The 1st Step

You can do it! Try again!

Most addicts agree--the first step is the most important one we do, because without it, we are destined to reinvestigate our powerlessness. I'm back in Arizona and very grateful to be here, but missing my friends in Missouri.

I have grave misgivings about keeping my blog since some anonymous twit is using it to try to hurt people I care for. So I'm not sure how much longer I'll be blogging, but in the meantime, I am doing well and am glad to hear from those of you who have long supported my blog.

Until I blog again, take that first step seriously. It's a big one!

Happy birthday to me

I once again have power and am trying to cram for a final that was postponed from Monday night. The ice is melting, I am trying to pack and also trying to celebrate my 23rd clean date. It's all good and I am so grateful for staying clean all these years when so many, who may work better programs than me, do not.

Until I blog again, take it one day at a time.

Waiting for the ice storm

In a few hours, the year's first ice storm will be here in Missouri. It doesn't sound like it will be too bad, but a day or so in the house won't kill me. I've almost finished my finals, 3 research papers and am so glad to be through with the semester. Of course, moving means I'll probably have to transfer to another school, but right now I'm not worrying about that. It will all fall into place.

There's a process I go through when I'm moving from one place to another and perhaps the ice storm comes at a good time. Wherever I've lived in my life and especially in recovery, I've made many friends. But it's always hard to leave one place for another, even if, as in this case, I'm truly going home. As I listen to my friends and in this case my significant other (at least he's significant to me) talk about my leaving, I find I have to allow them to have their feelings and honor their sadness but suppress my own. There is simply no way right now I can process it.

It's not that I don't feel sad to be leaving, but I also feel like it's time, so that makes it easier. The hours I spent packing and sorting and donating give me ample time to process my feelings. This is what I have to do for my own serenity, this taking a job thing. And that means going to Arizona.

As we look back on how we've handled things, we can always, as my dad used to say, play "Monday morning quarterback." In retrospect, there were things I should have seen that I perhaps did glimpse but thought, "Oh, it will be different than that," or "We can work through that." Relationships are hard, there's no other way to say it. I wish I had done some things better, that's for sure.

I have a few hours before the ice storm starts, so I'd better head out to the store to buy food. Lately I haven't been cooking. Until I blog again, may your heart be light and your recovery easy.

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Arizona here I come

With some mixed feelings, of course, I am heading back to Arizona. I was offered a job that will allow me to keep doing some of my other work and with great benefits. I'm just tired of the struggle of health insurance hassles and this just fell into my lap, practically. So, about the 20th I'm heading out.

I haven't had time to blog with finals and packing, but hopefully once I get there, I'll have more to talk about. I'm looking forward to see Ms. Barbara and all my old NA friends, who are excited about my return, or so they say.

Two dogs are getting anxious. They seem to know something's up. Maybe it's all the moving boxes? Until later, take care. It's all good.

Romy eats the hammock

Well, it was fun while it lasted, but Romy seemed to delight in eating the corner of the hammock, so she had to lie on a quilt. Luckily, she survived. She is a canine disaster, but what can you do?

I had a great time in Phoenix, a job offer and a few decisions to make. More later.

Haven't blogged in awhile

I guess life happens, because I've noticed I'm not the only blogger not blogging. I'm heading to Phoenix tomorrow for five days. God has put a career option in my path and I'm exploring it. I'm not sure what I'm going to do; I'll know if and when an offer is made. Do the next right thing; that's my motto.

One of my sponslings with just over 90 days clean had a terrible loss--her father was hit by a car, brain damaged and removed from life support. She not only stayed clean through this terrible event, she grew closer to her mother, experienced tremendous gratitude over the fact that she was clean before he died, and in short, has just blossomed. God is great, isn't he? The Fellowship of NA was there right beside her the entire time with cards, phone calls, at the funeral, walking her through it. It surely made my love of the Fellowship grow even more, if that's possible.

The woman I have blogged about several times with whom I had a great deal of conflict but who helped me tremendously when I was ill died of bone cancer Friday. She had a short but such brave path to death, it was truly inspiring. One of the women she sponsored was having a meltdown over her death with her and she stopped her in her tracks by saying, "I'm spiritually fit." That's the real acid test, isn't it?

We had several great talks together before she died, so I am at peace with it. Early in recovery my friend Jeff T. said his rule of thumb in relationships is that if it's standing between me and the other person, then I have to talk with them about it. I've learned that if I want to try to preserve a friendship, that's the only way to go, as uncomfortable as it may be. I'm just glad I was at peace with our friendship when she passed.

I'm heading out to one of my recovery sister's 50th birthday party. Then it's off to drop two dogs at the boarding place. I hate that. I bought Romy a bone shaped Coleman hammock. She thinks she's going camping. Woo HOO!

Until I blog again, take care and stay clean. It's easier that way.

In Chicago

I'm here for a conference, but I've hit several NA meetings and it's been fun. This is such a great city to get around in, trains, buses, taxis.

The meetings here are pretty big, but also friendly. I've enjoyed myself, but I'm heading home tonight and I'll be glad to get there.

Dinner tonight?

A good friend of mine (I used to sponsor her) had a baby last week, as I mentioned on my blog. I was watching a show half heartedly yesterday as I worked, which was on post-partum depression. I didn't realize how severe this can be.

Many of us, from years of fiddling around with our brains, have damaged our mood patterns, at least that is my opinion. So it wouldn't surprise me that with all the hormones of pregnancy then childbirth and its stressors (she's breastfeeding so she's up every two hours), that my friend would be a bit freaked out. Another thing, her mother lives in another country and she isn't in touch with her, so she doesn't really have a nuclear family to help.

So my friend Lisa and I are taking over dinner for the family tonight. It's an easy dinner: chili, my world famous (the dogs think so, anyway) zucchini bread , and a salad. My friend Lisa is making cornbread so we'll have fun seeing the baby, eating, and having a few laughs.

I am also making time to call her every few days just to check on her: not so much to be a bother, but enough to let her know we care.

