 

And then there is the unexpected: a friend in need, an illness, something that needs to be repaired or replaced, a birth, a wedding, a death. Even when the rest of your life is manageable, the unexpected can change that in an instant.

 

Finding the right combination of activities -- the right balance -- is in the forefront of my mind these days. If I get involved in too many volunteer activities, I feel like there's no time left for me to relax. If I schedule too many things, there's no time for spontaneous things on a day with perfect weather like biking or gardening; there's no time for having lunch with an old friend. And if I spend too much time by myself, I feel like I'm losing touch with others.

 

Even the time I spend by myself is filled with choices. Do I want to read the newspaper or a good book? Do I want to meditate? Should I return phone calls or email messages? When do I fit in my prayer life, which has suffered lately?

 

It's all too easy to experience resentment over anything that seems to be consuming too much time, even if it's something I would otherwise enjoy in moderation. And resentment is dangerous, because it leads to risky behavior. We gotta be real careful about that.

 

I know that there's no perfect balance, because some things are unpredictable. And the right answer for me today might not be so right tomorrow. But I'm going to try to improve things, rearrange things, so that I'm more comfortable with my use of the time that I've been given, because it's a precious gift. Above all, I want to spend enough of it with my Higher Power, and with the people who are so important in my life.

Missing in Action?

I just realized that before today my last post was on October 2 -- more than two months ago. That long? If you read my blog because of your interest in 12-step programs, you're probably thinking that I must have relapsed. Because of stress or pain or worry -- or perhaps for no good reasom at all -- I must have taken that first drink. And one drink is all it takes for an alcoholic. Down that slippery slope we go. Or in my case, down the stairs "ass over teakettle" as the Brits might say.

But no, I'm still sober, thank God. In fact, this past week has been very easy, despite the fact that it included our niece Heather's wedding. That's because Brad's brother and his family don't drink. They just don't. Never did. Ask Bill and he says "Never saw the point of it." The minister who performed the ceremony is 40 years sober. AND  he's a police and veterans chaplain as well. Yes, that's you, Clay. So there just wasn't any temptation around.

On Sunday we went to brunch with my long, long,-time friend Julie. Her newish husband Dave is 4 years sober. Who knew? We're everywhere!

So why haven't I blogged? Don't really know. Haven't written much in my journal either. But I figure that if I start blogging, it'll come back to me. So here I am, phone in hand. Again, today.

Progress in small steps

The last two times we were on a cruise, both during my first year sober, three things were different. First, it was a little bit hard to pass up a drink before dinner, or wine with dinner. It required will power to say "No, thanks." Second, I told several people we met that I was a member of AA, right off the bat. And third, I tried to organize an AA meeting on board. Not much luck, although there were several fellow passengers who could use one.

This most recent time, on a river cruise from Budapest to Bucharest, it was different. When offered a drink I promptly said, "Yes, please!" and asked for water or a soft drink. I had no urge to advertise my AA membership because no one asked why I wasn't drinking. And I was comfortable without a meeting ... although I did correspond with a fellow AA back home.

Is this progress? I think so ... It's no longer always in the forefront of my mind. Does that mean I'm taking it for granted? Hell no! I give thanks every single morning.

Live Where Your Feet Are At

"Live where your feet are at." I heard that from someone at this morning's meeting, and I liked it enough to write it in my journal. I knew I wanted to blog about it, and now I have the time.

Our speaker, after telling his story, offered the topic of "mindfulness" for our contemplation and sharing. He said that since he got sober and joined our 12-Step Program, a little over a year ago, he tries to keep his life real simple. I know exactly what he means. I can no longer deal with a hectic and over-full life. I used to be fine with it -- that's what my working life was often about -- but not any more. If too many things creep onto my calendar, and especially if too many of those things are social events, I get uncomfortable. I need my alone time. I, too, need to keep it simple.

One of the ways I keep it simple is to practice mindfulness. If you google this word you'll find several different explanations, but I'll give you mine. For me, mindfulness means living fully in the here and now. It means that whatever you are doing at any particular time, pay full attention to it and do it with all your senses. If you're reading a book, pay attention to what you're reading, think about what you're reading. If you're making a salad for dinner, tear or chop the lettuce in uniform pieces, slice the other vegetables in attractive shapes, enjoy the fact that you're preparing a salad -- even if it's just for yourself. If you're talking with a friend, pay full attention to what he is saying, and notice his body language, his tone of voice. Give him real responses, more than just "Uh huh...uh huh..." Keep your mind from wandering off and thinking about what you did yesterday, or what you plan to do tomorrow. It's OK to plan for tomorrow, but not while you're supposed to be doing something else.

Mindfulness is the exact opposite of something that seems to be popular these days -- multi-tasking. Some busy people are proud of the fact that they can talk on the phone, watch TV and do online shopping all at the same time. Not me. No thanks.

Circling back to this morning's meeting, that's why I so liked the saying, "Live where your feet are at." It means live in the here and now. Accept the fact that where you are is, at this moment, where you are. Make the most of it. After all, "now" is the only time we get to live in.

"Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you"

In the first two steps all I had to do was think about my life. I saw that I was powerless over alcohol after I took that first drink. My life wasn't totally unmanageable yet, but it would be if I kept drinking. I couldn't stop all by myself, and my 12-Step Program told me that a Higher Power could help me. I believed it, because I saw a whole lot of people in meetings who believed it, and they were doing just fine. The first two steps didn't require me to DO anything -- just to accept what I was told.

Step Three is a whole different story. It says, "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood him." Turning my will over to anyone -- even God -- is something that I had never envisioned. But I've made the decision. Let's say that I'm willing to be willing. I'm even eager to be willing. That doesn't mean that my will doesn't try to reassert itself -- frequently! Sometimes it's successful. But I keep trying. I've made a beginning, and I will build on that. My intention is to bring my words and my actions into agreement with God's will for me. It's something to work at every single day.

The Epistle lesson for this past Sunday (yesterday) spoke directly to me, and to all 12-Step Program followers, about Step 3.

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devilish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace. Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from? Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures. Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.

Unbound

Every morning I receive, in my email, a thought for the day from the Society of Saint John the Evangelist. Yesterday's thought, written by Brother Curtis Almquist, struck me as being particularly meaningful for those of us in 12-step programs.

"The metaphor that Jesus uses in the Gospels to describe forgiveness is the setting free of a prisoner; it’s to “unbind” someone. Without this, someone is simply chained to their past – probably to repeat their past – and shackled from changing. They will likely stay the same, as will we, their judges."

Without surrendering to my higher power, without working the steps of the program, without the daily support of other members of the program, I will stay chained to my past, and risk repeating my past actions.

When I became part of the program, I didn't want to stay the same. I wanted to change. I wanted what the other members of the program had. So I was told what I needed to do. I needed to stop drinking, go to meetings, get a sponsor, and work the steps. It isn't complicated. But it isn't always easy. I take it one day at a time.

