Emotional sobriety

My cousin's cat. This is how I feel on bad hair days!

Today's meeting was awesome. The topic was emotional sobriety and comments from many members, new and old, were right on target.

One thing my sponsor does when I start ranting, and sometimes it makes me mad, is to tell me to "Lose the drama." She doesn't cut me any slack. When I walked into this morning's meeting where I normally go on Mondays and Wednesdays, there was a sign on the infamous board that announced a group conscience next month to vote on splitting the meeting so that non-smokers could hold the noon meeting upstairs and the "real" members, the smokers, could have the main meeting room. I don't know, but it struck me as incredibly selfish. I know today that a simple majority is not necessarily a group conscience, especially on contentious matters like smoking.

I started in on one of my friends about the smoking issue because I won't be able to attend if I have to wade through smoke and she just wasn't buying into my angry drama. So when the meeting turned to emotional sobriety, I was right where I needed to be.

When we are in emotional trouble, the focus must be on me, not on what others have done to me. I believe that we all need to vent when things hit us, but if we don't quickly move into the solution, we are in grave danger of relapse. As one member said, "I keep retelling my side of the story and soon my "right" becomes my "wrong." Think for a moment about that mouthful.
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Even as a friend to people I have to remember if I continue to allow people to vent it can border on me "patty caking" them. There is always two sides to each story and when I judge based on the one side I'm hearing, I am usually shortsighted and unhelpful to the one telling the story. I can only usually feed the flames of their "righteous" anger and pain.
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The meeting may well go to a split smoking/non-smoking meeting. I know I don't have to worry about it because it's not here yet. I don't have to politic, send someone to speak for me because it's not my home group, start looking for another noon meeting, nothing. Nada, not one thing. All I have to do is stay emotionally sober. The rest will take care of itself.
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Until tomorrow, my friends, I am glad to be home and back with you.

Don't my cousin and I look alike?

Woohee! I am so tired; more tomorrow gang. That was one tiring vacation. Two nights of designated driving have left me exhausted. Until tomorrow, then. (That's me on the left.)

9th Step has consequences

Wherever I go, not only there I am but I read the local papers pretty thoroughly to get a flavor of the city. Yesterday in the Post & Courier, dubbed "the south's oldest daily newspaper," I saw an article that really gave me pause.

A 42 year-old man was just sentenced to ten years in prison with all but 18 months suspended for raping a coed in 1984. DNA caught up with him, you might assume, but you'd be wrong. William Beebe pleaded guilty to the 1984 rape as part of his AA 9th Step. He apparently wrote the victim a letter to "make amends."

Wow, I'm really taken aback by this one. Can you imagine how he could have weaseled out of this one? He and his sponsor could have decided an anonymous letter would have been sufficient, citing the 9th step proviso ". . . except when to do so would injure them or others." He is, he could well have rationalized, an "other," as is his family, if he has one.

I believe that victims have a right to face their attackers and this letter allowed the victim to locate him, although she apparently knew his name at the time of the rape. Her university, she said, was not helpful at the time of the assault and she did not press charges then.

I do recall people, in my early recovery, telling newcomers that we must be willing to face the consequences of our amends, even if it meant going to jail. Beebe, who is 13 years sober according to newspaper reports, will move to Florida once released from a Virginia prison.

Your thoughts?

I'm still in Charleston, but without a USB cord, which is not the worst thing I could be without, I guess. Until tomorrow, when I'll post some pics, have a great day. Oh, yes. Run any amends you owe by your sponsor first!

God has a sense of humor

So last night I'm waiting for my plane at the airport in Charlotte and I run across a bank of rocking chairs. Almost all of them are full as people rock away but I spy an empty one. I ask the women rocking if it was taken and she says "No." So down I sit and commence rocking.

Because we're both women, we start talking about our travel delays, mine self-imposed (paying a stupid tax) and hers a result of bad weather in Newark. Soon our talk gets around to the important stuff, family, kids, what we do for a living. I ask her what she does after she asks me what I do. It turns out she's a marriage and family counselor.

Isn't God funny? Just fifteen minutes before sitting down next to her I'm stewing about my relationship and wishing I could go to an AA meeting and out of all the rockers I sit down next to a therapist rocker. God always sends me Eskimos.

I didn't disclose much to her, after all, she's on vacation, but I felt better just meeting a nice spirit. I caught the 8:30 flight and my cousin and my aunt, who is 89, met me at the airport. We talked the entire 90 minute drive to my cousin's house. So the day was ended well, as any day I don't drink or use does.

Today we did some touring and cooking and mostly sat around and talked. The seafood here is awesome and fresh. Until tomorrow when I'll post some Charleston pics, have a great day.

Sitting in the airport

I'm sitting in the Charlotte, NC airport because I missed my connecting flight. I've been flying since I was a kid and this is the first flight I've ever missed. It was another ADD thing. My cell phone didn't roll ahead as my old US Cellular did when I landed in a new time zone, so here I sit, waiting now another three hours for the next flight to Myrtle Beach.

It's not been a great day; too much time alone, I think. It's a two-hour drive from my home to the airport then the flight here and I'm worn out. Wouldn't it be great if they had a 5 p.m. meeting in every major airport in America? I'd like that. I could really use a meeting. Or I could just page a friend of Bill W., I guess.

My significant other and I were talking last night and he basically said that he doesn't think I've changed in the year we've been together. I think I have and I know he has, but if he doesn't see any change in me, then maybe that's not good.

I always felt like if a relationship was "meant to be," there wouldn't be a lot of emphasis on changing the other person; that there would be more flow and less conflict. Am I dreaming?

I've started reading Steven Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I'm feeling pretty blue, though. Part of it is that my life's been up in the air for months, if not years, and I need to make some tough decisions about where I'm going to live to build my business. Naturally, that's hurting the relationship. I had told him a few weeks ago to "step up to the plate," but really, it's me that hasn't even donned the jersey. As they say, when you point a finger there's four pointing back at you.

Until tomorrow, I wish I had more motivational words to share, but some days are like this and you just keep trudging.

ADHD

Anyone who suffers from Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, and I mean suffers because having it really impacts one's life negatively, despite all the cute little jokes we say about ourselves to help shield us from the shame we feel, may get a kick out of today's entry. If you don't have it, you can read this and add that fact to your gratitude list.

I am trying to tie up loose ends before I leave tomorrow, which is to say 1) my office is a mess and 2) laundry needs doing before I can pack and 3) I have to deal with various computer hassles before I leave and 4) there's always people and 2dogs who need some time before I leave.

