Hope

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The Tao of Texaco

January 13, 2008 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 5 comments

Yield and overcome; bend and be straight; empty and be full; wear out and be new; have little and gain; have much and be confused. Therefore wise men embrace the one and set an example to all. Not putting on a display, they shine forth. Not justifying themselves, they are distinguished. Not boasting, they receive recognition. Not bragging, they never falter. They do not quarrel so no one quarrels with them. Therefore the ancients say, “Yield and overcome.” Is that an empty saying? Be really whole and all things will come to you. (verse 22. tr. Gia Fu Feng)

Clearly (clearly) there remains much for me to overcome and much for me to yield to; much to harmonize my personal will with the natural harmony and justice of Nature, what I refer to as God. ‘The World is ruled by letting things take their natural course. It cannot be ruled by going against nature or arrogance.’ (Tao Te Ching; Verse 48).

As an alcoholic and addict, even in recovery, I find myself forever in opposition the the natural order of things. I am “almost always in collision with something or somebody, even though [my] motives [are] good.” I have the delusion that [I] can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if [I] only manage well.” “[E]ven in [my] best moments (I am) a producer of confusion rather than harmony.”

Not all of the character defects of a lifetime of addiction are gone yet, but I “have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. To show other alcoholics (and addicts, especially crystal meth addicts) precisely how [I] have recovered is the main purpose of this [blog].” I share my experience, strength and hope with readers here to aid me in the path of my own recovery and hopefully to help other addicts find or improve theirs. It is plain to anyone who read me one year ago today that I am hardly recognizable as the same person. That change came about by taking simple steps, which embody simple, specific, spiritual principles. I took those steps in specific order. I learned to practice those principles in sequence. I do it in the loving guidance of someone who did exactly the same thing before me as he was taught by someone before him.

In the process many of my major character defects have lessened if not been removed entirely, just as the obsession to get loaded was removed. “There is a long period of reconstruction ahead.” I was struck sober, not perfect. I still suffer from a compulsion to be ‘right’. I still become hopeless. I still fear change. I still seek recognition and fear discovery. I am still judgmental, unkind, faithless; just not as much today. I lack perfect ability to at all times put into practice the principles I have been taught. But when these things do crop up I have tools to handle them.

The path I follow, the Tao of the Texaco if you will, are the steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and the principles (or virtues, as they are sometimes called) they teach. There are various interpretations of the steps and lists of their underlying principles. The one I use is the one that was taught to me by my sponsor, who’s sponsor taught him, and so on, all the way back to someone I personally know who has been sober 37 years and who received it from someone before him. Corresponding with each step, those principles are:

  1. Honesty
  2. Hope
  3. Faith
  4. Courage
  5. Integrity
  6. Willingness
  7. Humility
  8. Brotherly Love
  9. Justice
  10. Perseverance
  11. Spirituality
  12. Service

And I don’t know about any other serious addict but the thing that set me on this path, most honest thing I ever told my self and could no longer deny was, “I’m fucked.”

The Tao of Texaco, originally uploaded by Todd Robert Petersen.

There’s a Light in the Darkness

January 3, 2008 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 6 comments

We should learn just to stick our hand out and whoever it touches that is alone, engage them, in whatever way is helpful. There is joy to be had, in that.
- Anonymous

gasIt’s not surprising that with the new year there are an unusual number of ‘newcomers’ in the rooms of AA and other programs that offer a spiritual solution to the problems of living. I got sober this time of year. I was in a meeting tonight that was packed with people new to the program and it set me thinking about when I came in.

When I got to AA, life was really not working out. I was at that ‘jumping off point’ that the book talks about. I needed something and I didn’t know what it was. I hoped that I could get it if I found a better shrink or more understanding of myself. I didn’t think I would find the answer to my intolerable situation in Alcoholics Anonymous. I didn’t want to find the answer in AA. I hated AA. I hated the people in AA. But, I had placed myself in a situation which required me to attend AA meetings.

A friend of mine who was there when I first walked in to that first meeting tells me that my eyes never left the floor. She says I bumped into a post. I don’t remember. I don’t remember much about those first meetings except that I hated being there and the people in those meetings kept saying ridiculuos shit like ‘the newcomer is the most important person in the room’ and ‘let us love you until you can love yourself’. At the time I thought it was the biggest bunch of shit I had ever heard. I heard people say those thing but I’d leave the meeting without anyone even saying hello to me.

I kept coming back partly because I had to, partly because it was the only place I felt safe and partly because it was the only place I heard people tell stories about how they recovered from the kind of pain I was in. Having been through it for just a little while now I can see that there were things I did which made the process harder. If you’re new to recovery I hope you’ll take these suggestions to heart and avoid some of the struggle I had coming in.

