October 2, 2005

  I have had the most incredible, amazing, wondrous, extraordinary day of my life. I have experienced a Great Miracle, the best to date in my recovery and equaled only by the birth of my own children. I was present for the labor and birth of my first grandchild.

  At 6:30 this morning my son-in-law called to say the baby was ready to be born. My daughter had her first contraction shortly after 4 this morning. So, off we went to get them checked into a local hotel as planned where Cherie would labor until she felt it was time to call in the midwife. Unfortunately, there was a huge hot rod show in town and there was no room at any inn, so after a trip to her best friend's house proved fruitless when SHE wasn't home, we headed for the midwife's house.

  Now I could write until midnight about what transpired for the next few hours, but I will fast forward to 12:30 when Cherie got the urge to push. There we all were--Mommy, Daddy, Granny Nan, and Brenda the midwife, in Brenda's queen-sized bed. I was at the miracle end with Brenda and any words I conjure up to describe what I felt as that baby began to arrive would be pitifully inadequate.

  Mama worked so hard, and she was very brave and fearless as she pushed and growled and growled and pushed. Exhausted but determined, she gave the last ounce of energy she had to birth her son and when he was out, all four of us burst into tears. Happiness, relief, euphoria, and GRATITUDE overflowed our hearts and I sobbed "Thank You God" as the baby went on to mama's chest.

  Sobriety gave me that precious gift; to be there for my daughter, to watch a miracle unfold and see that tiny baby enter this world.

  Today I am grateful for Miles Lighthorse Campbell.

October 3, 2005


  One little paragraph about Miles of Smiles--I promise I won't gush for too long. OH MY STARS! I just came from seeing him and he is so adorable and precious. He was nursing at Mama's breast when we arrived and it was the most beautiful sight. He weighed 7 and a half pounds and was 19 and a half inches long. If you don't have a grandson, I'm tellin' you--you gotta get one!

  Ok....nuff of that.

  Autumn is here at last--another season, another reason to be grateful. When I drank, time had no significance for me. The seasons came and went and I paid no attention to flowers in bloom, hummingbirds, butterflies, vibrant hues on the leaves of the trees, frost on the ground or phases of the moon. Seasons became years, and years added up to decades as life passed me by while I peered at the world through amber liquid.

  Today as a sober and alive human being, I am aware of everything that surrounds me. I notice when the moon is full or when it looks like God's thumbnail. I see patches of grass that are yellowing where they used to be green. I see ants diligently struggling along the patio toting a crumb of food twice their size.

  I feel the subtle shift of the weather, still warm in the day, but cool in the morning and evening. I smell the sages more now since the brutal sun isn't frying the fragrance. They look so relieved--I swear I can hear them sigh and say "aaaaaah."

  I took life for granted for so long and I am sorry about that. There were many gifts for me to open and enjoy, but I never unwrapped them. I will make amends to myself by opening as many as I can each day, from this day forward.

  Before I wrap this Mushy Muse up, I want to say thank you to the Home Girls for listening to me spout like Old Faithful yesterday. You guys are as awesome as you are beautiful!

  Today I am grateful for autumn breezes.

October 4, 2005


  I'm going to give you guys a break and not wax sentimental over the baby tonight. There will be lots and lots to write about in the coming months, so we'll trudge the road of Happy Destiny today.

  Some people have an objection to the word trudge--it doesn't bother me. Well, I should fess up that I didn't agree with it in the beginning, but like so many other things I've discovered since I recovered, that's small stuff and it's not worth sweating.

  Trudge: to walk or march steadily and usually laboriously.

  OK...that works. We are supposed to walk the walk--we try to remain steady and stay the course, and there is certainly labor involved--remember? It works if you work it? So yeah....we trudge.

  I have always over-analyzed everything, so you can bet your bottom dollar that I was one of those newcomers who had to question and improve half the Big Book. After much ego-puncturing, I realized I didn't need to re-write it--it was fine just the way it was.

  In fact....I balked at reading the Big Book for the first few weeks because I thought "How is a book written over 50 years ago by a couple of old, male farts going to help me?" I just knew I wouldn't be able to relate to or understand their geezer thoughts and language.

  Well, I was in for a rude awakening because I saw myself on every single page and I understood every single word that was written. It doesn't matter who you are or where you came from. Male, female, young, old, black, white, or purple--if you're an alcoholic, you NEED to read that book and I don't mean once--I mean over and over again.

  Today I am grateful I have not one, but three Big Books. I have the purse size (the little big book) the standard size (the Big Book) and the sight-challenged size (the BIG BIG Book)--the last one given to me by my Beautiful Buddy Marr.

October 5, 2005


  My theory of what an alcoholic was and how they drank was totally discounted when I came to AA. What I have discovered is that there are many different types of drinkers. Take me for example--for decades, I didn't consider myself an alcoholic even though I drank almost every day for the last 15 or so years of my drinking--maybe 20. Denial denial denial.