I went to church this morning determined to come home afterwards and organize the mess in my office. But first, I needed to send for Oz' papers to get a copy of his registration, which of course is in Arizona although I now am in Missouri. That makes sense, doesn't it? Recall that two-thirds of what I own has been away from wherever I am for about two years (except for six months where I unpacked everything only to pack it back up and put it back in storage.)

I've asked the woman I bought Oz from for his registration number at least five times and she keeps blowing me off. I'm not sure what that's all about except that's her problem, although she's making it mine. So I emailed the AKC about two weeks ago and they emailed me his registration number. Certain that I had written it down, I must have deleted their email (although I have emails on my computer dating back months that should be deleted) and despite searching my computer, all the hundreds of papers on my desk and everywhere I could have written his number down, alas, it is gone.

So I have to email the AKC again which of course will take another week before I can get it and order his papers. Not to mention I had his pedigree in my hand as I cleaned my office and now, although I've gone through every place I could have put it and every file I filed things in, is nowhere to be found. I feel like crying.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg. This is daily how my life shapes up. I can't find anything, I keep things I don't need, I throw away things I do need as I try in vain to get organized, well, I could go on for about two hours. I really just want to go crawl in a hole somewhere and forget everything, the dogs, the trip, packing, the whole enchilada.

Having ADD is like living in almost total chaos most, if not all, of the time. I have read books, gone to a therapist, tried medication which I couldn't tolerate, worked the steps on it, and alas, it's still here and it's still making my life unmanageable. We all know that old saying that "If nothing changes nothing changes," right? Well, nothing has changed since I've been a tiny kid and labeled a "troublemaker" by my wonderful Catholic teachers because I couldn't sit still.

There, I am done venting. I feel better now. Until the next time I can find my computer under a mountain of paperwork I probably will never need, take care.

Getting ready for Charleston

I made a big boo boo. I am not going to Charlotte, I'm going to Charleston on Monday. Good thing I'm not the pilot! So just ignore me; I was a state off or a few fries short of a Happy Meal.
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Not much news here today. It's raining again and slightly cold. I keep thinking "It's spring" but then get fooled.
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Tomorrow's the women's meeting which I always look forward to. I am scurrying to the post office to mail my taxes then on to have a photo taken for a head shot. Ain't life grand?
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There are no big revelations today for me, just another day doin' the deal. Until tomorrow, hope you keep doin' the deal, too.

Spring is definitely here

Life is picking up. This week I've had three calls with at least one promise of work. I'm waiting for the confidentiality agreement right now before we proceed with one company and I'm waiting to hear back from the other two on the status of potential work.
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It's funny, but just when I said "I quit!" to the job search, things started to happen in my own business. Surrender to win; perhaps I'd forgotten that?
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The sun is shining and I'm going to make the most of today. Until tomorrow!

My beautiful friend Barbara

is waiting for a liver transplant. She's just gotten on the list in Phoenix and is having good days and bad days. Please keep her in your prayers and drop by her blog at www.thefirstchakra.blogspot.com to wish her well. She's a dog lover and an awesome artist and jewelry maker. Tell her 2 dogs sent you!

Romy waits for spring

It feels like spring here today; the bulbs, the daffodils, the crocus, the delphinium, are beginning to poke their snouts above ground. It signals hope to me; we've survived another winter.
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Sometimes, that's what recovery is like. We go through periods of great happiness then times of great difficulties: sorrow, regrets, losses and bad decisions. I always know today, although I didn't in those first few years, that things come to pass, they never come to stay. Just like winter, when I'm feeling defeated or depressed, spring is usually right around the corner if I can just hang on.
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Until tomorrow, I hope that you have hope. It's really about the most important thing we can have, isn't it?
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Romy gives Oz a few refrigerator-raiding tips

"See that bungie cord? I spit in its pate! If you just squeeze between the wall and the side of the refrigerator, put your shoulder into it and PUSH! voila! the bungie cord loosens and it's gravy! Sometimes literally! Cheez it, it's Mom!"

A blogger's convention redux

It's only months until NA World Convention in San Antonio. Who's on board? Let's start asking all the NA recovery blogs and see if we can't get a few of us there. Any ideas?

WooHoo!

Spring break is upon us and my wonderful cousin has sent me a round-trip ticket to visit her in South Carolina! I'm flying into Myrtle Beach and then on to Charlotte (I think). My aunt, who will soon be 90, is there, my dad's sister, so we'll have a blast. My cousin said I "needed a vacation!" Boy, is she ever right. I'll probably hit a meeting or two while I'm there. Any recommendations?
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Meanwhile, I'm heading up to northern Missouri today with a friend for a noon meeting. She just took a job at the Department of Corrections as a guard (yikes!) so she can't get to many night meetings. Road trip, I love them.

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I must walk 2 dogs, so until later or tomorrow, take it easy.

You can stick your hand through fear

Fear is an illusion. That's easy to say and pretty easy to understand intellectually. How, though, do we get this realization from our head to our gut?

We believe our fears come from outside us. Perhaps we have a fear of public speaking. Are we afraid of the audience? We may think so, but the real fear is that we'll appear foolish. Or maybe we're afraid of getting close to another human being. Is this about his or her emotional unavailability? No, it's about our own inability to get close to another human being so our fear is really about ourselves, that we, through our own defects, will lose the other person.

As one Buddhist practitioner put it, fear is "The belief that you are going to lose power and control. It is about believing that you are going to lose something dear to you. It is about you and your projections of what you believe is going to happen. A key word is 'believe'. A second key word is 'going'."

If we stay in today and especially in this moment, fear is less likely. Most of the time when I feel fear, I'm living in tomorrow. "What if I don't have enough to pay my bills at the end of the month? What if my dog dies? What if my boyfriend leaves me? What if I get sick again?" This is the constant parade of thoughts that go through my mind if I'm unaware of my "squirrel cage," as my sponsor calls it, in my brain.

Prayer and meditation can calm this cage. So can calling people we love for a "reality check." This is a simple technique that can help. One of my friends found herself worrying or projecting into the future. When she would realize she was doing this, she said to herself, "Oops, worrying!" This allowed her to recenter her thoughts on whatever it was she was supposed to be doing, which was definitely not worrying.

Fear is an illusion we create throughout our lives. In recovery, fear no longer serves us. If we look at our fears squarely, they are transparent. We can stick our hands right through them.

Until tomorrow, I'm taking a day off from worrying.

