Archive for Courage to Change

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Endigar 1041

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 17, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Sep 22:

The Fifth Step (“Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs”) is a very intimate experience in which we share our private thoughts and experiences with another person. Much has been said about the freedom this Step offers to the person who is doing the talking, but it can be extremely rewarding to the listener as well.

Most of us feel deeply honored to be entrusted to share in such a sensitive and personal experience. It’s a wonderful opportunity to practice giving unconditional love and support by simply listening. Many of us hear stories that are similar to our own; others can often identify with the feelings that are expressed. Perhaps we will be reminded of where we have been and how far we have come. We also see that, despite our outward differences, we have a great deal in common with others.

Whether we practice this Step by listening or speaking, we open ourselves as channels for our Higher Power. More often than not, we hear something that sheds light on our own situation.

Today’s Reminder

When I respond to a request for help with working the Al-Anon program, I help myself as well.

“There is no better way to keep our spiritual benefits than by giving them away with love, free of expectations, and with no strings attached.” ~ In All Our Affairs

END OF QUOTE—————————————

The Fifth Step asks us to move from the isolation of secrecy into the open air of honesty. It is one thing to admit wrongs in the silence of my own thoughts, quite another to bring them before God, and even more vulnerable to entrust them to another human being. That moment is not just confession—it is communion. It is where I let the walls drop and allow someone to see me, as I truly am. So, I will name the exact nature of my wrongs without disguise. I will return again and again to this vulnerable practice, even when fear whispers I should hide. I will continue to admit, promptly and honestly, so that nothing festers in the dark, trusting that when I show my true self, I will not be abandoned.

The Fifth Step reveals a paradox: in speaking aloud my shame, I discover my dignity. In listening to another’s secrets, I glimpse my own reflection. Whether we are confessing or holding space, we become channels for something larger than ourselves. My Higher Power often shows up in those sacred moments of listening—sometimes through a word spoken, sometimes simply in the stillness of silence. I desire to be able to listen to another’s story as if it contains a piece of wisdom meant for me too. Sitting with someone’s pain without judgment, holding it gently, because I have discovered that healing often comes sideways, through the mirror of another’s experience.


The practice of this Step has taught me that my spiritual benefits are not mine to hoard. They grow only when I give them away freely—without expectation, without attachment, with love of Self first and others always as the only motive. This is how recovery stays alive in me: by passing it on.

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Endigar 1040 ~ Familiar Storms

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

From Courage to Change of Sep 21:

In living with the disease of alcoholism, I became a fearful person who dreaded change. Although my life was full of chaos, it was familiar chaos, which gave me the feeling that I had some control over it. This was an illusion. I have learned in Al-Anon that I am powerless over alcoholism and many other things. I’ve also learned that change is inevitable.

I no longer have to assume that change is bad because I can look back at changes that have had a very positive effect on me, such as coming into Al-Anon.

I still have many fears, but the Al-Anon program has shown me that my Higher Power will help me walk through them. I believe that there is a Power greater than myself, and I choose to trust this Power to know exactly what I need and when I need it.

Today’s Reminder

Today I can accept the changes occurring in my life and live more comfortably with them. I will trust in the God of my understanding, and my fears will diminish. I relax in this knowledge, knowing that I am always taken care of when I listen to my inner voice.

“We may wonder how we are going to get through all the stages and phases, the levels of growth and recovery… Knowing we are not alone often quiets our fears and helps us gain perspective.” ~ Living with Sobriety

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Living with alcoholism trained me to believe that chaos was safer than change. The storms were familiar, and I told myself that familiarity meant control. But the truth Al-Anon taught me is that this was only an illusion. I was powerless not only over alcohol, but also over the constant shifting ground beneath me. Change comes whether I resist it or not.

I used to believe every change was a threat, another disaster waiting to unfold. But when I look back, I see that some of the most life-giving transformations—like walking through the doors of 12 Step Recovery—began as changes I once feared. Fear said, “Don’t move.” Hope whispered, “Step forward.” And in time, I learned that my fear could coexist with faith until faith grew stronger.

