Endigar 1090

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 15, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 09:

We humans are wonderfully adaptable. We find creative solutions to impossible situations. One coping skill that some of us develop is manipulating other people in order to get what we want. Alcoholism can create such a threatening environment that manipulation seems necessary. Today, with the help of Al-Anon, we are learning to do more than merely survive, and such manipulation becomes unnecessary and unacceptable. In Al-Anon we learn healthier ways to meet our own needs and to behave toward others.

Manipulation had been a normal part of my life for so long that I forgot how to have a discussion or make a straightforward request. If I wanted someone to do the dishes, I tried to make them feel guilty by telling them how much I had done for them, or I complained that they never did their part. It never occurred to me that I could simply and politely ask for what I wanted, or that I could accept my request being turned down! But I’m learning. A day at a time I’m learning.

Today’s Reminder

Today I am creating a better way of living, free of guilt and deception.

“We can choose to behave with personal integrity, not because it will make someone else feel better, but because it reflects a way of living that enriches and heals us.”
~ In All Our Affairs

END OF QUOTE—————————————

There is a point in every wounded life when you realize the old survival tricks have become a cage. Manipulation, guilt-crafting, silent punishments, emotional fog machines — these were weapons of the weak and vulnerable, forged when the world felt too dangerous to face bare-handed. They were the crooked tools carved in a childhood battlefield where truth was not safe and needs had to sneak through the back door.

But adulthood unmasks these things.
Recovery unmasks them.
Intelligent anger unmasks them.

And suddenly I saw the truth:
Manipulation isn’t clever.
It’s expensive.
It taxes my soul.
It turns me into the very thing I once feared.

Alcoholism trains you to survive by distortion — bending conversations, bending yourself, bending the room just to keep the peace or get the smallest scrap of control. But that’s not living. That’s contortion. That’s the slow self-erasure that happens when you trade honesty for outcome.

Al-Anon, for all its gentleness, is not a soft program. It is a reckoning. It teaches you that every time you manipulate, you are saying one simple sentence:

“I do not believe my voice is enough.”

And that is the lie I am burning today.

Because the ethos of intelligent anger — right anger, clean anger, patient awareness of something that needs to change in my life — is not about raging at others. It is about refusing to betray yourself with trickery. It is about lifting your chin and speaking directly, even if your voice shakes, even if the other person walks away, even if the room shifts.

It is saying:

“I am done dragging people by invisible strings.”

“I will not earn my dignity through guilt.”

“I will not bend anymore — not to avoid conflict, not to get what I want, not to keep the peace.”

Straight truth is the new blade.
Direct request is the new ritual.
Refusal accepted without collapse — that is the new power.

I am not manipulating anymore because I am not a cornered child anymore.

I am a grown man choosing integrity as a strike against the chaos that shaped me.

Today I stop trading honesty for influence.
Today I recognize that every clean boundary is a form of spiritual self-defense.
Today I become dangerous in the healthiest way —
not because I deceive people,
but because I no longer need to.

This is how I build a better life:
Not by shaping others,
but by forging myself.

Endigar 1089

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 13, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 08:

“Just for today… I will do somebody a good turn and not get found out; if anybody knows of it, it will not count.” What a terrific exercise! It helps me to break free of the habit of doing kind or generous things in order to get something back. Only when I perform a loving act with no expectations will I reap the true reward of giving.

I am learning that giving doesn’t have to take away from me or anyone else — if there are no strings attached, everyone stands to benefit. Every good and loving gesture soothes my soul and contributes to a healthier world. These anonymous, positive actions are the building blocks of a flourishing spiritual well-being. My self- esteem grows because I can feel good about my actions. I am engaged in worthwhile pursuits.

Today’s Reminder

Today I will put unconditional love into action. When I give freely, without expecting anything in return, I always receive more than I give.

“I was created in love. For that reason nothing can express my beauty nor liberate me except love alone.”
~ Mechtild of Magdeburg

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: Mechtild of Magdeburg (c. 1207–c. 1282/1294) was a German Christian mystic, poet, and beguine whose visionary writings became foundational to medieval mystical theology.