Today I feel like I am unbound. I am no longer chained to the past. I have the power of choice. I am grateful that I know which path to choose. And I have no fear of being judged, because I know that I'm doing the right things.

"Slow is Real, Fast is Not"

Yesterday I went to church at 5pm instead of in the morning. That gave me the opportunity to attend one of my favorite 12-step meetings, at 11am every Sunday at the Men's Home here in Alexandria, VA. It's a speaker's meeting with two speakers, and they also raffle off a free breakfast and other items. It's always a nice, lively bunch of people.

The second speaker told his story of being initially sober for six years. When he came into the program he thought that it would be some kind of "instant fix." He went through the steps quickly -- with halfhearted attention -- and attended meetings "when he had the time." Eventually he stopped going to meetings, had one Margarita with friends, and then drank for four more years. He has now been sober again for several years, attends meetings regularly, has a sponsor and works the program over and over again. His message was that, for him, miracles don't happen overnight. He has to work for them, and sometimes it's like trudging uphill every day. He ended his talk with a quote from someone he called Father Tom:

"Slow is real, fast is not."

I don't know Father Tom, but I agree with his statement. Whenever I try to do something quickly, I usually do a bad job of it, and end up re-doing it later. I have to stop, and force myself to slow down, and try not to be in a hurry. Why am I in a hurry, anyway? Because I want to get this thing done, so that I can do some other thing. I can be a disaster when it comes to something physical or mechanical. My husband repeatedly reminds me, "Don't force it!" when I try to get one thing to fit into another. He's right. Instead of figuring out why it doesn't fit, which takes time, I try to make it fit. I've also been guilty of multi-tasking -- for example, talking to a friend on the phone at the same time that I'm checking my email. You know what happens? I don't pay enough attention to my friend, and I mistakenly trash an important email message.

Doing this, doing that... it's like being on a treadmill. When I spent a blessed month in Father Martin's Ashley (i.e., rehab), I learned that I was a "human being" and not a "human doing." There are some things that need to be done at a certain time, but most of the things I need to do (or want to do) can be done at my own pace. So I try to slow down, to do one thing at a time, and pay attention to the thing I'm doing at that particular time.

I try to practice "mindfulness," which I also learned about at Father Martin's. Mindfulness can be defined as "a state of active, open attention on the present." Instead of letting life pass us by, mindfulness means living in the moment and awakening to experience. If I'm chopping vegetables for dinner, I take my time chopping them into the right sized pieces, and feel satisfied after doing a good job. If I'm working in the garden, I listen to the sounds of the birds, and feel the weight of the earth in my hands, and take my time planting and weeding -- instead of thinking about what I'm going to do tomorrow. If I'm taking a walk with my husband, I give him all my attention -- except for the part of me that needs to watch where I'm walking.

The phrase "Slow is real, fast is not" also applies to changing habits and learning new things -- especially when it comes to 12-step recovery programs. What we were doing before didn't work well for us, whatever it was. We need to learn how to do things differently -- how to identify "triggers," how to know which situations to avoid, how to substitute new and healthy habits for old unhealthy ones. We learn that "meeting-makers make it;" in other words, regular attendance at 12-step meetings helps us to stay on the right path. We learn that having a sponsor, and working the steps, help us to develop a new and solid program for living. We get rid of all the old baggage, one piece at a time, until it's all gone. We put it place certain safeguards, so that it doesn't come back.

All of these things take time. THERE IS NO INSTANT FIX.

Vacation

We just got back from spending five days at Ocean City, Maryland. It's a tacky sort of beach town that has amusement parks and video game arcades and a boardwalk. You walk past one shop after another selling ice cream and french fries and T-shirts and cover-ups and sunglasses and boogie boards and other sorts of beach paraphernalia. Most of the restaurants are pretty basic -- pizza, seafood, burgers and ribs. Most of the people are pretty basic too.


We stay right in the middle of the action at an old hotel that has a big front porch with rocking chairs that face the boardwalk. It's far from luxurious -- the beds sag in the middle and you don't get complimentary toiletries and the WIFI is temperamental -- but it's clean and friendly, it offers tea and coffee 24x7, and you can rent bicycles on the premises.

Why do I insist on a beach vacation at least once every summer? Why do I love it so? Why doesn't it feel like summer is complete without it? Partly because it reminds me of my childhood, and vacations that I took with my parents to similar beach towns -- Altantic City and Wildwood, New Jersey; Jones Beach and Coney Island, New York. My husband says that when I'm at the beach, I'm always 11 years old. But there are other reasons that "going to the beach" is a restorative thing to me, a thing that brings a smile to my face and a new spring to my step.

Wikipedia defines vacation  a leave of absence from a regular occupation. It further explains that "in today's digital society, vacationers may choose to unplug for all or portions of the time, thus separating themselves from the demands of constant digital communications." Yes, that's part of what I love about the beach. It's totally different from being at home. Most of my daily routine (except for early-morning 2-Step meetings) is totally changed. My "to do" list is ignored, and the temperamental WIFI at our hotel forces me to let my incoming email pile up and remain unread. I admit that I do post the occasional photo of a beautiful sunrise on Facebook, but no one's perfect. But ah, the beach. There's no place quite as relaxing, beautiful or pleasant to spend time without electronic gadgets.


^{The beach just makes me feel good. Sunshine is a great source of vitamin D, and my doctor says I need more of that.I've also read that the minerals in the ocean could help reduce symptoms for people with arthritis. According to a study, patients who spent time around salt water experienced fewer symptoms, like morning stiffness and trouble with hand gripping. You know what else can help relieve symptoms of arthritis? Getting enough vitamin D.}

We all tend to be happier in the brighter months of summer and less so in the gloomier months of winter, Sunshine CAN make us happier. A study conducted in Australia found that the amount of sunlight participants' received directly affected their mood, and had a positive effect on stress, sleep and appetite. I'm not claiming that a lack of beach time will lead to symptoms of depression, but I do believe that the beach has got a lot of what our bodies need, all in one beautiful place.

My beach vacation includes very little time actually sitting on the beach. When I'm at the beach, I love to walk. I mean LONG walks right along the exact place where the water and the sand meet. I look at the people on the sand, and the kids in the water, and the birds in the air, and the little airplanes pulling banners that say "TONITE 1/2 PRICE MARGARITAS. JOE'S BAR&GRILL." I think about old friends and good times, and tell my husband stories about my childhood. Before we know it we've walked to the end of the beach, so we turn around and walk all the way in the other direction. Long enough to get good and tired -- and usually sunburned.And if we're not walking, we're riding rented bikes up and down the boardwalk, and along the streets of the town. Sometimes the boardwalk is so crowded that it's a real challenge to avoid other riders, as well as skateboarders, walkers, and families with young kids who have rented surreys and don't have a clue how to drive them. But it's part of what we do at the beach, and our bodies appreciate the exercise. Besides, I have to work off all of the ice cream that I eat at the beach. Every day.