I admit I still fear change, but I choose not to be ruled by it. Each time I walk through fear, I prove to myself that I can. I ask, What gift might this change hold? I hear in others’ stories the same tremors of fear, and I walk with them as they walk with me. I pause to see how far I’ve already come. I share my fear honestly in meetings, and it becomes less heavy. Change is no longer just loss—it is a doorway into the yet-unlived.

Instead of treating fear as a verdict, I now see it as a signal. It tells me I am stepping into new territory. The principles of this program—prayer, inventory, fellowship—equip me to take those steps with more serenity. The same program that once helped me simply survive chaos now helps me welcome change as a teacher.

I trust that my Higher Power knows what I need and when I need it. My fears don’t vanish, but they soften when I let myself rest in the care of Something greater than me. I don’t have to see the whole map; I only need to listen for the next right step. My inner voice, when tuned to the divine frequency, assures me I am never walking alone.

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Endigar 1038

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

From Courage to Change of Sep 20:

Trying to follow a suggestion I heard in Al-Anon meetings, I dutifully wrote lists of things for which I was grateful. I listed such things as my health, my job, and food on my table. When I was finished, I didn’t feel very grateful; my mind was still weighted down with the negative thinking that had resulted from living with alcoholism. But I had made a gesture, and the seed of gratitude was planted.

I gradually learned to appreciate the small accomplishments of my daily life. Perhaps I was able to avoid a pointless argument by reciting the Serenity Prayer, or my sharing helped a newcomer, or I finished something I had been neglecting. I was beginning to change. I made a point of recognizing small changes, and my self- esteem grew. The daily application of Al-Anon principles helped me to deepen my sense of gratitude and replace those nagging, negative thoughts. Eventually I was able to go back to my original list and be truly grateful for those things I had taken for granted.

Today’s Reminder

I need to nurture myself with gratitude. Today I can practice appreciating myself, my world, and my Higher Power.

“I would lie in bed at night and say the alphabet, counting all the things I had to be grateful for, starting with the letter A… This made a great change in my life.” – As We Understood

END OF QUOTE—————————————

I admit that gratitude once felt like frivolity and sometimes it even felt delusional, but I kept practicing. Even when I didn’t “feel it,” I trusted the process. I began to look for gratitude in the unexpected places—inside the mundane. I share my gratitude with others, offering hope to those still in the fog.

I wish I could say that I honor the practice daily.  Not like a mindless obligation, but because I suspect it keeps me well. When I have used it, well, gratitude would soften my defenses and invite me into connection. Gratitude is not just a list—it’s a way of listening to life.

What began as rote lists transformed into a deeper awareness: gratitude is not a trick of the mind, but a lens that reshapes the heart. Even the things I once took for granted became luminous—health, work, food, relationships—no longer just words on a page but living realities. Gratitude allowed me to see not only what I had, but Who was walking with me, guiding me toward peace.

Gratitude became not a demand but a nourishment. It shifted from a list to a daily practice of noticing, of receiving, of resting in the presence of what is. Today, I nurture myself with gratitude because it keeps me connected—

  • To my Higher Power, who is present in both small victories and quiet grace.
  • To my world, which offers daily gifts if I pause to notice them.
  • To myself, who is no longer defined by what’s broken but by what’s being mended.

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Endigar 1036

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

From Courage to Change of Sep 19:

In making a list of all the people we have harmed (Step Eight), some names come to mind at once, while others require more thought. Our Fourth Step inventory can help to refresh our memories. We can ask ourselves about situations in which each character defect might have led us to act in a harmful manner and add the names of those concerned to our Eighth Step list.

We can also look at names already on the list and ask ourselves if we have behaved in similar fashion toward others. Many of us discover previously hidden patterns of destructive behavior as a result of putting this list in writing. Even when our defects were not involved, we may have harmed others despite the most honorable intentions. Their names also belong on the list.

Once we are clear about the harm we have done, it becomes possible to make changes and amends so that we can feel better about our behavior and about the way we relate to others.

Today’s Reminder

An Eighth Step list helps me to let go of guilt and regret I may be carrying from the past. I will approach this Step with love and gentleness because I take it for my own freedom.

“Our actions have consequences, and sometimes other people get hurt. By taking Step Eight, we acknowledge this fact and become willing to make amends.” ~ In All Our Affairs

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Step Eight: “Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.”