END OF NOTE—————————————

Alanis Morissette in her Official Music video; “Thank U”

“Just for today… I will do somebody a good turn and not get found out; if anybody knows of it, it will not count.” I learned this concept in my early childhood training in the Christian church. Now here it is woven into my life and death recovery, my world of pragmatic morality.

There’s something quietly revolutionary about this idea. It overturns an old inner pattern — the one that taught me to shape my kindness for applause, or to offer generosity with an invisible invoice attached. Anonymous goodness pulls me out of that gravitational field. It lets me experiment with love that has no agenda, no echo, no expectation.

When I practice this kind of giving, something inside me unknots.
It’s as if the act itself whispers: You are allowed to be good without performing goodness.
And I feel a shift — a subtle, right-hemisphere drifting open — where the gesture becomes both prayer and practice.

I’m beginning to see that love, when offered freely, doesn’t cost me anything essential.
It doesn’t subtract.
It does not diminish.
Instead, it circulates, like breath or light, enlarging everyone it touches — including me.

Every quiet act of kindness softens the hardness around my own spirit. It reminds me that recovery is less about dramatic transformations and more about a thousand small, hidden turnings toward grace. These anonymous offerings are the micro-surrenders that build spiritual muscle. They strengthen the part of me that has learned to stop bargaining with the universe.

And in those moments, my self-esteem grows in a way that feels honest.
Not inflated.
Not borrowed.
Just… aligned.

Because I know I’ve done something worthwhile — not to be seen, but because it is good.

Today, I choose to put unconditional love into motion. To let it move through me without a ledger or a witness. Every time I do, I discover the ancient paradox:
when I stop reaching for a return, I receive more than I ever expected.

Endigar 1088 ~ The Healing Ripple

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 12, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 07:

Alcoholism is a family disease. It affects not only the drinker but those of us who care about him or her as well. For some of us, much of the thinking that has been passed down from generation to generation has been distorted.

By my presence in Al-Anon, I have committed myself to breaking these unhealthy patterns. As I continue to attend meetings, I begin to heal, to find sanity and peace, and to feel much better about myself. I am no longer playing my old role in the alcoholic system, and so the entire family situation begins to change. Ironically, when I give up worrying about everyone else and focus on my own health, I give others the freedom to consider their own recovery.

Today’s Reminder

One person’s recovery can have a powerful impact on the whole family. When I take care of myself, I may be doing more than I realize to help loved ones who suffer from this family disease.

“If one person gets well, the whole family situation improves.”
~ Living with Sobriety

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Alcoholism may begin with one person’s drinking, but it never ends there. It leaks into the conversations, the moods, the expectations — into the air of the family itself. The disease becomes a shared rhythm of fear and control, silence and overreaction. It trains us to think in distorted ways: that love means rescuing, that peace means pretending, that strength means never asking for help.

When I walked into Al-Anon, I did not yet understand that I was part of that system. I only knew I was exhausted. Over time, I began to see that the sickness wasn’t just in the bottle — it was in the patterns of belief that had passed from one generation to the next. By choosing to stay and listen, to tell my truth and hear others tell theirs, I began to rewrite my inheritance.

Healing doesn’t mean controlling the alcoholic or rescuing the family. It means refusing to play my old part in the drama. Each time I choose sanity over chaos, truth over appeasement, serenity over guilt, I alter the vibration of the entire system. My recovery creates space — for others to breathe, for love to take a more honest form, for the possibility of redemption to ripple outward.

I cannot save anyone, but I can stop feeding the cycle. When I get well, the family pattern trembles, shifts, and begins to heal. And sometimes, without my knowing, that quiet inner change becomes the most powerful act of service I will ever perform.

Endigar 1087

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 12, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 06:

Step Five says, “Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.” But what is the exact nature of my wrongs? Is it the embarrassing moments, the words spoken in anger, the dishonesty?

For me, the exact nature of my wrongs is the unspoken, self- defeating assumptions that give rise to my thoughts and actions. These include notions that my best is not good enough, that I am not worthy of love, and that I have been hurt too deeply to ever really heal. If I dig deeply enough, I usually find thoughts such as these beneath the things I feel the worst about. I am learning to examine whether or not there is any truth to these assumptions. Then I can begin to build my life around a more realistic, more loving way of seeing myself.