In some mysterious way, being at ocean is good for my mind and my spirit. We are all connected to water from the beginning of life.When I see or hear the ocean -- or any large body of water -- I feel calmer, and closer to God. Prayer and meditation come easier when I'm sitting on the porch, in a rocking chair, watching and hearing the waves break along the shoreline. I feel like I'm a part of everything -- and everything is a part of me.

The Near Side of God

During this morning's Twelve-Step Program meeting, the speaker talked about how relieved he was when he read Step Two: "We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." He knew that he couldn't change himself because, even though he had stopped drinking for several years, he was still an angry and dissatisfied human being. He was no longer drinking, but he wasn't "sober." Step Two told him that there was a Higher Power that would help him -- all he had to do was to turn his will and life over to that Power. He did, and the positive result was obvious to us all.

When the speaker finished, he chose the topic of "Finding Your Higher Power" for the sharing part of the meeting. Several people shared their stories, including their individual perceptions of God "as they understood Him." Although I didn't have the opportunity to share at the meeting, I felt compelled to share it here.

When I was growing up, I learned about a God who is omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent:  all-powerful, all-knowing and everywhere. I still believe this, but I found it hard to develop a close and personal relationship with that kind of God. Then, two things I read changed everything.

The first thing was a book: The Shack, by William P Young. In this story the main character encounters a God that he can get "up close and personal" with. In fact, the God of this story is three persons, each one different from the other, but all somehow linked together. That's all I'm going to tell, because I don't want to spoil the story if you haven't read the book. I highly recommend it.

The second thing was a piece of Program-approved literature that spoke about "the near side of God." The author wrote about grappling with the concept of God, and concluded that God was essentially unknowable, but that He allowed us to approach him by showing us his "near side." That is the part of God that we can feel, that is close to us everywhere and all the time.

I still pray to and worship the God that is all-powerful, all-knowing and everywhere. But I have a close and personal relationship with the near side of God every day. He is always at my side. He laughs at me -- and sometimes with me -- when I think that I'm in control of things. He rolls his eyes when I say or do something totally foolish -- which I do more often than I care to admit. He helps me to turn away from temptation, but then He forgives me when I'm weak and sets me back on the right path. And He gives me a pat on the back when I do or say "the next right thing."

If you're reading this and willing to share your concept of God in the comments section, please do!

Reality is the Way Things Are

I keep lists on my phone. Lists of what I need to do, lists of what I want to do. Lists of places I'd like to go. Lists of books to read, lists of songs to download to my phone, lists of movies to order from Netflix. And I'm old enough to keep a list of my medications.

This morning I'm in the last row of seats on a Smithsonian bus to Reedville, where we will get on a boat to Tangier Island, in the south Chesapeake Bay. This has been on my list of places I want to go for quite some time. 
I just consulted the list called "Quotes" and picked one. It says "See reality as the way things are, not as you want them to be." That's an easy one to write about. It's my story.

When I was growing up as an only child in a working-class neighborhood of the Bronx,  my father told me that I could be anything I wanted to be, and do anything I wanted to do, if I tried hard enough. I believed him -- totally.

Working hard at school got me into the best high school. Working as a waitress on weekends and in the summers got me enough money to supplement my small scholarship to college. Graduating summa cum laude made it easy for me to be accepted into grad school. An advanced degree, good test scores and a lively interview got me hired into a Federal management intern program. Being good at what I did, learning a variety of disciplines and taking advantage of opportunities -- and being a woman in the right place at the right time -- helped me become an executive. Changing jobs from time to time kept things interesting. Retiring at age 55 with a full pension put me in a position of being able to just about anything I wanted, within reason.

While I was making all these things happen, I also lived a normal and happy personal life. I made -- and have kept -- many good friends. I  experienced the joys and heartbreaks of young love. I dated a variety of young men and married one before I even graduated from college. When we realized that we were growing in different directions, we divorced with relatively little pain. I jumped back into the free-wheeling social pool of the '70s with great abandon, and then found a wonderful man who I have now been married to for 36 years. We had no children by choice rather than by chance. We found and became members of a church that supports and sustains us. We were now both retired with adequate investments and a comfortable income, ready to travel and bike ride and explore new activities.

It was a wonderful life, almost perfect, that I had worked for and grasped and nurtured. Things were exactly the way they were supposed to be. ..... And then they weren't.

My body became uncooperative. I had pain, first in my neck and shoulders, later in my hip and lower back and leg. I had experienced health problems before during my near-perfect life. I could always get them fixed through medications or therapy or surgery. So I had surgery for my neck. It worked. I was fine again ... for a while. Then other pain, and a diagnosis of osteoarthritis, and the knowledge that it was progressive.

Pain got in the way of living my near-perfect life. Over-the-counter meds didn't help. I was afraid of narcotic meds because my mom "had trouble" with them. I was frustrated. I couldn't do things I wanted to do. I couldn't enjoy a number of daily activities. This was NOT the way things were supposed to be. I NEEDED it to be the way I wanted it to be.

When I finished my ritual glass of single malt Scotch before dinner, I felt a little better. Some days I had a second glass. Then most days. When I worked preparing food in the kitchen, standing, I hurt. A glass of wine on the counter started to appear. The glass was emptied and refilled. The same thing began when I worked on the computer. Over a relatively short period of time, I was starting the morning with whiskey in my coffee and ending the day with a shot from a hidden bottle. I stopped feeling my pain. But I also didn't feel much of anything else. I became devious about hiding bottles and making up stories about why I was stumbling over pieces of furniture. My world got quite narrow, and I drank because I drank. And then I began to black out, and fall down the stairs.

Reality was not what I wanted it to be. Reality was that I had unintentionally become an alcoholic in my pursuit of eliminating my pain. I had entered a new and even more painful reality.

A month in rehab and daily 12-step meetings ever since have taught me much about handling reality. The Serenity Prayer tells me "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."

I cannot change my condition. I cannot avoid growing older and all that comes with it. I can do whatever is healthy and reasonable to be the best I can be. I can do yoga and cardio and weight training to be a fit 63-year-old. I can investigate non-narcotic medications that address my pain. I can, through prayer and meditation, maintain a strong spiritual life. And I can share my story, to remind myself and, possibly, help others.

Postscript: I'm posting this after we return from Tangier Island. They proudly say that they now have wifi on the island, but I didn't try to find it.

"Accept the fact that you're not God"

When I was growing up, my father said to me, "You can do anything you want to do, and be anything you want to be." This was a wonderful gift at a time (the 1950s) that girls and women were just beginning to argue for their place in society, and years before women began to fight for equality. It gave me the self-confidence to become a star pupil, to play softball with the guys, and later to become a government executive. 

