Daily Reprieve

Dreams! save me from my dreams!  As I slept for about two hours last night, I took an exhilarating ride.  In the surreal world of slumber, I went to the restroom, and took a dump, made a fecal deposit, or pinched off a loaf as they say.  There was a little golden computer chip that I brushed off or threw in the toilet and I immediately heard the nebulous dream announcer say that was a new improved computer virus from the future, like a terminator virus that merges with any organic material it comes in contact with.  I looked down and saw that my feces had begun to foam in the water, merging with the chip.  I hit the flush handle and backed up, but too late.  A great dog looking beast jumped out and moved at lightning speed toward me.  I spent the rest of the dream trying to escape the Terminating Shit Dog.  I awoke around 2:30 AM caught in a lucid dream that would not go away.  The room around me seemed to swirl and I felt threatened, probably thanks to the Poopy Pup of Hell snapping at my dreamworld.  I finally had to turn on a flash light to break its spell.  I spent the next few moments literally catching my breath.  The rest of the night was spent attempting to convince a General of his military base’s vulnerability to terrorist attack, and trying to fit in with Hispanic people where I was told that the word “burrito” was a derogatory term.  There was a really pretty lady, but there was no hope of a relationship in this quick tempo.  I had one last image of me attempting to give advice to another alcoholic about avoiding going out when he traveled on TDY (military term for a quick assignment somewhere other than home base for a specific mission).  I am exhausted.  Luckily, it is an off day and I can spend some time in some real meditation.  Holy Crap, Batman!  Was that a bark or a fart?

I went to work beset by some personal fears.  Yes, I prayed.  But sometimes my attempts at prayer and meditation become a forum for fears and insecurity.  I have noticed that it is easier for me to find my happy place when I don’t have to give large chunks of my time and energy to the money making machine.  When I was unemployed, I could spend that time and energy connecting with my Higher Power who would help me pull off these little mind-sucking leeches.  It is a real struggle to achieve spiritual serenity and material stability, to balance these pursuits.  I have both vertical and lateral needs that make me feel as if I am being drawn and quartered out of bed in the morning.

Luckily, my Higher Power has spent an eternity unemployed and creates when it is His-Her pleasure to do so.  No wonder I have wanted to be a god!  But a life based on self-enthronement doesn’t work for me.  Already proved, powerless and unmanageable.  So I have to depend on the serenity of the God of my understanding (gomu).  I have to take out a serenity loan from the Central Bank of Universal Peace.  Gomu is not bound by time and can pull away to maintain His-Her spiritual fitness.  I end up being dependant on His-Her sanity just to be able to get up and face another day.  I catch little hints of the Presence throughout the day. The web of the universe intervenes in my behalf.   And that is why I bother with prayer and meditation. 

I have spent some time with my sponsee today.  He had some questions about the particular step he is currently working on.  We talked on the way to the meeting.  But when we arrived a little late (my fault again), they were specifically talking about that which we had just gotten through discussing.  This happened yesterday as well.  It allows me to see the Higher Power in action.  And I guess the real magic is not that there is some great force out there that gives a damn, but that there is some great force in me that gives a damn, and gets really excited when a fellow addict or alcoholic is coming to life, is getting this recovery stuff. 

I’ve started a FAQ page, inspired by some of the questions my sister asked about recovery.  Check it out from time to time.  When I think of a question, I’ll load it on that page.  And I’ll do my best to answer it.  Understand that I am no guru.  If you find something to correct or can improve upon the answer, or if you have a question you would like me to include, just let me know. 

I went to a candlelight meeting tonight.  It occurred to me, I am actually developing friendships.  People recognize and welcome me, and I feel apart.  I belong.  We’re in this together.  I like that.  One of the pursuits of my drinking was to be more comfortable around others.  Instant intimacy.  The alcohol was the only thing I was developing a relationship with.  The people became incidental.  Now they have become essential.  Another essential for me is to get some sleep before going to work tomorrow.  Good night, and sleep well.

Last night, I drove to the cemetery to make an amends to my Mother.  It seemed appropriate to do it before Mother’s Day arrives.  I just sat and talked.  Then I took communion with her, leaving her bread on the tombstone, and pouring her transubstantiated grape juice (not wine) into the ground where her body lay.  It was so quiet.  A wave of grief came over me.  She is not here, not visible anyway.  My sobriety allows me to feel all my emotions deeply.  My addiction would have found this grief unacceptable, to be immediately pushed away with a swig, or two, or three… and the memory of last night would have been stolen from me by the intoxicant.  When I cry for her now, I am admitting that we had a love relationship that was valuable to me.  It is my right and an honor to her to feel this loss.

I left and returned this morning with My Father and sister.  She bought two durable rose bushes, and we planted them before the rains came in.  It was perfect timing.  Mom loves roses. 

I love you, Mom.

I lost a lot of sleep last night.  Off time, little snatches of sweet freedom, it is just so hard to let go.  I cling to every moment.  But my attitude begins to sink when I sacrifice the power of dreams to release my unconscious stress.  I shut the filing cabinet of gratitude and acceptance, in favor of the archive of past failures and projected fears.

For me, losing sleep is a sign of growing self-enthronement and diminishing self-manifestation.  I stop trusting my place in the web of the universe.  It’s really hard to let go.

Gomu (God of my understanding), I appreciate another day of sobriety.  Why are you investing your energy into me?  Who are you?  I guess I should just be glad that you give a damn about me.  But you are a source of magic and wonderment for me, and I know something is going on between you and I. 

Who are you?  I am tired.  I will go to my inner sanctum and rest, get up, clean up and go to work.  I will repeat activities necessary for me to stay alive and unfold as a living person.  And you are interested in this?  What do you gain in this deal?  Why can’t we just sit down and have a cup of coffee, and talk this out?  Good night Jon Gomu. 

In my 3rd step prayer, I told my Higher Power that I had given up the “right to argue,” that I just needed to live.  I guess it is progress, not perfection.  Humility protects me from terminal uniqueness.  Humility gives me the opportunity to listen long enough to gain understanding.  Humility invites me into the sanctuary of patience. 

Obviously, I had a good meeting tonight.  I went out with them afterwards.  I wondered why I ever doubted the sincerity of those I have heard share. 

Then I remember that my disease is always looking for an opportunity to divide and conquer, to isolate me and target me for destruction. 

Got to get some sleep. 

1. I bare the consequences for a disease that is out of my control.  On a spiritual level, I feel that I am often punished for crimes I cannot identify, not even having the promise of being able to face the invisible accuser.  The steps often seem to imply that I must dig deep to bring up charges against myself.  Isn’t that an old Christian misconception that self-flagellation equates to spiritual development?

2. There is a disturbing parallel between the elements of behavior control found in centralized religion and some of the recovery rhetoric propagated in meetings.  And it truly does feel like rhetoric when I know what the “right things” to say are, and feel accepted for saying them.  But in the end, I am left with this gnawing feeling of not being true to myself.

3. Does my Higher Power run a good cop-bad cop scenario by allowing alcohol to bully me into a “state of reasonableness?”  This is the Godfather perspective of Higher Power that has plagued me in the past. (God, grant me the serenity…Our Father, who art in heaven = Godfather)

Today I worked hard, and then got to have a wonderful time out with my girlfriend.  I am so tired.  I started off the day in prayer requesting another day of sobriety.  Sobriety means being able to give myself to work and relationships.  Simple, but its all I have today.