Waterwheel

Inside water, a waterwheel turns.

A star circles with the moon.

We live in the night ocean

wondering, What are these lights?

You have said what you are.

I am what I am.

Your actions in my head.  My head here in my hands,

with something circling inside.

I have no name for something that circles so perfectly.

Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks 

There is a kind of waterwheel churning out in the Gulf now.  This one happens to be named Alex and it's creating some havoc not only for the area that will be directly hit but for those who are trying desperately to help with the oil spewing forth.  I hope that it doesn't affect the travel of those trying to get to the International AA convention in San Antonio. 

It's hurricane season which to us here in the southern US means that we start paying attention when tropical waves start forming off Africa.  I don't like hurricane season.  I don't like the forecasts that this will be a bad year for hurricanes.  

Yet, there is nothing that I can do but be aware and make sure that I have all supplies needed in case one starts heading for this part of the coast.  That means that I make sure the generator is in good order and that I have enough fuel on hand. 

Thankfully, we haven't had a major hurricane since Hugo hit in 1989.   We stayed during Hugo and were lucky.  I would probably opt to stay again, but I don't think that C. would.  But with the increased population in this area, evacuation becomes highly problematic.  I heard horror stories of people who tried to evacuate before Floyd hit and were trapped for many hours on the highway during the storm.  I would rather be at this house with its bricks and mortar than in a van filled with dogs and cats sitting in the heat on the interstate.  

But I'm not worrying about what may happen.  I've taken action to prepare.  I am thankful that a storm isn't heading this way.  And I would rather that there wouldn't be one at all.  But having the last 20 days with temperatures above 90 F indicates something unusual is going on.  Luckily, things are supposed to cool down to the upper 80's for the holiday weekend.  

We do have some holiday plans that include going out on the boat, watching some fireworks, attending a party at the marina, and helping clean up the litter left behind at the island where we anchor after July 4.  Last year, the party goers left 2000 lbs. of trash that we picked up.  Most of that was beer cans.  The press ran a bunch of stories about the littering and it got the attention of the mayor and other officials. So hopefully, there will be some marine patrol folks out there to make sure that if you bring it in, you pack it out.  

And if you are on your way to San Antonio, be safe.  I know that I am looking forward to hearing what you have to share about the experience, strength and hope of so many recovering alcoholics in one place. 

Horror movies

I used to watch scary movies when I was a kid.  Frankenstein, Dracula, the Mummy, the Werewolf were my favorites.  Every weekend I couldn't wait to see what new terrifying stuff would come on "Shock Theater".

There was the kind of love/hate relationship with the horror movies though.  That's because in the evenings I would have to go upstairs to my room and somehow manage to make it into the big old four-poster bed without having my ankle grabbed by an imaginary monster that lurked underneath.  I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I summoned up the courage to get a running start and then leap into the bed.  I would then lie still in the middle of the bed, hardly breathing,  with both arms and legs held as tight as possible to my body.  Eventually I would manage to get to sleep and wake in the morning to find that I had survived to greet another day.

I don't watch horror movies much anymore.  The old classics will occasionally come on and I will see Bela Lugosi say "I vant your blood" and laugh.  Or I might see Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster and feel sorry for the pitiful creature who really wanted to be loved.  These movies aren't scary to me now.

The fears that I have today are ones that often are more imaginary than those from childhood.  Thoughts about losing my loved ones, having my wife start drinking again, and other such projections clearly indicate that I am making a horror movie in my head.  I have learned that I don't have to be rigid with fear about what might happen.  I can turn these fears over and trust in a Higher Power that I'll make it through another day.   And the old four poster bed that used to conceal the monsters under its dust ruffle simply stands in an upstairs bed room looking comfortable and beckoning me to nestle beneath the duvet and sleep soundly.

God is busy

I have heard my sponsor say that when things are most chaotic, then God must be busy. I am hoping that is true.  Certainly, when I am in the midst of some kind of chaotic events in my life,  I need to remember that I don't have all the answers.  In fact, there may not be any humanly conceived answers to what is going on.

Last evening,  I felt for the first time in years a deep sadness filling me.  It reminded me of the early days in the program when I felt so lost and unsure.  I knew that I had built up some expectations in an individual and had been let down.  That isn't a surprise because this has happened before with this friend.  The difference was that I forgot the pain of what those expectations can do.  I expected to be treated as I treat others.

So I went to sleep saying the Serenity Prayer over and over.  And this morning, I realized that by shifting the focus back to myself and lowering my expectations, I could get back on track.  I had momentarily made the other person my Higher Power. 

Tonight I spent some time meditating before the meeting.  It was a beautiful evening, and I walked from statue to statue at various spots around the church where we meet.  

And finally on the way home, I saw a huge rainbow arched across the sky.  All of these were reminders to me that my problems are really balanced with many blessings.  When life seems most out of control or when things appear to be falling apart,  that's the time that I connect most with my Higher Power.  I had a good meeting, talked with my sponsor, understood that being a hostile martyr does no one any favors, and let go of my expectations.

Amazing how the deepest despair can't withstand the sunlight of the spirit. 