Until I blog again, I just wanted to share how good it feels today to think of someone beside me! I may not be much, but I'm all I usually think about!

My best thinking got me here

A blog post today got me thinking, which is not always a good thing. This post had a quote from poet Charles Baudelaire, "a vice is natural, while virtue is artificial because it calls for us to restrain our natural instinct ..."

I was watching Dexter the other night, the sociopathic serial murderer (is that redundant?) who believes he was born evil. His father, when Dexter was young, told him to "Think of your immediate reaction, then say the opposite" when Dexter was trying to pass a psychological profile test. Doing this, he passed.

I've been clean awhile, but I find that sometimes my immediate thinking is just wrong. If I acted on it, I'd have been in big trouble long ago. You'd think after years in recovery, that "wrong" thinking would go away.

Case in point. I had about ten years clean and I was at an ATM behind a person who used the ATM then left his card. I walked up, took the card, then didn't know what to do. The person with me looked at me like I was crazy, took the card from my hand, and yelled after the man, "Hey, you forgot your card." My mind was wondering what to do, what was the right thing to do, I mean, take the card and use it or...?

I'll admit, today I would know what to do, but I still have to think sometimes. In many cases, my thinking is just flat wrong.

A woman flamed me professionally the other day on a list I belong to because I said something that was incorrect. My first instinct was to flame her back. Instead, I did two things. First, I wrote her a pretty decent letter telling her I felt impelled to write because she embarrassed me in front of my professional peers and it hurt my feelings. (I won't mail it.) Then, I found her phone number via her email address and called her and asked her to call me.

People often behave ignorantly, and most of the time it's best to let it slide. But in this case, I really felt like I had to tell her how I felt. It was about how I felt, not about her behavior, if you get the difference.

She emailed me immediately and apologized, saying she was having a bad day and just after she pressed the send button she regretted it. This kept me from stewing about the situation.

I am not yet well, but I'm a darn site better than I was. Progress is a beautiful thing. It's a great fall day and I'm heading out. Until then, be safe. And don't flame people.

NA members please complete membership survey

For anyone who is interested and has not taken the time to do the survey, the link is below.

NA members last completed an anonymous survey in 2003 at the world convention in San Diego , CA . We would like to update the information to more accurately reflect our membership today. The information we gather from the survey helps professionals see NA in a more realistic manner and helps to dispel old myths about our membership. It is our desire to have professionals who refer addicts to NA along with family members and the general public to view Narcotics Anonymous as a viable, credible program of choice for recovery.

We hope to capture a better picture of our global membership by posting the survey online not just distributing it to those who attend a world convention. We want to encourage you and your friends to complete this anonymous survey. You can help us to more accurately reflect the demographics of the worldwide fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous. This survey will be online until 31 October 2007 at http://naws.org/surveys/index.php?sid=1 . We thank you for your efforts in completing the survey as well as informing other members to complete it. And, remember, please complete only one survey.

Thank you for allowing us to serve.
NA World Services

Beautiful day on the Osage River

We took off today in my boyfriend's bass boat and drove up the Osage River into the Missouri then into Loose Creek. In Loose Creek, hoards of flying carp crashed into the boat, scaring me out of my seat and into the floor of the boat. I didn't know fish could fly.

These pics show some of the leaves changing and the bottom picture is a beaver dam. We also saw two herons and a bald eagle.

Then I hit my home group so my day was complete.

Things change quickly

When things change, they tend to change quickly, it always seems to me. From the time I was little, I hated change. I realized in my early high school years that my best friend at the time, with whom I could share every detail of my oh so dramatic (I thought) life, was not always going to be my best friend. And I didn't like it.

"But you'll have a new best friend," she pointed out to me when I raised this dilemma with her.

"But I want you!" I wailed mournfully, coming down from a day-long, ditch-school and trip- through-Phoenix acid extravaganza. Of course, I soon left home and have had several best friends since then. And I lived through the changes.

When life changes today, I am now realizing that God is offering me a handpicked opportunity for growth. I may not like it much, because I am a person most comfortable rooted in my past, even if that past is painful. So I try to focus on the future and its possibilities.

Until I blog again, I hope you have a great day.

The sponsorship tree, or high school revisited

I am going to vent and share my experience, strength and hope (and my opinion) with something I see going on in my area as well as what I've seen in a few other areas. That is the NA cliches.
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In the year between eighth grade and high school I started using to fit in somewhere. When I came to NA, I quickly found a group of people who loved me and put up with my two years of the revolving door syndrome; but there were plenty of people who shunned me, I mean flat out even were rude to me, laughed at me with others, and in short thought I was a flake. Most of them aren't clean today. They were the movers and shakers in the area and at region. I clearly remember when I worked at the World Service Office and some of these regional representatives came over for Conference, they excluded me from their lunches and dinners, and boy, that felt like crap.

It's true, we don't have to like everyone we meet in the rooms or make the decision to hang out with them. But we should extend an atmosphere of love and tolerance and at least feign interest in newcomers when they are at meetings, in my opinion.

Last weekend our area, which is actually three cities about 60 miles apart and the area in between, held a picnic in the largest city, halfway between my city and the city 60 miles away. I grabbed a newcomer who was going through a rough time and was driving everyone crazy and drove up for the picnic.

I'd never been to this park, and when I got there, it was huge. We drove through the park for half an hour and never did find the meeting. No one had bothered to put up a sign, in my way of thinking because this particular portion of NA is so proud of its cliquishness it just overlooked that anyone who wasn't part of the 'in crowd' wouldn't recognize the vehicles. Not such a great message to show the newcomer.

But wait, there's more. There is much talk in this bigger town of "sponsorship trees." I hear often, usually from newcomers, "Oh, she's in my sponsorship tree," or "He's my grand sponsor."

Today one of the big NA cliches is having a BBQ for everyone in several "sponsorship trees," which means that much of the area, especially newcomers, are excluded. Now I don't know how to fix that or if we need to fix that, but I do think this: This was not the intent of sponsorship.

