History - Part II - The AA Years

The AA Years

The AA years were 1988-1994. These years served a valuable purpose in my life and I wouldn't change them for a thing. I came out of my 30-day inpatient treatment program a changed woman, certain that I had finally discovered what was wrong with me and just exactly how to fix it. Well, of course, how could I have missed it! I was an alcoholic and drug addict and the 12-steps were to be my key to liberation and fulfillment.

There was just one tiny problem. The 12 steps never proved to be a positive force for change in my life. I especially had difficulty with the 4th Step which states: "We made a searching and fearless moral inventory." The initial process of this step begins with listing all your resentments. Only I'm not a person who carries around a lot of deep-seated resentments. So if I couldn't even get started, how the hell was I ever supposed to finish? Still, I gave it my best shot and attended lots of meetings, which were a fantastic social outlet, had sponsors and worked the steps even though I tended to sink into a deep morass of self-pity by focusing on my character flaws. I was already painfully aware of those things!

It's my belief that the steps are a great recovery model for the personality type described in the Big Book of AA:

Selfishness - self-centerdness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Driven by hundred forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking and self-pity, we step on the toes of our fellows and they retaliate.

So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. They arise out of ourselves and the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot, though he usually doesn't think so.

Here I was, a young woman with a stunted if not fully crippled ego structure, who was all too eager to take 100% of the blame for my troubles. Why, it would just be way too painful to think that maybe there were other circumstances and people in my life who may actually have contributed to the state I found myself in. So I found the perfect venue to fly right over all that painful stuff. At what cost to my soul I am only now making friends with.

But, remember, I was a changed woman, sure that I had found the answer to my problem. And so forge forward I did. And you know what? I did it sober. And sober was a whole new ballgame in this little girl's life. So despite myself, I grew up a lot during these years and another great thing happened. I got really healthy physically. Which maybe kept me alive through the relapse years - which will comprise installment #3, and maybe even 4 and 5 of "History".

I'll be on retreat for a couple of days, but will be eager to read your responses when I return on Monday. This is hard work! A girl's gotta get a little break now and then.

Peace to you all.

Eclectic Recovery Would Like to Honor the Passing

of a brilliant, courageous woman. May she guide us all from wherever she is.

Alcoholism, Astrology, Archetypes, and Sex?

My four primary healing modalities in moving away from alcoholism are astrology, archetypes, writing and sex. That may seem like a strange combination to some people, but they're perfect for me. If you're attempting to leave an alcohol or drug problem behind, your three or five or four processes may be quite different from mine. Yours could be golf and religion, or Reiki, Gestalt therapy and getting in touch with your inner child, or maybe AA, creating art and volunteering in your community. Whatever they turn out to be the important thing is to discover them for yourself and intentionally begin applying them to create a life that will be much too passionate, fulfilled and large to have time for an addiction problem.

Now, I didn't sit down one day and say, "Ok, these are going to be my healing venues." It's taken years of exploring different things that came into view and caught my enthusiasm and interest. I studied a lot of different pagan religions and went to a few circles, but that didn't turn out to be one of my key processes, even though I thought it would be. I explored every alternative recovery program I could find, but none of them are a main ingredient in my alchemical pot. The important thing is that I never stopped searching. I was stuck in the "abstinence is the only way" mode for so long it probably took me a little longer than it needed to. One of my hopes for writing all of this out here is that others for whom abstinence may not be the answer will save themselves some time.

I began an in-depth exploration into astrology a few years ago. I'd always been interested in it, but now I really dove in and did a lot of reading and research. I also retained a personal astrologer, Anita Doyle, with whom I meet about once a year. My work with Anita has proven more helpful to me than all the many years of therapy I did. Astrology was my initial foray into reframing my experiences on a cosmic scale. I don't approach astrology on a predictive basis but as a language of the psyche, a poetry for the human soul and a magical way to explore what has made me who I am today. You might even say, if you wanted, that the planets, stars and myths of astrology became my higher power because it's freaky how accurate they are. I discovered that my heart much preferred to view my addiction problem as a manifestation of Neptune conjunct my Sun and realize that there is a higher side of that aspect I can move into. Framing it that way is much more palatable to me than determining that I have a life-long sentence that I can never overcome and that will either kill me, send me to jail or land me in an institution. For all its "out there" reputation, astrology has proven to be one of the most practical tools in my arsenal.

More later on archetypes, writing and sex. Have I got your attention?

Poetry

Can save our world, or at least our souls. These are two of my favorites at the moment. Probably, most of you have read them, but I would hate to think one person might've missed out.

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.