  I have discovered an alcoholic can be a binge drinker--something completely foreign to me in the latter stages of my alcoholism. Others are maintenance drinkers. They drink all day every day, but never slur or stagger. Some are functional and hold down a job or go to school. Others are totally dysfunctional and can't hold down anything but booze. Still others can't even hold the liquor down--they are so far gone, they throw up every time they drink.

  Some, like me, are a combination of all of the above. In the early years, I binged on weekends with my outcast hippie friends. I drank as much as I could even though I gagged on the taste. Later I was a functional drunk. I worked during the day and drank when I got home. Still later, I quit working because alcohol was more important, but I tried going to college at the age of 40 to help me NOT drink all day. That lasted a year, but it really didn't work because I just had to play catch up when I got home.

  Throughout my entire drinking career, I drank until I passed out, puked, or both. Some people never do either. I also got lazy in the end. I barely took care of my house, and my appearance wasn't important to me--neither was hygiene. Others manage to drink all day, every day, but still keep themselves and their homes looking attractive.

  Boy howdy! I could go on forever, but the point is you can't pigeon-hole, label, or stereotype an alcoholic. Our drinking habits are creative, colorful and as individual as we are, but the result is always the same. There comes a time when we just say "That's all I can stands and I can't stands no more."

  Today I am grateful I can channel my creativity into constructive things.

October 6, 2005


  I have decided I like being sober about a gazillion times better than I liked being drunk. In fact, I never really liked being drunk---Sheesh--I sure was a slow learner! However, now that I know, I shall use my 20/20 hindsight to help keep me on the Path of Recovery.

  Overheard at a meeting: I used to be a hopeless dope fiend and now I'm a dopeless hope fiend.

  I like that, even though I didn't do drugs, well--except for the liquid kind you pour in a glass. I hung out with the dopers and heads,( as they were called in high school) but I was scared of the reds, whites, yellow jackets, LSD, and whatever else they were doing. As I've mused before, I thought I was the smart cookie, sticking with booze. I wasn't gonna fry my brain like those crazy friends of mine! Hah! That's a hoot!

  I may not have fried my brain but I sure gave it a good pickling.

  I'm so grateful to be lucid today--to have my mental faculties. My kids sometimes question that and tease me (like the day I left the butter out of the cookies) but I know I am very blessed and fortunate I didn't destroy too many vital brain cells.

October 7, 2005


  Well, I hope you don't get tired of hearing it because I don't think I'll ever get tired of saying it--it's been a great day!

  I was out back just now, thanking God for this day and doing my daily inventory. I had a few minor things in the "room for improvement" column, but other than that, I think I can safely say the day was great because I did God's will and not mine.

  Even the bleeding deacon at the meeting this morning who chastised the room at the tail end didn't step on my joy. A year ago, I would have been up in arms over an incident like that, and would have felt the need to retaliate. I didn't even give her the stink eye while she was berating us--I gave her the same respect I give everyone else who shares.

  I remembered what my sponsor told me a long time ago--everyone in the room is my teacher. Some will teach me how I want to behave and some will teach me the opposite. Another wise one compared the offering of shares at a meeting to a smorgasbord. She said "fill your plate with what you like and feast on it. If you don't like something, don't put it on your plate--leave it for someone who might like that particular dish."

  Realistically speaking, we have different taste buds when it comes to what we hear shared. Some shares go down smooth and others give us indigestion. Some are filet mignon and others are sushi. Now, I love filet but detest sushi, so y'all can have the raw fish and seaweed and I'll take my steak medium rare.

  Today I am grateful I remain hungry for AA, regardless of what's on the menu.

October 8, 2005


  My daughter and son-in-law came to my house after they spent the first three nights after the baby was born in a hotel suite. They took the master bedroom and bath, which meant my husband was booted into my room. We sleep in separate bedrooms because of his snoring. Now I won't be tacky and disclose anything personal, but let me just say that separate rooms works out really well for us because I don't wake up crabby, nor do I have to hit or kick him all night to make him be quiet, and our intimacy has not suffered for it.

  However, I must say that I sure miss sleeping alone! For the love of Pete--that man can make some racket at night! I'm not talking a peaceful, rhythmic snore that works like white noise and allows me to sleep through it. I'm talking snorts, raspberries, gasps, sputters, poofs, puffs, and noises I can't even describe. Furthermore, he does it on the inhale AND exhale, AND it matters not if he's sleeping on his side, stomach, or back. Holey Moley!

  I have had to practice love and tolerance like you wouldn't believe and my sleep deficit is rising to the danger point, along with my temper. It has taken tremendous patience and self-restraint to not beat him with a blunt object or smother him with a pillow. I'm telling you--if it weren't for AA, I couldn't have made it. But....

  I am very very very grateful that today the kids took the baby and went to their little cottage on wheels. I can hear my husband snoring behind his closed door at the end of the hall as I type, but I will close my door in a minute, crawl into my bed, and sleep like Rip Van Winkle.