There's a downside to this gift, however. When we believe that we can do anything and be anything, we also believe that we can fix anything that's broken -- all by ourselves. We don't EVER feel like we have to ask for help, not from our spouses, not from our friends, not from our colleagues, not even from God. That seemed to work pretty well for me until I hit my early 60's, when I developed anxiety disorder and became an alcoholic. These were two things that, at least in part, were caused by my "I can do it all" attitude. They were ruining my life. And they were two things I couldn't fix all by myself. 

When I entered a 12-Step Program, I learned that my problem was a very common one. Another member said to me, "Accept the fact that you're not God. Only God can do anything, and he's waiting to help you out, if you ask him to."

The Serenity Prayer, which we pray together at the end of every meeting, uses the following words:

 

As I began "working the steps," I discovered that the first three steps focus directly on the problems I was having.

1. We admitted we were powerless - that our lives had become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

When we're ready to do the Third Step, we say the following prayer.

"God, I offer myself to Thee -- to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy power, Thy love, and Thy way of life. May I do Thy will always!"

I've done the Third Step once so far, but that doesn't mean that I've done it perfectly or thoroughly. I've "made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God," but from time to time I fall into old habits and think that it's all up to me. That's when attending meetings regularly, and reading Program literature, remind me that there's a better solution. To use a common phrase, I'm "willing to be willing," and that's at least heading in the right direction.

There are now times when I actually ask for help. It doesn't come naturally, but when I do it saves me from a lot of frustration. I can't do everything and I can't be anything. All I can do is the best I can do, and the "next right thing." Beyond that, I ask for God's help in knowing what He wants me to do.

Stressed Out or Anxious? Just Breathe...

Do you find yourself "stressed out" or anxious on certain days or at certain times? Of course you do. I can with all honesty admit that I'm a member of the same club ... although several of my friends have asked me what I have in my life to get stressed or anxious about. I'm retired, for gosh sake. I don't have any economic problems. I have a loving husband and a healthy marriage. We don't have any children (with or without issues), or living parents who still need care. So what is there in my life that causes anxiety?

Nothing much. But I'm perfectly capable of creating my own anxiety. It's just the way I am. I create lists of things that I want to accomplish, and then I get anxious if I don't get them done. I have an ache or pain that I've never had before, and I imagine all sorts of terrible things it might be a symptom of. I get to the airport long before I really need to because "you never know what might happen along the way." That's me, in a nutshell.

Three things that help me to relax and reduce my anxieties are exercise, yoga and meditation. Exercise helps because it works off the adrenaline that builds up when we get anxious -- it's that same natural "fight or flight" mechanism that we've all learned about. Our bodies are ready to do SOMETHING! ... so we need to work it off. Take a long walk, work in the garden, clean the house, go to the gym, whatever works.

Yoga and meditation help me to relax because they both help me focus on my breathing. Taking regular, deep breaths is an easy and almost foolproof way to quickly diffuse anxiety and stress. People who teach yoga and meditation will spend a fair amount of time teaching their students how to breathe properly. But I'm going to share a shortcut. In the January 2015 issue of Real Simple magazine, Margaret Townsend, a certified "breathwork practitioner" (who knew there was such a thing?), offers a simple exercise that we can all try when we get stressed. It worked for me.

"Think about a stressful situation you're facing at the moment -- something small or something epic. Close your eyes and scan your body, noticing where you feel tension when you think about this tough situation. It might take a minute to find the right spot. (Good places to check: jaw, shoulders, belly, chest, throat.)

Rest your hand on the tense spot and take a deep but comfortable inhale, imagining the breath flowing into and around the spot. Exhale naturally, all the way out. Repeat a few times, letting your breath take you right into the center of the tension; your hand will help remind you to direct the breath. 

If you've noticed tension in more than one spot, move your hand -- and your breath -- to another spot and repeat. Then relax, eyes closed, hands in your lap, and feel the new softness of those spots. 

You can do this exercise anytime, anywhere, even with your eyes open -- and even if you're not sure what the source of your tension is. Breathing into tightness and softening creates a gentle space for tensions to relax."

Travel Temptations

We are at this moment sitting in the airport of Quebec City waiting for our flight home. Seems like a good time for a short post.

Twelve days in Nova Scotia,  Prince Edward Island and Quebec. Ten days on a small cruise ship. It's hard not to notice that most people on vacation do things we might not do otherwise. We eat more, including desserts -- myself included. We might dress differently -- I bought a pair of flannel trousers (pyjama pants?) in the plaid of the Nova Scotia tartan and wore them proudly. And many travelers drink a great deal of alcohol at all times of the day.

Bloody Marys and Mimosas in the morning, beer and wine with lunch, several "whatevers" during cocktail hour, wine with dinner,  and a nightcap before retiring. I noticed one couple who always -- always -- had drinks in their hands. After a couple of days I grew irritated every time I heard the announcement "The bar is (still) open." Then I just let it go...

I'm grateful that there were plenty of things to drink that aren't alcoholic. I'm grateful that the bartender quickly learned and remembered my preferances. And I'm grateful for the evening that I chatted with the two members of the band and discovered that they, too, are members of the same 12-step program.

It was a lovely vacation, I never had to nurse a hangover, and I remember it all.

Imprisoned

During this morning's 12-Step meeting we read a story in the magazine called "Grapevine" written by a young woman whose childhood was so filled with violence and turmoil that she was certain she would end up in the women's prison that was near her home. Instead, having participated in a residential rehabilitation program and entered a 12-Step program, she found herself bringing 12-Step meetings to the women who were incarcerated in that prison.

After we read the story, we shared our thoughts about what it meant to be imprisoned. A few members of the group had spent a night in jail on one or more occasions -- usually arrested for "driving under the influence" and in one instance for public drunkenness. One member had served time in prison. These people, now sober, smiling and with cups of coffee in their hands, aren't any different from you me. In fact there, but for the grace of God, go I. There was at least one occasion when my Mini-Cooper must have driven itself to the coffee shop where I was meeting someone for lunch -- and parked itself as well -- because I don't even remember getting behind the wheel.

Mostly we talked about other kinds of imprisonment -- the kinds that are of our own making. Naturally, we talked about being imprisoned by alcohol or drugs, and after the meeting one man made a humorous comment about wanting to be set free, but "not being able to walk past the bars." We talked about the prisons of fear, of self-pity and of self-image. It's almost impossible to be spontaneous, or to be "happy, joyous and free," if you're locked into a certain view of the world, or of yourself. I thought of many other ways we can be imprisoned. The prisons of depression or anxiety can keep us from enjoying even life's simple daily gifts. The prison of isolation keeps us from seeking out, and gaining consolation and strength from, contact with other human beings. The prisons of too much dependence -- or too much independence -- forces us out of the natural balance between trusting others and relying upon our own skills. The prison of lethargy or laziness -- due to whatever cause -- prevents us from the joy of accomplishment.