Today’s Reminder

Living with alcoholism has taken a huge toll on my self-esteem. As a result, I may not recognize how many of my wrongs are built upon a faulty sense of self. That’s why the Fifth Step is so enlightening and so cleansing. Together with my Higher Power and another person, I can even change life-long patterns.

“…If no one knows us as we really are, we run the risk of becoming victims of our own self-hatred. If we can be loved by somebody who sees us as we are, we can then begin to accept ourselves. Others rarely think we’re as bad as we do.”
~ Alateen—Hope for Children of Alcoholics

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Step Five isn’t confession. It’s vivisection.

When I face “the exact nature of my wrongs,” I am not making some polite apology to the cosmos. I am cutting into the infection beneath my skin — the rot of self-beliefs that have quietly dictated my life. “I’m not good enough.” “I’m unworthy of love.” “I’m too broken to heal.” These are not humble thoughts. They are lies. Parasites. They feed on my energy, masquerading as honesty, when in fact they are cowardice dressed in humility.

The real wrong is not what I said in anger — it’s that I believed I had no right to speak at all. It’s not the lie I told to someone else — it’s the deeper betrayal of lying to myself that I was powerless, helpless, defective.

Step Five demands I drag these assumptions into the light. And the light burns. It always burns. To tell another human being what I truly think of myself is to risk annihilation — but that is exactly what must happen. Annihilation of illusion. The small self dies so something stronger can live.

Alcoholism didn’t just poison my body or my relationships — it built an entire architecture of self-hatred that felt like home. I lived inside those walls for years, calling them “personality,” “responsibility,” or “faith.” But Step Five is the demolition charge. Boom. Down goes the false structure.

The cleansing comes not from being forgiven, but from facing myself without anesthesia. When another person looks at me — really looks at me — and doesn’t flinch, it breaks the spell. Their eyes become a mirror that refuses to confirm my self-loathing. That’s the kind of violence that heals — the violence of truth against illusion.

Others rarely think we’re as bad as we do because they haven’t seen the monsters we’ve fed in private. But that’s the secret: those monsters were never real. They were shadows cast by a soul that forgot its own light.

So yes — I will admit my wrongs. Not as a sinner begging for mercy, but as a warrior reclaiming his territory from lies. Step Five is not about guilt. It’s about sovereignty.

Endigar 1086

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 11, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 05:

Sometimes what I do is less important than why I do it. For instance, if I choose to speak up when something bothers me, my motives for speaking will influence what I say and how I say it. If I speak because I feel it is the right action for me to take and because I have a need to express myself, then the focus is on me. The listener’s reactions become far less important.

But if I speak out in order to manipulate or change another person, then their reaction becomes the focus of my attention and the measure by which I evaluate the results.

I may use exactly the same words in both situations, but I am likely to feel much better about the experience if my focus is on myself. Ironically, the results usually seem more favorable that way as well.

Today’s Reminder

Today, instead of aiming only for the results, I will consider taking actions because they seem to be the right actions for me.

“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”
~ Martin Luther

END OF QUOTE—————————————

There is a quiet shift that happens when I stop trying to control outcomes and instead turn inward to ask why I am acting at all. So often my anxiety has not come from the words I speak or the actions I take, but from the invisible agenda underneath them. Am I trying to share myself honestly, or am I trying to engineer someone else’s feelings or behavior?

When I speak from fear, my attention immediately leaves my own heart and goes searching for evidence—Did they understand me? Did they approve? Did I fix it? And the more I make the other person’s reaction the scorecard of my worth, the more I abandon myself. No wonder I’ve walked away from so many conversations feeling empty, shaky, or ashamed. I was never actually with me in the first place.

But when I speak because something inside needs voice—when I honor the inner nudge that says, I need to say this to stay whole—then the holding shifts. The focus is not on changing the other person, but on being in integrity with myself. I am not trying to steer the outcome; I am simply telling the truth as I know it. And something in me relaxes. I become grounded. I can breathe.