  I'm also grateful that he and I are celebrating our 34th wedding anniversary today.

October 9, 2005


  Gee whiz--if life gets any better for me, will I be able to stand it?
I keep amazing myself with my lack of anger, discontentment, irritation, sarcasm, and other ugly emotions that used to be a daily part of my life.

  What's happening? Where'd they go? I used to get my knickers in a twist in the blink of an eye but now I have smooth knickers. Could it have something to do with getting sober, joining AA, making friends, working the Steps, reading the Big Book and trusting God? Hmmmmmm. It doesn't take rocket science to figure that one out. Good thing too because the only thing I know about rockets is that they go boom, blast off, and shoot into the sky.

  I am coming to the full and fabulous realization that God is doing for me what I could not do for myself. There's a chorus to an old hymn my Grandma used to sing that went: Come home, come home--ye who are weary come home.

  I was so very weary four years ago--weary in mind, heart, body, and spirit. Recovery has awakened my spirit, healed my body, mended my heart, and cleared my mind.

  Today I am grateful I came home.

October 10, 2005


  "If we are not sorry, and our conduct continues to harm others, we are quite sure to drink. We are not theorizing. These are facts out of our experience." (Big Book, page 70)

  Well land-a-goshen! If that doesn't put the fear of God into an alcoholic, they are up the creek without a paddle! That excerpt is actually in the sex section, but I reckon it applies to all matters in an alcoholic's life.

  I believe--I mean really and truly believe, that my conduct plays a major role in my sobriety. If I am still harming others, I'm doing something wrong--I'm off course and I better get my compass out and head for calmer seas or my ship is going to sink.

  Smooth sailing is my daily goal, even if the waves are choppy or the weather is unpleasant, I can still have smooth sailing. I can batten down the hatches and shut out the fussing and feuding that invades my space in life's ocean. Even the occasional shark can't get me if I mind my own business and focus on my conduct and behavior and not his or her gnashing teeth and voracious appetite.

  By now you've probably figured out there is a specific reason for this seafaring analogy, but I won't bore you with the stormy details. I was verbally attacked, but I concentrated on my own conduct, which was non-retaliatory, kind, and rational, and the shark went away hungry--mayhap to look for another victim.

  Today I am grateful for the circle of protection that travels the seas with me.

October 11, 2005


  I love the fact that I can have differences of opinion with my friends and family and it's OK. I never knew how to "agree to disagree" until I got sober. It was my way or no way. I had to be right even when I knew I was wrong. I was extremely confrontational, both physically and verbally. The emotional immaturity of an alcoholic knows no bounds. We are like spoiled children and speaking for myself, I threw some jim-dandy temper tantrums!

  I am a Liberal and my husband is Republican. Yes--I heard you gasp at that! Can you imagine what my house was like when politics was the topic of conversation and I was drunk? Yikes! I can tell you it wasn't pretty and sometimes there was bloodshed--really....I'm not kidding.

  Since I have been in recovery--especially since I've worked, and continue to work the Steps and practice AA's principles, I rarely engage in political discussions with him, but when I do, I can simply say "I disagree with you, Dear." My temper and voice volume do  not rise to the danger zone as in the past. I was a screamer--I'd scream until the veins at my temple bulged and threatened to burst, just to get my point across. I've actually damaged my throat shrieking like a demented screech owl. I HAD TO BE HEARD AND BY GOD YOU WERE GOING TO HEAR ME!!!!!

  Today I am grateful I can speak softly and carry a Big Book.

October 12, 2005


  "They suggested that I study the AA book and try to take the Twelve Steps according to the explanation in the Book, for it was their opinion that the application of these principles in our daily lives will get us sober and keep us sober." (Freedom From Bondage, page 550-Big Book)

  We read this story today in our Spiritual Sisters Big Book Study. This excerpt jumped out at me in a big way today as I recalled reading it early in my sobriety. I shared with the group about how grateful I was that the title of the story had a special appeal to me--special enough to entice me to read it. I, like so many others, didn't really think reading those first 164 pages was really necessary, but this story changed my mind. It's not only suggested and necessary, but it is of vital and utmost importance.

 Many newcomers, including myself, come in looking for shortcuts and think they can skip the reading and move right into the Steps. BAD idea! It's like trying to build a house without the blueprints and using dissolvable nails--chances are the finished home will crumble around you and you'll have to start all over.

  The paragraph continues: " I believe this, and I believe too that it is equally impossible to practice these principles to the best of our ability, a day at a time, and still drink, for I don't think the two things are compatible."

  Amen Sister! If you are working this program and practicing the principles, it will be impossible for you to drink. I agree one hundred percent!

  Today I am grateful for the blueprints in the Blue Book.