So I've had my vent for the day and look forward to your input. I preach the gospel of "Who put you in charge of that," so I don't talk about this except in my blog and with my sponsor, who would never condone this type of activity. I think it's high school thinking to exclude people from gatherings because they aren't "a branch in your tree." What do you think?

I've got to be ME!

Meet Schatz; she's Oz' half sister on their sire's side, Bastin. Isn't she a ham? To visit her mom, a fellow recovery blogger, click here!

I met Schatz' mom when she googled Schatz' sire's name, and she found me. She's in recovery, too. Shatz is with her in Illinois.

Ms. Romy gets ready for fall

Depression in recovery

NA is going through a big redefining, it seems, of the use of medications, including methadone, in recovery. There was a great meeting at World Convention on this topic, which has generated another outpouring of discussion. I think eventually we'll reach some sort of consensus; however, I try to stay out of the fray. I have strong opinions, but they are just that, my opinions which have arisen out of 1) my personal biases and 2) the flaming failures I've seen over the years of those who choose to take medications in recovery without proper oversight.

Last night a young gal approached me at a meeting because she's having trouble with her medications for anxiety and sleeplessness. I am not a psychiatrist; I'm not qualified to counsel her regarding what to do about anxiety and which drugs are okay to use within our confines. I simply referred her to a woman who is a local resource who will help her find a psychiatrist that is familiar with the addiction model.

Early in my recovery, I watched a gal who had psychosis stop taking all her medications, allegedly at her sponsor's request. She soon starting coming to meetings wearing a gun belt and carrying a racket ball racket in her purse, with the back window missing from her car. Then she called a friend of mine in a panic and said the Secret Service were watching her. He went over to visit her to try to calm her down only to be confronted in her front yard by--the Secret Service. Apparently she had written the President at the time a few bizarre letters.

This was a powerful lesson to me. As much as I know which drugs I can take with impunity (and there aren't many) and which ones I can't, it's not my job to give advice to a newcomer about medication. I can only hope she gets a good psychiatrist who can guide her in her choice of medications.

There are people who I watch struggle, I mean struggle, with depression in recovery. I really feel for them, because in some cases, you can work The Steps until you drop, but the depression is obviously a chemical imbalance from years of torquing our own chemistry or a hereditary problem. I dislike the black and white thinking I sometimes hear that "I just work The Steps and if you did, you wouldn't be depressed." I usually approach these people after the meeting and ask where they were credentialed.

Our literature is clear. There are times in recovery, and this includes for some of us our entire lives, that we must take medication. That decision is one best made with a doctor and a very savvy sponsor.

Another good meeting

I'm in St. Louis because I have to attend a business meeting tomorrow. I brought Oz with me and hit a meeting near my hotel. It was a Traditions meeting, Tradition Nine was the topic. I enjoyed it. I always enjoy attending meetings out of town because I can usually put principles before personalities. I'm entering a meeting and don't know anyone, so I have no preconceived notions.

One man was celebrating his 18th birthday and started the meeting for apologizing for his outburst the previous week. Where else can you go where you've behaved like a jerk and walk in the next time and no one says "Hey, are you going to behave tonight?"

It's a great thing that there are no rules in our Fellowship and no requirement for membership other than a desire to stop using substances. I was always a rebel and if anyone told me that I had to sit a certain place or behave a certain way, I probably wouldn't have gone back.

I'm grateful today I stuck around long enough to experience the miracle.

Help me, I'm melting!

I melt down often. Well, not often, but at least about once a quarter. I never know exactly what triggers it. It might be something small that breaks the camel's proverbial back. I can give you some meltdown examples from the past few years.

1. I couldn't get an issue resolved with the cable company. Although I had transferred my service to someone else's name, I kept getting the bill and so did they. It was affecting my phone service since it was a global billing (note to self--never buy into global billing again!). I spent hours on the phone and more hours trying to get it resolved until I was literally screaming at the customer service person. The result? They transferred me to someone who could help, in the process, they cut me off. Think that was a coincidence? Once I calmed down, I called the public utilities commission who told me what number to call for the head honchos and it appears there is a solution in sight.


2. I had been looking for a job with no results for about six months. I had a job interview that sounded like it might be a fit. When I got there, four different men spent about an hour talking to me for what turned out to be a clerical position. One was very condescending. I left there feeling so humiliated I could barely stand it. I talked to someone about it and I felt better.


3. I completed a project for a client that I thought was what she wanted. I spent about two full days working on it. It wasn't what she wanted at all. It was my fault, after all, because I hadn't outlined the project before beginning. I assumed she still wanted what she thought she wanted originally although several weeks had passed. I waited a day or so before contacting her and worked through my feelings, mostly disappointment. But boy, in the meantime, I was a mess. I simply kept on keeping on and worked through it. I didn't listen to any voice telling me I would never be successful as a writer.
   

I get overwhelmed from time to time; I think we all do. Sometimes when it seems like it's all crap I have to think about how I'm framing things. For example, a gal who is in charge of our newsletter e-mailed me in a panic asking me to do an article on Tradition Three. She said that the person who was going to do the article didn't. It took me about two hours and I e-mailed it to her.

The next night I saw her at a meeting and she was complaining how sick she was of service. She said "No one" ever helps her. I pointed out to her that I had helped her. I wasn't no one. Using terms like that, my friends, is catastrophizing.

I do it too. When I get mad, I frequently say "You ALWAYS do that!" or "You never do this," using those black or white terms. That's usually far from the truth. If we really examine those statements, most of the time things like that irritate us happen, but we tend to get overly emotional and use terms like "never," "always," "continuously," "every time," etc.

When I call my sponsor in a snit, she always tells me firmly, "Lose the drama." She's right, of course, although it often hurts my feelings. When I'm in the middle of a drama that revolves around me, I can't think correctly; I'm swinging from the emotional vine yelling "Tarzan." (Actually, that's me, Jane, on the far right, looking bewildered.)