For example, the first word in let us love you until you can love yourself is ‘let’. We can’t do that when you bolt for the door the minute the meeting is over. We have no chance of getting to know you and getting to care about you if you won’t let us. Hang out after the meeting. If someone spoke and said something which you identified with, don’t wait for them to talk to you. Go introduce yourself to them. Let them know you’re new. Ask us for phone numbers and use them, even if you don’t have anything to say. We don’t want to be guilty of cramming this down your throat so you have to meet us in the middle. You have to reach out. That means more than simply showing up.

The same thing goes for you being the ‘most important person’ in the room. It is our express purpose to show you what we have done to get better. We can’t do that when you run out of the room at the end of a meeting. You have to be willing to let us in. You have to reach out a little. You will find, though, that when you reach out some extraordinary people will reach back with a message of hope.

We’re not perfect at delivering the message, though. We’re only human. Looking at my own efforts to reach out to those who are new I find that I often fall short of the mark. My motives are rarely pure. I have to really check my impulse to introduce myself to the young and handsome ones and make an effort to introduce myself to those who have clearly had a rougher time. I’m not always successful at restraining myself when I want to tell someone that they are, in so many words, an idiot. I am afraid that I still judge simple people rather harshly. I still have room to grow, to practice the principles more honestly and consistently and to reach out to new people. If you’re new to all this please keep that in mind. There is hope. There is a light in the darkness which will show you the way. There are people who will bend over backwards to help you stay sober. But unless you stick your hand out we may not know you’re there.

Photo credit: gas, originally uploaded by beauludget.

Easy never did it.

December 5, 2007 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 8 comments

 

“Easy doesn’t do it. Easy never did it. Nothing worth doing has ever been easy.”
- Unknown

larrymonroe.jpg

That’s one of the mottoes I (pretend to) live by.

There are others, of course, important ones. The more important they are the harder they are to live up to. For example, “Remember who you are and what you stand for.” Like lots of addicts and alcoholics, I have sometimes interpreted that as, “Don’t you know who I am?” I don’t have a perfect track record at that. I’ve been much better at “perfect adherence” to the Great Commandment in my family of origin, “Don’t drink your bathwater.” It’s nice to be able to do something perfectly.

It has been my experience that the great disciplinarians of recovery are tremendous love and tremendous pain. I’ve rarely had any significant growth as a result of love, though. Love kept me in recovery, kept me in the fellowship of other people on the path. It still keeps me in. Tremendous love does help me endure the pain, but there are aspects of my life right now that are so difficult, so frightening and so painful, that I find myself wishing for an easy escape, an easy button, a ‘Take a Ride on the Reading’ card.

I was at a meeting Sunday with a dear friend when she received a phone call from the police that her daughter was in the hospital and had tried to apply that kind of exit strategy. At 15 she decided that washing down a bottle of Vicodin with vodka was the easy way out. Like I said, nothing worth doing has ever been easy.

Great love might keep me in recovery, but great pain drove me to recovery and drove me to doing the work. Pain made me ask for help. Pain made me willing. With hardly an exception, the result of trying something and failing is painful and since I hardly know how to do anything I’m always trying new things. It seems clear to me, though, that God wants me to try. God will allow me to fail. In recovery I get to try all kinds of things and fail. It is how I learn. I rarely learn much from what I do right the first time. Still, I seldom know what or how to do something until I try.

In the ‘Serenity Prayer’ we ask for acceptance, courage and wisdom. Acceptance may be the key to all my problems today, but it is impossible for me to know what I have to accept until I try. And fail. Courage is what is required as I walk day by day through the wreckage of my past and the obstacles of my present. I need to try to change everything that isn’t supporting my happiness and usefulness but I need to try humbly.

I have come to believe that ‘the wisdom to know the difference’ is simply a product of failure and humility as destruction is the product of failure and pride.

Nothing worth doing has ever been easy.

 

You’ve decided you want what I have? Are you sure?

November 18, 2007 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 3 comments

Crawfords Texaco.jpgI went to Gooding recently to speak at the treatment center I went to, which in and of itself was really cool. Even cooler is the fact that out of that someone decided that they wanted me to show them how I’ve stayed sober. And even cooler than that, the coolest thing, something lots of people in recovery never get, is someone who wants me to show them how I got and am staying sober that is actually willing to do the work. I have friends with great sobriety, guys who work a great program, who have only had people unwilling to do the work ask to sponsor them. It must be pretty discouraging. Right out of the gate I have a kid who is apparently in enough pain and fear at 52 days clean that he’s been willing to do everything I’ve asked him to do, to do it on time or early, who calls because he has more work done and wants to get to the next thing.