October 13, 2005


  I was, like so many newcomers, very naive when I came into the program of AA--green as grass. I was under the impression that giving up alcohol was going to make my life and marriage a bed of roses, pretty much overnight. My life was going to be a holiday here on Primrose Lane. I'd greet my husband at the door wearing my apron, looking like Betty Crocker. A hot dinner would be waiting as he asked "How was your day Dear?" and I'd say "Fine Dear, how was yours?" and so on and so on and scooby dooby doo doo.

  I felt the first thorn in that bed of roses stick me right about the time I took my 30 day chip. To begin with, I wasn't chosen to share at the meeting that day and I had observed that the chip takers were almost always chosen. Harumph! How rude of these people--and I had rehearsed a speech and everything! Thus, the seed of resentment was planted and it germinated and grew for a few days while I sat on my pity-pot, until my husband, who I was still calling my "trigger" at that time, said something to hurt my feelings and I exploded.

  I cursed and cried and threw one of my dreaded temper tantrums. I wailed "What's the use of being sober if we're still going to fight like we used to?" Note that I said if WE'RE going to fight? I was still blaming someone else for MY old, bad behavior. The result of course, was a severe emotional hangover. I was full of guilt and shame. I had gone from elated to deflated. I had just chosen my sponsor so I called her. I didn't like what she had to say, which was; "Don't you realize that you don't HAVE to act like that?" Another Harumph! She didn't understand either because SHE didn't have to live with MY husband.

  Anyway....to make a long story longer--I began to see the error of my ways and I know today that I make the choice to be angry, sad, vengeful, hurt, or any number of negative emotions OR, I make the choice to be happy, serene, content, tolerant, loving, forgiving or any number of positive emotions. I am responsible for my behavior, good or bad.

  Today I am grateful for the 66 year-old tools that help me build new behaviors.

October 14, 2005


  The Seven Deadly Sins--don't ya just love 'em? Did you know that they were major players in our disease? I didn't when I was drinking, but I can sure look back and spot them now. They made me dastardly and deadly. I committed all of them on a daily basis. Pride, greed, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth (procrastination being a fancy, five-syllable word for sloth--so says our book).

  I wanted to make sure I never forgot them so I rearranged the order and made up the word Paggles to remember them. I thought of them tonight after my husband and son left for a local concert. The kid has been here for 30 days now (man! it seems like he just got here) and I haven't been in my house alone long enough in that time to look around and realize how long I have procrastinated on cleaning my kitchen. I've been feeding 5 people almost daily and I feel like I spend half my time cooking or washing dishes, but my kitchen and dining room were a disgrace! The only thing I've done in there is wash dishes--and I had to do that so I could cook some more! I had not swept or mopped my floor in 30 days! Jumpin' Jiminy! I thought I gave up sloth in my Seventh Step.

  Well, anyway, I put on my glad rags and got busy. I vacuumed, dusted, scrubbed, swept, mopped, and did everything but clear out the science experiments in the fridge before they got back home (well that's what they look like). I'll do it tomorrow...oops--there I go again!

  Today I am grateful my son had an extra ticket to that show and invited his dad. That got them both out of my way so I could see what a sloth I've been.

October 15, 2005


  Driving home today I looked at my thermometer and it said 100! Here we are in the middle of October and WHERE is our Fall weather? I just had to get that off my chest --I'm over it now
; - )

  I went to the noon meeting and felt a quiet joy all the way there just knowing I was heading to a safe haven. I really needed a meeting. Things here are a little tumultuous and I had anxiety only my alcoholic peers can settle. Is it all gone now? I'd be lying if I said it was, but it went away for that one hour.

  I'm feeling overwhelmed with all the changes. I'm short on patience and feeling inadequate to deal with all the problems that are cropping up. I think what it boils down to is that I'm OK with me, but I am frustrated that I can't fix everything and everyone else. Time for a re-affirmation of Step 3 I suppose, along with reciting the Serenity Prayer about 500 times a day.

  The good news is--I didn't drink today and for that I am grateful.

October 16, 2005


  She struggled and tried and gave it her all
But could not win the war against alcohol
In and out the doors of AA,
She still couldn't keep her disease at bay.

  Too many newcomer chips to count,
Time after time she was down for the count.
She wanted sobriety; freedom from pain,
But the booze kept pulling her back again.

  My mind keeps seeing her desperate stare,
She could barely sit still in that AA chair.
At times she wore a smile on her face,
But her anguish inside could not be erased.

  She joins the others that went on before,
The ones who strayed too far from the door.
I've heard it said many times, many ways--
Sometimes that door doesn't swing both ways.

  In memory of Stacy R.

  I wish you could have found your freedom here on earth.
 

October 17, 2005


  This is a story about Gilbert. He is 96 years old and used to be a resident at the Hallmark assisted living facility where I sing at their church service every Sunday. He has always been one of my favorites there. He's as sharp as a tack and his physical shape is pretty darn good for his age too. He doesn't use a walker or wheelchair, and he even helped get the ones who are wheelchair bound from their rooms to the service in the dining room.