Melting down is part of the life of an emotionally labile person like me. It took me many years of recovery before I saw that trait because no one ever pointed it out. Or if they did, I wasn't ready to hear it. I just swung hysterically through jobs, leaving because my boss "didn't appreciate me" or pay me well enough, rather than practice patience and try to avoid seeing everything as an attack upon me as a female. (Although in some cases it was, but that's another story.)

I have grown in the past decades of recovery, but it has been a slow, painful process. I'm glad I now have a sponsor who isn't afraid of hurting my feelings to get my attention. My meltdowns are now fewer, less dramatic and shorter. That, dear readers, is growth.

Get in the middle of the pack

When I first came around the rooms, I heard this expression often. I had been a loner, an isolator, a rebel without a cause for so many years, I didn't think that expression applied to me. I was terminally unique, as many of us that come in and out of the rooms feel we are. I was sure that no one had ever been through what I'd been through or used drugs the way that I had.

Today I can safely say I've been around well over two decades and I'm still in the middle of the pack. I go to at least three or four meetings a week, I am of service in my home group and of some help in general service to the Fellowship, speaking at H&I meetings when I can and sponsoring a few wonderful women.

The other night at my home group I was swilling down a wonderful cup of coffee, looking at faces of people I have grown to love and feeling very lucky to be part of this wonderful Fellowship. Because I "suit up and show up," share my experience, I hope, in a non-judgmental way, I can be of maximum service to my fellow addicts and to society as a whole.

This person is a far cry from that shattered gal who vibrated into meetings for the first time almost 25 years ago. Today there is such abundance in my life--friends; relationships with siblings that grow stronger every year; 2 dogs, of course; and a strong presence in my life of a partner with whom I'm struggling, on a daily basis, to connect with.
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We often fail forward, don't we? When we stumble in recovery, we don't fall back, we really fall a few steps forward. When I stay in the middle of the pack, it's easier to sort out the next right action I have to take to get back on the path to recovery.

Until next time, stay in the middle of the pack. You'll find with winter soon coming, it's much warmer and safer there.

The Gratitude Dance

Seeing God in nature

say

Sometimes when I'm blue, I spend some time in nature to remember that I'm not the center of the universe. I've been working a 4th Step for quite awhile, waiting to meet my sponsor face-to-face to do my 5th. I thought I was finished, but alas, a new character defect has come to my attention quite suddenly. That character defect--inflexibility.

I loved my mother more than anyone on earth, I think, God bless her soul. But she was a trifle inflexible and I always found that trait extremely frustrating and saw the problems it caused in her marriage of 50 plus years to my father. I always swore I wouldn't be inflexible. But often when we say "I'll never be like her or him," we throw the baby out with the bathwater, and reject that person's good characteristics as well. I certainly didn't inherit my mother's wonderful trait of loving kindness; I've had to work on that trait.

I was a free spirit. I always was the little hippie dippy gal, running around the U.S. in braids and a knitted cap, living here and there, hitchhiking, on a whim, to wherever I felt I needed to be. I was not, I was sure, an inflexible person.

Okay, so I know when it comes to 2dogs, I am inflexible. That I will readily admit. I didn't realize, though, that I'm inflexible in some many other ways, nor did I realize the effects that inflexibility has on others in my life.

Last night I talked about this trait at a meeting. There was a woman visiting from a large city at the meeting who proceeded to give me all sorts of advice about what I should do (crosstalk, as I define it). I know when we travel out of our own element we sometimes think we can go to small towns and "set people right" with our superior experience, strength and hope. Frankly, it just annoyed me. But I digress.

I know what actions to take. This ain't my first rodeo. It's more in depth inventory and a call to my sponsor.

I wrote a letter of amends to a person who has been hurt by my inflexibility but didn't mail it because frankly, it digressed into a bit of an angry overtone, which is not what amends are about. Amends are "I was wrong; I'm sorry," not a "I did this but you did that, so you are wrong here, too."

So until I post again, have a great day. Fall is in the air in Missouri and frankly, I'm looking forward to it.

If you're not hearing what you need to in meetings

Maybe you're not listening hard enough. This beautiful pic was taken by Barb, our fellow blogger. Isn't that great?

I find that when I don't hear what I need in meetings, it's sometimes because I'm so busy judging the content of the character of the speaker who is sharing. It is so hard to suspend judgment sometimes, isn't it?

But it's terribly important that we put principles before personalities, especially in smaller towns where the same people hit the same meetings again and again. I am blessed to have a lot of clean time and I find that people watch how I act and what I say. If I portray even the slightest negativity toward another NA member, they are quick to pick up on it and add their two cents. So I work at keeping my facial expressions neutral (which is hard for me) and my comments kind.

Last night I walked into a store behind one of our Fellowship's younger members. His pants were bagging and I immediately began to take his inventory. Then I remembered: This young man spent most of his formative years in correctional facilities. He's working hard, he has a young son he loves to death, and he's trying to clean up his language in meetings. Who am I to judge him? I didn't have the same upbringing; I'm not a single parent; my language is far from perfect. Thank God I am learning tolerance and mercy in Narcotics Anonymous.

There's another young couple in NA who have a few months clean but have been in and out for years. They are so busy taking everyone else's inventory regarding how they work their programs, I can't imagine how they find time to take their own. They both have sponsors and hopefully at some point their sponsors will point this out. Until then, I don't have to participate; I can walk away or gently remind them to "take their own inventories."

It's a daily walk toward becoming a better human being, isn't it?

Don't pick up that lip balm!

It could be addicting!

This must be what serenity means

I was driving along yesterday feeling very content, thinking that my life is almost perfect. I can't think of one thing to complain about, at least not for the past few days. If my parents were still alive, my life would be absolutely perfect. That's the only thing I can say I feel the slightest regret about.

I think this feeling is serenity! Or joy. Or some other by-product of right living. And as for my parents, I am just grateful that I had them for all the years I did.