The Romy problem solved

Someone said they were looking forward to hearing how we solved the Romy refrigerator raids problem. You're looking at it. It's very sad really; Romy will now just sit at the door and gaze at the refrigerator. It's like a Sartre version of dog hell.

PS. This is not an exact door. Note the wine bottles aren't mine. I stole this from a door website.

Need a laugh?

Because I need a laugh today (it's raining here), I received these lines from the old Hollywood Squares show from Barbara at http://www.thefirstchakra.blogspot.com/ and thought I'd reprint them here. Hope I'm not violating some copyright. Recall that this was in the days that humor, if a little racy, was truly funny. Now we have to be over the top to make people laugh, I think. BTW, we saw "Norbit" the other night and I laughed and laughed. I am not one to make fun of overweight people as the movie does, but it is really funny. The little guy who plays the ex-pimp, Kat Williams, is a comedian whose stand-up is hilarious if you can get past the language (which ultimately I couldn't). Anyhoo, here's the questions and answers.

Q. Do female frogs croak?
A. Paul Lynde: If you hold their little heads under water long enough.

Q. If you're going to make a parachute jump, at least how high should you be?
A. Charley Weaver: Three days of steady drinking should do it. [Amen, brother!]


Q. True or False, a pea can last as long as 5,000 years.
A. George Gobel: Boy, it sure seems that way sometimes.


Q. You've been having trouble going to sleep. Are you probably a man or a woman?
A. Don Knotts: That's what's been keeping me awake.


Q. According to Cosmopolitan, if you meet a stranger at a party and you think that he is attractive, is it okay to come out and ask him if he's married?
A. Rose Marie: No, wait until morning.


Q. Which of your five senses tends to diminish as you get older?
A. Charley Weaver: My sense of decency.


Q. In Hawaiian, does it take more than three words to say "I Love You"?
A. Vincent Price: No, you can say it with a pineapple and a twenty.


Q. What are "Do It," "I Can Help," and "I Can't Get Enough"?
A. George Gobel: I don't know, but it's coming from the next apartment.


Q. As you grow older, do you tend to gesture more or less with your hands while talking?
A. Rose Marie: You ask me one more growing old question Peter, and I'll give you a gesture you'll never forget.


Q. Paul, why do Hell's Angels wear leather?
A. Paul Lynde: Because chiffon wrinkles too easily.


Q. Charley, you've just decided to grow strawberries. Are you going to get any during the first year?
A. Charley Weaver: Of course not, I'm too busy growing strawberries.


Q. In bowling, what's a perfect score?
A. Rose Marie: Ralph, the pin boy.


Q. It is considered in bad taste to discuss two subjects at nudist camps. One is politics, what is the other?
A. Paul Lynde: Tape measures.


Q. During a tornado, are you safer in the bedroom or in the closet?
A. Rose Marie: Unfortunately Peter, I'm always safe in the bedroom.


Q. Can boys join the Camp Fire Girls?
A. Marty Allen: Only after lights out.


Q. When you pat a dog on its head he will wag his tail. What will a goose do?
A. Paul Lynde: Make him bark?


Q. If you were pregnant for two years, what would you give birth to?
A. Paul Lynde: Whatever it is, it would never be afraid of the dark.


Q. According to Ann Landers, is there anything wrong with getting into the habit of kissing a lot of people?
A. Charley Weaver: It got me out of the army.


Q. It is the most abused and neglected part of your body, what is it?
A. Paul Lynde: Mine may be abused, but it certainly isn't neglected.


Q. Back in the old days, when Great Grandpa put horseradish on his head, what was he trying to do?
A. George Gobel: Get it in his mouth.


Q. Who stays pregnant for a longer period of time, your wife or your elephant?
A. Paul Lynde: Who told you about my elephant?


Q. When a couple have a baby, who is responsible for its sex?
A. Charley Weaver: I'll lend him the car, the rest is up to him.


Q. Jackie Gleason recently revealed that he firmly believes in them and has actually seen them on at least two occasions. What are they?
A. Charley Weaver: His feet.


Q. According to Ann Landers, what are two things you should never do in bed?
A. Paul Lynde: Point and laugh.

A blue day

Hallelujah
By Jeff Buckley
BestAudioCodes.com

I can't believe I ate the WHOLE thing!

While some get back in the saddle, Romy has a penchant for getting back in the refrigerator. As you may recall, she is very smart and has a zest for raiding the refrigerator. For weeks, as long as I remember to put the bungee cord I rigged from the frig door handles to the cupboard door handle above, she hasn't gotten the door open.

From time to time, I'd come in the kitchen and notice her looking at the bungee cord hook-up, studying it, I've now realized. On Tuesday, after a haul to the grocery store where she watched me carefully put into the refrigerator two pot roasts and two chicken breasts, her plan was in place.

I left and hooked up the bungee before I left. When I returned, I opened the kitchen door to a mess. She had used her 85 pounds to her advantage and pushed on the right side of the refrigerator to move it about 6 inches so that the bungee cord loosened and she was able to get the door open with her paw.

She ate all the meat that was in plus a bit of other stuff (she particularly likes butter!). My boyfriend is a bit frustrated with her to say the least since she had just chewed the plastic kiddie locks off the cabinet below the sink where I store the garbage. We both just stood there and looked at her. She was hanging on the sofa. She didn't come to the door to greet us because she knew she'd been a BAD DOG!

Well, she's been sick now for two days and we're obviously going to have to put a door up to keep her out of the kitchen. No matter what we do, she outsmarts us. What can I say??
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I've been really busy with school, writing a few articles for a publication on obesity in the workplace (sounds exciting, doesn't it?) and handling service commitments. Tomorrow at the women's meeting we're celebrated my and one of my sponslings' natal birthdays.
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I am going to get some exercise this weekend and relax! Until tomorrow, have a great day.

It's my birthday

I'm a Pisces! Seriously, isn't this Chinese crested the ugliest thing you've ever seen? I'm spending the day giving two dog safety presentations to my friends kindergarten classes. Whoopee! How good can it get?

Why I love Emmylou Harris

Michelangelo
By Emmylou Harris
BestAudioCodes.com

Road trip!

The weather is warming up and I'm on the road today. I love road trips, don't you?

I'm heading (with my faithful traveling companion Oz) to Kansas City to www.veronicasvoice.org, a recovery and drop-in center for women trying to get off the streets. In previous blogs I've mentioned my desire to do something to assist women in the sex industry trying to start a new life. This is the closest local organization to my home and they're having an open house today.