Home

I picked C. up at the airport this evening.  She had a really good time but was glad to be home.  I was glad to have her home.  I don't think that I am meant to live alone.  Maybe I would get used to it in time but there is something sad about a big house with only one person living there.

Before C. got home today,  I did some tidying up--did the laundry and washed a few dishes.  I don't make much of an imprint in this house in terms of messes.  I use the kitchen, the sunroon, the bathroom, and the bedroom.  The rest of the house and its rooms are hardly ever used or even walked in.  The house in truth is a "museum" for the many antiques that come from both our families.  And since our family now consists of her mom and dad, the house isn't filled with relatives, children, or many other visitors.

All this got me thinking about whether I would stay here if there weren't the two of us.  Having this house and land was like a dream for us.  But I can see that without an extended family, it could become a place to isolate.  It is filled with memories, but people make the memories for me.  The things are reminders of the people who ate at the table, who used the china, who walked on the rugs, and who made some of the furniture.  Without people, the house just isn't much of a home.

So I am glad to have C. back with her laughter and stories about her friends and Nantucket.  She brought me a worry stone from the beach.  That's probably appropriate for me, although I don't worry nearly as much as I used to.  I would have worn out a worry stone a few years ago.  She brought me a couple of shirts from the Whaling Musuem and one of them has a Compass Rose on it.

She barely glanced at the place in the yard where the boat had been put up on blocks and all the work was done.  I couldn't explain that effort to her.  It was a mini boat yard until yesterday. Now,  it is just a patch of dirt in the drive with a few globs of blue bottom paint and some boot heel prints still visible.  I simply told her that it had been hot and hard work.  What I didn't say was that it kept me busy and kept away loneliness until I was too tired to think and would just fall into bed. 

And somehow with her voice calling to the dogs and the sounds of the frogs and night insects, the house has now become a home again.  And the two of us are a family.  I am grateful for that.

Who to trust?

One of the big things that people desperately want when they come to Al-Anon is for the alcoholic to get sober. And that truly is a big thing. But what isn't immediately realized is that getting sober doesn't mean that there is an end to alcoholic behavior and thinking.

Trusting and believing that sobriety is going to solve the spiritual sickness is naive. I can remember wondering how terribly disappointed I was that the "isms" of the disease were still present. How naive was I to think that being restless, irritable, and discontent was going to be replaced permanently with being happy, joyous, and free? That comes for each of us with step work, service, and God's grace.

Trusting is often a big issue in a relationship with an alcoholic. I've heard lots of sharings from people who tried over and over to trust people who were untrustworthy. They wanted to believe the lies and promises about not drinking. And they wanted to believe that sobriety was going to make everything okay. My denial and naivete kept me from the realization that people frequently are going to fail me, lie to me, abandon me, and not be trustworthy.

I think that I definitely prefer to trust others. I am not suspicious by nature. And I have also preferred to believe what I have been told. I think some part of me was hoping that I wouldn't have to be on guard. I was hoping that others could be a substitute for a Higher Power. And that they would make me feel okay about myself--that they would make things right for me. That was dysfunctional thinking both before and in early recovery.

I've come to realize after more time in recovery that trust is something that is earned and has to be mutual. Even in Al-Anon, there are people who I know that I can trust and then there are those who I don't reveal much to. People do the best that they can, but because they are human, they have their failings. If they could do better, they would.

Ultimately, it is trusting in the process of recovery, trusting in my Higher Power, and trusting in my sponsor that have proved solid. I know that by trusting the process of working the steps, I can recover. I no longer have to control, obsess, or be filled with fear.

I know that by trusting in my Higher Power, I'll find my way. I've learned to trust that things will be revealed to me in God's time, not mine. I know that making another person my Higher Power is not going to work.

And I know that working with my sponsor has been an example of trust on my part. Revealing things about myself that I've never told another is an act of trust.

All of this has helped to rebuild my trust in myself and through that to open myself up to a renewed trust in others. I would say that I'm not trusting others to solve my problems but am trusting that there is some goodness within them. This means that I accept the possibility of disappointment, and grasp the good that loving another person gives me.

Nasty work

I have been working too hard these past few days. I pulled the boat out of the water, got the mast down, and trailered it home.

Once there the process began on scrapping the bottom after power washing it. What marine life wasn't removed had rotted. It has been hot, dirty and smelly work to scrape and remove barnacles and oysters.

I removed the 700 pound keel after using every brain cell to figure out how to jack up the boat high enough to let the keel all the way down. Somehow that got done without crushing me or the boat. Once the keel was removed, the worst of the marine growth up in the keel slot had to be removed with a flat bar.

Yesterday was comparatively easy because I painted the prepped bottom for 8 hours. Last night I was so stiff and tired that I wondered how I would make it to do another day of labor. But this morning found me feeling limber again.

I feel as if I have had little time to do anything other than hard labor. So at noon I met a sponsee for a cold soda and talked about the seventh step. I needed that meeting. Being on the island and not having C. there has been isolating. I don't think that I did this on purpose, but work became the focus instead of meetings.