  Two weeks ago, he told us he was moving to another facility. I was so sad about it and frankly quite surprised that he was taking it so well. He said it was God's will, that he'd be fine--he'd make new friends, and to come and visit him at the other place.

  So today, I left for Hallmark early to stop by and visit Gilbert. From the moment I pulled into the parking lot I was disappointed and angry. Inside, I became even more agitated and sad. On a scale of 1-10, I'd give the place a 3, whereas Hallmark is at least an 8. I know that Gilbert has a daughter who is a millionaire. Her son is a millionaire. I was seething inside that poor Gilbert had to leave his friends and a really nice facility to live in this place. Grrrrrrrrr.

  Boy....I need to get to the point before I write a novel. OK--I found Gilbert's room and he welcomed me in with a big hug and smooch on the cheek. I asked him how he was doing, how he liked the place, and so on. With that same old sparkle in his eye, he said he liked it. He's made new friends and found a church right next door. He got one of those scooters and get this-- He rode it to Hallmark a few days ago to visit his pals. It's about 4 miles!

  Never in my life have I seen a more humble and grateful soul. He is the epitome of serenity and happiness. He turned his will and life over to God as a child and as a result, his peace and contentment go where he goes. He had no complaints--NONE.

  Here I was being angry and resentful about his situation--dwelling over it, seething over it, and he is as happy as a pig in a puddle. Wow! What a lesson I learned from that sweet old man. He showed me what acceptance really is--what trusting God can do, and that happiness has nothing to do with where you are--it's who you are.

  Today I am grateful for my friend, my hero-- Gilbert.

October 18, 2005


  I'm still feeling guilty about judging Gilbert's rich family members. I should say that they live in another state and may not even know he was moved. He has other children here, whom I assume (and isn't that a dangerous thing to do?) are the ones who made the decision. Bottom line is....I don't know everything--what a shocker!

  What I do know is that it's none of my business and if Gilbert's happy, I'm happy. Boy, I can sure get myself into trouble when I stick my nose into other people's business. I've been reading a book by Byron Katie and she says there are three kinds of business--yours, someone else's, and God's.

  Earthquakes, hurricanes, plagues of locusts and such are God's business. What someone else does or says is their business. What I do and say is my business.

  If you're worrying about tornadoes (not of the alcoholic variety) then you are in God's business. If your knickers are twisted over what your spouse or neighbor is doing--you're in their business and that leaves your business unattended and flapping in the breeze like bloomers on a clothesline.

  I'm grateful, and oh so much happier when I stay in my own business and keep my bloomers on.

October 19, 2005


  I know that God always answers my prayers. The answer may be "no" or sometimes "wait a while" but He always answers. I no longer use God as my "cosmic bellboy" or "serve Him only in an advisory capacity." I've mused before that in the beginning of my recovery, I felt like a fraud when I prayed....I had denied God for decades, so consequently, I prayed for all the wrong things--I prayed selfishly. I expected the answer to be "yes" to all my requests, after all, I was sober wasn't I? I was doing the right thing wasn't I? I still had that "prove to me that You are real" attitude.

  I have learned to accept His answers because I know that He is in charge of my life and knows how to manage it. I never did learn how to manage my life. I end all my prayers with "Thy will be done" and then I wait for His answer, ready to accept it, whether I like it, hate it, agree with it, or disagree with it.

  I prayed last night for resolution to a personal problem. I prayed that the person with whom I needed to speak to would honor my request to talk with me. It didn't happen, but I know that there was a good reason for it and I didn't question Him or complain. I have acceptance and peace in my heart, and feel secure in the knowledge that He will decide when the time is right.

  Today I am grateful I have learned how to pray, and grateful I have learned to accept the answers.

October 20, 2005


  There will be times in sobriety when life just seems so unfair. You will cry out "Why is this happening to me?" but those last two little words in that question are the key to acceptance. If you drop them, you're moving forward already. It's not happening to you--it's just happening.

  There's another small word that creates BIG problems and that word is ego. Edging God Out is the best definition I've heard for ego. That little word gives birth to some destructive offspring.
Egocentric: self-centered
Egoism: excessive concern for oneself
Egotism: the practice of talking about oneself too much; an exaggerated sense of self-importance; conceit

  That's quite a dysfunctional family there and they'll take you one big Ego Trip--a journey not recommended for the recovering alcoholic. The word ego itself is defined as: the self as distinguished from others. That's not so bad, right? It's when the others are born that the trouble begins. I'd say some planned parenting is in order when we get sober.

  One of the most joyous legs of my journey thus far has been discovering my "self" as distinguished from others, so ego doesn't have to be a dirty word. However, I didn't practice safe sobriety in the beginning and I gave life to egocentricity, egoism, and egotism. I gave them up for adoption several times, but they kept tracking me down and finding me again.

  Today I am grateful for humility--a good seed AA has produced.

October 21, 2005


  Death was the topic of our morning meeting. It seems to come up a lot at AA meetings--no surprise since this disease is a killer. Several women heard of an accident on the radio this morning on their way to the meeting. Two cars, two fatalities, and one young man facing manslaughter charges. They were all friends, out together and they were drinking.