I once thought of amends as a grim duty, a payment for sins. But Recovery has reframed it for me. This list becomes less about punishment and more about preparation for freedom. The willingness to name and acknowledge is itself an act of love. It is as though my Higher Power whispers: “Your past does not define you, but it must be honored.” In that honoring comes release.

What I often find in Step Eight is the thread of repetition: the same defect woven through different relationships, manifesting in familiar harm. Writing these names down allows me to see the pattern clearly. And even when I acted from good intentions, the impact mattered more than my motives. This list is not about condemning myself—it’s about gathering the evidence of how my actions landed on others, so that I can walk forward free of guilt and regret.

I can approach Step Eight with gentleness, remembering:

  • This list is for my freedom.
  • Intentions matter less than impact.
  • Every name is a chance to reconnect with honesty and love.
  • Acknowledging harm is not self-condemnation, but the beginning of self-respect.

I face the truth of the harm I’ve done without hiding behind excuses. I keep writing, even when shame urges me to stop and I ask, “What hidden patterns are still shaping my relationships?”
I remember those I’ve harmed are more than characters in my story—they carry their own wounds. I put it in writing, refusing to leave the truth half-seen. I own my part, and in doing so, I reclaim my dignity. Each name is not only an echo of harm, but also a possibility for healing.

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Endigar 1035

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

From Courage to Change of Sep 18:

When I am troubled about what lies ahead, I look back to see where I’ve been. When I was very new to the program, I would say, “I’m better off now than I was before I came to Al-Anon. I’ll keep coming back.” When I grew frustrated because of all the changes I wanted to make in myself, I said, “At least I’m aware of the problems. Now I know what I’m dealing with.” And recently I found myself saying, “If someone had told me a year ago that I would be where I am today, I wouldn’t have believed it possible.”

Time offers me evidence that the Al-Anon program works — I can see the growth in my life. The longer I live by these principles, the more evidence I have. This reinforcement provides strong support in times of doubt and helps boost my courage in times of fear.

Today’s Reminder

When I feel unable to move, or when I am filled with fear, I have a wonderful gift to help clear my way – the gift of memory. Too often my memory has given me sadness, bringing back past hurt and shame. But now I can use my memory to see the progress I have made and to know the joy of gratitude. My own experience is teaching me to trust this wonderful recovery process. All I have to do is pay attention.

“God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” – James M. Barrie

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: Sir James Matthew Barrie (1860–1937) was a Scottish novelist and playwright, best known as the creator of Peter Pan, “the boy who wouldn’t grow up.”

  • Origins: Born in Kirriemuir, Angus, Scotland; studied at the University of Edinburgh; began as a journalist and novelist.
  • Major works: Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up (1904 play), the novel Peter and Wendy (1911), and other popular plays such as The Admirable Crichton (1902), Quality Street (1901), and What Every Woman Knows (1908).
  • Inspiration: Peter Pan grew from Barrie’s close friendship with the Llewelyn Davies boys, whom he later helped raise after their parents died.
  • Honors: Created a baronet (1913) and appointed to the Order of Merit (1922); later served as Chancellor of the University of Edinburgh.
  • Legacy: In 1929 he gifted the copyright of Peter Pan to London’s Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children, a bequest uniquely protected in UK law so the hospital benefits in perpetuity.

He died in London on 19 June 1937 and is buried in Kirriemuir.

END OF NOTE—————————————

I had an enemy that dwelt in my memories. I called it the black void. Until recently, it carried an unknown shame and a hunger to be more than what I am. Experiences are not thread together by time, but by memory. This is the library of our partially chewed facts and lurking emotions narrated by imagination. And I see him, the child that was, looking at me, concerned, holding a little golden container, ridged on top, and unopened. When my past self and me learned to trust one another, I take the small golden container and open. A key. It is the ownership of my own life.

Sometimes memories carry the jagged edges of shame, the evidence of failure, the replay of hurts that never seemed to fade. But recovery is teaching me to handle memory differently—not as a whip, but as a lantern. When fear closes in on me about the future, I can turn that lantern backward and see the path I’ve already walked. And there it is—progress, undeniable. Each mile marker testifies: I’ve survived, I’ve grown, I’ve changed.