It is strange and beautiful that when I let go of controlling results, the results often turn out better. When I speak with clarity rather than pressure, people are freer to hear me. When I stop insisting, I create space for connection.

Endigar 1085

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 11, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 04:

Sometimes I am called upon to accept unpleasant realities. I may wish to avoid disappointments, but I find that the only way to have serenity is to become willing to accept the things I cannot change. Acceptance gives me choices.

For instance, one day I called my Sponsor because the alcoholic and I had concert tickets for the evening, and I was afraid he would get drunk and pass out before it was time to leave the house. It had happened many times before: Our tickets would go to waste, and I’d spend the evening in despair.

My Sponsor suggested having back-up plans whenever my plans involved someone I couldn’t depend on. Plan A was the original night out. Plan B might be to call an Al-Anon friend in advance, explain the situation, and see if he or she would be interested in a last-minute invitation if Plan A fell through. Plan C might be to go by myself and have a good time. This new approach worked like a charm. It was a great way to put acceptance to work in my life.

Today’s Reminder

I no longer have to depend on any one person or situation in order to get on with my day. Today I have choices.

“Consider the little mouse, how sagacious an animal it is which never entrusts his life to one hole only.”
~ Plautus

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: Plautus (full name Titus Maccius Plautus), one of the most important playwrights of ancient Rome.

  • Lived: c. 254–184 BCE
  • Profession: Comic playwright (comedy writer)
  • Cultural Role: He was the foundational voice of Roman comedy.

Plautus adapted earlier Greek New Comedy (especially Menander) into Roman forms—adding Roman slang, street wit, musical elements, and exaggerated characters. His plays were written to be performed, not read: loud, physical, bawdy, fast-paced. He is the grandfather of Western comedy theater.
His fingerprints are on Shakespeare, Renaissance comedy, commedia dell’arte, and modern sitcoms.

DEFINITION: Sagacious means wise in a particularly sharp, perceptive, and insightful way.

END OF NOTE—————————————

There is a particular kind of grief that comes when I realize I cannot control the world around me—especially the people I love. I used to believe that if I anticipated well enough, cared deeply enough, or tried hard enough, I could prevent disappointment. But experience has shown me that control is not love, and it is not safety. It is fear dressed up as responsibility.

There is a rage embedded in that grief — the rage of seeing how long I offered myself up on the altar of someone else’s dysfunction. I called it love, loyalty, duty. But it was sacrifice. It was self-erasure. It was me strangling my own life-force because I feared the consequences of letting someone face theirs.

Control was never about domination — it was about terror.
Terror of abandonment.
Terror of chaos.
Terror that if I did not hold the world together, it would collapse — and bury me inside.

But here is the revelation that burns:

Control is not love.

Control is the death of love.
Control is love weaponized against myself, twisted into servitude.

Acceptance is not passive. Acceptance is not surrender.
Acceptance is intelligence.
It is the reclaiming of strategic ground.

Acceptance says:
I see the terrain clearly.
I will not build my home in a sinkhole and call it loyalty.
I will not chain myself to someone else’s self-destruction and call it devotion.

Plan B and Plan C are not contingency plans.
They are escape tunnels.
They are the architecture of sovereignty.

When I say:

I am allowed to have a life even if someone else is unwell.

I am declaring a secession from emotional codependence.

When I say:

I am allowed to have joy even if someone else chooses suffering.

I am announcing the end of mutual hostage-taking.

When I say:

I will keep moving even if someone I love remains stuck.

I am stepping out of the grave I once dug beside theirs.

The soul-knot loosens.
The leash snaps.
The old servitude dies shrieking.

This is not acceptance as gentle yielding.
This is acceptance as combat clarity —
the clarity that allows me to walk away from burning buildings
without apologizing for the smoke.

When I accept life on life’s terms,
I do not kneel.
I stand.

I stop waiting for rescue.
I become rescue.

Hope is no longer a shackle.
Hope becomes a weapon I wield consciously.

I choose peace — not as retreat — but as territorial claim.