A friend came stopped by the other day. He had been splitting up enough oak wood to fill his truck bed.  It was good to talk to him and simply have another soul who appreciated the labor that was done.  We both commiserated on our aches and pains.  He then left to go home to dinner with his wife.  I eventually went inside, fixed a hamburger, and then fell into bed.

The good news is that in another day or so and the boat will be ready.  And in another day or so C. will be coming home.  It has been two weeks since she left.  In those two weeks I haven't managed to mess up anything and have gotten a lot of things done.  Sometimes the nasty work has to be done.  It's not necessarily what I want to be doing but the sense of accomplishment is making me feel good.

I haven't had a lot of time to think about being lonely.  Only at night when the work is done for the day and I lie awake for a few minutes reviewing my day do I think about my solitude.  I know that it would be really easy for me to isolate and just keep working at task after task.  The persecution of self runs strong within me.   But for today, I'm glad to have gotten off the island, had some Al-Anon time, and am actually going out to a Mexican restaurant tonight.  Whooee! A big night on the town for this fellow.

How could we be any more different?

I wrote this thinking about a particularly bad evening.  There were a lot of ugly insults hurled back and forth.  But in the end, I couldn't beat the alcoholic at her game.  I learned that alcoholism "victimizes the victims".  Yet, after a night of crazy thinking, I awoke to realize that there is a new day and a solution. 

I am slow to anger and you flail me with your angry words.


I can accept responsibility for my wrongs and you want me to be responsible for yours as well as mine.


I have let go of my resentments through an amends to you.  You throw your resentment back in my face over and over. And resent me because of something that you did.


I want there to be trust and honesty.  You keep secrets and hide so much from me.


I have wanted happiness and good times.  You say that I have made your life miserable for many years.


I have a hard time forgetting the harsh words said in anger.  You sleep peacefully and awake in the morning as if nothing has happened.


I am weary and tired of the charade.  It has taken its toll on my heart and my mental health.  I have decided that the best thing to do is to let you go your own way.  I don't want to have you pull me closer and then push me away.  I am not ready to give in to your truths that aren't really true at all.  I am not going to be a victim in order for you to feel good about yourself.

This is what I think alcoholism does.  It beats down the psyche if I let it. It has the ability to warp my reality if I come to believe the reality that you speak.  It can make me feel less than, smaller than, and sicker than any one else if I'm not careful.   I am looking for a solution and a Higher Power that is much stronger than you.  It is within me and it is something that you can't kill. 

Unmindful of his welfare

"Unmindful of his welfare, I thought only of recapturing the spirit of other days." from Bill's Story, Alcoholics Anonymous

I don't know what made me think of this quote today but for some reason I was thinking of how often I have either been unmindful of the welfare of others or of my own welfare.  I used to not be very mindful of my own welfare.  I would often give up things that I wanted to do because C. didn't want to do them.  I put myself in bad situations because C. wanted to drink, and I thought that I needed to take care of her.  I never thought about what I wanted to do.

And eventually the stress got to me.  Even before we were married, there were times when I felt that I couldn't take anymore unfullfilled promises, bad behavior, and unreliability.  And later, after being married, I realized that I was still not mindful of my welfare.  But the balance had begun to shift where I was not being mindful of her welfare either. 

I had slipped over to trying to control through anger, self-pity, and stony silences.  I was not only damaging her but was eroding away our relationship.  It is incredible the lengths that I went to because of alcoholism.  And no where did I have in mind what was good for me or others. 

It wasn't until getting into recovery that I began to not only think about my welfare but the welfare of those around me.  The harm that is done to others because of my insecurities and fears can be as great as the harm done to me by the alcoholic.  I am grateful for a chance to be mindful of a lot of things today, including God's will for me. 

For fathers

I'm not sure what those of you who are dads are doing today, but I hope that it is a good day. Funny that I don't remember much about how I honored my father. I know that I made cards for him, just as I did for my mother. I also gave him presents when I was older. Things like slippers, a tie, or a shirt. I just don't remember anything else that was special about those father's day activities.

I think that my father would relax on Father's Day.  Maybe he thought about his father, although he never talked about him.  He was a man who didn't speak of things in an emotional way.  

In spite of the painful times that I had around his drinking and his criticism, I loved him. He was a good provider and he taught me a love for the water and living things. He grew up on a farm and went to sea as a young man out of high school. He decided that the mariner's life wasn't for him though after he fell in love with my mother. My father liked poetry and had this soft compassionate inside that he didn't project on the outside. It was there though when he would cry over the loss of his sister who died an alcoholic or when an animal that he loved would die. He just didn't let that side of him out very often. Maybe it was his generation or maybe it was the fear that blocked him. I know now that it wasn't about me.

Regret has a way of sneaking up on you. The Big Book says that you won't regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. And I know that I can't relive anything from the past now. But I have those moments when I wish that I could have told my father that I loved him more. All the gifts and cards don't really amount to much when it's the words that really convey the meaning.

So hopefully the father that you are or those in your life know love and will find joy in the day. It's never too late to tell your dad something special or to be something special for your child.