In recent weeks I have felt imprisoned -- by pain and by fear. One morning I woke up and something was wrong with my left hip. The range of motion of my right side was seriously limited, I couldn't stand up or lie down fully straightened, and I couldn't walk without limping. The pain was severe when I moved, and still there -- constant and relentless -- even when I didn't. I could only fall sleep in the fetal position, lying on my opposite side, and if I moved in my sleep I immediately woke up.

After manipulating my leg in a series of excruciating movements, the doctor said, "Yes, it's a hip problem," gave me a prescription for pain medicine and sent me for an x-ray. The x-ray showed nothing unusual, so he sent me for an MRI. In the meantime my natural tendency towards anxiety about any health issue kicked in. (The psychological term for this is "catastrophizing.") I was afraid this would be permanent. I would never be able to ride my bicycle or work in the garden ever again! I would become a "couch potato" and gain weight!! I would become a tiresome invalid who would bore my poor husband with my inactivity and complaints..... In addition to all of this self-pity, I resented and feared each pain pill that I took. I would have to take them for the rest of my life. I would become addicted to them! I would have to take more and more of them!! Then they wouldn't help any more and I would have to suffer through agonizing withdrawal..... Despite my prayers for patience and friends' advice that "this too shall pass," I was (borrowing a phrase from current slang) a "hot mess." I was well and truly imprisoned, even more by my thoughts than by my physical state.

The end of the story was predictable. I want back to see the doctor. The MRI showed degenerated cartilage, inflammation, and fluid accumulation around the hip joint. The osteoarthritis that I inherited from my mother was up to its usual nasty tricks. The doctor withdrew about 1/2 cup of fluid from around the joint, and pumped in three shots of cortisone. Removal of the fluid, and the pressure that it put on the nerve, resulted in some immediate relief. The cortisone will do its work in 3-5 days. I'll be able to stop taking the pain medicine. We don't know what caused this to flare up, and it may happen again someday, but for now my mind is at peace. I take a deep breath and say a prayer of gratitude. The door of my prison has been opened, and I'm free!

Similarities

A fellow member of my 12-step program "home group" is an Episcopal priest, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that we often talk about spiritual things before or after a meeting. One of our memorable conversations was about the similarity between going to a meeting and going to a religious service.

12-step programs and religious faiths both establish a sense of community, of belonging to a group of like-minded people. Each can be found world-wide and, whether we attend a meeting or a church (or temple or mosque) outside of our home community, we can be reasonably certain that we will be accepted as "one of them" even if we don't speak their language. In fact, members of both groups go out of their way to seek out newcomers and introduce them to other members. In both cases, however, we will feel most at home with our specific "home group" or place of worship. These members are like family -- we know their habits and traditions, their likes and dislikes, their joys and sorrows, their generosity and quirks.

12-step meetings and religious services each have a structure that they adhere to -- most of the time -- and the structures themselves are remarkably similar. During most meetings (except for some speaker's meetings) and all services, one or more people read from "approved literature" that consists of stories and other writngs that illustrate important aspects of the program or faith. It might be the "Big Book" or the "Twelve and Twelve," or it might be the Bible, the Torah or the Koran. These readings instruct us in our daily living. After the readings, one or more people will talk about the readings, what they mean, and how they apply to daily life. In a religious service, this part is most often a minister delivering a sermon or homily to the congregation. In a meeting the speaking part is called "sharing." One or two speakers might be the only ones doing the sharing, but in most meetings anyone can (and will) share.

Sometime around the middle of the service or a meeting, a basket will be passed around for voluntary contributions. In both cases, this is usually a time when announcements will be made about upcoming activities and news about individual members.

Religious services and meetings both close with one or more prayers asking God or a "higher power" to sustain the members until the next time they can gather together.

The last two similarities apply more to Christianity than to other faiths. First, during many Christian services the members will together recite a creed that outlines the tenets of their faith. During many meetings, one or more members will recite from something that describes the basic tenets of the program, usually the steps, with some parts recited in unison. Second, most Christian faiths either require or allow for confession -- non-specific group confession or individual, private confession with a priest or minister. 12-step programs include a fourth and fifth step where a member first seeks to identify personal "defects" and then shares them with another trusted member. In both cases this represents an "unburdening" that is intended to cleanse the soul and/or the spirit.

I'm very fortunate to be a member of both kinds of groups -- two lively communities of diverse members where I can learn how to really "live" life, share problems and solutions, give and receive support in times of joy and sorrow, and gather with others in recognition that it really isn't "all about me."

"Hearts in Atlantis"

We just returned from a small-ship cruise from Barcelona to Rome, stopping at ports along the Spanish, French and Italian Riviera. The cruise didn't have any 12-step meetings, but I spent some time reading a Stephen King novella that touches on the subject of addiction in a very interesting way. The novella is called "Hearts in Atlantis."

The setting is a college in the northeastern part of the United States in 1966. The Vietnam War has recently escalated. Peter is a freshman from a small town who's dependant upon his scholarship which, in turn,is dependant upon Peter's maintaining at least a 2.5 grade point average.

Atlantis stands for the physical and psychological virginity that Peter has experienced up to this point. Stable home, high school girlfriend, good grades, and almost no knowledge of the war. Atlantis is a golden place, a golden age that is destined for a catastrophic end.

"Hearts" stands for two different things as well. The card game of Hearts becomes a compulsion, an addiction that overtakes Peter and his friends, threatening their grades and their futures. And Peter's heart leads him to love and friendship, and ultimately heartbreak, before the end of the story.

The story is about awakening and what follows afterwards. For several of the characters, what follows is too much of something -- too many card games, too much drinking, too much sex, too much activity protesting the war. Peter has a second awakening that saves him from destruction. Others don't, despite the knowledge that their lives have become unmanageable.

A good read, especially for someone who remembers that era.

HALT!

My computer's printer has a problem. I was pretty sure that the problem was with the printer's wireless connection to Hewlett Packard. I called them on Saturday afternoon. They tried a number of things until, two hours later, they finally agreed that the problem was on their end, and promised to fix it. They haven't. They were supposed to call me this morning on my land line. Instead they called on my cell, which was on "silent" mode. I called them back. I've now been on hold, listening to their music for 30 minutes, while waiting for someone to talk to. This wasn't part of the plan.....

I'm angry! It's a very uncomfortable feeling. My heart is beating faster. I'm perspiring. Most of my muscles are tense. I'm gritting my teeth. I feel the beginning of a tension headache. I want this feeling to go away!

In 12-step programs they teach us about HALT triggers. HALT means "Hungry, Angry, Lonely and Tired." If we are experiencing any one of these feelings, we are at risk of doing something we wouldn't otherwise do. It might be drinking, drug use, eating a quart of ice cream, yelling at our significant other, or throwing something. We want to make the bad feelings go away -- either by burying them (in alcohol, drugs or ice cream) or by releasing them (yelling or throwing things). This bit of wisdom applies to ALL human beings, and not just to those of us in 12-step programs. We are all at risk of doing something we wouldn't normally do when we encounter one of the HALT triggers. (By the way, they are called "triggers" because, when you encounter them, something inevitably goes "boom!")