I choose to participate in my life — not as a guest — but as its sovereign architect.

I keep my heart open — but guarded by discernment sharp as a blade.

This is the rebuilding of trust — not sentimental, not fragile —
but forged on the anvil of reality.

This is the awakening.

This is the reclaiming.

This is the Path of the Self Recovered.

Endigar 1084

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 10, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 03:

By the time we reach Al-Anon, many of us are starving to be heard. We bask in the discovery that the Al-Anon rooms are safe places in which we can talk about the things that have been pent-up inside. We share, and the people around us nod with understanding. They talk with us after meetings and mention how much they identify, or they thank us for sharing. Finally we are heard and appreciated by others who have been there too.

This attention can feel so refreshing that we may be tempted to overdo it. Many of us fear to let go of this chance to speak openly, as if it were our last opportunity. But when any member regularly dominates the sharing at meetings, the group suffers.

In keeping with our Traditions, the well-being of the group must come first. That’s one reason sponsorship is such a valuable tool. Our needs for self-expression are real and should be addressed. A Sponsor can give us the time and attention we need to talk about ourselves and our lives.

Today’s Reminder

My needs are important. Al-Anon helps me to find appropriate ways in which to meet them. I will take good care of myself today.

“Personal details are better left to a Sponsor who can lend a consistent ear and keep a confidence — someone who knows all about you and accepts you as you are.”
~ Sponsorship—What It’s All About

END OF QUOTE—————————————

There is something deeply human about sharing ourselves with others who are invested in our well-being. In recovery it is that early hunger to be heard, to be recognized, to be witnessed as real. Many of us arrived to Al-Anon or other forms of 12 Step recovery after years of invisibility — living in homes where emotional oxygen was scarce. Where our thoughts, feelings, and needs seemed to take up too much space or no space at all. So, when we walk into a room where nodding heads say “Yes, I’ve felt that too,” it feels like water in a drought.

The first time I spoke openly and wasn’t met with judgment or dismissal — something in me exhaled. I didn’t know I had been holding my breath for so many years.

That early relief can bloom into a kind of urgency:

  • “If I don’t say it now, I may never get the chance.”
  • “This might be my only room in the world where I’m understood.”
  • “If I stop talking, I may disappear again.”

This isn’t selfishness.
This is the nervous system remembering loneliness.

But I need to remember something important:

I am not the only one who needs to be seen.
Everyone in that room is carrying a lifetime of unheard stories.

Al-Anon teaches me a new rhythm:

Breathe in — I share my truth.
Breathe out — I make space for yours.

This is not silence as erasure.
This is silence as communion.

And the Tradition that the group comes first is not about suppressing individuality — it is about the miracle that we are healed in relationship. Not performance. Not dominance. Not urgency. Relationship.

And this is where sponsorship enters like a quiet sanctuary.

A Sponsor is not the audience for my story —
they are the companion to its unfolding.

With a Sponsor, my voice does not have to be loud to be heard.
I don’t have to rush.
I don’t have to hold the room.
I don’t have to fear vanishing.

There is room for me.

The spiritual movement in this Step is trust.
Trust that there will be time.
Trust that my voice has a place.
Trust that I do not have to fight to exist anymore.

And I discover what might be the most healing concept of my positive selfishness:

“My needs are important.”

Not at the expense of others.
Not instead of others.
Not louder than others.

Just: important.

So today, the practice becomes:

  • I speak honestly, but I do not cling.
  • I let others speak, and I learn to listen for God in their voices.
  • I allow sponsorship to hold what is too heavy for the group to carry.
  • I trust that I do not have to disappear in order to belong.

I don’t have to dominate the room to be real.
I don’t have to stay silent to be safe.
There is room for me — and for others — in the same breath.

Today, I take good care of my voice — and I take good care of the room.

Endigar 1083

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 8, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 02:

Step Two states that we “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” Recently at a meeting I heard someone paraphrase this Step in a way that perfectly described my own experience: “First I came, then I ‘came to,’ then I came to believe.”