Eating from the garden

The tomatoes have been ripening quickly with the rain over the past two days.  Some are starting to split from so much rain.  So I've been doing a lot of tomato eating.  Last night, I had a bowl full of cherry tomatoes sprinkled with Mrs. Dash seasoning, some pearl onions, and fresh parsley. 

I also fixed some stewed tomatoes for lunch today.  And tonight I fixed my favorite dish Insalata Caprese with fresh tomatoes and fresh cut basil from the garden.  Wow! It was fabulous.  I also sliced up some red potatoes and fried them so I had some french fries as well.  And for good measure, I fixed some baked beans. 

I haven't been particularly hungry since C. has been gone.  I've been eating a light brunch and then a regular dinner of veggies, some seafood, or soy burgers.  It really has been too hot to eat much, especially when I'm working outdoors as much as I have been. 

This afternoon I went to the nearby seafood dock to buy some shrimp.  I couldn't think of anything better to give to C.'s dad for Father's Day. There were several boats that had just come in so I was able to buy 15 pounds of medium size shrimp.  One of the workers told me that harvest wasn't particularly good.  However prices were up because of the lack of shrimp coming from the Gulf. 

It's a tough life being a commercial fisherman.  Shrimpers are dealing with increased fuel costs, competing with imported shrimp, and sporadic catches due to a severe winter.  It is pretty much a dying industry with fewer and fewer boats in the fishery.  I used to go cast netting to get my own but that season won't start until fall.  But there are some good spots around here where one can fill up a freezer from casting for shrimp. 

Today I'm glad to have fresh vegetables and fresh shrimp.  Tomorrow I'll go see C's dad.  Maybe I'll even rest some tomorrow since the boat trailer is now painted and ready to haul the sailboat out of the water on Monday. 

Keeping busy

There was a rip roaring thunderstorm last night.  I sat on the porch and watched the rain come down and heard God bowling some serious strikes up in heaven.  At least that's what my grandmother used to tell me.  It sure does sound like a rumble to me. 

The rain has been good for the yard and the garden.  I didn't have to turn on the irrigation system.  And today it has been threatening rain all day.  I have been working on the boat trailer, busting rust, priming and painting it.  Today I didn't get it all done because it was still wet from last night's rain.  But thankfully, it is cooler. 

I picked a bunch of tomatoes from the garden, and even sauteed some for breakfast this morning. I also made an omelet, cooked some pancakes, and had some vegetarian sausage. It was a filling breakfast but really good.  This week has mostly been cereal and an English muffin.  But since that breakfast I haven't had another thing to eat and am still not hungry.

I have watched a lot of news.  And listening to the grilling of BP CEO Tony Hayward yesterday made me glad that I never had CEO aspirations or desire to make huge amounts of money.  I marvel at his ability to stonewall in the face of so much anger and rebuke.  I don't know whether the venting accomplished anything or not.  The oil didn't stop flowing.  And he didn't give up much of anything.  Seems a bit like the definition of insanity to me: saying the same thing over and over but looking for some different answer (or any answer). 

Tomorrow will be one week since C. left.  Another friend is flying in on Sunday to join the group in Nantucket.  She is loving the temperatures.  I am hating the heat and humidity here.  So when I have all I can stand and am smelling like a field hand, I come into the garage and stand in front of the huge fan.  And I pet the cat who loves me no matter how I smell.  And then I go back outside for some more chores.  Al-Anon says that when I got busy, I got better.  I am better today.  I am busy today.  And I am surprisingly content with myself, the cats and the dogs, and the hermit like existence today. 

Here are some flower photos so that you can see what a green thumb C. has.  I am treating them with care. 

Have a good evening and a fulfilling Saturday.

Principles above personalities

I have been really busy.  But even the busyness hasn't kept me from missing C.  I talk to her a couple of times a day, and she is enjoying her trip.  But she is wishing that I were there, and I am simply missing her.  This morning it felt almost palpable.  I did go to a noon meeting which has helped me to get the focus on myself once again. 

I do love my meetings, but the meeting on Tuesday night was not one that was as comforting as usual.  I co-chair the study group that occurs before the regular meeting.  We meet in the regular meeting room, and we stop ten minutes before the regular meeting.  At this week's study meeting we were studying Step Twelve.  We discussed service and how we practice the principles of the program in all our affairs, not just at meetings. 

After a half an hour into our step discussion, several people came into the room to wait for the regular meeting.  I told them that we had another 20 minutes to go before we were finished.  I also said that the people who just showed up were welcome to join us at the study group meeting which starts an hour before the regular meeting.  A fellow who told the others to just come on up and sit while we finished up then became irate.  I have known him for some time and never had anything but cordiality with him.   He said that he started the regular meeting and was not going to allow us to cause "problems". He said that anyone could walk in and participate at any time during the study meeting.  Then he said that he would make "damn sure" that we didn't keep people out. 

I was stunned by this.  I immediately felt that I had done something wrong.  I felt ashamed of myself for giving any impression that I was excluding anyone from a meeting.  And then I realized that I was doing what I have often done--I take the immediate blame for someone else's behavior.  And I realize that I don't have to do that.  Instead, I can be authentic and acknowledge that many situations have nothing to do with me. 