  One of the women in the group was obviously and visibly shaken when she came in--the boys were friends of her son, and one of the young men killed was her next door neighbor. Gone in the blink of an eye in a fiery crash. Four more victims of alcohol--Two lives snuffed out and two more who will be haunted and tormented by the memory of last night until the day they die.

  My mind just played "when will they ever learn--oh when will they ever learn?"

  When will we, as a society, learn how deadly alcohol is? What will it take--how many lives? Cigarette ads have been banned from TV for years, yet alcohol commercials still air, portraying that lethal liquid as glamorous, adventurous, humorous, macho and romantic. They make our youth believe that they can have the car, the girl (or boy), the job, and the high life. Alcohol entices them, then lures them into that false sense of self-assurance and bravado, then it sentences them to a life of alcoholism and misery, or worse yet, it kills them before they ever have a chance to learn the truth--that it was all a lie.

  I'm not naive--realistically I know that not everyone who sees those ads is an alcoholic or a potential one. There is no way of determining how much damage those commercials do and I for one think they should be banned. Wouldn't it be worth it if it saved the life of one person?

  Today I am grateful for Marr, and I want her to know her broken heart will mend, but in the meantime, we will keep her wrapped in love.

October 22, 2005


  "If we were to live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us. They may be the dubious luxury of normal men, but for alcoholics these things are poison." (page 66, Big Book)

  I've used that excerpt before, but I can never hear it or read it enough. I read it every day because I have it copied and next to my computer. It used to hang on the fridge, but I begrudgingly moved it when my daughter did the magic makeover in the kitchen and dining room.

  Holding on to anger and resentment is akin to swallowing a cup of caustic lye. Your insides will be eaten away. Does that mean we shouldn't get, or will never be angry or resentful? Of course not....this isn't Emerald City--we're still in Kansas where tornadoes and wicked witches roar through our lives. But if we're following the yellow-brick road of recovery, we will know how to work through resentments and anger so that our innards stay healthy. I'd a known that a long time ago if I'd only had a brain.

  Today I am grateful that I'm no longer just a nuthin', my head all of full of stuffin', and my heart all full of pain.

October 23, 2005


  Today was the occasion of one of my favorite annual events--the Native Plant sale here in good ol' Bakersfield, California. Did I even know it existed when I was drinking? Of course not! My back yard was a disgrace--full of weeds and goatheads. For those of you who don't know what goatheads are--they are wicked stickers with lots of points on them so that when you step on one and it goes deep in your foot, you usually stick your finger too when you pull it out.

  I couldn't have cared less though, I never went out there--especially in the summer when the temps were over 100 and my alcohol consumption made it impossible for me to sweat so consequently, I'd get heat exhaustion if I was out more than 30 minutes or so. Not that I had any desire to be out in that nasty yard--I preferred to stay inside and drink my days away.

  But now, life has taken on new meaning (gee--where have I heard that before?) and I have worked long and hard in that yard for the last three years. I cleaned it up, de-stickered it, and laid sod. I have planted shrubs, flowers, and lots of native plants....mostly sages. Today I bought 23 more, plus 4 flats of ground cover and worked all day out there. It was heaven! The aromas were glorious and it felt so good to have my hands in the soil--creating beauty instead of the ugliness my drinking days created. I bought pitcher sage, purple sage, white sage, and creeping black sage. I also got some manzanitas and wild lilac. The hummingbirds whirred around in sheer excitement as I worked. Life is very very good.

  Today I am grateful for Icy Hot because my back is killing me!

October 24, 2005


  I love babies--I always have. However, I have to say that holding my first grandchild is one of the greatest joys of my life thus far. He is beautiful and sweet from his silky black hair to his tiny toes. I love holding him while he's sleeping and making all those cute faces that sleeping newborns make. There's the furrowed brow, the pout and sniff, the raised-eyebrow enlightened look, and yes---The Smile. Are they really smiling? Of course they are! Pay no attention to those who say it's just gas. C'mon--they haven't a care in the world and they must have the sweetest dreams.

  Oh the blessings sobriety has brought into my life! I have friends; I have a family that isn't tied to me by blood; I have dignity, contentment, happiness, and an ocean of gratitude. I have also lost a lot since I stopped drinking and completely gave myself to the program of AA.

  I've lost my self-doubt, self-loathing, self-righteousness, fear, hatred, laziness, and that dreaded mean streak. I've lost the obsession for alcohol. I've lost the desire to destroy myself. I've lost the need to retaliate. I've lost my argumentative nature.

  I have found something wonderful for everything I lost. I have found self-assurance, self-worth, humility, courage, love, ambition, and kindness. I have found an obsession for sobriety. I've found the will to live. I've found tolerance and acceptance.

  Today I am grateful for the lost and found.

