Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who irritate me.

Fred Allen

There has been plenty to irritate me lately. A new job and adjusting to a boss who I am sure has several planets in Virgo, at least Uranus. A sister-in-law of 32 years dying of cancer, yet we are not allowed to say our goodbyes. A brother who moved into my house after four months in the hospital who sits on the couch all day watching reruns of Law & Order, predicting the end of Western civilization, his comments punctuated by vomiting in a kidney-shaped emesis bowl. Yes, there is plenty to be irritated about.

But then, there is the wonder. Cool walks up North Mountain where I smile at Labradors and their panting owners. A steady pay check, health benefits and bonus checks when many of my friends are unemployed; the soft snore of my two German shepherds as they guard my bed each night as I wait for sleep. Wonder for my friends who post funny pictures on Facebook and poke me when I change my status to “pissed off.”

Yes, there are many reasons to be irritated. But there are many more reasons to breathe in, breathe out and say quietly, “Thank you.”

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Another day unpacking

I spent a few hours today unpacking. I've collected pottery for years, Frankoma, Hull, and a few other styles, and each piece I took out of the box had a bit of memory attached to it.

I unpacked my mother's dishes yesterday, washed them and put them in her old maple hutch. I couldn't help but recall how many family dinners we ate on those plates; how many Thanksgivings we ate as Bolero blared in the background; how many times she and I stood in the kitchen drying that china after all the hustle of the meal was over and my brothers and Dad sat in the family room watching football or baseball or arguing about something.

Sometimes, not often because I try not to allow myself regrets, I wonder how, despite how hard my parents tried to raise me well, I got so screwed up. I am so grateful that I got clean while they were alive so that they could see how much I'd changed. I'd finally, my mother said to me, become the daughter she'd wanted all along. I wonder why I couldn't see her love for me when I was young?

I guess I'm in the mood to reminisce because tonight at my home group I talked a lot about how I got clean in Phoenix. I don't know that I would have gotten clean anywhere else. People took me under their wing and loved me when I felt completely unlovable. They saw something in me that I couldn't even fathom in myself: That I was a worthwhile human being who had so terribly lost her way. Thank God for the Fellowship we had at the time.

We were at church today and sang Amazing Grace. Every time I hear that song I cry, I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because that's exactly what I was, a wretch, a pitiful, self-hating wretch. Yet God chose me to get clean.

Tonight at my home group there were three of us there with over twenty years. When I spoke about watching, as Red in Phoenix used to call it, the "passing parade," I saw them nodding, because we can't figure out why some people make it and some people don't. I often wonder why I am so lucky to have found the rooms and stuck.

Yes, I did the footwork, but it's grace, pure and simple, that brought me to the Fellowship and it is grace that has kept me there. And grace will lead me home.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Wait a little longer

When I was little, my mother had a special verse she would say to me when I wanted to do something all my older brothers were doing. "Wait a little longer 'til your little wings grow stronger, then you'll fly, fly away," she'd tell me.

My second year clean I decided to move from Phoenix back to Oakland to attend college. Oakland was where I had done the worst of my using. She and my Dad were clearly worried that if I went there, I wouldn't be able to stay clean, but they seemed reticent to talk to me about it.

Mom and I were sitting in armchairs one night chatting and I could sense her unease. "Mom," I finally asked, "Are you worried if I move back to Oakland I can't stay clean?"

"Yes," she finally admitted. "Remember what I used to say to you when you were little, "Wait a little longer . . . "

"'Til your little wings grow stronger," I finished for her.

"Right," she said solemnly.

"It's going to be okay, mom, I promise you." And it was. That was twenty years ago and I have kept that promise.

My parents taught me the meaning of unconditional love and for that lesson and many others they taught me, I am so very grateful. If I can be half the person that each of them was, I will be satisfied.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Another day for gratitude

I'm still recovering from the sinus infection from hell so I spent most of the past three days on the couch watching some of the weirdest movies HBO or SHO can shovel. Every time I lie down my head fills up like a water balloon, so I just lean back on the couch and watch movies and snooze. This evening I'm just starting to feel like maybe my head won't fall off, so there is hope, I think.

Recall that I wrote a few days ago about one of my sponslings relapsing. I had a phone call tonight from her husband and she's in county jail with a new possession charge. I remember once my mother telling me that the only time she slept well was when I was in jail and I thought she was crazy. However, I admit that once I received the call, I felt more at peace because at least now I know she's not ripping and running, she's safe.

I am going to try to call her P.O. tomorrow to advocate for a long-term treatment program instead of prison. She's such a sweet girl that it hurts my heart to see her go back to prison, but maybe that is her bottom. I know I can take that one extra step to see if I can help her, but after that, I am at peace with the outcome. If she goes back to prison, odds are I'll be here when she gets out.

There isn't much news other than that. My boyfriend hung Romy's door and just for fun before I locked her out of the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator. One last hurrah, I guess. At least she didn't get the pecan sandies.