Even though I didn't expect to have a conflict happen in an Al-Anon meeting, such conflicts happen in regular life all the time.  Life happens and isn't always smooth sailing.  Regardless of what occurs, I do have the choice to practice the principles in every aspect of my life.  And for actions of others that I have no control over,  I can let it go without harboring resentment and rancor.  This happens much quicker than before.  I may feel badly for a short time but ultimately I don't need to be miserable for days.  Misery truly is optional.

Time to produce

I haven't produced much today but the garden has.  I went out early this morning but apparently not early enough. It was 90 F in the shade.  I was covered in sweat by the time I took photos and harvested some veggies.  This is the type of heat that is deadly.  So after walking the dogs, watering the flower beds, and doing some harvesting in the garden, I am back inside and not sure what to do with myself. 

The garden entrance

Cherry tomatoes are ready to eat

The garden this morning

There are a lot of green tomatoes on the vines

The eggplant flower is nice

An okra flower next to a growing husk. 

Last night, I went to the meeting an hour early to meet a sponsee who didn't show up until the regular meeting.  He is consistently late when we are supposed to get together.  I drove an hour to meet with him. He lives 5 minutes from the meeting and "forgets" that we are supposed to meet because he has had a tough day.  So I told him that I was pissed and that he needs to call me if he can't make our meeting.  I told him that it was inconsiderate and disrespectful to not let me know. 

What is interesting in Al-Anon is that those who are in terrible pain and desperate for help will sometimes forget the pain and the cry for help when the alcoholic is no longer in their lives.  Yet, the patterns of behavior that caused me to accept unacceptable behavior and continue to repeat my destructive history would still be there if I hadn't been wiling to go to any length for recovery.  I am one of the fortunate few who was willing and felt the urgency to do the work. 

More beans coming up

Some of the pickings from this morning. I won't be able to play my sexy eggplant joke on C. which sends her into peals of laughter.

I am not sure about this sponsee.  But I will wait and see.  The ball is in his court.  I will keep doing what I have to do to help others.  But they are the ones who ultimately have to produce or recovery is sure to wither.  

A morning at the beach

Yesterday morning, I took my old Labrador and went over to a memorial service for K.'s freinds and their dogs at the beach.  It was a nice tribute with all of us standing in a circle to say a few words about K. and what she meant to each of us.  The dogs milled about our legs and my old girl sat down in the center of the circle. 

Here are some photos to catch the flavor of the event.  There was a little breeze and having it early in the morning allowed the dogs to run free for a while.  After the service we went to breakfast which was good.

The path out to the beach

Flowers along the way

Running and having fun

My old heart dog in the center of the circle

Expressing love all who remember K.

 So far today, I have done the watering of several flower beds and picked some vegetables. I also loaded up three dogs and took them to doggy park. They had a good time there. Tonight is my home group meeting.  I will go to that and have a sponsee meeting before hand. 

I've talked to C. several times yesterday and today.  She is enjoying the beach, cooking seafood, and doing some touring around.  She said that the weather is delightful.  It is still hot and humid here. But I am grateful for AC that manages to cool me down between doing chores outside. 

Hope that your Monday is going well. I'm enjoying this life without a work schedule.  The harness has finally slipped off my shoulders and I seem to be wearing the loose garment of retirement well.

What I have been doing

I have been harvesting vegetables from the garden.  Yesterday,  I watered all the flowers and spent time picking produce.  Last night, I fried some potatoes, made potato soup, cooked some green beans, and had a cucumber, tomato, basil and mozzarella salad (insalata caprese).  It was pretty awesome.

I am missing my partner who is enjoying the cool weather up north.  She said that it was delightful with temperatures in the 60's.  She missed her early morning flight on Saturday, thinking that it was at 6:30 AM instead of 5:30 AM.  I didn't say a word about that as I drove as fast as I could to get her to the airport.  It seems that the airlines were nice enough to reschedule her which enabled her to get a direct flight from DC to Nantucket. She got in earlier than she would have on the other flight!  When she called me, she said that God watches out for stupid people and drunks.  I have always loved C's sense of humor! 

I'm off this morning to head to the beach for a memorial service for K.  There will be lots of dogs there as one of her connections was with those who walked dogs at the beach.  I am feeling at peace about this now.

After that, I'll head back to the farm for more watering and garden browsing.  Life is busy but in a good way.  Happy Sunday to all of you.

Nantucket

It is vacation time for C. who is going to spend two weeks on Nantucket Island.  I am taking her to the airport tomorrow for a 5:30 AM flight.  She is meeting up with a couple of friends from graduate school.  It will be a vacation to get away from the heat and enjoy a beach house and the beach. 

I would like to be going but am staying behind to take care of the animals and the garden.  It is very difficult to get someone to watch the dogs and the cats as well as have someone trustworthy stay at the house.  Because we live out in the country, it is necessary to not just let things go for 2 weeks.  Yet, I am hoping in a few years we can make the trip up there together.  It is a wonderful place to visit. 