The first thing that helps me deal with one of these triggers is to recognize it and call it by name. In my case, it helps to actually say this to another person: "I'm really angry!" This seems to take away some of the power that the emotion has over me. It also prevents me from holding it inside and letting it churn, because over time it can turn into resentment -- an emotion that has even more risk attached to it. Some of us may have been raised to believe that it's wrong to get angry. Not so! It's a perfectly natural and valid emotion. Some of us may also be embarrassed to admit that we're lonely because it conjures up all sorts of negative connotations. But we don't have to be alone to feel lonely -- it can happen in the middle of a crowd. It just means that we feel disconnected from other people, and it can occur under all sorts of circumstances.

The second thing to do is to identify the cause of the emotion. I'm angry because I've been on hold for more than 30 minutes and there are other things I need to do that I can't do while I'm on the phone. I might be hungry because I skipped breakfast and it's almost 11am. I might be lonely because my back pain has prevented me from doing some of the things I normally do, and I've felt isolated at home. I might be tired because I slept poorly last night, or because I've been trying to accomplish too many things on my "to do" list without allowing myself any time to relax and recharge.

The third thing to do is to address the problem directly. This is actually the easiest part! I'm angry about being on hold, so I hang up the phone. (I just did.) I can try this again later -- or tomorrow. I sit quietly and take several deep breaths. If that isn't enough to calm me down, I might take a walk, or meditate, or pick up my knitting and watch TV for a while. If I'm hungry I have a snack or a meal so that my blood sugar level returns to where it should be. If I'm lonely I call a friend, or attend a meeting, or schedule something that will reconnect me with other people. If I'm tired I stop doing whatever is tiresome. I might take a nap, or do something else that relaxes me. (Back to knitting and TV for me...)

The smart thing to do is to try to avoid these triggers in the future. We can eat regular meals and have a snack if too much time has gone by. We can try to avoid placing ourselves in situations that make us angry. (I admit that I shouldn't have chosen the Monday morning "peak call volume" time to call Hewlett Packard.) We can keep in touch with family and friends (in person, not just by telephone or through social media). We can try to get enough rest, even if we have to put it on the schedule. We can't avoid them all, but some of them are under our control.

Who (or what) is in charge today?

This morning's meeting focused on a wonderful subject. It was one of those rare times when everyone stayed on the same subject, without wandering off into some side alley. Before I write more about this, I'm thinking that some of you who aren't familiar with 12-step programs might wonder what a meeting is like, so I'll explain a little.

Meetings are regularly-scheduled at the same place -- every weekday at 11:00 am in the community center, for example. It usually lasts one hour, and most of the time someone makes coffee. We stop and get coffee before we sit down. (I'm always surprised, and often disappointed, if coffee is missing. It just doesn't feel right.) Someone sets up the chairs before the meeting. Really big meetings might have auditorium seating, everyone facing in the same direction. In other meetings everyone is arranged in a circle or a square, facing each other. (I like that kind best because we can see one another.) I chat with my neighbor until someone who is in charge leads the meeting with a welcome statement and other useful information (e.g., "please park in the back parking lot"). We all try to be on time, but there are always "latecomers" who straggle in for a variety of reasons.

There are different kinds of meetings, and I'll name a few. In "speakers meetings" one or more of us will tell our story: "what it was like, what happened and what it's like now." If there is time left, others will have a chance to "share" what we'd like to say about the subjects introduced by the speakers. In "literature meetings" we read from a specific book, or from different types of literature. We go around the room, with each person reading a paragraph or two. Again, if there's time left, we share our thoughts. In "step meetings" we focus our reading and conversation on specific steps of the program. There's one thing that's the rule at all meetings -- we talk about the program and our personal experiences -- not about Sunday's football game, not about the weather, not about our recent vacation. We're here for a purpose.

Back to this morning's subject -- the words "if" and "because." It was about the times that we say, or think to ourselves, "It'll be easy to stay sober IF something happens (or doesn't happen)" or "I stumbled or relapsed BECAUSE something happened (or didn't happen"). It's easy, and very tempting, to place blame on factors outside ourselves. "If my health improves, I'll have the incentive to stay sober." "My boss cut my work hours, so I had a drink." In reality, it's entirely up to us. If we allow these other things to control what we do, we're going to fail. That's one of the foundations of Step 2, "Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." In Step 1 we admit that our lives are unmanageable, and in Step 2 we recognize that someone else (or something else) needs to be in charge.

One person shared how she says to herself every morning, "I can never drink again, no matter what." Another person said that when he gets all wrapped up in some problem or another, "I don't have a drinking problem, I have a thinking problem." A third person said "things are never really as bad as my imagination makes them out to be."

All of this made me focus on the thing I spend too much time thinking about recently -- my back and leg pain. It keeps me from doing a lot of things I enjoy doing, like gardening and bicycling. The past two treatments haven't worked well, and I'm full of resentment about it. I can't even stand still for very long without needing to get off my feet! Then I remember something I read a month or two ago that said, "Expectations lead to resentment." In other words, if you expect something good to happen, and it doesn't, you'll experience resentment, or disappointment. Resentment is a very common cause of relapse, because we want that bad feeling to go away. Right now.

By the time the meeting was over, I decided that I was going to try harder to focus on other things. In the Serenity Prayer we say, "God grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Since I'm doing everything I possibly can right now to treat the pain, I have to accept it and focus on the rest of my life. At some point I will most likely be given a treatment that will reduce the pain, even if I have to have the courage to say yes to another surgery. In the meantime, despite the fact that I must limit my gardening and can't ride my bicycle, life is still full of wonderful things for which I am very grateful -- my husband, our two kitties Wrigley and Phoebe, my friends, travel, volunteer work, yoga classes and meditation, needlework.....

Going to the meeting this morning was valuable. I didn't learn anything brand new, but it reminded me of things that I already knew to be true, and had temporarily mislaid from my conscious thought. A lot of meetings are like that. That's why we "keep coming back."

To Relieve Anxiety, "Easy Does It"

In an earlier post I said that I'd write later about ways of dealing with anxiety -- other than drinking to blot it out. I found out that drinking wasn't a great long-term solution because then I had two reasons to be anxious: the original one (whatever that was) and the fact that I was spending a lot of time with a drink in my hand.

In some cases there are bona fide reasons for anxiety, such as anticipation of a stressful situation that we know is coming up. We're about to give a speech and we're nervous. We're going to have a "difficult discussion" with someone and we don't know how well it's going to go. These things are real, and make us anxious for good reason. In some cases we can pinpoint the reason for anxiety, even if it's not a particularly sensible one. For me, I get anxious if I have some new symptom and I don't know what's causing it. This is a problem for me because I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. Knowing this helps, but it doesn't necessarily keep me from being anxious anyway.