I'll let you know more tomorrow about how the event was. I'm hoping to volunteer somehow with this organization, although it's a long drive.

Until tomorrow, have a great day!

Profanity in meetings

Last night's meeting was a lively one. One of our members with quite a few years started the meeting off by stating he's gotten in trouble at work for profanity and that he wanted some feedback about how to change that character defect. The only meeting topic I've found that triggers more controversy than cussing is smoking.

One of our old-timers, who doesn't like much anyway, started after him by saying that this was another "no-topic" meeting and that if he came in as a newcomer hearing this topic, he'd think "What the f---?"

That seemed to be the attitude of a few people; some were very contemptuous and made sure, with lots of profanity, that we got their point -- that no one can "censor" them.

My point basically comes from our literature -- what's appropriate for one stage of recovery may not be for another. Last year, my boyfriend took issue with my language, which was terrible. I have cussed since I've been a teenager, unfortunately, and it didn't bother me. So slowly I've been trying to clean it up, and completely eliminating cursing at meetings. I've noticed since I've done that I'm very sensitive to others' language and I can't always seem to hear the message around some members' profanities.

Also, as I shared last night, I've been in meetings where the language was so horrific that I've watched newcomers leave because it doesn't appear that our program of attraction is that attractive. We have also gotten kicked out of PI spots (especially in schools) because addicts failed to watch their language.

As I said in disclaimer last night, this is my experience in recovery, not something for others to take aim at or issue with, as so often happens when one offers an opinion.

It's always interesting to hear people speak about their spirituality bracketed around a string of profanities. One member summed up my point last night when he said "no f------ right-wing ideologues were going to tell me how I could or couldn't talk" then said " . . . and I'm just as spiritual as the next cat." Perhaps he meant an alley cat?
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We had a lot of laughs and I left the meeting still believing that we can share our truth without using a ton of profanity yet still get our points across. But I'm sure I didn't change anyone's mind with my opinion.

In early recovery when I was struggling with old behaviors, my sponsor referred me to her sponsor when she didn't know how to direct me. Her sponsor listened to me then asked one question: "What do you think God wants for you?" That stopped me in my tracks.

For me, God wants me to be closer to Him, and again, for me, a string of invectives doesn't invite God into my heart; profanities are a way I dispel anger and frustration. Again, my experience may not be your experience, but one thing that struck me clearly when I picked up chip #22 this year: With recovery goes responsibility. And today, for me, being responsible means cleaning up my language in meetings and in my heart.

Until tomorrow, be bold in actions and faith and humble in spirit (I stole this somewhere!).

Deer

My friend Wendy took this awesome pic in Missouri.

Need I say more?

What does it mean, really?

Do you ever wonder why things happen? Last night, about 11:00, Romy and I decided it was time for bed. Oz went to his crate (otherwise he stares at me intermittently waking me up starting about 6:00 a.m.). I took two great books upstairs, Bob Bly's Secrets of a Freelance Writer and my crossword puzzle book. Lately, I've become hooked on crosswords.

Romy hopped on the foot of the bed first; I climbed aboard a moment later. Suddenly, a loud "crack" rent the air and the bed collapsed. Romy was not amused and went off to sleep on the twin bed in the next room.

Because I have no life and too much time on my hands, when weird things like this happen, I try to look for the metaphor in it. As you know, faithful blog readers (my Doggettes!), I was in the midst of a heated job interview cycle with a company north of here. After three pretty grueling interviews, they didn't hire me, instead going with "an internal candidate."

I've been gruntled, as one of my business cohorts put it, over the whole situation, which I perceived as a giant waste of my time and energy. However, as I lay on the floor last night trying to sleep (after I'd moved the mattress away from the frame), I thought about what my HP is trying to say to me.

I've had about ten job interviews in the past eight months, all of them except one in the same industry in one form or another. The stress of this industry nearly killed me last time and isn't insanity, as I often preach, repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results? Then by that definition, I am acting insanely and against my best interests.

I keep looking for a job I don't want (I want health benefits, though!), and perhaps that's coming through in the interviews at some level. I know that I'm only 18 months post-transplant and just the drives to and the interviews exhausted me. How do I think I'm going to go back to working 50 and 60 hour weeks, commute, and have any life?

I firmly believe that God does for us what we can't do for ourselves. Essentially, I thought as I lay on the floor, God is closing doors for me again and again and over there lies -- wait! an open window.

The one thing I can do is write. The other thing I can do is give great business advice to others after 22 years in the management trenches. Plus, as a great addict, I greatly dislike authority (despite many fourth steps), so I am basically incapable of working for others for long. So you put it together. Shouldn't I be trying to build my own business, even if it means going into debt to do so?

Also, as I sat in class last night (I'm working on my masters in sociology) watching a film on W.E.B. DuBois and watching artist after artist, poet after poet, talking about Dubois' life and his search for justice, shouldn't my skills really go to something good instead of just to me? Does society really need one more manager, or does it need a writer who can pound out the truth?

So am I on the horns of a dilemma or am I just, once again, in need of more trust? Twice, at least, I've been delivered by Grace. God hasn't dropped me on my head, finding a liver for me when I'd already been left for dead by doctors who just didn't know how plucky I am. He got me clean from a horrific addiction. So where is my trust?

As I often preach to the blog masses, God is either everything or he's nothing. When the bed collapsed last night, I was immediately reminded of the Third Step. It's about collapsing into the Belief of a loving Higher Power. Thank God for small reminders, hey?

Well, I'm heading out soon to take a friend to meet a friend of mine. She's adopting her 5th child from Haiti (she's 50, by the way!) and to me she is a picture in love and courage. I wish I were more loving and courageous. Wait! I am, Gosh darn it, and people like me!

PS I'm into positive affirmations, too, did I tell you? Thanks for listening, Doggettes! I love you all, you know? Your comments often make my day!

Broken Hearts

copyrighted image used by permission of the artist, Catherine Jo Morgan, www.cjmorgan.com
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Isn't this image so simple but amazing? If you experienced a sad Valentine's Day feeling that no one loves you, remember, I do. If you're hurting for love, remember the wonderful words of the much-loved Vida from Los Angeles NA, who said, "Why do you think they call it heart broken? Thank God we know: It's all about the transforming power of love, isn't it?

Happy Valentine's Day

Violence in the rooms

As sad as it sounds, there is sometimes violence in our rooms. Yesterday some nutcase went into a Salt Lake shopping mall and killed a number of people. If these incidents happens in the general public, then NA and AA, like all 12-Step Fellowships because we are a microcosm of society, will experience violence, as well.