I am planning to pull the boat out of the water next week, pressure wash and paint the bottom.  That way the boat will be ready to go back in the water by the time C. gets home.

The heat here has been bad over the last few days.  There has been nothing but a hot breeze today.  So maybe it is good to stay in the AC this weekend, pick veggies from the garden, and just relax in doors. I know that the old heart dog is glad to not be going on the boat.  It is just too hot for a thick coated Labrador even with the boom tent.

I will most likely bore you with more photos from the garden and some news from "up North" over the next couple of weeks.  And I'm still planning to get around to all the blogs. You guys have been prolific with your writing, and I have been a slacker with reading and commenting.  Maybe retirement is making me lazy?

Shame

I am working with a sponsee on his Fourth Step.  He is working through a section on shame in the Blueprint book of Al-Anon.  I can see that this is a tough topic for him.  I remember that it was a difficult topic for me when I was doing my fourth step.  It dredged up a lot of stuff from the past. I've felt a lot of shame for various things in my life. 

The childhood shame didn't occur until I was old enough to know that my father drank on weekends. I was a happy kid and enjoyed playing but was always anxious when my father was home. He worked a lot so it was the days off that would cause me the most trouble. I also heard so much about how great our family was and how we were better than everyone else, that I began to feel shame because I felt worse than everyone else. I didn't feel good about myself and became withdrawn around others. I would avoid everyone as much as I could and mostly read a lot or played in the woods.

When I got to high school, I made good grades but never felt really like I was part of anything. I guess that I actually didn't want to be part of anything much because to do so would make me very vulnerable. I had friends that I hung with but it was a closed group. I remember going to some drinking parties and got slapped in the face at one of them. Acting out to get attention brought me a lot of shame.

College was where I could be anonymous. No one knew me or my family. I still took me with me to college but I could hide it a little better. I studied hard and played hard. I learned there that I could be in an entire room of people and still be alone. It bothered me some, but I just figured that was what my life would be. Because I excelled at my classes, I didn't feel so much shame. I was good at something and knew it.

The years of graduate school were also okay. I did well, published a bunch of papers, got my career going and got married. I learned that the marriage was rocky right from the start. I have felt a lot of shame from things that happened in social situations in which my spouse would act out after drinking. I couldn't relax in social situations and never knew when the demon created by alcohol would arise. Suffice to say, there was a lot of anger in me, and I was ashamed of how I tried to control and manipulate an insane situation.

I also have felt ashamed at how I felt betrayed by my mother's mental illness. She suffered severe depression later in life and had to have hundreds of ECT treatments. She was a wonderful person but was always in a state of denial. Being the only child, I had to care for her by getting her admitted to hospitals, taking her for outpatient therapy, moving her after my father died, and a host of other things that sucked my time and energy. I knew that she had a disease, but I just wanted it to stop and for her to be well again. My frustration at her was inexcusable and something that I have felt ashamed over.

One of the great shames that I had during my fourth step was that I didn't do something sooner to take care of myself.  I wished that I had gotten into recovery long ago. I was trying to manage the lives of others when mine was as unmanageable as theirs.   I felt ashamed that I was so lost. I felt so much anger that it was hard to be nice to those that I loved the most.

I am glad that I am at a place where I don't feel ashamed of the past any more. The concepts of powerlessness and unmanagability helped me to confront the shameful feelings that I had.  I know what happened, but that part of my life is over.  I now have more manageable emotions.  I know that neither the alcoholism or depression were things that I could control. I take care of myself and think about the good things in my life. I have learned that I don't need to earn the right to be loved and that I have a lot of really good qualities.

I am glad to be able to share with my sponsee that shame doesn't have to define our lives.  He too is seeing that the past doesn't have to overshadow today.

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whomever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

from Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi

Finding us in the end

Today has been another long day.  I finished up the series of statistics lectures, met with a sponsee, went rowing for nearly two hours, and got home after 9 PM for a late dinner.  Tomorrow won't be nearly as crazy busy, and I'm grateful for that. 

I have talked with my sponsor several times since his surgery.  He is thankfully doing well. He has a wonderful attitude, and I will go for a visit tomorrow after the noon meeting.  It will give us a chance to have a mini-meeting if he is feeling up to it.

The last few days have been a roller coaster of emotions for me.  I have been happily distracted in my work from thinking about my friend's suicide that happened last week.  I can't seem to shake the feeling that this woman who provided a lot of comfort to others slipped like water through our hands.  There were several people who knew the depth of her depression.

And she herself had been making plans to move to an apartment, and to admit herself for ECT (e.g. "shock" treatments) before she overdosed.  All of this still bothers me deeply.  I can't help but think that ECT would have helped her with the depression.  It certainly worked wonders for my mother who surely would have died without it.  Was there something that could have been done?  I keep asking myself that, realizing that it is such a moot point.  The life is over.  It won't be regained.  I need to move on. 