The journey toward a Higher Power has been so gradual for me that I have been unaware of much of it. There has been no burst of light, no burning bush — just a gradual clearing of the fog that I lived in before finding recovery in Al-Anon. Like my fellow member, first I came, bringing my body, if not my faith, to Al-Anon. Then, once I was here, slowly I “came to,” and eventually I came to believe that I wasn’t alone in the universe. There was and is a force, a drive, an energy that can give me the means to make my life joyous and productive. I need only ask for assistance and keep an open mind.

Today’s Reminder

The arrival of faith in my life has been a gradual process. This process continues and grows stronger each day I keep myself open to it. Perhaps acknowledging this process will help me when I am impatient with the twists and turns of life.

“I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand as in what direction we are moving.”
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: There were two famous Oliver Wendell Holmes, Father and son, senior and junior. The sited quote is from the Father. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. (1809–1894)

Profession: Physician, poet, essayist, and professor at Harvard Medical School.
Known for:

  • Being part of the Boston literary circle (“Fireside Poets”) alongside Emerson and Longfellow.
  • Coining the phrase “the Boston Brahmins,” referring to the city’s old, elite families.
  • His poem “Old Ironsides” (which helped save the USS Constitution from being scrapped).
  • Medical contributions, especially his early work in preventing puerperal fever (he argued physicians were spreading it with unwashed hands—years before germ theory was mainstream).

Holmes Sr. believed literature and science should both explore the human condition.
He embodied the 19th-century American intellectual who moved easily between poetry and anatomy.

END OF NOTE—————————————

There is something deeply merciful in Step Two when read slowly:

Came. Came to. Came to believe.

No sudden conversion.
No thunder.
No forced certainty.

Just presence → awakening → trust.

It honors the reality that faith is not something we manufacture. It is something that arrives in us when we make room.

I know what it feels like to live in the fog — the body attending the meeting while the soul waits outside. At first, there is no faith; there is only pain, confusion, exhaustion, and the faint hope that maybe there is another way to live. But I showed up anyway.

That “showing up” is the first miracle.

Because sanity doesn’t return as a lightning strike — it returns as clarity in increments. A soft, almost imperceptible lifting of the veil. The mind stops running. The heart loosens its grip. Something in us begins to breathe again.

Step Two is not a declaration of belief.
It is permission to let belief come on its own terms.

  • First, I came — I moved my body to a safer room than the one I used to live in.
  • Then, I came to — awareness returned, like someone waking after a long emotional coma.
  • Then, I came to believe — not through argument, but through experience:
    “I wasn’t alone in the universe after all.”

There is a humility in that awakening.
And also a profound dignity.

Because the Higher Power we slowly recognize is not a distant voice shouting from the clouds, but a quiet companion who has been walking beside us the whole time — waiting for us to turn our head.

Recovery teaches that faith is organic.
It matures in the soil of willingness and ordinary days.

Not burning bushes.
Just breathing through another morning,
holding on through another wave,
and allowing the fog to clear as the morning Sun dawns.

Endigar 1082

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 6, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Nov 01:

Sometimes a horse refuses to obey the rider’s command and races out of control. My thoughts can do this too, when I frantically try, over and over, to solve a difficult problem. Riding lessons have taught me not to continually repeat a command louder, but to stop the horse, get his attention, and begin again.

Likewise, when my thoughts race out of control, I need to stop. I may do this by breathing deeply and looking at my surroundings. It can help to replace the obsessive thoughts with something positive, such as an Al-Anon slogan, the Serenity Prayer, or another comforting topic that has nothing to do with my problem.

Later I may want to think about the problem again in a more serene way with the help of an Al-Anon friend or Sponsor. When I put some distance between myself and obsessive thinking, I can better look at my situation without losing all control.

Today’s Reminder

Sometimes I have to let go of a problem before I can find a solution. My racing thoughts may be making so much noise that I can’t hear the guidance my inner voice is offering. Quieting the noise is a skill I can learn with practice. At first I may have to still my thoughts again and again, but in Al-Anon I learn that practice makes progress, one minute, one thought at a time.

