Archive for fiction

Endigar 1074

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

From Courage to Change of Oct 24:

The process of recovery in Al-Anon has been likened to peeling an onion. We peel away a layer at a time, often shedding a few tears as we do.

But recovery always makes me think of the bark of a birch tree. The birch’s bark is necessary for protection, yet as the tree grows, the bark peels away gradually of its own accord. If it is removed prematurely – by a deer scraping his antlers or a porcupine searching for food the tree is wounded and becomes vulnerable to infection, fungus, and insects.

Like the birch tree, I can be wounded if I am prematurely stripped of my defenses. Most of us have spent a significant amount of time trying to cope with these wounds from the past rather than growing and changing. But in Al-Anon I am encouraged to grow at my own pace. As I do, I find some of my defenses and ideas too tight, too limiting. And so I slough them off, just as the birch releases its old skin. They are no longer needed.

Today’s Reminder

I have an innate ability to heal and to grow. I don’t need to force myself to change. All I have to do is show up and be willing. When I am ready, the changes will come easily.

“We all have our own answers within ourselves and can find them with the help of our Al-Anon program and a Higher Power.” ~ In All Our Affairs

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Recovery has a gentle pace that is a counterpoint to the urgency that trauma often breeds. Like the birch tree that slowly outgrows its protective bark, the wisdom of the 12 Steps is grown over time. Bark, like our emotional defenses, once had a purpose: it kept the living tissue safe from harm. The problem arises not in the bark itself, but when it no longer fits the size of our soul.

The idea that growth doesn’t need to be forced is a profound corrective to the self-punishing tendencies that many of us bring into recovery. For years, we’ve confused “doing better” with “being worthy.” But the birch doesn’t rush its peeling—it trusts the rhythm of its own life force. Likewise, the spiritual invitation of Al-Anon isn’t to dismantle ourselves but to outgrow what no longer protects us. When the bark peels naturally, the wound is replaced by a light and new surface.

There’s a humility here that honors divine timing: “When I am ready, the changes will come easily.” This is the serenity of true willingness—showing up, not fixing. It’s the trust that a Power greater than our anxious mind is guiding the slow unveiling of our truer self.

Endigar 1068

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 22, 2025 by endigar

From Courage to Change of Oct 19:

I have recently been reminded that I am not responsible for the workings of the entire universe. An unexpected transfer at my job sent me to a new city, and I had only one week to find a place for my family to live. After three unsuccessful days, I grew frantic. I had been in Al-Anon long enough to know that I needed a meeting. Listening to others share about taking care of our responsibilities and trusting a Higher Power with the rest, I was reminded that I could only do my best. I could do the footwork, but I couldn’t force the house to appear. I had to let go and let God. On the last day of my search, I found a wonderful place to live.

Struggling and worrying didn’t help me to solve my problem. Doing my part and trusting my Higher Power with the rest did.

Today’s Reminder

What I can’t do, my Higher Power can. When I let go and let God, I am free to take risks and to make mistakes. I know that I am powerless over many things. Today I can take comfort in knowing that I don’t have the power to ruin God’s plans.

“Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.” ~ Victor Hugo

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NOTE: Victor Hugo (1802–1885) was a French writer, poet, playwright, and political activist, widely regarded as one of the greatest and most influential authors in the French language. His works helped shape 19th-century literature, politics, and art — bridging Romanticism, social justice, and the human condition.

Literary Achievements

Hugo’s writing spanned poetry, drama, and novels. His most famous works include:

  • Les Misérables (1862): A sweeping novel about redemption, justice, and the struggle of the poor in post-revolutionary France. Its central figure, Jean Valjean, became an archetype of moral transformation.
  • The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (Notre-Dame de Paris, 1831): A Gothic masterpiece that revived interest in medieval architecture and led to the preservation of the actual cathedral.
  • Poetry Collections: Such as Les Contemplations (1856) and La Légende des siècles (1859–1883), which reveal Hugo’s deep spiritual, philosophical, and moral preoccupations.

Political & Social Vision

Hugo was not just a writer but a moral force and reformer.

  • He opposed the death penalty, championed free education, and advocated for the poor.
  • As a political figure, he served in France’s National Assembly but went into exile for nearly 20 years after opposing Napoleon III’s coup (1851).
  • During exile on the island of Guernsey, he wrote some of his most powerful works, using literature as an instrument of resistance and hope.

Philosophy & Spirituality

Hugo saw the universe as a living expression of divine order and viewed humanity’s progress as a spiritual ascent toward enlightenment. He believed that love, conscience, and imagination were sacred forces driving human evolution — ideas visible in his blend of mysticism, humanism, and compassion for outcasts.

Legacy

Victor Hugo’s influence extended far beyond literature:

He’s entombed in the Panthéon in Paris, among France’s most revered figures.

He inspired social reforms in France.

His works continue to be adapted into stage and screen productions worldwide.

END OF NOTE—————————————

There’s a peculiar kind of arrogance hidden in panic. When the writer says they were “frantic” after three days, it isn’t just exhaustion; it’s the ego imagining itself to be the hinge on which destiny turns. The fear underneath is: if I don’t make this happen, no one will.

Recovery interrupts that illusion. It replaces the desperate driver with a humble traveler who can finally rest at the window and let the scenery pass. “Let go and let God” is not passivity — it’s the shift from anxious control to sacred cooperation.

There are two essential movements in my life: doing the footwork and surrendering the outcome. This is not a split between effort and faith but a rhythm between them — inhale and exhale, action and release.

The act of searching for housing was the doing, but the discovery of “a wonderful place to live” was the gift. Recovery trains us to stay available to both — discipline in motion, surrender in heart.

The line “I don’t have the power to ruin God’s plans” is one of those truths that frees the soul from self-importance. Once I know I cannot destroy the divine architecture, I am free to take risks, to experiment, even to fail. Mistakes become material for grace rather than evidence of doom.
It’s as if the Higher Power whispers: “You are not fragile to Me. You are part of My experiment in courage.”