Oriah Mountain Dreamer



and


Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night
with plans and the simple breath
that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness
as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow
as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness
that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day
to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

By Naomi Shihab Nye

Happy and Warm Holidays to you all.

History - Part 1

The story I am here to tell won't make much sense without a litte history, so here's installment #1. These will be very shortened versions because if there's anything I hate it's a blog post that takes me more than 5 minutes to read. I grew up in a small town in Georgia, a few miles from Atlanta, the eldest daughter of three girls. Born in November of 1961, I barely missed the 60's generation and have always been just a little pissed off about that. There was nothing unusual about my childhood. I was cared for, loved and part of a normal, happy, if slightly dysfunctional, middle-class family. At the age of 13, my relationship with my mother became somewhat complicated (yeah, yeah, I know, who's didn't?) and I began to act out with drugs. I started smoking pot and doing some drinking, but I still had lots of other interests that meant a lot more to me than any of that stuff. My parents caught me smoking pot early on and I put it all away for awhile. I picked it back up my senior year in high school and by then it seemed that alcohol and drugs were a way for me to assert my independence, unfortunately having not found healther venues. At 18 years of age, I married a sweet boy and moved to California for two years - a couple of years I remember as mostly happy, carefree and fun. We did a lot of partying, were very much in love and were pretty much clueless about what real life entailed. When his time in the Navy was up we moved back to Georgia and I quickly decided that I was way too young for this married life. At the ripe old age of 20, I was a new divorcee', back in an element where I was comfortable and ready to get on with having some serious fun. Enter a man I will call Sean for this story. Sean was/is 16 years my senior and he was a drug dealer at the time, dealing in cocaine. Unfortunately for us, Sean fell crazy in love with me and I feel crazy in love with his drugs. I'm not sure how I made it through the next 8 years, but I'm sitting here writing about it now, so I guess I did. These years were spent snorting, drinking and running the streets. I did manage to stay employed and take care of myself most of the time, but needless to say, it took a lot out of me. I would go weeks with little sleep, little food and lots of drugs and alcohol. The toll on my health was tremendous and after a few years of this I began to be sick a lot. Strep throat I had several times, bad flu's, long cold's - immune system stuff. I was sick so much I quit my job and went to work in my mother's flower shop. After a particularly nasty binge which lasted a couple of weeks, and in a state of complete exhaustion and guilt, I confessed to my parent's what I had been up to. The next night I went to my first 12-step meeting. It was a Cocaine Anonymous meeting and I met people there that I am still friends with today. I celebrated my first 30 days clean with a nice pitcher of magaritas. It's 1986 now, and the next two years were spent in going to meetings, staying clean and sober for awhile and then relapsing. I began to feel that something really must be wrong with me, as other people seemed to find a "home" in the 12-step rooms, and while my intentions were good, it just wouldn't seem to stick on me. Everyone was entering "spa" treatment programs then and I decided this was what I needed. In July of 1988 I attended a 30-day inpatient treatment program and began a period of sobriety that would last six years. I fully immersed myself in AA culture and belief and it worked - for awhile.

Alcoholic or Adolescent Acting Out?

When I let go of the belief that my alcoholism was a disease - something I would have to live with for the rest of my life - I wasn't fully aware where that would take me. That's probably a good thing because I'm not sure I would've had the courage had I known exactly what it would entail. When I chose to quit hiding behind a victim mentality, which is what the disease concept became for me, I had to face up to some hard truths. If I didn't have a disease , well, just what the hell had I been doing with all that crazy drinking behavior?

Hard truth #1 was admitting that I had been running around playing out all the drama and unresolved issues from my childhood in a very destructive and hurtful manner. If you think it was easy to admit to myself that a lot of my adult life has been spent in acting out like a 14-year old, think again. No wonder I tried to run back to the somewhat comforting belief that alcoholism was a disease from which I could never fully recover and for which I really couldn't be held responsible.

I had another hard truth to face up to. I used my alcoholism as a test for people in my life. Could you continue to love me if I went on three-day binges in which I would totally withdraw into an isolated realm of self-imposed destruction? Would you still be there if you knew what I did in the confines of my own home - drinking, passing out, drinking, passing out until I could finally drink no more? This truth was even harder to face than the acting out, because until I was confronted with it, I had no idea I was doing this to people in my life. Really, no idea whatsoever. But as soon as my teacher brought it to my attention, I realized it was true. And I hated that about myself.

Which is where, of course, radical forgiveness comes in. The only way I can really move forward through these realities is to fully and finally forgive myself. That entails a lot of contemplation, a lot of prayer, and a lot of tears!