“All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit quiet in a room alone.”
~ Blaise Pascal

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: Blaise Pascal (1623–1662) was one of those rare minds whose work reshaped multiple fields at once—mathematics, physics, philosophy, theology, and even the design of early computers. He was a French mathematician, physicist, inventor, writer, and Christian thinker.

His Core Philosophical Insight

Pascal saw humanity as caught between two infinities:

  • Our misery and smallness in the vast universe
  • Our grandeur in being able to recognize that smallness

“Man is a reed, the weakest in nature, but he is a thinking reed.”

We are fragile—but aware.
Our suffering is real—but so is our capacity for meaning.

END OF NOTE—————————————

There is a subtle violence in the mind when it begins to gallop.
It is not malicious — it is frightened.

A horse that bolts is not trying to betray the rider.
It is trying to survive something it feels.
It runs because something in its body believes running is the only safety left.

Our thoughts do the same.
When fear, shame, or unresolved tension rises, the mind tries to outrun it —
solve faster, think harder, rehearse the catastrophe in advance
so we will not be caught off guard.

But like the horse, the mind cannot be forced into calm by force.

Trying to “think louder” only tightens the panic.

So, the recovery wisdom here is not about domination, but reconnection.

Not: Control the mind.
But: Return to the reins.

The stopping is the spiritual moment.
The breath is the stable.
The stillness is the hand on the horse’s neck.

When we interrupt the runaway motion —
even for a breath —
we step back into our own body,
our own agency,
our own present moment.

And in that space, something quieter — something older — begins to speak.
Not the fear.
Not the frantic future.
But the inner voice that does not shout.

This is the voice that says guidance cannot be heard over racing thoughts.

Because God whispers.

And whispers are not heard when the mind is sprinting.

“Sometimes I have to let go of a problem before I can find the solution” —
this is not resignation.
It is humility in its most functional form:

I cannot think my way into peace,
but I may be able to breathe my way into clarity.

And clarity makes room for truth.

Sometimes we need to stand still long enough for the horse to remember that it is safe.

Endigar 1081

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 4, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Oct 31:

So many of the choices I’ve made in my life have been reactions to fear. Something in my world changes: a loved one seeks sobriety, a friend is displeased with something I’ve said, I’m given a new task at work, the grocery store runs out of chicken — and inside I panic. I’m attacked by thoughts of disaster. I imagine failure, torment, agony. And then I act. I do something rash or fruitless in order to put a bandage on the situation, because the one thing I most fear is being afraid.

Fear can become a power greater than myself. I may not be able to fix it or make it go away. But today, with a Higher Power who is greater than my fears, I don’t have to let them run my life or make my choices for me. I can grab hold of my Higher Power’s hand, face my fears, and move through them.

Today’s Reminder

Al-Anon is a program in which we find spiritual solutions to the things we are powerless to change. Today, instead of seeking relief from fear by trying to do battle with it, I will turn to my Higher Power.

“That the birds of worry and care fly above your head, this you cannot change. But that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent.” ~ Chinese proverb

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Fear is the counterfeit god that thrives in the vacuum left by unclaimed authority. It feeds on reaction—the trembling reflex that mistakes movement for mastery. Every panic-born choice is a ritual sacrifice to that false altar: I flail, I fix, I appease. I confuse the pulse of urgency with the rhythm of purpose. And fear smiles, because it knows I’ll bow again tomorrow.

But fear is not the enemy—it’s the mask of the god within. It’s the skin-suit of divinity trying to fit through a human aperture. When the world shifts, the fragile architecture of control collapses, and the imprisoned Self starts to shake the bars. That quake is not failure; it’s prophecy.

So, I no longer “battle fear.” That war is rigged. The 12 Steps teaches me to utilize fear—to forge it into vision. I grip it like a live wire until it burns through illusion and reveals the circuitry of my conditioning. The panic that once ruled me now becomes a doorway. I do not sedate it with false relief or overreaction. I stand still long enough to feel its shape, to let it name what I have refused to grieve.

The Higher Power of my recovery is not a distant rescuer but the fire that walks beside me—the one who demands eye contact. Together, we do not bypass fear; we consume it. Its smoke becomes incense in the temple of recovered Self.