In some cases, for some people, anxiety hits and we don't have a clue where it's coming from. It might be caused by something specific, but it's buried somewhere in our subconscious mind, and we can't figure it out no matter how much we try. Or I've read that it might be some kind of chemical imbalance in our brain. Either way, we can't directly address it because we don't know what "it" is. This used to show up for me at about 3 o'clock in the morning. I'd wake up and have a pounding heartbeat and a jittery feeling. It's awful and it just won't go away.

First I'm going to talk briefly about medical solutions, because they might be necessary. Then I'm going to talk about other things to try, things hat have helped me.

If we go to our physician and talk about anxiety, there's a good chance that he/she will prescribe something like Xanax. That's what mine did at first. It generally works well, but it isn't a long-term solution because we can become addicted to it. I did. And when we combine it with any other mood-altering substances like alcohol, it magnifies the effect and can become dangerous to our physical safety. For example, I started having more frequent incidents of stumbling over pieces of furniture. I swore that they did it on purpose!

There are other long-term pharmacological treatments for "free-floating anxiety" that are less dangerous. I now take one of them, once a day, and it works without causing me to "zone out." If you have this sort of problem, do some research and have a long talk with your physician. You might need to see a psychiatrist or another kind of therapist. Do it -- it's worth the time and effort.

Since I went to a rehab facility at Father Martin's Ashley, and since I joined a 12-step program, I've learned other ways to relieve anxiety that have helped me a lot. One is yoga and another is meditation. I used to think of both of them as new-age, "woo-woo" practices for people who were "not like me. I envisioned aging hippie vegetarians sitting cross-legged at sunrise chanting "Ommmm..." Now I'm one of them!

Yoga loosens the joints, stretches the muscles, and quiets the mind. I'm not talking about hot yoga or the kind that pushes you rapidly from position to position without a chance to take a breath. I practice a kind of "gentle yoga" that proceeds slowly, gives me easier options if I can't manage a specific contortion, and begins and ends with quiet relaxation. I go to yoga classes at the local YMCA for three reasons: I appreciate the sense of community in my group, I like the instructor, and having it on my schedule helps me to really DO it. But it can be practiced at home and alone if we prefer it that way. The bottom line is this: I've gone into a yoga class feeling anxious and unsettled, but I've never ended it that way.

Meditation helps me with my 12-step program. At each 12-step meeting we recite the Serenity Prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Meditation is one way that helps me achieve the serenity, the courage and the wisdom. There are different kinds of meditation (I didn't know this before). I like to practice "mindfulness" because it helps me to focus on the present moment, rather than dwelling in the past or worrying about the future. It allows me to examine whatever is going on in my mind, and in my life, and to accept it. It also gives me quiet time to just sit and "be." I think of it as a companion to prayer. When I pray I communicate with God. When I meditate, I am open for God to communicate with me. Sometimes this happens and sometimes it doesn't, and that's okay too. The bottom line for meditation, as with yoga, is that it leaves me feeling calm and peaceful. My goal is to meditate for at least ten minutes every day. Some days I forget, and other days I do it for longer than ten minutes, or even several times during the day. In the beginning it was hard to achieve that peaceful feeling. The more I do it, the easier it gets.

I still get anxious from time to time. Most of the time I can now better identify the cause. Maybe I'm rushing to meet some kind of self-imposed deadline. Maybe I'm trying to accomplish something and I'm frustrated because I can't quite get it right. I feel my neck muscles get tense, and my breathing get shallower, and my heartbeat speed up. When I feel it coming, I try to consciously address it. I slow down whatever I'm doing, or I stop doing it. If I'm sitting down, I get up and stretch. I take several slow, deep breaths. I ask myself, "Does this really have to be finished right now?" Maybe not. Maybe instead I should take a walk, or sit in a quiet place and do a little meditation, or even plop myself in front of the TV with some knitting in my hands. Maybe I should be a "human being" instead of a "human doing."

If  there's a specific thing that I'm anxious about, I ask myself, "What action can I take about this?" If I'm worried about my health, I make a doctor's appointment. If I'm troubled by a relationship issue, I talk to the person about it. If I'm frustrated because I can't figure something out, I ask for help. In many cases, I say a prayer. And then I let it go. I've done everything I can do. The rest is up to God.

"Easy Does It" is one of the most popular sayings in 12-step programs, because when we don't take it easy we get stressed, and when we get stressed we're more vulnerable to temptation. We want the uncomfortable feelings to go away, and we drink (or do drugs, or eat, or gamble). But this doesn't make them go away, it just temporarily blots them out. They always come back. Much better to address the stress, or the anxiety, in a positive way when the first symptoms occur. Take my word for it.

Step 1. We admitted we were powerless—that our lives had become unmanageable

I knew that I had a problem. By the time I walked through the door into my first 12-step meeting at 7:00 am, my husband also knew that I had a problem, because I had tearfully spilled my guts at 3:00 am that same morning. But I actually had two problems: the original one, and the fact that I didn't know how to solve it. I had tried to go back to "normal drinking," i.e., one or maybe two scotch-on-the-rocks before dinner, and that's all. I had failed abysmally. For several mornings in a row I had woken up, painfully hung over, and sworn to myself "Today will be different!" It wasn't. What was going on? At all other times in my life, when I had decided that I was going to do something, I did it. What made this different? I'm thankful that I knew at least one place to go to find out.

One of the first things I learned when I entered my 12-step program is that newcomers are welcomed. The second thing I learned is that I didn't have to have been successful in giving up my problem yet. The person who reads the meeting "preamble" tells you that all you need is "a desire to stop" giving in to your compulsion (drinking, using drugs, overeating, gambling, etc.). That's enough to get you in the door.

I learned about the steps. I was told that if I got a sponsor, and "worked the steps" with my sponsor, and was serious about it, I had an excellent chance of recovery. So I got a temporary sponsor and we set up a time to start working the steps.

Step 1 asked me to admit that I was powerless, and that my life had become unmanageable. I was okay with the second part, and had the stitches to prove it, but the first part? Powerless? I had never admitted to being powerless over anything. If I wanted something or some outcome, I came up with a plan, carried it out, came up with another plan if the first one didn't work, and finally achieved my goal. After all, my father told me when I was about ten years old, "You can do anything you want to do, and be anything you want to be." I believed that. It had always been true...

... except for this time. I relapsed. I let myself get stressed out over preparations for a dinner party, and I drank. I couldn't stop myself. I desperately needed to dampen the anxiety that was building up, and I couldn't think of any other way to do it*. The rational part of my brain said no, but the irrational part of my brain won out. Later I learned that this is extremely common, especially in the beginning. The dinner party wasn't a total disaster, but it was far from my finest hour.

Admitting I was powerless became easier after that incident. I often have to be hit upside the head by a two-by-four in order to get the point. But I do, eventually, get the point.