Early on, progress looked small: simply being better off than before, or becoming aware of my problems rather than lost in them. Later, I found myself astonished at how far I had come. Memory, in this light, becomes a treasury rather than a trap. My experiences shift from burdens to proof that this program works. Even my struggles, once I’ve walked through them, become evidence that courage and healing are possible.

Memory is mystical in this way: it is the same faculty that can torment me or console me, depending on how I hold it. In the hands of fear, it drags me backward. In the hands of gratitude, it pulls me forward. My Higher Power reclaims memory as a sacred tool, turning old sorrow into new courage. This is where the spiritual recovery tool of a gratitude list is a helpful practice. I admit my fear of the future, but I bring memory as evidence against despair. I use my own progress as proof that more is possible. And I wonder how memory itself can be a Higher Power’s gift. My story becomes a light for others when I share it. I intentionally turn memory toward gratitude, not shame and I testify in meetings about how far I’ve come, not only how far I must go.

Memory is not a prison; it is a map of grace unfolding.

When I feel paralyzed, I can pause and ask:

  • What progress have I already made?
  • What evidence does my own story give me that I can trust this process?
  • How can gratitude transform what memory is showing me today?

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Endigar 1033

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Sep 17:

Most human beings have an instinctive need to fit in. The urge to belong, to keep the peace, helps us to get along with others and be a part of society. This instinct has allowed many civilizations to survive, and is not harmful unless I lose my sense of balance.

People-pleasing becomes destructive when I ignore my own needs and continually sacrifice my well-being for the sake of others. Al- Anon helps me find a compromise that allows me to respond to my feelings, including my desire to belong, and still take care of myself.

The best way to maintain this balance is to build my self-esteem. When I treat myself with kindness and respect, I become better able to get along with others.

Today’s Reminder

I will appreciate that all of my instincts and feelings exist for a reason. Today, instead of trying to banish these feelings, I will strive to find a balance.

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now — when?” ~ Hillel

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: Hillel the Elder, Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) 1:14 in the Mishnah.
Hebrew: “אם אין אני לי, מי לי? וכשאני לעצמי, מה אני? ואם לא עכשיו—אימתי?”

END OF NOTE—————————————

I admit that I want to be loved, but not at the cost of abandoning myself. I know the instinct to belong—it pulses in me like a drumbeat. It kept my ancestors alive, kept me safe as a child, and still whispers in my adult choices: “Don’t stand out, don’t cause a ripple, stay useful so you’ll be kept.” Belonging is not wrong. It is part of the design. But in recovery, I’ve had to face the truth that when I bend too far, I begin to break. People-pleasing is not the same as love. It is survival dressed in fear.

When I gave away my needs in exchange for peace, the peace never lasted. I’d buy acceptance with silence, but the silence corroded me from the inside. Self-Recovery teaches me that my desire to fit in is not a defect—it is an instinct. And instincts need balance, not banishment. Balance comes when I allow myself to matter. When I name my needs. When I remember that I, too, am part of the “we” I keep sacrificing for. So, I practice saying no, even when my voice shakes. I keep checking: am I serving love, or am I serving fear?

There is something mystical in realizing that self-respect is not selfish—it is the oxygen mask I must put on before I can help another breathe. My Higher Power reminds me that harmony is not found in erasing myself, but in showing up whole. True connection cannot grow from pretense or resentment. It grows when I bring my authentic self into the circle. What if belonging could mean being accepted as I am, not as I pretend to be?

To keep my instincts in balance, I build self-esteem the way a mason lays stones: one daily act of kindness toward myself, one truth told without apology, one pause before saying “yes.” With each stone, the wall of resentment lowers, and the foundation of recovery strengthens. Balance is not found in exile of instinct, but in weaving instinct into wisdom. I remember that others also wrestle with these same instincts. When I let people know me—not just the agreeable me, but the whole me, I give a nod of social permission to do the same. That is the world I would like to live in; one that is safe to be me.

