Redundancy

It is pouring rain here today.  I awoke at 5 AM and heard the rain coming down.  I checked the weather about TS Isaac, read for a while and then went back to sleep only to be awakened by a phone call.  I'll be meeting with a sponsee in about an hour to continue further on with his work on Step Four--making a fearless moral inventory.

I can tell you that I want to stay inside the house, finish doing some painting in the garage, take a nap, read a book--and not go out into the pouring rain.  We have been keeping up to date on TS Isaac as it approaches Louisiana.  I certainly hope that the people and their animals and dwellings will be out of harm's way.  This is a big storm even if it is not a hurricane.  I know that I will breathe easier when the end of September comes, and hurricane season is just about over.

Tonight, I will be sharing my story at the end of the month anniversary celebration.  I feel as if I am shared out on it.  When I told it at my home group meeting earlier in the month, that seemed like enough for me.  But this is a different group of people who haven't heard my story or that of another person whose birthday is being celebrated tonight.  I'll keep it short to focus on recovery.  Going back over the painful times is part of my experience but is not nearly as compelling to me as what has happened since recovery.  I am happy to move beyond the past and not dwell there.

I sometimes think that I want to stop blogging.  I have so little to write about now.  It seems that I've said what I wanted to say.  Yet, I am still drawn to our little community of bloggers and feel vested in their lives.  I don't want to become redundant.  And somewhere in the following quote by Scarlett Thomas is a fear of redundancy.  I have to say that among those things listed, I fear so few of them.  I am thinking that I have really learned to let go of a whole lot. That is not redundancy but progress.


"I now sense the howling spectre of something else: layers upon layers of other people's fears. There are misty representations of money burning, of someone being fisted by his own father, of toys that tell you to "fuck off" and then rip out your throat, of the idea that there is no such thing as reality, of someone being abducted by an alien and being strapped to a table in a white lab, of nuclear war, of a child drowning, of hundreds of children drowning, of it being all YOUR FAULT, of choking on fish bones, of lung cancer, of bowel cancer, of brain tumors, of spiders--thousands and thousands of spiders, of a prolapsed uterus, of sleep apnea, of eating, of any kind of sex, of rats, of cockroaches, of plastic bags, of heights, of planes, of the Bermuda Traingle, of the live rail, of ghosts, of terrorism, of cocktail parties, of crowds, of the dentist, of choking on your tongue, of your own feet, of dreams, of grown-ups, of ice cubes, of false teeth, of Father Christmas, of getting old, of your parents dying, of what you might do to yourself, of coffins, of alcohol, of suicide, of blood, of not being able to take heroin again, of the thing behind the curtains, of soot, of spaceships, of DVT, of horses, of fast cars, of people, of paper, of knives, of dogs, of redundancy, of being late, of being seen naked, of scabs, of leap years, of UFOs, of dragons, of poison, of accordion music, of torture, of any kind of authority, of being kicked while you just lie on the ground trying to protect your head until you become unconscious and can't protect yourself anymore."