Life, today, is good. When there is a problem, it's a much higher quality of problem than I had in my using days. So until tomorrow, I'm going to relish this feeling.

Day Three

I'm home now, but had a great time and no time to blog further while there. Every minute was something new to do, a meeting to go to, a walk along the San Antonio Riverwalk, or a new restaurant to check out. As I get older, I find myself more distanced from NA, at least here in Missouri where most of the newcomers are crack or meth addicts and much, much younger (the courts drag them in young these days!).

I'm always a little concerned about how addicts in large groups will behave, recalling how badly I did in early recovery. I remember once at a regional convention in Denver we were in a hotel that was shaped like a pyramid, with staggered balconies. I talked a friend of mine, Mike, into lobbying an M-80 off my balcony onto another balcony above of a friend from Arizona, Michael U, to wake him up because he had an early flight to catch.

Unbeknownst to us, his door was open and the M80 hit the end of his bed and about scared him into a heart attack. We were laughing uproariously when my phone rang in my room. "God loves you, Nancy," Mike said, furiously, "I'm trying to."

But World is the top of the food chain addicts, generally speaking, because it costs a bit to get there and register and stay in the pricey hotels. The behavior, I'm saying without trying to sound like a snob, was awesome. Everywhere we went in San Antonio in the downtown, there were addicts with their name tags and smiles and hugs. There was so much love in the air, it was infectious. The people of San Antonio, the drivers who shuttled us, the convention center employees who served us volumes of coffee and snackies, everyone was awesome and friendly.

If you've never been to a World Convention, save $10 a week because in 2009, it's going to Barcelona, Spain. I hope to see you there. And a shout out to WSO employees and the members who made this possible--You did an awesome job! We thank you!

NA World Convention, Day 2

It is 12:36 a.m. San Antonio time and I want a candy bar. There is not one vending machine in this hotel. My personal opinion is that WSO should not patronize hotels without vending machines. What is a self-respecting addict to do who needs an M&M fix at almost 1 a.m. and can't get one without getting dressed and walking three long dark blocks to do? This is just not right.

Tonight I hit the marathon meetings, which were, well, dramatic to say the least. Although our Fellowship is at last count (2006) 45 percent female, it's mainly the men that talk in many meetings. I usually get my two cents worth in to tell women they can't save their a-- and their face at the same time, and that it's their meeting too, but we had a bunch of preachers at the meetings who thought they were attending On and On Anon instead of NA and well, that's how the marathon meetings are going at this point. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

However, I digress. I went to a few workshops today; one on public information and carrying the message to the medical community, which was great. There is a new small folder available we can use in PI for the professional community, parole officers, doctors, etc., that allows us to spread the real message of NA. You know, not the "There's no clean time there," and we're all "low bottom. Did you know that only 3 percent of addicts in the US are on the street drug users (a statistic one doctor-addict gave today), the rest get dressed and go to work each day. Maybe that's where we need to carry the message?

The membership survey that the Fellowship put out and is part of this packet shows another statistic: 40 percent of NA members who responded to the survey attend other Fellowships. That that, NA "purists," with your t-shirts and hats and bad attitudes.

Meg is ready to go to sleep, so this rant must end soon. I am having fun, seeing some old friends and making a new one or two. Tomorrow, if I remember, I'll tell you about the other workshop I went to: "Who's left out of our meetings." Here's the tease: It broke down to age and culture. Until tomorrow, don't get loaded. There is a whole life out there to look forward to, I promise.

Another airport

A nice pic of the mighty Colorado river.

Waiting in the Las Vegas airport for my flight to San Antonio and the NA World Convention. Meg is meeting me at the airport. We are going to have a blast, no doubt about it.


I spent the past two days with my family, a cousin, nieces and nephew, and two of my three brothers. We really had fun. Las Vegas is not my cup of tea; however, it was worth it to spend time with my great family.



More from World!

Just in case you don't have enough addictions ...

A new study finds that, yikes, over half of those who tan are "addicted" to tanning. Without sun exposure, they experience withdrawals symptoms. Geez, what will they think of next? I can see thousands of tanners coming together to form Tanners Anonymous, or "TA."

I wonder if these scientists actually funding to do this research? Some nerds clearly have too much time on their hands.

Well, I'd give you the morning women's meeting update, but not much happened. However, one of my sponslings who has become a dear friend celebrated her 7th birthday today. That was really heartwarming. She's one of those positive people that always sees your glass as half full, even when you think it's half empty and has a leak in it. Don't you just hate that? When all you want to do is say "Waah" and have the whole world pat you on your back and commiserate, and some bright thing says "Yes, but ...."

Until tomorrow, have a great day. And, stay out of the sun! Who needs another 12 Step meeting to fit into our schedules?

Worth a look

Check out this man's art, if you haven't already.

Love is the killer app

Check out this cutey. I wonder if he'll turn out to be a snarly chihuahua or a nice one? How do you vote? I've been meditating on staying in my heart and then, wham, someone sends me this e-mail. Think it's a coincidence?

A few nights ago I went to the prison here and spoke with a group of convicts, many of whom were doing life, who are running a meeting twice a week. Only one or two people in the Program support the meeting; for the most part, they are on their own, which to me is pretty sad and doesn't speak well for the Fellowship here, but I digress.

Despite some of them facing many more years behind bars, they seemed to have a lot of serenity. One of the things they're doing is learning, with the help of their meeting sponsor, to garden. They've gradually acquired about a football field size plot to grow vegetables, strawberries, and other crops.


The inmates don't consume the bulk of the food--they give it away to needy community members. They spoke with pride about feeding 23 families last year with their produce. I don't think they learned that in prison, I think they learned that through their work in the Fellowship.

When I first got into recovery, I was one tough cookie. It wasn't until I had about three years clean that I decided I'd better work on becoming more loving. I started to try to find ways to break down the walls around my heart. I did some body work, but I think the most effective thing I did was to visualize my heart as bricked in by bricks with crumbling mortar. I actually visualized the walls crumbling, the bricks falling out.