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Endigar 1032

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on August 29, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Sep 16:

During my years in Al-Anon I have done lots of thinking about the First Step; lately I have done lots of feeling about it, too. The feeling work can be described mostly in one word: Grief. Recalling a friend’s rapid progression through alcoholism, from reasonable health and apparent happiness to cirrhosis and death, I feel grief.

I don’t necessarily hate this disease today, but I do feel fiercely its crippling, powerful presence in my life. I have memories of the damage done to my family, my friends, and myself. I grieve for the loss of love and life that alcoholism has caused. I grieve for the lost years I have spent jumping through the hoops of this disease. I admit that I am powerless over alcohol and that my life has been utterly unmanageable whenever I have grappled with it.

Today’s Reminder

I have suffered many losses as the result of alcoholism. Part of admitting the effects of this disease in my life is admitting my grief. By facing alcoholism’s impact on my life, I begin to move out of its grip and into a life of great promise and hope.

It’s not easy to admit defeat and give in to that powerful foe, alcoholism. Yet, this surrender is absolutely necessary if we are ever to have sane, happy lives again.

END OF QUOTE—————————————

I recognize the devastation alcoholism has caused. Part of the honesty in the First Step is to continue to walk through grief without being defined by it. Could the grief that comes to me from time to time be teaching me about love? About who and what is significant in my life? And maybe this understanding is something that I can share without collapsing into morbid hopelessness. My sorrow connects me to countless others who mourn the same losses. So, I examine my grief as part of my daily inventory, not as a sentence but as a guide. I desire to have the courage to share my grief aloud, refusing to hide it as shame. I suspect that grief, when embraced, becomes not a dead end but a turning point.

What losses am I still carrying, and have I given myself permission to grieve them?

There is a paradox here. To grieve is to admit defeat, to surrender. Yet that surrender is not destruction—it is release. When I say, “I am powerless,” I am not just cataloguing the chaos; I am opening the door to hope. I admit that I cannot force sobriety, cannot control disease, cannot bend life back to what it once was. What I can do is grieve honestly. And in that grief, I find the soil where serenity might one day grow.

Am I confusing surrender with weakness, when surrender is actually the path to strength?

Grief has a strange holiness to it. It feels like loss, but it is also love’s shadow. If I did not care, I would not mourn. In recovery, I learn that even grief can become a companion rather than a captor. By naming it, I loosen its grip. By facing it, I transform despair into reverence for life as it is. My Higher Power does not erase my pain, but breathes into it, teaching me that surrender can be more healing than victory.

How can I let grief soften me instead of harden me?

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Endigar 1030

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on August 27, 2025 by endigar

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?

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Endigar 1029

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on August 26, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Sep 14:

Living with alcoholism taught me that it was best not to hope for anything. The lessons were too painful — I would get excited about something, only to have my hopes shattered. As time passed and hope diminished, I fell deeper into despair. Eventually I shut down my feelings and refused to care or to hope for anything at all.

Through Al-Anon’s Twelve Steps, I am discovering a spirituality that allows me to believe that there is every reason to hope. With my Higher Power’s help, regardless of my circumstances, I can feel fully alive in the moment and enjoy this feeling. The painful lessons of a lifetime are not unlearned overnight, but Al-Anon is helping me to learn that it is safe to feel, to hope, even to dream.

Today’s Reminder

It is risky to care — I may be disappointed. But in trying to protect myself from pain, I could cut myself off from the many delights that life has to offer. I will live more fully today.

“Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.” ~ Samuel Ullman

END OF QUOTE—————————————

NOTE: Samuel Ullman (1840–1924) was an American businessman, poet, humanitarian, and religious leader best remembered for his poem “Youth.”

Early Life

  • He was born in Hechingen, Germany, in 1840.
  • At the age of 11, he immigrated with his family to the United States, settling in Mississippi.
  • Samuel Ullman’s father, Jacob Ullman, operated a butcher shop in Port Gibson, Mississippi when the family settled there in 1851. Young Samuel assisted him each morning delivering orders before school and later helped purchase cattle for the business
  • When the Civil War broke out, Ullman, then in his early 20s, served in the Confederate Army. He was part of a local Mississippi unit.
  • Samuel Ullman wed Emma Mayer on May 24, 1867, in Natchez, Mississippi. They had a total of eight children. However, of these, six survived to adulthood, meaning two sadly passed away in early childhood