*  Now I know about other ways, much better ways, to relieve anxiety. I also know how to keep it from building in the first place. I'll write about that some other day.

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Four Secrets to Living Longer, Healthier and Happier

I'm not a big fan of Parade Magazine, one of the color supplements that come with the Sunday Washington Post (and probably other newspapers as well). Its meager pages usually celebrity gossip, recipes that don't appeal to me, and lots of advertisements aimed at the AARP crowd (of which I, admittedly, am one).

But yesterday's Parade had an article that I read all the way through, and liked enough to share it. It's called Cheater's Guide to Living to 100, and it lists four "secrets" to living longer, healthier and happier. Before I tell more, I want to say upfront that I have no particular desire to live to 100, the four suggestions aren't secrets, and following the suggestions have nothing to do with cheating -- they just make good sense. But the title of the article was, no doubt, designed to attract readers, and it worked.

The first secret is Find Your Tribe. "The people who live longest surround themselves with people who support healthy behaviors." The article mentions friends, faith-based communities, families and life partners. I would add fellow members of 12-Step programs, because we support all kinds of healthy behaviors -- physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. Each of us entered the program because we were practicing some kind of seriously-unhealthy behavior, and wanted to change. That's exactly what I wanted. What I didn't know at the time was that I would end up changing several behaviors that didn't seem connected to the reason I came in. For example, I wanted to stop drinking. Because of what I heard from other people in the rooms, I took up yoga and meditation. These two practices reduced my anxiety, improved my physical and mental health, and support my continuing sobriety.

The third secret is Seek a Purpose. People who live longer "have an activity, passion or career that motivates them and gives their lives meaning." Amen to that! If we don't have a reason to get up in the morning, and if there isn't something we can look forward to or hope for, then where's the joy in life? It doesn't have to be a "change the world" type of activity, as long as it's something that we enjoy and that gives us a reason for getting out of bed each day. When I first came into the rooms, my primary reason for hauling my butt out of bed was to attend my 7:00 am Early Birds meeting. No matter how bad I felt -- and some days it was pretty bad -- I always felt uplifted by the end of the meeting. Today, a year later, that's still true. And whether or not we have some other activity that motivates us (which I do), the program gives us the opportunity to help others, to "be of service." That alone seems to be enough for some people, and they do it with great pleasure and satisfaction.

The second and fourth secrets are Eat Smart and Move It. The importance of a healthy diet and some kind of regular physical activity are well known, whether or not we actually practice them. During the months before I entered the program, I drank more calories than I ate, and stopped going to the gym. Now I try to eat smart, although ice cream still calls to me, and I practice yoga. When I get my recent pain issue (from spinal stenosis) under control, I want to resume bicycle riding and walking. I know that it will help me feel better in so many ways. And it's something I can do with my husband -- that produces a whole bunch of other emotional benefits!

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Being in Community

I've been struggling yesterday and today, but (thank God) it's with something we ALL go through at times. It's either a bad cold or a light case of the flu. I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that I was glad to be able to get to the Stations of the Cross service at Grace Church today, and read my meditation without sneezing at the lectern.

I haven't done much else other than nap, drink tea, eat soup, watch TV and read the newspaper. And I probably wouldn't be writing in this blog if it weren't for the newspaper. Today's Washington Post has a column by Lonnae O'Neal entitled "A once-a-year churchgoer confronts a preacher." I would have read and enjoyed the column under any circumstances, but one part grabbed me:

"There is a blessing for those who get their church from TV or streaming on their laptops, Lee said. But then he spoke to the thing that has felt truest for me since I was a little girl: There is also the spirituality that comes from being in community, he said. That’s about getting out of your silos, even if it is a silo with God, and being in fellowship with the person next to you — 'grappling with people who are also grappling, and trying to get it right.'"

That's what 12-step programs are all about, just as much for regular churchgoers as for those who don't. The spirituality that comes from being in community. Grappling with people -- like you -- who are also grappling, And trying to get it right.

The meeting that I regularly attend -- my "home group" -- is just as much family to me as my church family. We celebrate small successes and milestones, we encourage each other to "keep coming back," and we comfort each other when hard times occur. And we accept and love each other, regardless.

What Program?

I can hardly believe that it's been nearly a year since I stopped posting to my previous blog, Graceful Worship. So much has happened since then!

On April 10, 2014, I signed myself into Father Martin's Ashley, a 30-day residential rehabilitation program in Havre de Grace, MD. For approximately six months I had been drinking heavily in denial of the inevitable signs of aging, and also to escape from the physical pain of arthritis and the emotional pain of anxiety. But no matter how hard I tried to escape, I couldn't escape from myself. I'm thankful that I recognized what I was doing to myself before I did any serious and long-lasting damage to my body, my spirit, my marriage and my friendships. I needed help, and someone I had met "in the rooms" steered me in the right direction. I will forever be in his debt.

My 30 days at Father Martin's began a journey of discovery -- about myself and about the world around me. I learned that I was afraid of getting older and had a tendency towards catastrophizing every ache and pain of unknown origin. I learned that I was a perfectionist who could never quite measure up to the standards I set for myself, but was reluctant to ask for help. I learned that I was a "human doing" more than a "human being," filling my days with more activities and commitments than I could possibly handle. I learned that I was insecure in my relationships with others -- ALL others, including those closest to me. I learned that virtually all of my pains and anxieties were caused by stress -- and that most of my stress was self-induced.

I began to slow down. At Father Martin's you have no choice. You surrender your mobile devices and learn to live without them. You read instead of watching television. You get out of bed when they tell you to; eat (healthy) meals when they tell you to; go to lectures, films and group therapy when they tell you to; and participate in other activities when they tell you to. If you don't show up for any of these things, they find you! When you have a little of that rare commodity called free time, you sit and gaze at the bay, or take a walk, or take a nap, or talk with a new friend.

You attend a 12-step meeting every day. So does everyone else. You begin to learn that you are not "terminally unique," and that other people have had, or still have, the same problems that you do. You learn that there IS a solution. And you learn that if you follow the program, you will find it. You see and listen to and interact with other people just like you who have found it. And you want what they have.

What is the program? It isn't a sect or a cult. And it isn't a secret. Stated simply, it's a set of guiding principles (understood by most as spiritual principles) outlining a course of action for tackling problems. There are 12 discrete steps that cover the following: 

• admitting that you cannot control your problem(s);

• recognizing a "higher power" that can restore sanity;

• examining past errors with the help of a sponsor (an experienced member);

• making amends for these errors;

• learning to live a new life with a new code of behavior; and

• helping others who suffer from the same problem(s).

In this blog I want to share some of the lessons I've learned in the program -- lessons that can be applied to all kinds of problems facing all sorts of people. I hope they will be helpful to someone who is struggling. They might even be helpful to someone who thinks that they have life all figured out. (Lucky you.) I know that, at a minimum, the act of sharing them will be helpful to me.

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