I don't think it helped immediately to a great degree, but I think over the years, my heart has become much more open. Today, I see that open heart as a blessing. There was a great article in Fast Company magazine about five years ago called "Love is the Killer App." I have always remembered this saying and I believe it's true.

For those of you worrying about Meg, I received an e-mail from her this morning. She has a newcomer on her couch and a spring in her step, because one week from today, we'll be meeting in San Antonio for NA World. I can't wait.

Until I see you again, remember, love is the killer app!

I'm still alive

I've been off my blog lately; just don't have the time or the ambition at this point. I had a great talk with Barbara today; she's doing well and reminds me that, even in adverse conditions, we can walk forward with faith.

I'm trying to finalize a few projects and get out of Dodge; heading for Las Vegas to see my niece turn 21. My brothers, two nieces, my cousin and I will all have a fine time, I'm sure. I'd rather choke on a bone than go to Vegas, but to see my family, well, it's worth it.

With the death of my parents, I felt like the last people who "got me" are gone. But then, I have my brothers, and I'm so grateful that at least they still "get" me. Last night my significant other reminded me, once again, of how selfish he perceives me. What can I say? He's probably right. I do have a pattern of picking people who find me lacking. This is about me, not them, so I'm determined to release others to their Higher good, and live my life authentically. I can only be who I am, no one else.

I'm looking forward, after Vegas, of meeting Meg in Houston, and a few other bloggers, I've heard, are going. That will be great. It's the gift of the Fellowship that's allowed me to plan to go to World a year ago and be able to follow through on that plan.

Life is short, so I've decided to be happy. I hope you are, too.

She's flipped her wig!

There was a women on Today this morning who designs wigs for dogs. She even has a Trump comb over. So, if your dog is getting a little thin on top, you know there's help available.

Today was not a good day

Number one, I forgot my brother's birthday, although I've had a card laid out for him for a month. Then, and this if funny, I decided to listen to "The Secret," which I got on Amazon on CD. I put it in and sat down to listen. My mind was drifting all over the place when suddenly, as I was listening to this tape about the power of positive thinking, I thought, "What if it's scratched and I have to send it back to Amazon? I don't know where the receipt is." A few minutes later, sure enough, it started skipping. I'm not sure that was a coincidence, since the gist of the tape is that anything you can imagine good or bad will come to you attached to a big vat of glue and paste itself into your life. Or something like that.

Anyway, I've been alternately angry and sad today. I heard someone ask another member the other day when they were explaining how pissed off they were about something, "So what would you be mad about if that hadn't happened?" That struck a bullseye with me.

I've been working really hard at changing my negative thought patterns, reading Catherine Ponder and a few other teachers. It's a full time job for me, taming this mind which runs like a hamster on a wheel.

I shared at a meeting tonight about how I felt today; that things in my life were so messed up it would be better if I just gave up and used. Their eyes went really wide, but that's the insanity of our addiction and if we don't write or talk about, well, you all know, we're only as sick as our secrets.

I have few words of wisdom because I am such a fundamentally flawed human being. I realize that this blog is a big joke as I feel my life is, sometimes. But it's a cosmic joke and I have no choice but to keep slogging. Besides, I want to find out what happens at the end.

Until soon, take care and be sure and share at meetings all your insane thoughts so that newcomers' eyes will bug out like meerkats. We need to give them our experience, strength and hope.

PS Meg: Romy is allowed near the refrigerator only if I'm in attendance. Two more weeks!

My path in life

Come in through the night
It is the only way around.

Okay, kids, it seems I'm going to have to explain my poem, which means the poem doesn't work. It isn't ominous, it's just an affirmation that we often walk through darkness to reach the light, the peace, the serenity. There is no other way to find it. We have to walk through fire, through feelings, through whatever our Higher Power puts in our paths, to find the grace.

I have had many dark nights, years of dark nights, in fact, but today, due to God's grace and the Fellowship, I have seen the light and it is good.

Pillow fight

It's so hot here the dogs have resorted to playing in the house. This pillow made a great item to fight over. Luckily, no one was hurt in the filming of this episode, including me.

Avoiding opinions

Last night my home group turned into a very uncomfortable meeting. When the chair asked for topics, one of our newcomers, who incidentally has been in and out for years and now has about three or four months, wanted to talk about how he thought it was best for people only to go to NA and not introduce themselves as "clean and sober." Of course, as we started going around the table, the meeting degenerated into an "opinion" meeting.

There were two newcomers there and I should have, when it came my turn to share, nipped the debate in the bud. I know better. Our Fellowship's meetings are not to share opinions, but to share our experience, strength and hope to describe how we managed to stay clean. Or, if we do have a strong opinion, to clarify it's just that, a personal opinion.

By the time I left the meeting, I felt pretty sick. The meeting was one opinion after another and most of the members had been there under a year so have very little perspective on what it really takes to trudge along year after year, through life on life's terms, and stay clean.

I believe meeting time should be used to share how we got clean, not our opinion about how meetings should be run or to promote our personal agenda. I celebrate and respect our Traditions, but it is absolutely none of my business where other people go, how they work their Steps, if their sponsor is in another Fellowship, or how they introduce themselves. I can chat with them after the meeting if I want to give input, but other than that, I need to work my own program, not everyone else's program.

After the meeting, I talked to my home group members to discuss my concerns. If I'm in another meeting where this happens, it's my responsibility as a member with time in the Fellowship who has watched many, many Program die-hards relapse with their tight-ass beliefs, to remind people that opinions are just that--opinions. And everyone has one.

Dallas is styling in her Doggles

This is my beautiful Belgian malinois, Dallas, who was my best friend for many years until she passed away. She was an old soul, the wisest dog I have ever known. I miss her every day.

Just when I start thinking I'm the center of the universe

I look at these pictures from NASA.

Almost done

My project is winding down and I am getting ready to take a day off. I've been working pretty much non-stop and haven't had time to do much writing. Hope you are all well. This week I promise to have a good picture for Thursday!