Career and Contributions

  • Ullman became a successful businessman in Birmingham, Alabama, after moving there in 1884.
  • He was deeply involved in civic life: he served on the Birmingham Board of Education, championed racial equality in education, and was active in religious and community causes.
  • As a lay leader in Temple Emanu-El (a Reform Jewish congregation), he was respected for his moral vision and emphasis on human dignity.
  • Jewish Leadership
    Ullman was raised in a Jewish family and carried his faith with him through his moves from Germany to Mississippi and later to Birmingham, Alabama.
    In Birmingham, he became a founding member of Temple Emanu-El (a Reform Jewish congregation). His leadership there was notable, as he worked to help establish Jewish religious life in what was still a very young and rapidly growing city.
    He also served as a lay leader, meaning he often led prayers, gave talks, and carried responsibilities when professional rabbis were unavailable.

    Service to the Community
    Ullman emphasized that religious duty was not confined to ritual, but extended to civic responsibility.
    He served on the Birmingham Board of Education and worked to promote racial justice and better schooling for African Americans at a time when this was rare. His religious values deeply influenced this advocacy, seeing education as a spiritual responsibility.

    Philosophy of Faith
    In his writings and speeches, Ullman often connected faith with youthfulness of spirit, stressing inner renewal and moral courage as religious acts.
    His famous poem Youth embodies this perspective: living with openness, hope, and vitality was for him not just personal philosophy, but a religious ethic.

    Practical Duties
    He helped guide Jewish worship and community structure at Temple Emanu-El.
    He lived by example, showing that religious duty extended to the way one treated others—through kindness, justice, and an unflagging commitment to growth.

His Poem “Youth”

  • Ullman is most famous for writing the poem “Youth,” which he composed later in life.
  • The poem emphasizes that youth is not defined by age but by attitude, imagination, and ideals.
  • It gained international fame largely because General Douglas MacArthur often quoted it and kept a framed copy in his office in Tokyo after World War II.
  • The poem became especially popular in Japan, where it continues to be read as an inspirational text.

Legacy

His life embodied service, cross-cultural respect, and the blending of business success with moral and civic duty.

In Birmingham, the Samuel Ullman Museum (part of the University of Alabama at Birmingham) preserves his legacy.

Youth by Samuel Ullman

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity of the appetite, for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of sixty more than a body of twenty. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals.

Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.

Whether sixty or sixteen, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing child-like appetite of what’s next, and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so long are you young.

When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at twenty, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch the waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at eighty.

END OF NOTE—————————————

When the lips are gone, the smile turns irrepressible.
When the orbs sink into the raven’s gut, the gaze remains ever watchful.
The oxygen tent is torn away, and nature’s breath flows unhindered.

Emptiness lingers—
the footprint of that wandering ghost we call freedom,
passing through walls of illusion without training wheels.

And in its wake,
hope rises, resurrecting life anew.


Living with alcoholism taught me that hope could feel like a trap. Each time I reached for it, I seemed to be punished: expectations raised, then crushed. So I trained myself not to hope at all. It felt safer to numb, safer to shut down, safer to live in a barren landscape than to risk the disappointment of a shattered dream. Yet beneath that silence, despair kept spreading roots.

The Twelve Steps have been my invitation back to hope. Not the fragile, conditional hope that depends on someone else’s behavior or on life bending to my demands — but the grounded hope that comes from turning my will and my life over to a Higher Power. With help, I’ve learned that it is safe to feel again, safe to open the heart a crack wider, safe to let the light in. Hope does not mean I will get everything I want; it means I can trust that whatever comes, I will not face it alone.

Yes, there is risk in caring. To love, to hope, to dream means stepping into vulnerability, and vulnerability always carries the possibility of pain. But pain is not the enemy — disconnection is. When I cut myself off to avoid being hurt, I also cut myself off from joy, laughter, intimacy, and the unexpected gifts life places along the way. Hope is not a guarantee against suffering, but it is the doorway into living fully


Today I can choose to treat each act of hope as a spiritual exercise:

  • When I allow myself to hope, I practice courage.
  • When I risk caring, I practice connection.
  • When I dream, I practice co-creating a life with my Higher Power.