I suddenly became clear last night that if I’m going to take this guy through steps 2 and 3 later tonight and give him instructions for step 4 I’d better get busy and get my sex inventory done. I had good reasons to crank out my fear and resentments and take them through 7 in light of the legal issue I have coming up. I didn’t want to be falling through the air on faith alone with that. It was important that I have conscious contact with God before I started making amends for that particular set of resentments. Having done that though, it’s time for me to proceed with the last part of the 4th step. I don’t want my sponsee to get ahead of me.

Another great thing about working with someone is having the opportunity to go back through the steps again with someone who is fresh, to be reminded of what it is to be on “the morning side of the mountain” as Donny Osmond might say. Reconnecting with that feeling, rather than just to proceed from where I am, with no point of reference but my own memory, is pretty powerful.

When I took that pile of wreckage and defects to God, when I sent up a flare from the scrap heap of humanity and asked Him to come get me and make something out of that mess, I didn’t expect that he’d make any sort of vessel out of me so quickly. When Jim said, “Now you have a message. Go carry it,” I didn’t think I’d be carrying it anywhere but at meeting level in the near term.

When I meet with this young man half an hour from now to take him through 2 and 3 and to give him instructions about step 4 I know that he won’t be able to see the person that I see sitting across the table. He won’t be able for some time to see the kind, decent and wonderful person that I see. Although I’ve told him already I doubt he realized yet that what we’re actually embarking on is a process of outfitting him to be of maximum usefulness to God and the people about him. I know that he doesn’t know what a blessing he is to me or how he’s changing my life. If he stays willing, perhaps one day soon he’ll be doing this same thing with someone else just coming in and even then he may not understand the gift he’s given me.

Our primary purpose

November 15, 2007 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 3 comments

texaco_main_neill_1930shelena.jpgis to stay sober and to help other alcoholics (and addicts) achieve sobriety. When you’re first coming in, when you’re on the morning side of the mountain, tradition 5 seems like the dumbest or most obvious thing in the world. Duh.
There is a song by Patty Griffin, I’ve talked about this before, called Up to the Mountain or the MLK song, that was inspired by Dr. King’s last speech, the one known as “I’ve been to the mountaintop.” This song has been especially important to me in recovery. Many mornings that song is my prayer. It embodies the power of my turning point, that moment in time when God showed me the truth about myself and my disease and suggested to me that there was another way He desired me to go and gave me the willingness to go there. The power of that song and its relationship to my first step was married in the coincidence of my first sober breath being drawn on Martin Luther King Day.

I couldn’t see in the moment God gave me my first step that the view changes as you climb. All I could see then was that I’d been called to the mountain. In step 3 I made an agreement with God and climbed that mountain in faith. In step 7 God delivered and gave me consciousness of His presence. As trite as it sounds, the newcomer really is the most important person in the room and helping them up is our primary purpose. After finishing my 5th step with Jim the other day he said, “Now you have a message. Go carry it.” Bring your brother up the mountain.

Before today I had never read the full text of Dr. King’s speech. Perhaps I finally read it because I began working with a young man yesterday, showing him what I have done, how I have stayed sober and how I’ve taken the steps. He got home from the Walker Center the day before where he heard me speak and that night, when he saw me walk into a meeting he came across the room and sat down by me. He looked, and by his own admission was, terrified of going back to the life he had before. Since fear and pain are great motivators I suggested he get to work on the steps, offered to show him what I’ve done, shared with him how I found a sponsor and how that has helped me, and then suggested that while he was looking for the right man to work with we could capitalize on the momentum he had and get busy doing the work, before the willingness wore off.

He actually called yesterday. I was frankly surprised. I suggested we meet at the clubhouse I am a member of and he showed up. On time. We read “The Doctor’s Opinion” together and I showed him what I did for my first sponsor for first step work, showed him that it wasn’t in the book, told him that I didn’t believe it was absolutely necessary but what value I gained from it. I pulled out my notebook and showed him what I did for the sponsor I have now, first where I fucked it up because I complicate shit, and where I returned to the actual directions. I showed him where that is in the book. I shared what I got out of doing it. I wrote the instructions down, as my sponsor had for me. Then we went to a meeting. He still seemed frightened, which encouraged me. I saw him again last night at the second meeting I was at. I suspect I’ll hear from him later today. The view from up the mountain is profoundly different.