I also have gotten tremendous help here on the physical plane. I'm amazed how once I opened myself up to getting brutally real about my alcoholism, support popped up from all over. Teachers, friends, mentors, ideas, concepts, books, cd's (oh! and don't forget the kitties) - everywhere I turned I was given all I needed to move through this process and begin to heal.

I'd like to end this post with deep gratitude for all that support - support I continue to receive on a daily, sometimes momentary basis. As corny as it sounds, it really is the wind beneath my wings. You know who you are.

Sacred Sunday - The Jagged Edge

Radical Recovery. That's the term Lillian and Murdoch MacDonald use in their book, Phoenix in a Bottle, for their recovery from alcoholism. Why is it radical? It's radical because despite all the commonly accepted beliefs that society has been fed about alcoholism, these two people found a way up and out of it and they feel no need to abstain from the occasional libation. Among the beliefs they have discarded are the following:'

Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.

Alcoholism is an incurable, progressive and fatal disease.

The only way to recover from alcoholism is through abstinence.

All alcoholics are egocentric, ruthless and care only for themselves.

If you're lucky and you confess all your character defects and all the rotten things you've done in your life, you may have a spiritual awakening which will grant you a daily reprieve from alcoholism. However, it is always there, waiting in the wings to once again take control of your life and lay it to waste.

I've been dancing around this issue for awhile now for several reasons; not the least of which was the vitriol directed at me when I admitted to a drinking episode several weeks ago. But the time has come for me to take a stand and I'm finally ready to do it.

In the past few weeks, I, too, have discarded all the beliefs listed above. It's been a painful, sometimes excruciating, but ultimately liberating process. I've ridden the jagged edge of every belief I ever swallowed - hook, line and sinker - without ever asking msyelf if it was true for me.

I've raged and cried and yes, I've even gotten good and drunk a couple of times, but I've continued to ruthlessly examine every single concept I once held as true. As I've done so, I've released myself from guilt that never belonged to me; I've found honor and respect for the hard journey I've been on and I've stepped into the full essence of what it means to be me, Angela, here on this planet at this time. In the process, I've experienced drinking as an enjoyable accompaniment to life - as something I can choose to do without fear of slipping into full blown alcoholism. I finally get what they mean when they say that the power we need lies within. It's always been there, but it had to be excavated - slowly, painstakingly and with great tenderness.

And yes, it's an ongoing process, but I feel I'm through the bulk of it and am ready to begin sharing it - without fear of retribution - without regret. Because it just might be possible that someone else out there could use a fresh message around this problem. And if one person could be saved years of needless suffering, well, that would be good enough for me.

My goal is no longer abstinence from alcohol. I am joining Lillian and Murdoch in being satisfied with nothing less than Radical Recovery.

Accidentally Green

When I moved to Montana it wasn't with the intention of creating a more "green" life. But that's exactly what's happened and I couldn't be happier about it. I figured my carbon footprint here: carbonfootprint.com and mine came in at 12.245 tons of CO2 per year, well below the average of 20 tons. I figure it's even a little lower because some of the questions, like: "Do you eat red meat?" I answered yes to, but the red meat I'm eating is a deer that my friends killed and we all processed over the weekend.

Why is my footprint lower? Here are some reasons:

I drive a Toyota Corolla and I only drive about 1500 miles a year.

I eat probably 90% local organic produce.

I buy a lot of my clothes and household appliances second-hand.

I wash in cold water.

I don't have a dishwasher (now, that one was really an accident, but I've turned washing dishes into a meditation opportunity!)

Most people aren't aware that one of the biggest energy sucks in our society is the food industry and how we as individuals choose to shop, cook and eat. In "The Balanced Plate", by Renee Loux, she talks about this:

In the last 50 years, however, the food industry has radically changed. This change not only pervades the growing of food but also the processing, distribution, politics and consumption of food. Farm productivity has increased 80 percent since 1960, butu the population living and working on farms has dropped from 40 percent to 2 percent. Family-run farms are on the verge of extinction, and in today's global economy, the dependence on seasonal, regional food no longer exists. Moreover, modern farming has truncated tried-and-true systems with a chemical revolution. We are growing more food on less land with higher profit margins, lower prices, and the loss of a majority of the once prolific varieties of any given food for two, three or maybe four standard varieties, which dominate the market without contest.

And if like me, you're interested in why we should be concerned about that, I'll offer another quote from "Diet for a New World" by John Robbins:

Less than half the harvested agricultural acreage in the U.S. is used to grow food for people. The majority of it is used instead to grow livestock feed. . . . It takes sixteen pounds of grain to produce a feedlot of beef. It takes only one pound of grain to produce a pound of bread. It is hard to grasp how immensely wasteful the feed conversion ratio for beef is. By cycling our grain thorugh livestock and into beef, we end up with only 6 percent as much food available to feed human beings as we would have if we ate the grain directly. If Americans reduced their red meat consumption by 10 percent, enough grain would be saved to feed sixty million people!

