Daily Reprieve

From Courage to Change of Sep 15:

Night after sleepless night, I tossed and turned and worried. Why couldn’t I sleep? What was the matter with me? My life was stressful, but no more so than usual. I’d tried hot milk, reading in bed, soft music, even a visit to the doctor, but still I couldn’t get more than a few hours sleep. I was in a panic!

I spoke about my concerns in an Al-Anon meeting, and another member related a similar problem. What had helped him was to accept the situation fully and admit that he was powerless to make himself sleep. In retrospect, he said, his sleeplessness had been a blessing; it had kept him too tired to get into trouble.

I realized that the same was true for me. Instead of worrying compulsively about a loved one’s sobriety, watchful and nosy despite many attempts to mind my own business, lately I’ve been too tired to be overly involved in anything that wasn’t my concern. I had often prayed to be released from my obsessive worry, and now, in an unexpected way, my prayers seem to have been answered.

Today’s Reminder

My Higher Power’s gifts sometimes take unusual forms. Perhaps something I regard as a problem is really a form of assistance.

“Nothing is either good or bad. It’s thinking that makes it so.” – William Shakespeare

END OF QUOTE—————————————

My problem is the opposite of sleeplessness. In this season of life, sleep has become my greatest solace. I live alone, save for a cat who waits sweetly—if somewhat morbidly—to one day feast on my silent, non-breathing carcass. Within this private realm of rest, I pray. I seek connection. I don’t feel lost in depression, but rather suspended—sleep loosens the grip of my obsession with reaching the Infinite One.

Recently my ACA Sponsor sent me a YouTube video of Alan Watts titled No Friends, No Lovers, Just God and the Man Who Believes. Watts, for all his eloquence, never performed the kind of miracles that would convince me of his spiritual ascension. He was married three times, fathered seven children, and struggled with alcoholism until his death at 58. He also experimented with marijuana, LSD, mescaline, and—less certainly—psilocybin mushrooms. Though he wrote and lectured on the mystical potential of these substances, he warned against clinging to them, likening psychedelics to a telephone: useful for receiving a message, but pointless to keep “holding onto after the message has been delivered.”

I believe my Sponsor’s intent in sharing the video was not to highlight Watts’ life but his message: that learning to be comfortable with solitude is the first step to knowing yourself and connecting with God. Watts described this as an intense internal existence, where surrender in aloneness dissolves the need for human approval—and where serenity itself attracts others without effort. But to me, his own life does not reflect this ideal. Instead, I hear in it a mystical justification for chemical dependency and emotional absence within intimacy. Harsh? Perhaps. But it is my honest observation.

And here lies the paradox I keep encountering: the Higher Power’s gifts rarely come wrapped in gold. More often they arrive disguised in the ordinary—or even the unpleasant. A sleepless night. An overabundance of sleep. A closed door, an unwelcome delay. What I label as a problem may, in fact, be grace in work clothes. Acceptance is not resignation, but trust: that even this—this inconvenience, this seeming curse—might be the blessing I didn’t recognize I needed.

So I ask myself:

• What if my present discomfort is secretly serving me?
• What if the very thing I resent is the tool that keeps me from falling deeper into obsession?
• Can I thank my Higher Power not only for comforts but for interruptions?

I admit—I hate oversleeping. And yet, perhaps it is not the enemy I’ve made it out to be. I keep showing up, even soul-tired, even unpolished, still trying to be useful. Maybe other “problems” in my life have been blessings in disguise, too. If sleep can shield me from obsession, perhaps another person’s burden hides its own strange grace.

I want to learn to seek usefulness in the unwanted. In meetings, I try to share my struggles openly, giving others permission to do the same. Could it be that sleep is not a thief after all, but a teacher?

This entry was posted on August 27, 2025 at 8:29 am and is filed under Uncategorized with tags Addiction, Alcoholism, Courage to Change, faith, health, Journal, Life, mental-health, Personal, Recovery, sleep, Spirituality. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.