October 25, 2005


  The topic today at the noon meeting was prayer. I love the paragraph on page 97 of the 12 and 12 that reads "Those of us who have come to make regular use of prayer would no more do without it than we would refuse air, food, or sunshine. And for the same reason. When we refuse air, light, or food, the body suffers. And when we turn away from meditation and prayer, we likewise deprive our minds, our emotions, and our intuitions of vitally needed support."

  Do I hear an Amen?

  I've said this before--I didn't know how to pray when I was faced with the daunting task of trying it--I felt like a fraud, but I prayed as though my life depended on it because it did. My spiritual life depended on it, which I now know is as necessary to sustain me as water, food, and air. I hope I'm making sense. Am I? Of course I am--you're alcoholics! You understand exactly what I'm trying to convey.

  When my spirit was broken by alcohol, beaten into submission, my mind and body suffered. I was dying. I found out in recovery that my solution was a spiritual one. Man--that sounded too easy--contrite even. Could it really be that simple? It was--it is. If I strive to improve my conscious contact with God through prayer and meditation, I unblock the conduit that alcohol clogged.

  Have you ever visited someone in the hospital and heard the IV machine beep an alarm? Often it will say "occlusion" in the lighted readout, meaning there is an obstruction that prevents the tube from dripping medication, saline, or whatever go-go juice your body needs into your vein.

  It's the same with us. Alcohol obstructs God from dripping in, so to speak. It creates an occlusion. Step 11 unblocks the IV so we can receive His power, love, and guidance.

  Today I am grateful when my alarm doesn't beep.

October 26, 2005


  The 12 and 12 tells us that most alcoholics were tortured by loneliness. It is a common thread among us that we felt like we didn't belong in mainstream society.

  This topic came up at the Spiritual Sisters meeting this morning and it brought back memories of my youth, my teen-aged years, and my ill-fated adulthood.

  Born a poor Orkie, (half Okie-half Arkie) and spending the first five years of my life in a migrant labor camp planted the seed in me that I was different. The path I took was one of rebellion and defiance--two more common characteristics of an alcoholic. I entered my teen-aged years with flowers in my hair, wearing a headband, and marching against the Vietnam War.

  Through the ensuing years, I remained a non-conformist. I was the proverbial black sheep of the family. I was drunk and rowdy and Boy Howdy, did I get criticism from my siblings and parents! I was pregnant at 16, and a high-school drop-out. I was argumentative and aggressive; confrontational and conceited.

  I married at 17 and continued to be the "abnormal" one. For 30 years, until I came into AA, I believed that. Something must be wrong with me. Why do I eat organic and nobody else does? Why do I see an herbalist while everyone else runs to the doctor? Why am I the only one with a tattoo? Why do I pick fights with everybody? And why in the Sam Hill do I drink every single day? Yup--something must be wrong with me. I must be weird, stupid, or crazy....or maybe all three!

  Here's what I know now. I am normal because I'm comfortable in my own skin. There is nothing wrong with me and I'm not weird, stupid, or crazy. If I choose to drink sage tea while everyone else is sipping Thera-Flu, there's nothing wrong with that--it's normal for me. It's normal for me to sit in a drum circle if I want to. I'm not abnormal because I don't eat pork or shellfish. I'm not abnormal if I wear purple dresses and red hats and wrap a feather boa around my neck, but I know this as well as I know my own name--I am not a normal drinker. Period.

The definition of normal is: regular, standard, or natural, but also; sound in mind and body.

  Henry David Thoreau said: If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears the beat of a different drummer. Let him step to that music which he hears, however measured or far away."

  Beautiful quote, wouldn't you agree? But alcoholics have an easier, softer way of expressing that sentiment. It is Live and Let Live.

  Today I am grateful for my individuality.

  PS...thank you Spiritual Sisters for inspiring this Muse.

 

October 27, 2005


  You guys will understand the irony and humor (I hope) of this Muse. A non-alcoholic wouldn't get it.

  I got an envelope out of my mailbox today from The Wine of the Month Club. Here's a paragraph from the letter, which tickled my funny bone:

  "I could be wrong, but I believe you are someone who really appreciates an exceptional bottle of wine. Fancy labels and fancy prices do not impress you. You're no snob, but you certainly know how good it feels to discover a truly extraordinary wine, especially when that wine isn't well known or readily available."

  Well! Here's what I might reply to them if I were so inclined:

  Dear Sirs and Madams:

  Gee, it's too bad your tempting offer didn't come 4 years ago because I might have given it a whirl. I was a Jack Daniels gal myself, but if I had run out, 5 or 6 bottles of your wine would have held me over for a few hours until my whiskey was replenished. I see you're offering a free, snazzy corkscrew with a commitment to your Club -- That's very generous of you, but I never really cared whether my wine had a cork or a screw-on top.

  It won't be necessary to send me any more offers--in fact I would prefer you didn't because if, God forbid, I should drink again I probably wouldn't live long enough to send my first months payment to you.

