Much needed downtime.

I still feel so disjointed. For the first time ever, since I have been flying non-revenue with SC’s buddy passes, I did not make the flight which I originally selected. It’s no big deal. I’m in no rush to get home. I’m just grateful I have a sister who loves and supports me, and shares her buddy passes freely. And I’m grateful Navy son is tech savvy enough to have set up my laptop to get an internet connection via my phone so that I have something to do while I wait here, and possibly again in Tucson. Again, that would be no big deal. The trip out here was a whirlwind and I didn’t have time to just “be”. Maybe this is HP’s way of slowin’ it (me) down. Though I am in the middle of a crowded airport terminal, I get the chance to be “alone” with my thoughts and feelings for the first time since I landed on Wednesday.

I’m not sure the realization of this whole nightmare has hit me yet. It is much more real for FW’s wife and children, and for the family and friends who had him physically present in their daily lives. I know that when the reality hits, that I have a support group in the fellowship to help me every step of the way. For that I am truly blessed.

So as I sit here and try to pass the time, I also try to process the interpersonal dynamics of the past several days. It’s amazing to have been sober and clear headed through this. And there is a lot to discuss and process with sponsor and friends. I’m not certain how quickly I will be able to do that. I may need just a day or so to lock myself up and cry. Or I might not.

Guess I’ll just take it one day at a time and see what happens.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Shake-N-Bake for Easter Dinner?

I was blessed beyond measure to spend Easter Dinner at the recovery home that taught me to live life again. It was a small gathering as most of the residents spent the weekend with family or friends. Among the guests were 2 current residents, the weekend staff member, myself, and 2 women (alumni) whom I met my first day in the House. The three of us have seen each other consistently since I moved out of the House a year ago, but we have not spent the amount of one-on-one time together that we had become accustomed to. Both of these women are my Sober Sisters. Women for whom I would move mountains, and who have done that very thing for me. It was dinner tonight with these women that gave me the gift of feeling like you can go home again.

My tears at the end of the movie “Talladega Nights” actually were the catalyst that brought me to this conclusion. (For anyone that has seen that movie this may sound insane. And I kind of giggle at the thought myself. It truly was an awful movie, but the thrill of seeing a race track today when NASCAR did not race was worth the pain of watching.) I knew I felt a feeling of peace within that hasn’t been there for a while after I left the House, but I wasn’t sure exactly why until after the tears had begun falling.

The three of us have very diverse backgrounds. Back in the day, we were people who “normally would not mix”. Our current paths are just as different as our pasts. Life has taken us in what seems at times like opposite directions. By virtue of the fact that we share a connection to the House and have many mutual friends, we have remained acquainted with the surface structure of each others’ lives. Any involvement deeper than that, sadly, has been somewhat swept away by the business of life.

At dinner, as C lovingly prepared her mother’s Bunny Salad, I was reminded of the demons with which she struggles. Her path has not been easy, yet she gives to others without expectation of anything in return. There are many times I wish I were more like her. If I could conquer her demons for her, I would. Instead, all I can do is love her the way I know that she loves me. Unconditionally. It has not always been this way for us. It amazes me to think of how far we each have come in our recovery and our friendship since the day we met over 2 years ago. It was her invitation (and the chance to pass on to her the boxes I had not yet sentenced to the trash heap) that prompted me to accept the invitation extended by the staff member earlier in the weekend.

M was not expected for dinner so it was a wonderful surprise that she should join us. I spend less time with her than I do C, so being able to sit down and chat was a welcome event. She is a beautiful, strong woman whose aura oozes peace and serenity. She has an incredible connection to her HP which bubbles over to how she relates to others. M often makes a point of making one feel very loved by letting you know how often you are in her thoughts. She did just that tonight when she told me that one of her journals flipped open the other day to an entry about me. She had tears in her eyes as she spoke. It was an entry from our trip to Chicago for my father’s funeral. It was something she did out of love and without hesitation and it was my first feeling of true friendship.

So…how does “Talladega Nights” fit here? Sharing the Winner's Circle with a true friend. It gets me every time.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.

Stirred, not shaken.

Oh, I know the quote is “shaken, not stirred”, but in this case, for me, it’s the other way around. I woke at 4:05 AM to a 4.4 magnitude earthquake. Not unusual for Southern California. What is unique is the gratitude I feel …and why.

The obvious why is that with so many devastating earthquakes occurring worldwide, one cannot help feeling grateful to have survived. My heart continues to go out to those suffering in Haiti and Chile. This was just a little rock-n-roll, centered 10 miles from where I am. No life altering consequences for me or my friends. Plenty of opportunity for reflection though.

My blessings are of a different sort. The first two earthquakes that I experienced when I moved to Los Angeles 3 years ago were during the active phase of my alcoholism. I slept, or rather remained passed out, through the first, and the second became an instant drama with which I saw a way to glean sympathy from my family. By that time, though, my family had long since stopped paying any attention to my histrionics. I was an active fault-line in their lives prone to wreak havoc without any provocation whatsoever.

I have experienced many earthquakes since then. A jolt of electricity always ran through my mind and my body, giving way to fear, and yes, excitement. Today, though I was stirred from my slumber, I was not shaken. I was fully in the moment. My concern did not become a vessel to manufacture concern, pity, or attention from friends or family. Instead, I turned to prayers of thanks that this wasn’t “the big one” and prayers for those whose lives have been forever altered by acts of Mother Nature. I rejoice in God’s plan, though I have NO idea what that is. I have a faith today that can be stirred, but not shaken. I wish the same for all of my fellows.

Thank you for paying me a 12 Step call.