I don’t intend to detract from Dr. King’s message regarding the civil rights movement in any way, or from the powerful message of his final speech. There is a universal truth in that speech, though, about knowing God and about working to be delivered from bondage in any form. That universal truth, the message of courage and faith and hope, is the message I hope to carry when I share my experience with the next suffering alcoholic or addict. In the middle of his speech Dr. King talks about taking specific steps to becoming free from the bondage of poverty and inequality for black Americans, the same way we AAs talk about taking specific steps for victory over addiction. The first part and last part of the speech talk about the truth of why we do it. I have significantly edited leaving only the most relevant parts that pertain to my struggle to overcome, but I think it merits sharing here.

“I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. And I see God working in this period of the twentieth century in a way that men, in some strange way, are responding.Something is happening in our world. The masses of people are rising up. And wherever they are assembled today, whether they are in Johannesburg, South Africa; Nairobi, Kenya; Accra, Ghana; New York City; Atlanta, Georgia; Jackson, Mississippi; or Memphis, Tennessee — the cry is always the same: “We want to be free.”

And another reason that I’m happy to live in this period is that we have been forced to a point where we are going to have to grapple with the problems that men have been trying to grapple with through history, but the demands didn’t force them to do it. Survival demands that we grapple with them. We know how it’s coming out. For when people get caught up with that which is right and they are willing to sacrifice for it, there is no stopping point short of victory.

If it means leaving work, if it means leaving school — be there. Be concerned about your brother. [E]ither we go up together, or we go down together. Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness. If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him? That’s the question before you tonight. The question is not, “If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?” The question is, “If I do not stop to help . . .what will happen to them?” That’s the question.

We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!

- Dr. Martin Luther King, delivered 3 April 1968, Mason Temple (Church of God in Christ Headquarters), Memphis, Tennessee

pain is not a flower pain is a root

July 24, 2007 in Hope by Chris | 2 comments

Every day I take a bitter pill that gets me on my way,
for the little aches and pains the ones I have from day to day.
To help me think a little less about the things I miss.
To help me not to wonder how I ended up like this.

Useless Desires
Patty Griffin

Corinne says I’m “thawing out.” Nikki says months 6 through 12 are often difficult. Jon (my sponsor) says I have nothing to offer him anyway because I’m not through the steps. Charlatans (treatment providers) remind me that feelings are just that; feelings, not reality. I disagree. Feelings are real, they just aren’t truth.

There was one remaining item of clothing that I had failed to bring with me to Nikki’s yesterday, and therefor hadn’t gotten back to it’s owner. The hoodie. After he went away I wore that thing to bed every night till it didn’t smell like him anymore. When suddenly I had the opportunity to drop it off at the workshop he’s volunteering at this afternoon, I did. I returned the last remaining material possession that reminded me of him. Keeping it around simply made me too sad. He texted me to say he was going to the Y and he’d call me later. Which he didn’t. And I knew he wouldn’t.

This is all advanced recovery stuff. Getting sober is one thing. Recovery is another. I see now that recovery involves learning to have loving relationships. Not romantic relationships, though those may be loving, too, but loving relationships of all kinds. A person in active addiction, I, in active addiction, may be capable of love, but not at all capable of maintaining a loving relationship. So, clearly I’m grieving and rather than blotting out the pain I’m moving through it’s predictable stages. I’m going through all the emotions I used drugs to avoid.

So perhaps the feelings are overwhelming right now; much more so than I would have expected. The pain has lasted so long now that I see the point of Monette’s “Gardenias.”

still the pain is not a flower and digs like
a spade in stony soil no earthly reason
not a thing will come of it but a slag heap

Gardenias
Paul Monette

The pain is pointless. The pain is not even some poisonous flower. It is simply a root. It achieves nothing. It becomes nothing. So instead of loving him from where it hurts, I’ll love him from as far away as I can get. I’ll love me more.
I’ll grow. It will pass. This won’t last forever.

(Just keep telling yourself that, buddy.)

Day 5 – Revisited

January 19, 2007 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 4 comments

The last thing I did before I took the 14 hour bus ride to Pocatello was get high. That’s sexy isn’t it? Shooting up in the bathroom of a Greyhound station? There’s a way to meet quality friends.

So then I’m trapped on a bus for fourteen hours wishing I could fuck the young russian man next to me.

Then show up at treatment crashing. So wow.

But I’m here now and even though I’m pretty post-acute (yesterday especially) I’m doing better. I still don’t sleep through the night. I seem to have to be high to do that. Perhaps it’s just anxiety and it will subside.

I’ll be here at least another month.

Internet access isn’t really available to me so I won’t really be writing for awhile; just something short once a week.

thanks

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