I know that the solution to this sadness lies in my practicing steps two and three. When I am in despair, I am not trusting that God is beside me.  Sadly K. had said during her last weeks that she had lost her Higher Power and no longer believed.  Some of us can regain our Higher Power by working with others, going to meetings, and reading literature. But there are those who are truly wired differently physiologically who can't seem to fight their way back to God.  But I believe that God does find them in the end.

Having spent time with Hazel, her little dog, in the last few days convinced me that K.'s spirit is near.  Hazel snuggled against me, licking my face, my hands and looking at me with trust.  There is supposed to be a memorial service at the beach on Sunday morning.  I think that going to that will help with the healing.  The beach going dogs that K. so loved will be there.  Hazel will be standing by, ears alert to the spiritual presence of her beloved human companion.

Look up at the stars

I happened to listen to the great physicist Dr. Stephen Hawking's interview yesterday.  What resonated with me were the three pieces of advice that he gave to his children:

"One, remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Two, never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it.  Three, if you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is there and don't throw it away."

I have to say that I have looked up at the stars and into the depths of the ocean and at many wonders in Nature.  But I have also looked down at my feet just to keep myself from falling flat on my face.  But thankfully, I have never ceased to wonder.

As for work, I am engrossed in it still.  And with a greater ease than I've had in many years.  I am thankful that there is much work still to do, maybe now more than ever.  I am still looking for solutions, even when the problems seem insurmountable.  Lamentation is allowed but action is much more meaningful to me. 

And the last thought about love.....well, I am glad that I haven't squandered it.  Maybe I have been a slave to it, but I am glad to have loved and been loved with both furious passion and quiet resolve.  It is sometimes painful but ultimately worth the price. 

They warned me about this

I was in my office at the lab again today working on lectures for tomorrow and Wednesday.  I wonder what I was thinking when I had some doubts as to whether I would be busy when I retired. A lot of people, including my sponsor, warned me that I would be busier after I retired than when I was working. I think that he might be right. I haven't had any time away from the office, except for last Friday.  The lectures are something that I obligated myself to before I left employment, and I'm enjoying putting them together.  So I'm not complaining, just chuckling at the irony of the situation. 

Tonight was my homegroup meeting.  As I've mentioned before this meeting is out in the country, in a beautiful little town.  I like the drive out there.  It takes me through the watery marsh habitats that I love, past some hay fields, and country roads that are overhung by a canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish moss.  Like I've written before, this feels like home to me. 

Before the meeting, I finished up the twelve steps with a sponsee.  I've been working with him for about a year.  He has made remarkable strides with recovery.  It makes me so glad to see someone who was in so much pain a year ago be able to change behavior and outlook.  His wife has now gotten a sponsor and is working the steps in AA.  He thinks her action has been influenced by his change in attitude.  I am glad that he is doing well.

It means a lot to pass on to another what my sponsor passed on to me.  He is going into the hospital for some surgery tomorrow.  The surgery will require some rehabilitation.  Tonight we hung close to him and wished him the best and God's blessing for tomorrow.  I am grateful to have this gentle man who is a gentleman in my life.  And I know that many people will be there to visit him and to offer support after the surgery is over and rehab has begun.  We all have each other's backs through thick and thin.  Some  times I forget that the fellowship is a big family, even though my biological family is nearly non-existent.  We are there for each other, bound not by blood but certainly by love. That is a source of great comfort. 

I will check in with all your blogs when I get a break.  In the mean time, wishing each of you peace. 

A bright day

It's a warm and bright Saturday here. We have just gotten back from a walk along the beach. There were a few shark's teeth collected, a washed up sea turtle that had been necropsied, and a lot of pelicans and gulls. There wasn't another person on the beach.

This place is like a temple for me. I meditate and stay focused on each step. I am set right with myself when I am here. And for the most part being set right with myself makes me set right with all else.

The boom tent is the most amazing purchase thus far for the boat. Not only is it a happy yellow but it reduces the temperature about 10 degrees F which makes the cockpit habitable for the old dog and me. There is now shade and a wind tunnel effect.

We are going to have breakfast, then do some reading, and eventually take a nap. It will be a relaxing day. This past week I have worked on lectures for next week. I still feel as if the harness of my job is on but getting looser. I now come and go as I want which is freeing.

Hope you are having a good Saturday.

Compassion fatigue

AP photo/Charlie Riedel

I watched the news last night and felt myself feeling sick over the oiled birds that were dead or dying from being covered with oil.  I didn't feel anger but so much compassion for them and for all the other parts of the ecosystem of the Gulf of Mexico.  I see the frustration on the faces of the people.  And I'm reading the reports that forecast the vast oil slick will move around the tip of Florida, after trashing the reefs along the Keys, and move up the southeastern US.

But what really struck me were those helpless birds--unable to move, simply trying to fly.  This oil pumping into the Gulf makes me feel defeated.  Granted, it has been a rough week.  But there is something about seeing the birds that made me realize just how much we have messed up this Earth.  We have ripped down old growth forests to make houses and put down asphalt. We have littered beaches.  We have destroyed wetlands because they were "worthless".  And now we have unleashed the worst ecological disaster the country has ever had.  In short, we have shit our own bed and will have to lie in it.

