Spirituality

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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.

Fuzzy

I am a creature of habit. I am not as flexible as I imagine myself to be. I am not unique. Sometimes I am able don a guise of pliancy convincing enough to fool everyone, including me, but it is made of denial and pride. Underneath that guise I find myself to be a post-traumatic adolescent in the corner of the room clinging to a threadbare security blanket, crying over the Mayberry childhood that never was.

Part of my disguise is the mien of clarity; the impression that I am willing and able to see things as they really are. I affect a willingness and ability to live life on life’s terms and acuity of God’s will in my life. In fact I still suffer from spiritual blurriness which only improves by applying myself to a spiritual program of change and doing so with those who have gone before me.

I mention this because my sponsor has moved away. I am not yet willing to seek out a new sponsor. There are good reasons to continue working with Jim. He will be here in Boise every six weeks or so (his daughter lives here). We both have unlimited long distance plans and email so it is not access to communication that is the problem. He has taken me successfully through the steps and continues to guide me through the long list of amends I have yet to make. Yet his physical absence has removed some of the spiritual focus that I depend on to live most comfortably in the world.

The power of my Creator trickles through every part of my life. I am able, by taking the steps and by helping others, to nurture that trickle. I am awash in the stream of life. But where I am able to connect with that stream of Life, working with Jim, seeing him on an almost daily basis, was like standing in front of a fire hose. I have faith that that clarity and power will return, that I will soon be back in front of the real power of the God of my own understanding. I have faith that if I continue to seek that I will soon be the one wielding the hose for those around me. I had an expert teacher for that. But I miss him. And I feel a little fuzzy.

Photo credit: BHF February Challenge – 08 Something Old, originally uploaded by TheNixer.

 

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.)

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