Tomorrow I start working in earnest on my training project. I am grateful today for many things. I'm grateful for a beautiful spring day, a boyfriend who takes care of me like I'm the Holy Grail, a fun Hungarian movie, a few pecan sandy cookies, for my blogger friends who give me electronic "atta-girl" even when I'm crazy, but most of all, for another day clean.

Until tomorrow, namaste.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Happiness

Yesterday's meeting topic was happiness, taken from a daily reading. It was a really good meeting because so many members had simple yet profound things to share about their versions of happiness.

I grew up in a very funny family. Laughter was the strongest common denominator that we shared so using humor was the best way for us to connect to one another. When I came into the rooms, I had completely lost my ability to laugh.

Of course, there was nothing funny. I never paid my bills until the cut-off notice came, the police had confiscated my vehicle, I weighed 102 pounds, when I looked in the mirror I saw nothing looking back at me, and my dog had run away. And that's just for starters.

Before I could be happy, I see now in retrospect, I had to quit drinking and using. There was no joy in my life when I hung out with lowlifes (as one member said, "I hung out with lower companions until I became one"); couldn't hold a job; did whatever I felt necessary to drink and use; and ran roughshod over everyone who ever loved or tried to help me.

I’m a person who is prone to depression; often sees the glass as not only half-full, but with a hole in it; and has worked at cross purposes many times in my life pursuing financial security over what I believe God put me on earth to do. Today, I’m trying to change these things because I’m tired of living the way I’ve always lived. It seems like many people are in the same boat, but new research can help us adjust our attitudes and live happier, more contented lives.

What makes us happy? In 1998, the American Psychological Association’s president chose as his theme for the year expanding mental health to include not just studying mental illness, but understanding what makes people happy. Now, thousands of researchers throughout the United States are studying happiness. Here are some key findings, which I find strangely in tune with our program of recovery.

  • Once basic needs are met, more income increases our satisfaction with life very little.
  • Faith lifts the spirits.
  • Social skills and friends are very important to our happiness.
  • Reconstructing our day to discover what we enjoyed as opposed to what went wrong. (I guess so that we can do more of it. Sound like a 10th Step?)
  • How things end is often more important than what really happened. (Maybe that’s a good hint that even when we have unpleasant encounters, prompt amends or immediately attempting to “patch things up” can help us avoid alienating others.)
  • How we spend our time is a great indicator of happiness. It’s not the pursuit of happiness; it’s the steps along the way. (I’m almost always happier on the days I attend a meeting.)
  • Genetics account for about 50 percent of our attitude, social scientists have postulated. (I used that excuse for years: "Oh, I was born pissed off.")
  • Most of us have a “happiness set point” so that no matter what we encounter either good or bad, in a short time, we return to that baseline.
  • Two life events seem to be hardest to overcome: The death of a spouse and the loss of a job. With the loss of a spouse, it’s five to eight years before one returns to equilibrium. With a job loss, unhappiness can linger even after we return to the workplace.
  • Keep a gratitude journal. One researcher found that those who wrote down their gratitude once a week were more satisfied with life than those who did not write a list. (Now I know why my sponsor sometimes makes me write a gratitude list.)
  • The broader the span of things we’re grateful for, the greater ability we have to reduce our fatigue and pain.
  • Interpersonal virtues like selflessness and the ability to love are strongly tied to happiness.
  • Acts of kindness and selflessness makes our lives more meaningful. Most people, according to Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, a well-known and highly regarded social scientist and author of the book Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, are happier when they’re with others than alone.
  • Happiness is a habit. We need to, every day, recommit ourselves to happiness.

A Google search brings up scads of information about how to be more happy. A neat website, www.reflectivehappiness.com, is devoted to helping us discover more about ourselves and feel better about ourselves. There are tests (if you’re wondering if you’re depressed, there’s a test for that) and an interesting “Signature Strengths” test. Answering a series of 240 questions, the test reveals our top five strengths compared to others in your demographic. My core strengths from top down were: Forgiveness and mercy; appreciation of beauty and excellence; curiosity and interest in the world; fairness, equity and justice; and humor and playfulness (now there’s a surprise!). There are also some exercises which are touted to help us to learn skills to “build emotional well-being.”

One member yesterday remarked that she had stopped striving for happiness; what she now looked for was contentment. Today I know this. I'm happier now, more contented, even given all the challenges I've had over the past two years, than I've ever been in my recovery. Those challenges include a transplant; loss of my job and what appears will be a career change; the loss of my beautiful home; being away from twodogs for months due to my illness; three moves; still having most of my belongings in storage for two years (see, we really can do with much less); limited income and blowing through every dime I had due to the illness; continued medical visits and a slowly deteriorating sense of foreboding that, any time, my transplant could fail.

Why is that? It's again the grace of God, my friends and family, and in short a great support system built on the back of the Fellowship. Each day I have a great sense of adventure, a great sense of the absurd, an ability to laugh at myself, a beautiful place to live, great, great relationships, and strong hope for my future. Oh, and twodogs. How can I ask for more?