My first experience with violence was in Phoenix in the early 80s when I got clean. There was a man who attended NA who had many years clean and a terrible, explosive temper. He was married to a woman who was also in the program, although no one got to know her because he kept such a tight rein on her. (Hey, kids, this behavior is a red flag!) For anonymity, let's call him Hal.

Another man in the program, let's call him Rob (Rob's father sponsored about half of the men in NA when I got there and Rob was sponsored by Hal), developed a friendship with Hal's wife. Hal was totally a nutcase and I always gave him wide berth. He absolutely HATED the "in-group" in Phoenix NA and even went so far, one time, to develop a flow chart of all the positions in the area and region and show that most of them flowed back to one central person, whom he openly despised.

When I had about three years clean, I didn't understand what fear felt like in my body. When I used, I had no fear, so I was very disconnected from that feeling. I was sitting in a meeting and Hal was there and went on a hateful rant about how he hated this group of people surrounding the "in-group" and this one member in particular. His eyes were glazed over and frankly, I was terrified. It was the first time I can remember feeling what fear felt like in my body. I got up and left the meeting and went elsewhere to process my feelings and get away from this man.

About a year later and although I was living in California by that time, I learned that Rob had disappeared. The police investigation after interviewing about half of NA at the time led to Hal. Rob's body was never found, but blood traces from Rob's truck bed ended in his conviction for Rob's murder. Several NA members had to testify and were on a "death list" found by the police at Hal's home. He still sits in Arizona State Prison with a life sentence. Needless to say, things in Phoenix NA were pretty hysterical for awhile.

Suffice it to say, this is not the norm in NA. However, exceptions occur and when you mix mentally ill people on top of the usual mix of sober horsethieves, then we may have more problems than the norm. I've seen other instances of NA violence, most of them fistfights; dumping a full soft drink on a women's head at a dance; or other things that were quickly held in check by men restraining other men. The point remains that violence can erupt quickly over seemingly insignificant issues.

What can we do? First, address the topic in meetings and at your home group. If necessary, reword your format. State unacceptable behavior will not be tolerated. Throwing things is unacceptable. There's an old Czech saying about children that goes "First they play; then they cry."

Small things like open disrespect, crosstalk, approaching other members during sharing, or other covertly or overtly hostile acts, whether meant to be humorous or not, cannot be tolerated. It is the meeting chair's job to try to ensure behavior in meetings is appropriate and frankly, most of them aren't up to the task. If the chair can't tell a member who is loaded not to share or can't ask one who drones on and on to limit his or her share so others can talk, how do we expect them to curb potential potential violence?

Clearly, if this issue is rearing its head in your area and the group feels it cannot address it satisfactorily, the area or the region should form an ad-hoc group to help to address this issue. Short of that, if a person is asked to leave one meeting, he or she will simply go elsewhere with an agenda.

Next week I'm giving a kindergarten class a lesson on dog safety. The most important piece of advice I give children about dogs is that if they are afraid of any dog, walk slowly the other way and get away from that dog. The same is true of people who engender fear in us. We need to be aware of what our instincts are telling us and if we feel unsafe, it isn't our job to change the situation, confront the person or get involved unless someone is in critical danger. It's solely our job to protect ourselves. Go find another meeting then address the issue with your sponsor and your representatives at the group, area or region.

Clearly, though, we can't always approach people who are mentally ill. We all have people who love us, some have children who depend on us, parents who depend on us and all of us want to stay safe. So we can only do so much because hey, we've survived this far on grace, so let's not push our luck by feeling we have to save the meeting, the area, or the world.

Further, this is not just a problem in NA. As some of you who read my blog know, I just had this same problem in another Fellowship and it took me over a week to calm down, address the other person out of love and feel better about the situation. But first, it was one tough week.

Having said all that, I received a response back from NA World Service about this issue within a few hours of me requesting it. Here is the response from NA World Services in its entirety.

Thanks for calling NA World Services. In response to your request we do have a standard response for the issue of violence in meetings that may be helpful.

We are contacted frequently regarding disruptive members, the issue of violence, and the threat of violence in NA meetings. Often times these situations can be complex and we are humbled by the challenge of offering practical suggestions and direction. With that said, when confronted with this behavior, we suggest the group consider the following thoughts.

As outlined in The Group Booklet, the NA group is responsible for maintaining an atmosphere of recovery for all addicts who seek it. And in the spirit of the First Tradition, our common welfare is paramount in all of our personal recovery efforts. That is to say, if a member is violent or threatening violence at an NA meeting, the safety of all addicts who attend that meeting is the primary consideration. In addressing this issue we have a number of different strategies to consider:

One option to consider is for the group to have as part of the recovery meeting, a discussion topic such as Atmosphere of Recovery, in the attempt to raise everyone’s awareness of the effect of our behavior in NA meetings.

The group may choose to discuss the situation in a group business meeting. An open and frank group discussion of the matter may bring things to light, which may help in finding some resolution.

The group may consider taking this problem to the area service committee meeting in the hope that discussion there may lead to an increased awareness of the problem and possible resolutions other groups have tried.

The group may consider the option of having one member discuss the situation with the disruptive individual. This will need to be done in a loving, caring way, tempering honesty with compassion and understanding. A few words of caution, we should be mindful not to put any individual at risk in the attempt to address the problem.

Another variation on that idea is for two or three of the group’s mature, stable members to meet the disruptive individual on his or her way into the meeting each time. These members can help the individual understand what is being asked of him or her, and that violent behavior is not acceptable. Again, tempering honesty with compassion and understanding will help here. Expect that this intervention will need to occur more than once or twice, but if a group continues to do this before each meeting, there is a better chance that the disruptive person will respect the needs of those attending the meeting.

Finally, if a member’s safety is threatened, the group may decide they need to call the police. The responsibility for that decision rests more with the individual acting or threatening to act violently, than it does with the group. An individual’s personal anonymity must be balanced with the welfare of the group. Calling law enforcement is appropriate when personal safety is at stake.

Again, these options are offered as points that may lead to solutions to a potentially complex situation. We encourage the group to discuss the situation, and consider all of the options. We wish you success in all of your recovery and service efforts. Please contact us if we can be of any further help.

Warm regards,

Steve Rusch
Fellowship Services Team Leader
NA World Services
818-773-9999 x173
steve@na.org

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Overheard in Missouri

Taking a cue from http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/, which is often totally gross, I'm going to start a new feature occasionally, Overheard in Missouri.