I am realizing that all the work that I have done and many others is meaningless because we can't keep up or combat the tide of humanity that wants to foul things.  The entire scope of the oil spill is hard to take in.  And I've come to the realization that my compassion is suffering from fatigue.  Granted, this has been a week where emotions have been raw.  But the feeling of total helplessness as I watch the underwater cam showing oil gushing forth has given way to resignation and self-preservation through disconnection.  Maybe that's what the constant bombardment of all things terrible on the news does--it wears us out and numbs us because the problem is so overwhelming that we feel completely powerless.  And so compassion fatigue sets in.

Until I saw those birds. And their helpless plight brought back how precious life is.  Every creature, every part of the ecosystem,  deserves better than we give it.  And we ourselves deserve better than what we are doing to each other. 

After forty years, what's next?

Well, there were some forty year milestones in the news and none of them were happy.  First, there was the death of 40 year old Andrew Koppel, who went on a long drinking binge during the course of the day and ended up dead in a seedy apartment in Washington Heights, NYC.  It's thought that he died from alcohol poisoning.  I want to write something profound but the words escape me.  All I can picture is the horror of drinking and dying in one's own vomit and feces.  And yet he talked earlier in the day to the new drinking buddy about his daughter that he loved so much.  Love isn't a match for alcoholism. It gets beaten back every time.

And love brings me to the next item in the news. I heard as many did the announcement that Al and Tipper Gore were separating after forty years of marriage.  Forty years is a long time to be together.  Forty years is a lot of shared history-- a lot of honey-do's, a lot of honey please don't, a lot of hugs and kisses, tears and laughter.  A lot of a lot. 

A sponsee asked me whether I thought that people were meant to marry anymore.  I honestly don't know.  I think that fewer people have the commitment that it takes to weather the hard times. The easy times are the gravy but the difficult moments are the grist in a marriage.

I think that failing to communicate and isolating from each other create a chasm that is hard to bridge.  C. and I still reminisce over silly moments that we've had.  Last night we talked about the time we stuffed manicotti using "cookie shooter" and it shot the stuffing for the manicotti all over the ceiling.  We often bring up these moments that have been shared. They bind us together. 

Even the times when we had difficulties have lost their bite.  C. once hit me in the back with a chili dog when she was angry at something I wasn't doing when she wanted it done.  We can laugh about those things now. And the really bad times are the ones that we don't discuss with each other but let them lay fallow,  because to re-visit them with each other serves no purpose.   

I guess I hope that Mr. and Mrs. Gore remain friends and perhaps just separate.  Maybe with some time and space, they will decide that they will stick it out for the rest of their years.  I would like to tell my sponsee that marriage is alive and well today.  And that familiarity just brings us closer, makes us love each other more, and doesn't drive us apart.

Getting busy

Today has been a better day than yesterday.  Last night, a friend and I sat and talked about K. and reminisced about her.  It helped for us to just talk.  And we wondered whether she knew how many people were missing her.  It all seems senseless and is,  but I have had to let it go and realize that this has to be turned over to God.  I am sure that He has her in His embrace. And amazingly enough I slept well last night.  

The little dog Hazel is being taken care of by another friend.  K. asked that Hazel be cared for in her suicide note.  Hazel was the puppy that K. got after her "heart" dog passed away.  Hazel has some separation anxiety and doesn't like to be left alone or she chews up pillows.  So she is crated at night.  I couldn't help but wonder if Hazel was there when K. was dying.  Maybe that was some comfort for K., but that is another thought that I need not dwell on.

I have two sponsee meetings today which help me to realize the power of this program.  There may be a lot going on around me, but focusing on helping others gets me to a good place.  I am grateful that God has provided another day in which I can see what a great thing living is.  As I've written before,  I want to stay around for the final act and not leave during intermission. 

Many thanks for your comments and thoughts.  We are there for each other.  I like the honesty with which we can express true feelings.  There are days when each of us struggles with something.  It may be a minor aggravation or a truly huge thing in our lives.  But I realize that with my Higher Power and friends in recovery, I can keep moving forward on the journey.  That is such a comforting thought. 

A kind spirit gone

I received a call this morning that a friend committed suicide.  She had 26 years of sobriety but had suffered terribly over the past year with depression.  She was a dog lover, a kind person who sponsored others. She became the sponsor for a young woman that I know who needed her firm guiding hand. That young woman today has several years of sobriety and is working a full time job.

I would see K. walking on the beach with her little dog.  She was a quiet person who didn't open up to many people.  I am glad that she died sober but am so sorry that she was taken to the depths of despair by depression.  I know that each of us who knew her will wonder if there was something that we could have done.  But the answer is that there is no way to know when a person has run out of options and has decided to make the final decision. 

If she had reached out, a dozen or more hands would have been there ready to grasp hers.  But she chose not to do that.  For whatever reason, she chose to leave this life.  I often feel helpless after something like this happens.  I want to ask the why questions over and over.  Yet, I realize that does nothing. I can't take back time or bring her back.  She is gone. Rest easily K.  There are many of us thinking of you today.