I highly recommend both of these books for anyone interested in becoming more aware of how our individual choices can make a big difference in healing our planet as well as ourselves. The agricultural methods prevalant today lay waste to the land and produce food with little to no nutritional value.

Oh, and if you're wondering about heart attack, cancer, osteoporosis, ADHD and ADD, you can find the reasons for it by researching the food industry, the beef and dairy lobbies and taking a good look at what's on your dinner plate.

I did really well with my first deer processing experience. That is until they brought that carcass out that you see in the picture - at which point I had to take a serious break. Peggy & Tom were real understanding about it though and took over until I could get back in there with them. I have enough meat to last me until next year. All it cost me was the gas to drive to Peggy & Tom's and the small amount of beef and pork to add to the burger and sausage to provide some fat. And not only that, I feel a deep sense of gratitude for the sustenance my little buck is going to provide me over the next year and I feel very connected to this food. We tested the breakfast and italian sausage yesterday morning and it was so good! I've got roasts, tenderloin, fajita strips, stew meat, burger and sausage. It's healthy meat and there was no extreme energy suck to the planet to produce it.

This week I've decided to go one step further in the "greening" of Angela. I'm going to start composting. Look forward to more appetizing photos in the future!

I invite you to visit Renee's fabulous website to begin your own personal exploration in going green, eating well and helping save the planet.

Please tell me about your "greening" experiences and any resources you know of for further education. Thanks, ya'll!

A Lesson in Expectations

Sometimes the Universe serves up lessons on a silver platter, seemingly custom made for us. I got one of those this past weekend. I planned an open house for my new business in which I represent a collective of Montana artists on an etsy site. The etsy site has been slow getting going and I really wanted to get some work sold for the three artists I'm currently working with. For two weekends I worked on my house pretty much non-stop - mopping, scrubbing, sweeping, polishing, decorating. I sent e-mails, put flyers out and told everyone I could think of about the open house.

The event was planned for Sunday afternoon and as the time approached I felt so confident that it was going to be a success. I wouldn't even have called this "expectation" at the time because I entertained no thought of a less than stellar event. I did everything right - even the astrology looked good for it and it never occurred to me that the response wouldn't be excellent.

The open house began at 2:00. At 3:00 when only one person had shown up I began to get a little nervous. I ended up with only a dozen guests in three hours and a dismal amount of sales. Suddenly I was face to face with how much it hurts when expectations are not met and how it would have been good to have been prepared for a different outcome.

When I did my yoga Sunday morning, I offered the entire day to the service of my community, the artists I work with and to Spirit. But by the end of the day it was painfully apparent that I only wanted to offer it as a success. Yesterday I wrote the artists to let them know how it went. Ouch. I even rallied and decided that maybe I could salvage it by inviting all my friends and my Monday morning yoga class to lunch - I mean the house was still gorgeous, I still had food and everything was still out just waiting to be purchased. Three people came and no additional sales were made.

On a side note, it's very interesting to me who buys and who doesn't. It is the people who don't necessarily have a lot of disposable income that will usually come through. When I attend something like this, I always go prepared to spend money to support the event - even if it's only $10. It just seems like a good way to spread the wealth. If I don't want to spend money or don't have it, I usually don't go. So it was interesting to me that of the 12 people that came, the ones with the appearance of having the most money didn't spend a dime. Some of my dear friends, ones I know are struggling financially, bought a card or a candle or just some little something and I appreciate that so much. Some people don't even look at the stuff - I think they just come for the food!

This is an ongoing lesson for me. I've wanted to feel much more of a sense of community than I do from several groups I'm involved with. I like to get out and support people, to boost them up and in the process hopefully take us all to the next level with whatever we're doing - writing, yoga, business, art. But I expect it to be returned. And I keep getting slapped right in the face with that expectation over and over.

I'm also facing that this business, the way it's structured right now, won't work for me. I'm doing a tremendous amount of work and since none of the art is actually mine, I won't ever make enough to even cover my expenses. I am currently re-thinking the whole thing but am not prepared to give up on my commitment to the artists yet.

I'd like to know what ya'll think - how do you handle expectations, how do you make yourself vulnerable without fear? How do you decide that it doesn't matter who or what responds to your best efforts and trust that in the long run someone will notice? How do you truly offer yourself in service with no expectation of the results?

I'd also like to thank Claudia and Julie for coming over early and helping me out with some last minute details. If it weren't for some of my very good friends, I would be experiencing a lot more disappointment.