1. Spiritual Honesty: I name my fear of disappointment.
2. Resilience: I let myself hope anyway.
3. Curiosity of the Soul: What possibilities open when I refuse despair?
4. Empathy and Compassion: Others fear hope too — my journey can reassure them.
5. Discipline in Reflection: Each day I test where I’ve hidden from hope, and I try again.
6. Courage to Be Seen: I confess that I want more from life — and that is holy.
7. Creative Insight: Hope is not fragile glass, it is a living seed — buried, yes, but insistent on breaking through.

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Endigar 1028

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 19, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Sep 13:

Each moment of this day is precious, and I will make it count. I will use this time to enrich my life and to improve my relationship with my Higher Power, other people, and myself. Each of the Twelve Steps can help me to pursue this goal regardless of my circumstances. Meetings, Al-Anon telephone calls, and Al-Anon literature all help me to apply the Steps to what is happening in my life here and now. In this moment, I can make a positive change.

Perhaps I will think of time as a special kind of checking account. I have twenty-four hours to spend. By putting Al-Anon’s principles to work in my life today, I am choosing to use these hours to grow, enjoy, and improve. I even have an opportunity to learn from my mistakes, since a brand new twenty-four hours can begin at any moment.

Today’s Reminder

This day offers me a chance to make a new start at living. How can I make the best use of it?

“We start with gifts. Merit comes from what we make of them.”
– Jean Toomer

END OF QUOTE—————————————

Note: Jean Toomer (1894–1967) was an American writer, poet, and thinker best known for his 1923 book Cane, a groundbreaking work of modernist literature that blends poetry, prose, and drama.

Background

  • He was born in Washington, D.C., into a mixed-race family and grew up moving between Negro and Caucasian communities, which deeply shaped his outlook on identity.
  • Toomer resisted being categorized strictly by race. Though associated with the Harlem Renaissance, he did not fully embrace the label of “Negro writer,” instead seeing himself as an American author exploring universal human themes.

Cane (1923)

  • Cane is his most famous work, often considered one of the masterpieces of the Harlem Renaissance.
  • It weaves together vignettes, poems, and sketches of Negro life in both the rural South and the urban North, portraying themes of identity, sexuality, spirituality, and the Great Migration.
  • Its experimental style—mixing lyricism, folklore, and modernist fragmentation—made it unique for its time.

Later Life

  • After Cane, Toomer never published another major literary work, though he wrote essays, plays, and unpublished manuscripts.
  • He became involved with spiritual movements, particularly the teachings of the mystic George Gurdjieff, which influenced his later writings and personal philosophy.
  • He married Margery Latimer, a white writer, in 1931, which was controversial in the U.S. due to anti-miscegenation attitudes and laws.
  • Much of his later life was devoted to spiritual seeking and private writing rather than public literary activity.

Legacy

He is remembered as a bridge figure between different identities, artistic movements, and cultural currents of early 20th-century America.

Though he distanced himself from being labeled a “Black writer,” his desire was ignored and now his work—especially Cane—is recognized as central to African American literature and modernist experimentation. It is more the work of American individualism than racial Darwinist competition.

END OF NOTE—————————————

There are roughly 37 trillion cells in my body. Within just one of those cells resides a molecule: L43NxB500325Ydπ. And within that molecule, housed deep inside a neutron, lies the Quantum Infinity Vault. Its emblem is the macro/micro infinity ouroboros — the eternal cycle of vast and small, endlessly entwined.

The code to open this vault is 23(3), which summons 24. When opened, the vault releases an inexhaustible supply of positive selfishness (ps). A pulsating dose of ps moves through my body each day. If I fail to use it within the 24-hour span of Earth’s rotation, it decays into the maggot-filled manna of fearful isolation. But if I spend it freely — if I feed the hungry Sun — it transforms into connection, filling my day with living tools of recovery.

For when I have enough ps to proclaim, “I want to live” or “I want to recreate my life”, then I also find:

  • the courage to connect,
  • the humility to listen to other versions of success, and
  • the deep, restoring respiration of serenity.

Long live molecule L43NxB500325Ydπ!

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