Here's an excerpt from yesterday on Overheard in New York (edited for profanity).

Sometimes He Even Gets a Bear Claw

15-year-old boy #1: So, like, I know they used whales for, like, their blubber and s---, but I thought there was something else they killed 'em for.

15-year-old boy #2: Dumbass. They kill whales for their tusks, everybody knows that!

15-year-old boy #1: Oh, right... But I thought that's what elephants were for.

15-year-old boy #2: Nope. Their ears.

15-year-old boy #1, baffled: Their ears?

15-year-old boy #2: Yep, my dad goes down to the bakery every Sunday and gets an elephant ear and a coffee. I swear.

15-year-old boy #1: That's some f----up s--!
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Hey, readers, these kids will be paying our social security soon -- NOT!
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My first quote is from a Black sociology professor (and minister) when asked this question: "You've lived here thirty years, Dr. . . . Do you think in the last thirty years in Missouri, you have seen prejudice improve?"

His answer, after a pause, "No."

That's a pretty sad statement, isn't it?

Slow Sunday

Artist Guido Daniele paints hands as various animals.
.>.

The girls went out to dinner last night and then on to see Dream Girls, which was really good. I cannot believe how talented the performers were. Eddie Murphy was understated but hilarious as usual. The actress who portrayed Effie gave a superb performance.
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Whenever I go anywhere with a bunch of funny people, I award the "line of the night." Last night's line went to C., our kindie teacher. When Beyonce was meeting with Hollywood executives behind her husband's back, John Lithglow played the exec. He had shoulder length, gray, greasy-looking, wavy hair. C. cracked, "He looks like Benjamin Franklin" and we could not stop laughing. If you see Dream Girls, watch for Lithgow's brief appearance, and I'm sure you'll laugh at the resemblance as well.
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We all had a great time. It was good for us to get away together and get to know each other better. What's so great about the rooms is that at the table were two women on disability, one kindergarten teacher, a realtor, the wife of an attorney (she also caters), and an insurance underwriter. Income ranges at the table were probably from $300,000 to $12,000 annually. Where else can you put these different backgrounds together and yet have so much in common?
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I never thought I'd say I was grateful to be an addict or an alcoholic, but today, I am.

The Master Gardener

It's Saturday afternoon and I know that you're all waiting for the women's meeting update! This morning's meeting was about eight of us; the meeting is slowly growing. Several of us start each meeting by reading a passage from a daily meditation book. As I usually do, I read from my favorite, God Calling. This is an excerpt.

"The lifeline, the line of rescue, is the line from the soul to God, faith and power. It is a strong line, and no soul can be overwhelmed who is linked to Me by it. Trust, trust, trust. Never be afraid.

Think of My trees stripped of their beauty, pruned, cut, disfigured, bare, but through the dark seemingly dead branches flows silently, secretly, the spirit-life-sap, till, lo! with the sun of Spring comes new life, leaves, bud, blossom, fruit, but oh! fruit a thousand times better for the pruning.

Remember you are in the hands of a Master Gardener. He makes no mistakes about His pruning. Rejoice. "

I got to the second paragraph and broke up. This has been years of pruning, and this reading struck such a cord in me. One of the newer women sitting next to me looked concerned and said "Are you okay?"

"It's just such a beautiful reading," I said. Unless you've been through the fire, there is no explanation. Hers is about to come, I'm afraid, judging from her share. But you know what, we'll be there for her.

That was the last serious moment in the meeting. We were in rare form today, talking about drunk husbands, domestic abuse, rage, but through it all, we laughed.

One of our married members talked about one of her last drunks on a girl's night at her house. All her women friends were there, and oh, yes, one male, her brother-in-law. She blacked out about half-way through, she said, and woke up in her bed the next morning with a terrible hangover. She couldn't remember what she did after she blacked out, but she racked her brain, hoping she hadn't slept with her brother-in-law! We howled. I'm sorry, but that is a typical women's AA story.

I did have to describe to her one of my friend's bottom. She was my boss at the time and straighter than a yardstick. My boss went to her Lesbian employee's house, one of our coworkers, to a party. My boss went into a blackout and woke up the next morning in her Lesbian employee's bed. My boss couldn't remember if she had sex with her. That was her bottom and she went to AA right two days later.

I always remarked that her bottom would have been a good night for me; but, it isn't what we did that got us here, it's the feelings that accompanied what we did: The shame, the remorse, the desperate attempt to deny the reality of what we'd done. My friend never did ask her friend if they'd, well, done the deal. Denial, in her case, was a wonderful thing.

We had a great meeting and tonight we're having a Girl's Night Out. We're having dinner and going to see the movie Dream Girls.

If we let him, God will dance us to the end of love.

Yippee!

Well, I slogged another 60 miles round trip for a third interview with a company that's north of here. It's back in insurance, doing the same old bump and grind, but hey, it' s in God's hands. Who knows what will come of it. I think she's in a spot that she has pressure to hire an internal candidate but I'm more qualified so she's wondering if she can take the heat, which I can totally understand.

I also had a phone interview today for a governmental management job; it's what I used to do, but I don't feel like that's going to pan out. Too much budgeting and purchasing involved.

Tonight we're going to see the Harlem Gospel Choir, so I'm really looking forward to that. More tomorrow.

Who says there's no God?

Pictures taken from Hubble Space Telescope.

This is "The Perfect Storm," a area in the Swan Nebula,

which is basically a swirling cauldron of elements.

This one is called "Starry Night," a light halo around a Milky Way star. Astronomers were reminded of Van Gogh's painting "Starry Night."

Who needs cliques?

Graphic borrowed shamelessly from Sobriety is Exhausting

I've always viewed the Fellowship realistically, I think. I haven't expected it to meet all my social needs (I have many friends outside recovery), and while I have close friends in the Fellowship, there are a lot of people I don't hang with nor do I want to. And guess what? They don't want to hang with me either.

I had a gal come to me a few nights ago from a city about 30 miles away, referred by a local member. Her problem? Despite having 12 years in our camp, she is often excluded by people in the Fellowship, even those on whose committees she's serving. I didn't know what to tell her except I understood because I, too, experienced it; that she's probably not crazy; and offer my view on the matter. I didn't come to NA to win a popularity contest.

One of the things I've disliked about the NA Fellowship here in Missouri is the "cliques" that form and seem to almost delight in excluding people. I have thick skin in that regard. I developed it early because when I got clean in Arizona, I wasn't embraced by the "in crowd," most of whom, I might mention, aren't around today. No matter what "hot stuff" they were when they were here, they ultimately were part of, as Red in Phoenix used to say, "the passing parade."