Until then, have a great day.

Isn't this a great picture?

I am still alive

I have been so busy that I haven't had time to think, let alone blog. It's all good. My summer grad class ended yesterday. We spent six weeks studying organizations and the last two studying anarchist groups. It was really fun. I think I'm a bit of an anarchist. I used to be a registered independent until I became active in NOW and Now members talked me into becoming a Democrat so that I "had a voice."

I remember the night Bill Clinton was elected. My mother and I sat and watched the election returns, both in our respective armchairs. She was very liberal, but I believe my father's pressure kept her from voting for any Democrats, but I digress. As we saw that Clinton was going to win and in fact they announced, I was ecstatic. I told my mother that for the first time in my life, I felt like I was represented. She turned to me and said, "I'm sure you do." I could see on her face that she really did understand how I felt. I'm not so sure I'd feel that way now despite which Dem was elected.

If anyone watched the YouTube debate the other night, lacking was any discussion of America's abysmal health care policies. Of course, young people, most of the questioners, probably feel as I felt at 21, invincible. I never believed I would get sick. But health care is a burning issue in this country and I don't see any politicians addressing it in any meaningful way.

Back to anarchists. We really enjoyed watching a film called "Anarchists in America," which interviewed anarchists, many of them bright and vibrant and obviously in their 80s, talk about what led them to their beliefs. Many, of course, came out of Eastern Europe and Spain and suffered discrimination and segregation when they arrived in the United States. Of course, their children who have become assimilated in the great American "melting pot" are not anarchists because their experiences were not their parents. Most of the anarchists' children are middle and upper middle class, it appeared from the interviews. Not surprising.

So I decided as I studied for the final to Google anarchy in the Midwest. I hit a website that was removed at one point from Wikipedia and I received a flag "Your i.p. address has been recorded." So now, I guess I'm officially an anarchist, or at least my computer is.

Wouldn't it be disappointing if we ordered our FBI files and found we didn't have one? I asked in class. My teacher and I are of the same generation, but the students in the class, since this was grad and undergrad, were pretty young and naive. We spent a bit of time trying to explain the late 60s and early 70s to them. To borrow a phrase, "You had to be there."

I was reminiscing yesterday about living in Berkeley a few blocks off Telegraph Avenue in the early 70s. It was the end of the People's Park demonstrations and several times I was maced or chased and once shot with a rubber bullet as I tried to make it to my high school a few miles away. The 70s were definitely strange days.

I remember the Berkeley cops with Afros so big I don't know how they kept their hats on. One night I came around the corner with a friend to knock on the door of another friend and the cops had kicked it in and were searching the apartment. My friend had four joints in the pocket of his denim shirt. The cops looked up from the living room and rushed toward us and brought us in. The cop apparently in charge looked at his pocket and took the joints out. "You don't want these, do you?" the cop asked.

"No, you can have them," my friend assured him. That was the 70s. Today you'd probably go to prison for four joints.

One of the women interviewed in the film was at least 80 and she was very articulate and sweet. The interviewer asked her to describe her role. She said that she stayed under the limelight stirring up trouble here and there. "So you were an agitator?" the interviewer asked.

"Well, we all tried to do our best," she responded primly.

I wonder if we as Americans are doing our best. I know I'm not; I'm so politically inactive it isn't funny. I send my donations to Amnesty International and to the World Wildlife Fund and once and again attend a Democratic women's caucus, but increasingly I feel like, as one of the anarchists said on the film, if I don't do something, I'll go completely crazy.

These are my ramblings for today. I love taking pleasant trips down memory lane. I know as I related some of my stories to the kids in class this semester, they must have thought, "She's full of it." I have lived many lives in this lifetime. I thank God daily that I survived.

Yikes

I've been working my tail off with no end in sight until about next Friday. It's all good, but I am so wiped out it isn't even funny. That's why there's been no blog updates.

I did get a call from lovely Ms. Barb today, which is always a pleasure. She was at her favorite place, the dog park. She told me that she took an NA H&I meeting into the county jail a few days ago and ran into one of my sponslings, who had relapsed. I was sponsoring the gal winter and spring 2006 in Arizona. She was a great woman, very sweet and funny, and was plowing through the steps, but I could see her begin to drift away. It's funny, you can tell when they're on their way out quite often, can't you?

I'm usually very gentle with my sponslings. But I do recall telling her pretty flatly if she didn't get back to meetings, stop running with the boys, and work with a new sponsor when I left Arizona, she was going to get loaded. And she did.

Hopefully this will be her bottom. I know I'm glad I hit mine. I watch the newcomers drag in and know--it's not getting any better out there.

Until we meet again, Happy Trails.

Romy's stylin'

Lost in the chaos of legal files

I'm still alive but buried under a deadline. All is well. I went to a meeting tonight to get out of here for a minute and heard this: Getting clean is like winning the lottery and you don't even have to buy a ticket. Amen.

A beautiful rain blew through and cooled everything off, leaving the flowers nodding their wet heads.

The day isn't starting out too well . . .

I have a big goose egg on my temple and a scrape on my knee and finger, thanks to Ms. Romy, who "greeted" another dog by running down the street toward her at a dead run, dragging me behind. Her obedience is out of control; I've let her coast for so long it's like she doesn't even hear me. Sound familiar to any of you with teenagers?

My aunt died yesterday just a few weeks before her 90th birthday. My aunt was my father's sister and definitely, when I think of the word 'matriarch,' she comes to mind. She hadn't been ill, in fact, she was still driving herself to the beauty salon. A big party was planned for her on the 27th, so all in all, it's sad, but she went quietly in the early morning hours.

She and my father were so close that it was wonderful to see them interact. My aunt became very ill one year on a trip from Arizona back to her home state of Pennsylvania, and my father packed up a bag and drove straight to Houston to sit at her bedside for a week.

