Drinking Deliberately

I recently heard a really important share at a 12-Step meeting. "We were drinking deliberately, instead of casually." Drinking deliberately. That calls to my mind many, many times when I poured myself a drink (or someone poured it for me) because I NEEDED that drink to unwind.

This is not a scenario where I'm having dinner with my husband or with friends, and we order a bottle of wine. This is different from having a drink before dinner because everyone else is doing the same -- while consuming cheese and crackers. That is drinking casually.

My drinking deliberately was drinking for a purpose. The purpose was to unwind. What was wound up -- my mind, my emotions, my body in knots? How did it get that way? Sure, drinking helped me unwind, but it didn't do a thing about the reasons I was wound up in the first place.

I remember coming home late from work, on a cold winter night. Almost as soon as I got in the door and took my coat off, my Blackberry rang. I had to answer it. The slate in our roof interfered with reception, so I went out on the front stoop. After I had been out there for a minute or two my husband came out, draped my coat over my shoulders, and handed me a scotch-on-the-rocks. I NEEDED that drink, and I drank it deliberately.

Thinking back, that was a precursor to my later days of drinking deliberately on a daily basis. Drinking to get rid of the hangover. Drinking to feel more sociable BEFORE the party. Drinking to ease the physical pain. Drinking to ease the mental and emotional pain of drinking too much.

Coffee with God

On Monday I promised that I would say more about this subject, so here I am again.

For a long time I've been searching for a way to energize my prayer life. Right after I retired, when I was doing a lot of walking early in the morning, I would use some of that time for conversations with God. However, when I stopped walking and started going to the gym with Brad instead, the praying stopped. (Prayer just doesn't come naturally while I'm on an exercise bike or a treadmill.)

I tried setting up a place for meditation and prayer in the guest bedroom. I hung a cross and planned to sit in my grandmother's rocking chair. But it just didn't happen.

Then, when I read a book about the Rule of St Benedict, I learned about lectio divina (holy reading). Something about this practice caught my attention, and wouldn't let go. So this is what I did about it.,

Every morning, after I shower and feed the cats, I make a cup of coffee. I take it into the conservatory and clear off anything that's on the round table. I light a candle and put it in the middle of the table. I get my journal and either a Bible or some other devotional literature. Then I sit down and begin to read.

Usually one or more words, phrases or sentences will "speak to me." They will directly relate to something that's going on in my life,my thoughts, or my emotions. For example, one morning I was troubled and anxious about something. I was reading the 23rd Psalm and the words "He restoreth my soul" caught me. I stopped reading and just thought about those words. A number of different images passed through my mind. After a little while I wrote the words "He restoreth my soul" in my journal and also wrote some of my thoughts, like "When something is restored, it's made good as new. God is always there to make me good as new. All I have to do is ask." After I finished writing, I shared my thoughts with God in a conversational prayer, and asked Him to restore my soul. Then I just sat still for a while, peacefully, no longer troubled or anxious, confident that God was there with me.

I've been following this practice faithfully every morning since sometime in January -- even while we were on vacation in Antigua or skiing in Colorado. It works for me because I do it before Brad wakes up, and before the rest of the day's needs and plans start crowding into my mind. I look forward to it every morning. And my friend Pat Dickson called it "coffee with God," so that's what it is.

Looking Back, Looking Forward

(I jotted down some notes on Saturday, but didn't have the time to sit down and blog until today. The preparation for, and celebration of Easter Sunday occupied both my thoughts and my hands.)

As part of my morning prayer and meditation (more about that in a future blog), I read a reflection about Holy Saturday that called it "a day between two monumental days. We rest as we look back to mourning, look forward to joy." As I sat with this for a while, I thought of many things about my own life.

• I look back to being an active alcoholic (now 19 months ago) and I look forward to continuing my now-sober life, which is so full of blessings that I can hardly believe it.

• I look back to working long days as an executive in the General Services Administration, in which I took great pride and satisfaction, and I look forward to a "retired" life that offers unlimited opportunities to be of service to others. (or work in the garden, or take a bike ride...)

• I look back to a spiritual life where I volunteered for and participated in lots of ministries, but was missing a real connection with God. I look forward to being connected through daily prayer, meditation and study, and participating in those ministries that are most important to me.

• I look back to having the almost boundless energy of youth, which enabled me to garden for eight hours or take a 20-mile bike ride or walk to Bethesda and back. I look forward to taking care of my body and my health, so that I can continue to do all of the things I love at a slower pace and for a shorter time. And I look forward to naps, preferably with Brad.

• I look back to thinking mostly (well, sometimes only) about myself -- what I wanted, what I needed. When I did things for others, I was often like the Pharisees: "Everything they do is just to show off in front of others." (Matthew 23:5) Now I look forward being of quiet service to others, being a caring friend who shares her own thoughts and fears instead of just listening, and recognizing that I'm just "one of the herd."

• I look back to always thinking ahead (yes, that sounds weird). What am I going to do next? What am I going to say next? How will I react to something that may or may not even happen? I look forward, gratefully, to living in the present moment as much as I possible can, because every moment of life is such a gift. Jesus said, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matthew 6:34)

Where have I been hiding? And Why?

It's hard to believe that it's been almost 3 months since I last posted anything. There have been plenty of times that I thought about writing. There have been things that I wanted to write about -- at the time. I could have made time for writing. I even put it on my TO DO list several times. But I never actually sat down to write anything until now. Why?

It's hard to put it into words, but I'll try. I didn't feel "together." I felt a little bit like parts of me were here, and parts of me were there, and I just couldn't pull it all together. I stayed sober -- that wasn't a problem. The problem was of another sort. I didn't know how to fix it. So I went into hiding from this blog because I couldn't find a way to speak about it.

Now, sort of suddenly, I'm together again. Things feel like their in place. I'm doing the things that are important to me, and saying no to (or shedding) the things that I no longer want or need. I sometimes have a day, or a part of a day, when I can choose to do whatever I want at that time. That feels wonderful!

And every morning, after I shower and feed the cats, I sit down at the round table surrounded by windows, light a candle, and have "coffee with God." Sometimes I listen to a reflection on video; sometimes I read from the Forward Day by Day booklet; sometimes I read from the Bible. And then I just sit and meditate about what I read or heard. And then I write my thoughts in my journal. And then I say the Seventh Step Prayer. And then I'm ready for the rest of the day.

Thank you, God, for helping me come together again, in time for Spring to arrive. I want to spend time in OUR garden.