  Sincerely and Soberly yours, Nan--Happy Alcoholic

  Today I am grateful for my laugh of the day--courtesy of the US Postal Service.

October 28, 2005


  "And we get here with nothing tangible--Our lives unmanageable and mangled-- As soon as we're sober and clean, we do the 13th Step Tango." (Robin K, singer, songwriter, addict)

  Robin has a 5 song CD that is awesome! If you have the opportunity to buy one-I strongly urge you to do so. Buy extras because you'll want to give them to your friends--in recovery that is. I've driven down the road listening and crying (or laughing) and my husband looks at me like I'm one french fry short of a Happy Meal. He just doesn't get it.

  The 13th Step Tango is pretty self-explanatory. The opening verse is: "There's a burning desire--love and service to share--and to practice these principles--in some lurid affair--no matter how low your bottom--when your drinking is through--in recovery we guarantee it--there's a nut here to fit every screw."

  Funny song, but sadly--too true. Personally, I never had the desire, burning or otherwise, to tango with my male fellows, but I have seen it become the Waterloo of many. The meeting rooms of AA are one big dance hall for some men and women. I guess if you're single or your marriage is shaky it might be more tempting to get jiggy with the dirty dancing, but I was all danced out when I arrived.
Every relationship I have with the men in the program is utterly and completely platonic. I can tell you quite frankly that if sex, flirting, or lurid affairs would have gotten me sober, I wouldn't have needed AA. I needed spiritual help--desperately! There's a gospel song I sing that has this chorus: "I can't even walk without You holding my hand--the mountain's too high, and the valley's too wide--Down on my knees, I learned to stand--Because I can't even walk without You holding my hand."

  That's where I was when I 'came to' that morning over 4 years ago. I was lying on the floor and ready to crawl or slither on my belly to a better life. God heard my humble plea and helped me walk through the door of my first AA meeting--holding my hand all the way. He led and I followed.

  Today I am grateful for my Divine Dance Partner.

October 29, 2005


  "Finally, when all our score cards read 'zero,' and we saw that one more strike would put us out of the game forever, we had to look for our lost faith. It was in AA that we rediscovered it. And so can you."

  Man! That describes me perfectly! It really was the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, 3 balls, 2 strikes--I was down to my last strike, and if I struck out, the game would end--there would be no joy in Mudville. For me, it was do or die, sink or swim, hit the ball or strike out.

  I'm only in the game of life today because of AA. I swung for the fences when I called Central Office and hit a Grand Slam when I went to that first meeting. I owe my life to AA--a gift from God. He is my coach and manager. I play for Him exclusively.

  Today I am grateful I didn't strike out.

October 30, 2005


  The Big Book says if we work the program--completely give ourselves to it, that certain things will happen. We know about the Promises, and we know that we will cease fighting everything and everyone. We are also told that the thought of alcohol will become offensive to us. Those are my words--I'm paraphrasing, but what the Book says is that we will recoil from it, as though from a hot flame.

  I don't even know when that transformation took place in me, but that's how I feel. The thought of drinking is abhorrent to me--unthinkable. My mind recoils in horror at the thought. There is no battle and no temptation--at least there hasn't been. I pray it stays that way.

  The drinking life was sheer Hell. My life today is Heaven on Earth. I would have to be insane to want to go back.

  Today I am grateful that alcohol has no appeal for me.

October 31, 2005


  "When the spiritual malady is overcome, we straighten out mentally and physically." (Big Book, page 64)

  How true that statement is! Speaking for myself, my mental state improved quickly. I have said before that hearing those four words at my first meeting--"restore us to sanity" was a huge relief for me. I was actually glad to know that I was insane and not a fool or an idiot. Clarity and cognizance returned almost immediately. It was exhilarating to be clear-headed and aware of my surroundings for the first time in decades.

  Emotionally, I improved gradually. I heard someone say at a meeting recently that we alcoholics suffered from arrested development--that our maturity level stopped when we began drinking. I agree with that 100%. I may have been 47 when I got sober, but my maturity level was that of a 14 year-old girl--the age I was when I took my first drink and drank til I blacked out. I grew older, but I never grew up.

  Physically, I can honestly say that I feel better now than I have in years. Gone are the chronic hangovers and migraines. The insomnia is rare these days. My heart is stronger and the irregular heartbeat occurs infrequently. All the health problems alcohol created are gone or going. I feel so blessed that I have my health. It is surely God's grace, for the body is not designed to consume alcohol in large quantities on a daily basis.

  Of course, the old gray mare ain't what she used to be, but dems da breaks. I was corresponding with Tom S. earlier today about how we just can't do the stuff we did 20 years ago without suffering some painful consequences. He's been a choppin' wood and workin' out in the country and his muscles are protesting--loudly. However, I'm sure he'd be the first to admit that he'd take those owies over the pain and anguish of addiction any day. So would I.

  Today I'm grateful for my spiritual healing, which led to physical, emotional, and mental healing.