I don't delight in that fact; I'm not judging, just reporting. It's just that even though I had my own pals I loved, as I watched those people in early recovery walk around like they were the "it" crowd, it was still slightly painful to be ignored.

I remember one night we went to see a band in Arizona called Killer Pussy, headlined by the vivacious Lucy LaMode. I went with my group of friends and was all dressed up in a tight black miniskirt and I thought I looked mahvelous (I did, I have pictures!). As we were standing in line, the NA "in crowd" showed up in a gaggle (they always went everywhere in a gaggle, like they were afraid to be alone with themselves) and one of the leaders of the clique looked at me like I was dirt. She is long gone, by the way, in and out for almost twenty years.

I heard a speaker the other night say that people complain to her about the cliques in NA. "Clique with those you clique with," she advised. I find that good advice. If I keep expecting people who clearly don't want to bother with me to pay attention to me, then I'm repeating the same action and expecting different results, which we all know as our version of insanity. An expectation is a premeditated resentment.

When I worked for World Service, now that was a clique. I was working on literature for the Fellowship, and yet when our members from Phoenix came in for their conferences or whatever, they barely spoke to me, made sure they didn't invite me to dinner, and many times I went home to a lonely house knowing they were having fun and didn't care that they'd excluded me. It was extremely painful and humiliating.

It's difficult when you feel excluded, but there are several answers. First, keep hitting meetings until you find ones that you like. Second, be there for the newcomers who come in the door. Focus on giving away what you have.

While we're human and it's natural that we congregate in our mini-tribes (recall that tribes were founded for survival), I find it absurd that we form these tight cliques for several reasons.

1. Many of us starting using in high school precisely because we didn't fit in with the "in crowd." Why would we perpetuate this dysfunction once we get clean is beyond me and extremely shallow and selfish behavior.


2. I never know who will save my bacon when I'm tempted to get loaded. In my case, it was one of the ringleader of the Phoenix cliche who happened to be home the day I thought I was going to get loaded when I had seven years clean.


3. The program, in its original form when it was founded by Bill W. and Dr. Bob, was based on Biblical principles, and the basis, as I understand the Bible anyway, is love. Love to me extends to all, the geeks who wear pencil protectors, those with funny teeth (I'm not talking just the English here), Blacks, Hispanics, Jews, Lesbians, overweight people, Gays, well, the list goes on and on, as I'm sure you can see. I doubt that the Apostles would have thought of themselves as a clique.

So if the Fellowship cliques are bothering you, turn it over. It probably isn't going to change because I'm on a rant about it. Find those you love and those who love you and remember, stick with the winners, most of whom aren't in cliques, in my opinion, anyway.

If you use the program's tools,

you may skin your knuckles. Working the steps, addressing interpersonal problems, taking input from our sponsors, reading the literature, listening in meetings when we don't feel like listening, and working with newcomers are all program tools. Working with these tools requires an essential ingredient -- willingness to walk through our feelings, no matter what these tools uncover.

The tools of the program may be hard to work and occasionally, things that we uncover may be so painful that we feel like we're raw, but use the tools we must.

One of my strongest tools in recovery are my women friends and one of the most important things I learned early in recovery is that those of the same sex will save our tuchases. That's been true in my case.

I received a phone call a few days ago from a woman who had just exited a tumultuous relationship. One of the things she did once she'd met this man was to drop all her women friends, unless, of course, she was having a big fight with him and needed to cry on someone's shoulder, then she expected us to drop everything to comfort her. As things often do, the relationship came to a point that he moved out and she was left alone with a checkbook in the negative, a lonely house and women friends who were a bit resentful that she's dropped them.

When she called, she asked if I'd make time to meet with her before our women's meeting to talk with her, which I did. But first, I had to square away some feelings I had about her behavior during the relationship so I could approach her and not sound harsh or angry.

We met for coffee and talked for awhile. Then I asked her if I could give her some input. She said yes, so I simply pointed out that perhaps she didn't realize it, but that she'd simply dropped her women friends when she got into the relationship and that might not have been such a hot idea. She agreed that she had.

Just because we're in the most wonderful or least wonderful relationship ever, we must work to maintain our same-sex friends, because they're the ones, when the going get roughs as it often does in relationships, who will save our bacon when it's sizzling.

I went to the meeting today and this gal was there with another of our friends so she's taking the right steps to rebuild some small damage done to her friendships. That's a good thing. It's easier, though, to take time to keep those relationships intact than to have to rebuild them later when you really need them. That's what this program is about: Giving unselfishly of ourselves when we have something to offer (even when we feel like we may not have time), not just taking when we feel needy. Today, it's not just all about me. (At least, I hope it isn't!)

On another note, I heard something really wonderful in the meeting today. Someone said when he was Restless he had no peace; when he was Irritable he had no serenity; and when he was Discontent he lacked serenity. For some reason, that hit me because my biggest problem in recovery has often been one of those three feelings. Are they feelings or are they character defects? Hm. Well, I've confounded myself, so that means it's time to go.

Thanks for chiming in lately. I love to hear from old blogger pals and also to hear from new ones, too. Have a great day.

Why some men rage at women

Because they can! I never realized this until my boyfriend pointed this out, but men who rage at women do it because there's no man around to interfere, at least that's what I find. Last night I was asked to speak at a meeting at a club where I go twice a week when it's non-smoking. I started attending before my transplant because it had a noon meeting and I didn't have to spend the entire day alone. It's sort of my quasi-home group, but I belong to another home group.
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Having said all that, I came in the door early last night and the local smoking crusader saw me and lit into me like 90 going north. My crime? I had written on their blackboard to repost the local area meeting time. It's always on their board and I noticed that it wasn't so I wrote it in.

This is about the dialogue that occurred (bear in mind I'm venting here!). He sees me, his eyes light up red like a bull charging a toreadora and yells "You're the one I have to see!"

"What did I do?" I asked, since I could see he was madder than a wet hen.

"This ain't your group and don't you EVER write on our board and if you do I'll hunt you down and . . . . " Well, you get the idea.

I apologized, stating I shouldn't have written on their board. (I guess I feel so comfortable there that I would write on their board and not think about it, but that's my stuff, not his.) Then he followed me into the meeting room in front of a bunch of newcomers and kept yelling and screaming and ranting. Then he went into the kitchen, where I followed him and said "Is there something besides this between us?" I could almost sense that this wasn't about writing on their board.