They were raised on a farm in upstate New York and had a tough childhood. My father was forced to become the 'man' of the family at six or so and that was his driving force in life--to be responsible and do what a 'man' did. I think everything he learned about being a man before the service was in the Boy Scouts.

My aunt taught kindergarten, as I recall, until she married a grocery store manager, who would later by their bootstraps form a large grocery store chain. But my aunt was always the benchmark of the family, the one everyone turned to with their heartaches, their cuts and scrapes and their joy. She will be missed terribly.

There are many stories surrounding her famous relationship with her hard-driving husband, but let me share one of the best. Let us suppose her last name was 'Richard'. She had a habit, which spoke louder than words, of rolling her eyes when her husband was not in synch with her thinking, which was about 99 percent of the time, it appeared. Her daughter, my cousin whom I visited in April in South Carolina, has a great eye roll, too, as do her two daughters.

My cousin's husband remarked that he and my aunt's husband and a brother-in-law or so would sit on one side of the table and all the women would be on the other side. My uncle would make some remark and my cousin's husband said he'd immediately watch "The Richard roll," which was four sets of female eyes rolling simultaneously. Can't you just visualize it?

I love to cook, and often, in fact just a few months ago, I called her to ask her how to tweak some recipe or what cut of meat to use for a particular dish, I can't recall which. We've lost that, and much more, but this is life, isn't it?

My mother and aunt were great friends, and I know that she's in the great beyond with my father and my mother, having a few laughs, or, knowing them, a lot of laughs. I will miss her.

Phlox

These phlox just bloomed; aren't they great?

We watched Iron Jawed Angels today in class, a movie about the American suffragettes. These steely women earned us the right to vote, but not without considerable emotional and physical pain.

U.S. women should watch the film. Many of us don't realize how hard women had to fight in this country to achieve the right to vote. Plus, there's some great acting by Hilary Swank and Mr. McDreamy of Grey's Anatomy fame.

Until tomorrow, have a great day.

Bad customer service

As any of you have who have read my blog for long know, lousy customer service sends me over the edge. Today it's a fight with RH Donnelley which prints the yellow pages here locally for Embarq. I decided to take out two lines in their pages for my business. The salesperson was nice and very pleasant, until I decided, well before the deadline, to cancel. Then she was a rude piece of crap and said "fine" and hung up on me. I assumed it was taken care of.

A month later after the pages are out I get a bill for over $200 for the second line which I cancelled. Of course, I called her immediately and she said she "doesn't recall" the cancellation. She gave me a number to call, which was the wrong number, and after 15 minutes they tracked down where to call her supervisor, who never returned my call.

Then, I wrote a letter with the bill. This morning they called and said that any cancellation should have been in writing. I told the woman this morning that I would have canceled in writing if the woman who was my rep told me to instead of hanging up on me. This new player said there's nothing she can do.

I told her to write me a letter so I can take it to the Public Service Commission, which regulates this type deal, I believe. She said she can't, there is no form letter for this. I told her to write one up only after I told her to "bite me."

You, too, can have this much serenity when you have 22 years clean.

After hanging up on her, I immediately took out my daily meditation book, and read these words: "Help and Peace and Joy are here. Your courage will be rewarded." I don't feel courageous, I feel pissed and overwhelmed quite frequently these days.

Last night at my home group we were talking about small changes in our lives as we stay clean which end up bringing big changes. I admitted that this is an area, lousy customer service, that routinely sends me over the edge. I don't know what exactly to do about it. Sometimes I'm unfailingly polite with customer service people realizing that some village lost an idiot, but other times I just get in a frothing fit.

I've learned another lesson--put it in writing. No one, in today's business environment, it seems, owes you the courtesy of explaining anything.

I did find this online, though, and if I knew the email address of the woman I told to bite me, I would avail myself of this free service.

I may have to ask my sponsor: Does this count as an amends?

An update: I found the email canceling and confirming my cancellation. Round Two!

Control freaks unite!

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Now YOU say 'control freak'!"

I heard this at my women's meeting today and only two of us got it. I completely roared laughing. The others looked at us like we were crazy and we had to explain it. I guess I qualify.

I went to Alanon last night and the message, although I haven't been in years, is still the same. Let go and work your own program.

Then this morning one of our women who isn't an addict but comes to meetings anyway (boy, has this generated some meetings snapping shut!) talked about her control issues. She said that her husband was putting together some paperwork and she had to resist the urge to stop heading out the door to work to "help" him although he was totally capable, she said.

She said she realized that what he was doing "did not require my assistance." I was thinking that when I get ready to stick my nose into someone's business, the way they're doing things or not doing them, I should remember the acronym (DNRMA), or "does not require my assistance." I'm sure the world and me would both be happier.

Until tomorrow, sleep tight.

Account canceled!

I learned a new technique for surrendering resentments. I was talking to a good friend on the phone today, Oz's original mother. Pat is a woman who walks a straight spiritual path and has been an inspiration to me for many years. I've learned so much from her, both in terms of dogs, but also in terms of how to live a more spiritually based life.

I was talking to her about my epiphany about the "release" that I had about a few days ago about a hurtful situation thatI wrote about in my blog. Because Pat is such a giving and trusting person, over the years, a lot of people have really used her. She explained a technique that has helped her greatly when struggling with emotional hurts and resentments.

She said that the original Greek root of "forgive" is the equivalent of "account canceled." I'm sure there are controversies over this, but the idea at least in the Lord's prayer, originally Anglo-Saxon but changed with Latin phrases, is "Forgive us our debts." So the idea she uses is to think of someone who hurts you as an "account." Briefly review that hurt in your mind when it arises, go in and visualize canceling that debt.

Then, if the thought comes back, that resentment, that anger over the event or circumstances, don't fight the thought. (The Buddhist tradition has taught us much here!) Instead, in your mind, visually check that account tied to that resentment or person or institution and say, "Yes, I canceled that debt; the account is empty."

Pat tells me it's been the most healing affirmation she has used in dealing with resentments over her life. Until we meet again, I hope you have a safe and fun weekend.