"No," he said, winding up again. He started yelling about "We ran that SOB away from here because he kept hitting on the newcomers and now he's up at your group f----- it up so you go up there with your anti-smoking bullshit and f--- that place up but stay away from here."

"That has nothing to do with me," I told him, and walked away. He followed me into the meeting room and started in again about a controversy at my home group over smoking that occurred two years or more ago and I said, "Yup," allowing that had happened, like it was any of his business. Then he said "Yeah, and you lost a lot of membership, too!"

"Yes, we did lose a few members," I said. I turned around, walked outside and waited for my friends to arrive who were chairing the meeting. I told them what happened and stood with them to calm down for a minute and so I wouldn't cry. I hate when asses make me cry. I refuse to give them that much power.

I guess this is my point. These ------ who won't rant at women when there's men around to intercede are really pathetic. Second, people who rant like that in front of newcomers have way more problems than whether I had the audacity to write on the group's precious board.

It's funny, when this stuff happens to me, and it rarely does, it really does throw me for a few minutes, I guess because it stimulates a whole bunch of pre-clean bull that occurred in my life. The other thing that is truly scary is that I absolutely will not back down from rage like this, or at least I never have. I refuse. I didn't back away from bullies when I used and I'm not going to back away from bullies now. I do understand the untreated rage aspect of it. I just today feel sorry for him and hope that he gets some help. I wonder if he yells at his wife of many, many years that way? Probably.
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I'm not saying (adding this after dear Meg's post) that all women should stand up to those who rage. I think it depends on what your gut tells you. I've been around people who I can tell are psychotic and truly dangerous and when they rage and I leave.

My friend Wendy who arrived a few minutes after this incident and she has worked in male prisons for years and truly understands batterers, emotional or otherwise. She was really supportive and as I recall as I was in a major adrenalin dump at the time she arrived, said, "They do this because they CAN."

She's right. I'll just wager if my boyfriend had been there it wouldn't have come down that way. Also interesting is that one of my home group members, another man, sat through the entire ranting incident and said not one word like "Calm down." After he watched the entire incident, he just got up without a word and left.

Anyway, I managed to pull myself together because I had to speak, but believe me if I hadn't had that commitment I would have left and gone home. That member stayed the entire meeting smoking about two seats from me and interjecting from time to time, listened to me share and seemed to calm down. After the meeting he explained that while he's 3/4 Irish, the 1/4 German won't let him forgive people. Hm, I guess that was the closest to an apology I'll ever get.

So, I'll go there tomorrow to the noon meeting, talk to some of the other officers of the club to make amends for writing on the board, and that's that. (I do admit to my fantasy amend -- I will write my amend on their bulletin board!) But I can guarantee you this. I have one more poor soul on my prayer list!

There's one thing, though, that I really like about myself. I am almost unable to stay mad at people. It just doesn't seem to be in my nature. So when it's over, and I've processed it often through my own venting and sometimes sleepless nights, then it's over.

I would be interested to hear from you on this topic. Perhaps you've noticed or experienced this sort of thing and if so, how did you handle it? Until tomorrow, stick with the winners (you'll know which ones they are after you observe their behavior for awhile).

Everything has a beginning, a middle,

and an end. Molly Ivans met her end on January 31, 2006. What I loved about Molly was her incredible passion, whether it was for politics or people. In a column she wrote in September only months before she succumbed to cancer, she wrote this in memory of Anne Richards, former Texas governor and hellcat Dem.

"One of the most moving memories I have of Ann is her sitting in a circle with a group of prisoners. Ann and Bullock had started a rehab program in prisons, the single most effective thing that can be done to cut recidivism (George W. Bush later destroyed the program). The governor of Texas looked at the cons and said, "My name is Ann, and I am an alcoholic."
She devoted untold hours to helping other alcoholics, and anyone who ever heard her speak at an AA convention knows how close laughter and tears can be.

"At a long-ago political do . . . in Austin, everybody who was anybody was there meetin' and greetin' at a furious pace. A group of us got the tired feet and went to lean our butts against a table at the back wall of the bar. Perched like birds in a row were Bob Bullock, then state comptroller, moi, Charles Miles, the head of Bullock's personnel department, and Ms. Ann Richards. Bullock, 20 years in Texas politics, knew every sorry, no good sumbitch in the entire state. Some old racist judge from East Texas came up to him, 'Bob, my boy, how are you?"

Bullock said, 'Judge, I'd like you to meet my friends: This is Molly Ivins with the Texas Observer.'

e judge peered up at me and said, 'How yew, little lady?'

Bullock, 'And this is Charles Miles, the head of my personnel department.' Miles, who is black, stuck out his hand, and the judge got an expression on his face as though he had just stepped into a fresh cowpie. He reached out and touched Charlie's palm with one finger, while turning eagerly to the pretty, blond, blue-eyed Ann Richards. 'And who is this lovely lady?'
Ann beamed and replied, 'I am Mrs. Miles.'"

Clearly, Molly loved her friends.

Ivans wrote a hilarious column when she worked for the New York Times covering a chicken-killing festival. When she called it a "gang pluck" that was too much for the Times. She went back to Texas and after several stints with other papers, she ultimately syndicated her columns, writing mainly about politics using her "Texisms."

My absolutely favorite line of hers best sums up her life. 'Keep fightin' for freedom and justice, beloveds, but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin' ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was.'

Lessons in Life

LESSONS IN LIFE

By Regina Brett

The Plain Dealer

Cleveland, Ohio

To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written. My odometer rolls over to 50 this week, so here's an update. [I love this advice and have highlighted a few that really apply to us, at least to me!]

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

16. Life is too short for long pity parties. Get busy living, or get busy dying.

17. You can get through anything if you stay put in today.

18. A writer writes. If you want to be a writer, write.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Over-prepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: "In five years, will this matter?" [Or as the Alanons say, "How important is it?"]

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

33. Believe in miracles. [Who of us doesn't?]

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.

35. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood. Make it memorable.

38. Read some good books. They cover every human emotion.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

41. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

42. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

43. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

44. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

45. The best is yet to come.

46. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

47. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

48. If you don't ask, you don't get.

49. Yield.

50. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

My sponslings . . .

Some days it feels like this is me with my sponslings just gliding along. Other days, it's my sponslings gliding along with me on their backs! Thank God for the women in my life. I am truly humbled and grateful. One thing that has struck me this year. You don't just have "time" in the program; with it comes responsibilities.